Mario
Mario told Shepard that he had no idea where he was either, and that he'd just gone outside to avoid getting clocked over the head or shot. As far as he knew (as he continued to tell Shepard), Earth was safe.
Mario noticed that the sounds of violence within the saloon had died down, to be replaced by thunderous applause. Mario peered in and saw a pissed-looking redhead whaling on one of the cowboys. Mario slipped back outside the pub and decided that today wasn't the best time to get involved with that sort of stuff.
Toad
Hanson and Johnson exchanged the obligatory threatening banter that Toad associated with stereotypical shootouts, so Toad ignored that in favor of gaping at Bowser, the last person he had expected (or wanted) to see here.
"Geez, Bowser, I didn't know you'd stoop to workin' for a dude like this guy," Toad said, jabbing a thumb at Black Johnson (while maintaining a death grip on the branch).
"He and I have come to a... mutual understanding," Bowser replied, glancing over at the outlaw. Toad rolled his eyes. "Alright, look, there's a town of people who are dying of thirst. Sheriff Loose Cannon here--"
"Hey, watch the mouth," Hanson growled.
"--As I was
saying," Toad continued, "Sheriff had to knock me about a little just for getting a glass of water at the saloon. A
glass! Eight
friggin' fluid ounces of
water!"
"So?" Bowser sneered, folding his arms.
"So he and I came over to bust the dam," Toad replied. "So there. Black Johnson's precious dam just got wrecked."
Another jet of water burst from the dam, squirting towards the already-growing stream. Sheriff Hanson's horse pawed the ground, snorting and splashing in the steadily-quickening creek. "Easy, girl," Hanson said, patting the horse.
Toad shimmied off the branch and dashed to a ledge opposite from where Bowser was.
"Well, if you want your precious water so much," Black Johnson sneered, "then you can have it!"
He kicked a loose log on the dam.
Toad hadn't fully realized how dam tall the mass of logs was... it had even extended past the ledges where he, Bowser, and Johnson stood. "Shiitake," Toad grumbled, watching as logs began to fall off the dam and water began to spill over the side. The dam creaked and groaned as more and more wood fell into the growing stream. Toad's eyes widened as the dam began to collapse. He jumped down the ledges as bark chips rained down upon him. He slid down the dusty slopes and waded into the cold water. It swirled around his waist now. Toad, from a pocket under his shirt, pulled out a yellow "?" block, tossed it in the air, jumped up, and smacked it. A compressed cube of metal bounced out of the block, before rattling in midair and expanding into a
go-kart, hitting the water. Toad jumped in and told Hanson to lead the way.
"They're getting away!" Bowser shouted to Black Johnson.
"You go after them. I don't need this water anymore," he replied. "After all, I've already done what I needed to do with it. If the town doesn't drown, then..."
Johnson ascended the canyon wall as Bowser hopped into his Koopa Clown Car. Toad slammed the gas while Hanson urged his horse forward. The kart's wheels churned the water and sent a spray of water into the air. Toad hit a button and the kart flashed blue, its wheels flipping downwards. The kart hovered about half a foot in the air. He sped after Sheriff Hanson, whose horse struggled to keep ahead of the running water.
Kate
Kate noticed that people were staring at her. "What, you think I'm a train-whisperer or something? Naw, there's no such thing," she assured the crowd.
"Then why were you talking to the darn thing?" a lanky cowboy asked.
"Because I
feel like it," she replied. The cartoonish locomotive was definitely alive. When it turned its boiler to look at Kate as she encircled it, the crowd gasped.
"A ghost train," they whispered to each other.
Kate heard them. She rolled her eyes. "Okay, please tell me you're not going to just burn me 'cause I'm talking to a train," she said.
The locomotive's "eyes" darted around the crowd, whose agitation began to increase drastically. Kate gulped.
"Well, it's been fun, folks, but I think it's high time I got this thing back to the station," Kate announced, repressing her discomfort at the odd stares she was receiving from the locals. She hopped into the train and found that one of the levers was already thrown all the way backwards. "Alright, pal, I know you're alive," she said, looking around at the levers, pulleys, and buttons inside the cab. She opened the boiler door and dumped in a shovelful of coal.
She stuck her head out the window. Somebody cried "Witchcraft!" The other people stopped to stare at the guy who said that, then burst out laughing. Everybody knew witches didn't exist. Kate couldn't help but snicker as well. What a moron--
Kate suddenly felt the locomotive fly sideways across the dirt, slamming into the general store, breaking the front wall and causing the roof to cave in. Kate flinched as the building collapsed. The crowd gasped.
Kate looked out the window and saw the cashier behind the sales counter cowering in fear. "Hey, pal, I'm not going to hurt you. It was an accident, I swear---" Kate started. Suddenly, the train burst through the roof of the now-ruined general store, suspended in midair by thorny vines. Kate stiffened and stared out the window.
Hardy, thorny, black vines had erupted from the ground in front of where the locomotive had stood. The crowd had been enclosed by a slowly-compressing ring of vines. The vegetation crept towards each building, snaking up wooden columns like out-of-control kudzu. "Alright, what the heck?!" Kate shouted. "What'd
I do?!"
The vines dropped the locomotive on top of the saloon. The locomotive crashed through the roof, hitting the second floor, then the first floor. Thankfully, the locomotive had arched in such a way that it didn't crush anybody.
Casey Jr.
Casey's boiler began to overheat. Steam whistled from his pistons and his whistle. The girl in his cab stuck her head out the window. Casey threw his levers forward and puffed out the door, ripping a Casey-shaped hole in the saloon. A portly plumber stepped out of the way as Casey powered down the center of the town. Black brambles. This could only mean one thing.
Casey twisted his boiler towards the sky, glaring at a tall, thin figure descending on steps made of vine.
"Dumbo's precious circus train," the figure spat, "Casey Junior."
"You know this wacko?" the girl asked.
Casey blasted a violent, heated whistle, puffing his cheeks in indignation. As the ominous figure approached him, Casey could make out her horned headdress, her dark robe, her staff (with the raven perched upon it), and that trademark green skin that struck fear and disgust in the hearts of many Disney characters. The stuff of all Disney's nightmares, perhaps one of the evilest creations Walt Disney has ever conceived, the embodiment of envy herself.
"Fancy meeting you here," Maleficent continued, spreading her arms and prompting several dark portals to spit out short
black creatures with crumpled horns and impish stances. Their glowing yellow eyes maintained their gaze on Casey as they crept toward him.