The Scourge of Dreamland
Imagine, if you will, a land of bright, colourful cheer. It is a place of magical, frolicking creatures. A place of candy, and soft, puffy clouds, and gentle music. It is, both literally and figuratively, a Dream Land.
Yet every light casts a shadow. Every God has a Devil. And even the gentlest, most wondrous of places must have its reckoning.
For Dreamland, that reckoning had a name, spoken only in hushed tones: Kirby.
No one knows exactly where this viscous, formless blob of pure hate came from. Some have said that it was the act of an idle God that left a creation half-completed. From there, the hellspawn took out its resentment at being unfinished upon the first world it arrived on. The inhabitants of the world - birds, maids armed only with brooms, even ordinary citizens out for a walk with a parasol - quickly fell victim to the relentless onslaught of this blobby horror.
I WILL DEVOUR YOUR LIVESTOCK. I WILL DEVOUR YOUR WILDLIFE. I WILL DEVOUR YOU.
It wasn't enough for Kirby, the amorphous mass of terror, to simply destroy his enemies. No. Every being needs sustenance, and Kirby found his fill by devouring the citizens of Dreamland whole. Entire populations, from the agrarian peoples of the Green Greens to the denizens of Castle Lololo, were wiped out, digested in a matter of seconds into a meteorite-like substance that was nigh-unstoppable when projected as high-velocity vomit. They tried to flee to the clouds. It was no use. The monster could fly, fashioning its bulk into a terrifying flesh zeppelin, spewing gusts of wind with the power of a Force Twenty hurricane.
YOUR MACHINE OF CANVAS AND IRON FAILS TO IMPRESS ME. WITNESS THE POWER OF UNTETHERED SKIN AND LUNG.
Handfuls of residents fled to the lands of food, seeking refuge among places like Vegetable Valley, Ice Cream Island and the Orange Ocean. They thought that perhaps hiding amongst such a bounty would satiate the hunger of the beast. In fact, this would only make the monstrosity's hunger even greater. Kirby's madness truly came into being when he invaded these lands. It was no longer enough to devour his enemies. It was here that he began wearing their skins as trophies. He became a mockery of his fallen foes, mimicking their last helpless efforts at self-defence like a sadistic performance. When at last Kirby tired of a specific costume, he would allow it to pass from his bowels, a final insult to his victims.
THE LIGHT OF YOUR FLAME BRINGS NO SAFETY. SOON I SHALL TAKE IT AND MAKE IT MY OWN.
And still the horror lives on, always hungry, always hunting. Worse yet, his powers only grow, to the point where he is devouring the greatest heroes of our age: Mario, Sonic, Link, Zelda...no one is safe.
No one. Only a Fool believes otherwise.