The last Mario game I played was ah, a time, but this is exactly the kind of cozy Mario game I was looking for. Instead of the “you can’t go any further unless you head back to this world and do more chores” design of 64 or Sunshine, we have a whole world full of things to collect, with the minimum required to progress readily available and and a massive amount of them for completion’s sake waiting for you if you want to find them. Maybe if you pile up goombas then this down-bad goomba lady will give you a moon, maybe if I smack this rabbit with my hat he’ll, etc. And unlike my last experience, plenty of reasonable checkpoints and a whole slew of coins to pool from if you happen to lose a life, so now you can jump into pools of lava and poison sludge, or bump into a goomba or koopa shell, completely consequence-free. Oh sure, by all means do whatever you can to The Graduate Bowser’s latest forced-wedding service with Princess Peach, but now it also includes sightseeing, occasionally looking for collectibles if you want to, giving up if you really don’t, and amassing a huge wardrobe.
And after the difficulties I suffered with Mario last time, the costumes in this was an exercise in pure retributive sadism. How much physical and psychological harm can I inflict on this goofy little man by making omnipotent decisions on what he is to wear? Oh, are you in a desert land with blazing sun above and hot sand as far as the eye can see? I’m putting you in a down parka and winter boots. A frozen wasteland of ice and biting wind? Well, you better enjoy your fingers and toes while you still got em, cause you’re only in your skivvies now. And if you need to swing by a bustling metropolis full of modern cosmopolitan men and women in fancy dapper suits, I’m putting you in a poncho and sombrero, everyone’s going to think you’re a freaking racist. I’m going to make you stare down certain death at the hands of a hulking electric dragon in flippers and a floatey tube and a snorkel, very good for mobility those, not to mention good conductors of electricity. What a beautiful beach resort land full of bubbly sparkling clear water. Would be a real shame if someone were to make you wear full samurai armor. I have deep closets, I have clashing golf ensembles, French chef outfits, even the ugly purple and yellow work uniforms from the retailer that all the costumes come from, even, quite literally, a clown suit. You hurt me once, Mario, and now I’m going to make you look fucking ridiculous
And after the difficulties I suffered with Mario last time, the costumes in this was an exercise in pure retributive sadism. How much physical and psychological harm can I inflict on this goofy little man by making omnipotent decisions on what he is to wear? Oh, are you in a desert land with blazing sun above and hot sand as far as the eye can see? I’m putting you in a down parka and winter boots. A frozen wasteland of ice and biting wind? Well, you better enjoy your fingers and toes while you still got em, cause you’re only in your skivvies now. And if you need to swing by a bustling metropolis full of modern cosmopolitan men and women in fancy dapper suits, I’m putting you in a poncho and sombrero, everyone’s going to think you’re a freaking racist. I’m going to make you stare down certain death at the hands of a hulking electric dragon in flippers and a floatey tube and a snorkel, very good for mobility those, not to mention good conductors of electricity. What a beautiful beach resort land full of bubbly sparkling clear water. Would be a real shame if someone were to make you wear full samurai armor. I have deep closets, I have clashing golf ensembles, French chef outfits, even the ugly purple and yellow work uniforms from the retailer that all the costumes come from, even, quite literally, a clown suit. You hurt me once, Mario, and now I’m going to make you look fucking ridiculous