Doop de doop de doo. This is my platform. My reliable platform! Thanks to my platform, I can exist at a higher elevation, if need be. My platform does not make any sounds, or any of those frivolous things, but I think it loves me. It helps me. We have a bond that you may not understand, but you can appreciate it, right? A dog can't tell you it loves you, but you can know. It's the same way with my platform.
There are plenty of other platforms in the world. Plenty of flashier ones, with more functionality than my platform. I don't NEED mine to rotate, or spin, or follow a track, or anything! It's perfect the way it is, because it's MY platform. It's my best friend. Huh? You don't remember me ever mentioning my platform before this post? Feh. You must be a fake fan. Only explanation I can think of!
My platform never leaves my side... unless it's under my feet supporting me, of course! It's physically supportive, and emotionally supportive, too. I just get that feeling that it really gets me.
So, recently, my platform and I were enjoying some coastal merriment. We went parasailing! What fun! It seems so scary, but once you get up there and the line gets taut, it's honestly the most serene thing I can think of. I'd love to be able to do it all the time to clear my head whenever needed, but it being a rare indulgence does make it all the more special.
So there we were! Soaring over the ocean, our responsibilities far below. Just us, the sea, and the sky. The only land in sight was my dear platform sitting beside me. Even a platform loves to be elevated by something else once in a while. At least, that's what I think.
I'll never know exactly what happened next. Maybe a malfunction. Maybe an accident. Maybe intentional tampering. But suddenly... the line snapped. We were gone. At the mercy of the winds, with no land in sight. I clung on for dear life, to the seat, and to my platform. But we had to land at some point. We tumbled through the crashing waves, and I gasped for air at just the wrong time. As I coughed up seawater, I felt weaker and weaker. I just didn't have the energy to keep going.
I remember waking up on a rocky shore. Right next to my platform. It had saved me, no doubt. But I couldn't save us now. I had no energy. No food. Days went by, with nothing but saltwater to sustain me. Then, at last, I saw it. Right next to me, where my platform usually sat.
A beautiful, unbelievably massive mango-frosted eclair. You probably don't believe me, but I was in no position to let such a treat get away. Without question I tore into it like a wild beast. The taste was bizarre, the texture tough, but none of that mattered. I wasn't going to question such a gift. I gorged on the treat until I passed out, exhausted, yet full.
That night, for the first time in days, I dreamed. I dreamed of my platform, lost at sea. Alone. It wasn't real, but god, it hurt so much that it might as well have been. Waking up from that dream should have been a relief. And yet, when I did, I didn't see anything I expected. Not the eclair. Not my platform. There was something new.
Debut: New Super Mario Bros. Wii
I... I'm so fucking sorry...
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