So on a website I frequent the question was "What was the most dastardly thing you've ever done in a video game?" Most people answered "Killed so and so in GTA IV." or "Took the dark path in Knights of the Old Republic." the normal stuff.

Here was one submission that I felt was particularly noteworthy.

"Oh dear.

I. I play a lot of Super Mario 1 when bored. You know that first mushroom person you encounter? The one that you're supposed to jump on? I don't jump on him. Instead, I watch him go about his day and create a background for him.

His name was Oswald, Oswald the friendly Mushroom man. He had a wife, Cecelia, and two children who didn't have names. Oswald's official job was to patrol Bowser's properties with the other mushroom people, but Oswald didn't like this job. He didn't like many things about his life, starting from the time he found out that Cecelia was a cheating whore and his youngest son, his favourite, was likely the child of his brother Peter.

Oswald is paid very poorly and cannot afford a divorce, so instead he woke up on the day that Mario decided to rescue Peach with the intention of committing suicide by cop. "I won't go to hell if it's not by my own hand," he reasoned with himself in the shower just hours prior, tears streaming down his little face, "I'll go to heaven just like mama. Mario will do me in. He'll do me good."

I don't kill Oswald. I watch him as he walks. I watch him as his steps become more hurried when he spies me off in the distance. I watch the beads of sweat pool on his brow, his mouth becoming sticky with coagulated saliva. I watch him flinch when I jump up in the air, anticipating that any second he'll breathe his last as his skull touches dirtied earth.

I watch Oswald and I laugh. I laugh at how pathetic he is, such a coward that he can't even walk over to me. I taunt him, attempting to force him to beg for my feet to crush him into the ground like an insect. The pitiful little thing holds onto the last shred of dignity that he has, refusing to give in and plead for my filthy shoe to smash him to pieces, and for that I only increase the intensity of my taunting.

Oswald hates me. He hates the way I look at him, not with rage or pity but without any identifiable emotion at all. He sees me as a saviour as much as an executioner, but he knows I don't have even the slightest bit of emotion to spare for something so small and meaningless. He begins to lose hope, missing steps and trying to stifle the tremors across his face. He tries in vain to wipe the tears from his eyes, the mucus from his nose, but can only muster a tired sigh when I mock him for that as well.

I spare Oswald, though spare isn't the word I'd use for it. I leave him behind- that's much better. I walk past him, leap over him, make sure he sees that my gaze is affixed in any direction but his own. I stealthily watch his face as he stares at me wide-eyed and with a gaping mouth, unable to process my utter disregard for his existence. I watch him, his inability to fathom how someone could be so cold and merciless, and I giggle, just loud enough for him to hear, at his misfortune, that he's so unlucky that he came up against someone who would go on to murder hundreds of his brethren and he walked away without so much as spit in his eyes.

I watch him return to his patrolling, now lifeless and robotic in each in his pacing. I watch the twinkle fade from his eyes as he retreats within his own mind, trying desperately to shut out reality and return to happier times. I watch for the slightest hint of a smile to return on his face, for him to show any emotion which would indicate that he sees light at the end of a darkened tunnel, and then I jump on him because he doesn't deserve to feel that joy."

Holy shit!

Poor Oswald!