Before you jump to any conclusions, no—I don’t have anger management problems. And yes, I understand that is hard to believe, but seriously, I’ve beaten some of the toughest games out there (huge Dark Souls fan) and never hurt anybody or anything in the process!

Why Mario Party, then? That’s a good question. Let me paint you a devastating picture.

Mario Party Started Out Great

The year was 2005. I was a teenager at the time, and my brother and I were busy celebrating summer vacation by playing every Gamecube game we could get our hands on. What better way to celebrate than a party with Mario and co.?

As we started the game and played through a decent amount, I was really feeling it that day. I conquered mini-game after mini-game, and my coin collection broke triple digits. Both the mini-game star and the coin star were bound to be mine, but they would just be two beautiful cherries on top of my sundae of stars I’d collected throughout the game.

Then, My Luck Turned Around

As we entered the final five turns, I felt invincible. My brother was checked out at that point, realizing he stood no chance, and the two computer players, Peach and Mario, were leagues behind. Riding this high, I got up from the couch and stood, shouting, “Luigi is da winner!”

But my celebrations were premature. If you’ve ever played Mario Party, you’d know nothing is set in stone. Even if you play the most flawless game and win every mini-game, you can still lose to other players, as much of the game is left to luck.

I could see the finish line. Two turns were left. My turn went smoothly, as did my brother’s turn and Mario’s turn. Then, Peach was up. She rolled, and I watched as she daintily strode one, two, three spaces to land on: chance time.

 

My heart sank into my stomach. No, this couldn’t be happening! I’m on top of the world and so close to victory.

You’ll be fine. I assured myself. The probability of getting involved in this chance time is so low, and if I do get roped in, it’s even more unlikely it will land on anything too bad. I could lose my coins and be fine.

Peach jumped to hit the dice with her head. Her image appeared on the dice. Oh god. She jumped again. Luigi’s image appeared on the second dice.

Suddenly, my brother let out a yelp of excitement, realizing the stakes—this could change everything. Just please, Mario Party gods…be kind to me.

Peach jumped again. Star swap.

Peach had zero stars.

Mario Party Broke Me

My vision went red. My brother cackled, and Peach celebrated, twirling her regal gown, while Luigi collapsed into a pile on the floor.

Like Darth Vader, I let out a deep, bellowing, “NOOOOOOOOO!!!” And before I knew it, my body moved on its own. I dropped my controller, ran into the hallway, and rammed my foot into the wall—only the drywall was flimsier than I expected. My heel snapped through, and I immediately pulled back in shock, pieces of the flaky wall falling to the floor with a puff of dust.

Ashamed and embarrassed, I tried to shove the pieces back into the wall to no avail. No less than five minutes later, I heard the front door open. Mom was home.

There was no hiding; I needed to own up to my buffoonery. I walked down the hallway with my head held down. My mom, with a smile, reached out and hugged me. “How was your day?” she said.

I didn’t want to drag this on any longer than necessary, so I got right to the point, “Mom, I have to show you something I did.”

“Oh, really?”

“Something not good.”

Her smile vanished. “What did you do?”

We walked around the hallway and I stood next to the hole in the wall, saying nothing.

I Learned My Lesson…

While my mom was upset, it wasn’t the end of the world. We patched up the hole, and no one would really notice unless you knew what you were looking for, but that spot on the wall would be a consistent reminder of my idiocy. The lesson I learned was simple: Don’t get emotionally invested in winning…especially in a game that cheats, like Mario Party.

But seriously, this episode would lead me to put aside Mario Party for a while. Instead, I sank a few hundred hours into something more peaceful: Animal Crossing. And over the years, my competitive spirit dampened, as I realized winning wasn’t everything. It’s always more important to have fun!

We all lived happily ever after—except for my wall. And while I forgive Peach, I will never forget.

Have you had any experiences like this in Mario Party? Share your story in the comments! We’d love to commiserate.

All copyrights to the above images belong to Nintendo. No copyright infringement is intended.