I don’t mean to sound pompous, but when I set my mind to something, I normally get the job done.
If not the first time, certainly the second.
Sometimes the third.
No later than the fourth.
At least it doesn’t take me 20 years. If I wanted to invade Ohio with an army of cronies, you can bet it wouldn’t take me two decades of consistent and embarrassing failures.
The same simply can’t be said for Bowser. Each of his feeble attempts to conquer the Mushroom Kingdom has failed, leaving him with little more than a legacy of consistent embarrassments by the hand of a plumber.
Except, of course, for attention and fame.
Despite scoring a proverbial goose egg of successful invasions, each of his attempts has been the subject of a multi-million-selling video game. His mug is printed on t-shirts, he races in the Star Cup Grand Prix and he’s become a universally feared power hitter.
And maybe that’s the point.
Perhaps Bowser isn’t seeking victory at all. Maybe he’s after the attention that comes with the mere threat of his success, countering his deep-seeded feelings of insecurity by continually making himself the center of attention regardless of the outcome.
We’d interview him about it, but that’s exactly what he wants.