On an irritable and grumpy morning, Wario sat on the bed. It was Valentine's Day and he was all alone.
Hey Wario, you don't have to take that kind of shit!
His chest ached in sorrow for the secret love that he could never share.
How could he expect Luigi to love someone with a satisfied ass?
Painfully, he began to recite a poem he had composed.
"Ah, my love is like a drunk cheerful boot, all on a summer's day. I wish my Luigi would touch me, in his own sexy way..."
Well, it's about what I would have expected. It's shit, but to be fair, it seems like the kind of shit that Wario would write.
"Do you?" Luigi sat down beside Wario
So I guess the part where it said he was all alone was just kidding, as well as the part that said he could never share his—
and put his hand on Wario's
Please just say shoulder, please just say shoulder…
"I think that could be arranged."
Wario gasped gratefully. "But what about my satisfied ass?"
"I like it," Luigi said eagerly. "I think it's glorious."
They came together and their kiss was like a torrent of dirty water running down the river.
I have no doubt in my mind that that's a very accurate metaphor, but it raises the question; who the fuck was this written for? Other than ComicsNix.
"I love you," Wario said willingly.
"I love you too," Luigi replied and touched him.
They bought a bear,
moved in together,
and lived flamingly ever after.