To call Wario a disgusting greedy bastard would be... well, greatly understating things, honestly. A fat, vicious oaf who's only concern was profit and self-gratification, he wanted nothing more than to be rich and live a lavish lifestyle. He'd raided tombs, sided with evil warlords, and even beat up an army of pirates led by the sleek, sexy Captain Maple Syrup, and stole all of her loot. He'd saved the day a few times, but he did so only in the name of profit.
His first mission involved hiring (GIVING away money physically hurt Wario) an alien mercenary named Tatanga to invade a neighboring kingdom and capture the Princess that Mario's brother, Luigi, was dating. Luigi was hurt while trying to stop Tatanga, Mario heading to stop him. Which left Wario free to take over the private island Mario had been given by Princess Peach. Mario had eventually taken back the island, but Wario wasn't deterred. He kept coming back, making Mario's life miserable. He even acquired a partner in crime, Waluigi, whom he sometimes worked with. The sneaky bastard was better at planning than Wario, which he could appreciate.
Wario had eventually started his own company, making a small fortune selling games that were actually a compilation of several short, five second minigames. But it was never enough. He always wanted more glory, more treasure, more power, more garlic... What? He liked garlic. He could even get superpowers by eating a special, ultra-fermented garlic.
Right now, wearing his belly-exposing biker outfit, a blue shirt, violet pants, a denim vest, yellow fingerless gloves and a yellow helmet with goggles, he was riding towards a new treasure. Something called a 'cookie clicker,' which was said to look innocuous but hold the key to ruling the world. The fat, evil gasbag chuckled to himself as he imagined himself swimming in a sea of gold coins. Eventually he came to where the cookie clicker was supposed to be, stopping his bike at the entrance to the temple. He found himself met at the door by a tall, withered-looking man in a brown robe dotted with black spots, which made Wario think of chocolate chip cookies.
"HOLD!" the monk said. "You are not welcome here! I sense the evil intent in your heart!"
"You're a good judge of character, then," Wario cackled, playing with his long, lightning bolt-shaped mustache.
"You come seeking the cookie clicker. You seek the riches its cookies can bring," the monk intoned. "But you know not the destruction it can bring, too! What is money to the lives of others? What are cookies to other foods? You cannot know the... are you picking your nose?"
Indeed, one finger was buried deep in Wario's nose, the brute twisting it around in his big beak. "Hm?" he said, withdrawing his finger and flicking away whatever was on it. "I'm sorry, were you speaking? I tend to zone out when losers talk about stuff I don't care about!"
"FIEND!" the monk declared. "You won't stop me! I am the guardian of the temple! I will never let you-"
Wario held up his hand. "I'mma let you finish, but I got a question first. Are you the ONLY guardian of the temple?"
"Yes," the monk said, realizing his mistake too late. "I mean NO! My entire order is here, and-"
"Right," Wario said, amused. He turned his back to the monk and bent over, sticking his butt in the air. Before the monk could figure out what was going on, a noxious, thunderously loud fart ripped from Wario's ass, engulfing the monk in a toxic green cloud. Choking, coughing, he fell to his knees, barely able to stand up even with his staff. Wario, flipping him off, rode right by him, cackling madly.
"The traps..." the monk coughed. "Sure the traps will stop him..." He staggered back to the temple, the fumes from Wario's fart making him ill. "Good lord, what does that man eat?" It took him a half-hour to get back to the temple. But by then it was too late. He saw Wario riding towards him, holding up the cookie clicker triumphantly.
"Should have hid it in a bigger temple, loser! WAHAHAHAHA!" Wario cackled, running the man over with his bike and driving off into the distance.
The monk just lay there, tire-track across his chest, all hope gone. "It... is over... the world is doomed..."
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