I sit in an office writing a letter of resignation, trying to get everything taken care of before it’s too late. I realize that this is doing nothing to prolong my days, and that someone else can take care of my paperwork after I’m gone. I leave the office.

I walk through a park on a perfect day. The only cloud in the sky is right in front of the sun. It is bright but not too bright. It’s wear-anything weather. A cartoonish airship lands in the park. It looks like an ornate gondola, covered in gold. This doesn’t strike me as the least bit odd.

Several people, drawn like cartoon and video game characters, get out of the ship. A leader emerges: a diminutive handyman just different enough from Mario to avoid any pesky copyright-infringement lawsuits. He says they want to visit and pay tribute to the newly-minted mother and her newborn.

I take them to the hospital. We move quickly because I don’t want to get slowed down by people giving me their sympathies and their well-wishes; there’s too much left to do.

We get to the maternity ward. I bring Not-Mario in and leave the others in the hallway. The mother is glowing with pride and cradling her sleeping newborn daughter. I step back and watch as Not-Mario bows and speaks with great reverence to the mother and heralds the arrival of the baby.

I turn and see my girlfriend standing in the doorway. She looks confused and panicked, and she asks if the baby is mine, if I am seeing this other woman. I tell her that it’s not my child, that I’m not seeing the woman, but that my job was to protect them. She is not assured.

Not-Mario invites the other cartoons into the room. I tell my girlfriend that I’ve told her the truth and that there’s nothing more I can do and I can’t stay. I leave her in the doorway and Not-Mario and his people at the mother’s bedside.

I wander back into the park feeling like the movie is coming to a blissful end. Crowds are leaving the park and heading towards the hospital to greet the newborn.

I see that the villain, vanquished earlier, has tried to escape in his aircraft, but he is shot down in the far-away sky. I expect a massive mushroom cloud upon impact, but it never comes. Maybe he escaped after all. I don’t worry about it.

I look for Not-Mario’s gondola, which is now somehow parked near a bar. To get to it I walk past a tree that seems to have a face that might be smiling. I tell the tree that the mother and baby are fine. Now the tree is definitely smiling.

I worry for a moment about my family and friends. And then I think to myself, they’ll be fine. I climb into the gondola and it launches.