By Ken Hollow, battle-scarred manager of one (1) fox spirit influencer

Look, managing an influencer is basically a boss fight.

You’re dodging mood swings like AoE attacks, surviving late-night content panics, and negotiating collabs like you’re defusing a bomb with your teeth. If I had a potion for every time Nana Vix asked me to “reschedule the full moon livestream because Mercury’s in Gatorade again,” I’d be invincible.

So naturally, I got to thinking: which video game bosses would actually thrive in this line of work? Who would run a tight influencer operation, and who would cry during a brand meeting because the color scheme didn’t match their tragic backstory?

Let’s rank them, shall we?

S-Tier: Bowser (Super Mario Series)

This king of Koopas knows a thing or two about branding. Consistent color palette? Check. Recurring appearances in spin-offs and merch lines? Absolutely. Always on message? Yes, even when kidnapping.

Bowser would manage influencers like a mob boss with a Canva Pro subscription. He’d secure deals with energy drinks, fitness brands, and NFT dungeons before breakfast. His talent contracts would be aggressive but weirdly fair.

Verdict: Surprisingly good at networking. Scary in meetings. Would definitely follow up on deliverables.

A-Tier: GLaDOS (Portal Series)

Hyper-intelligent. Always watching. Passive-aggressive in a way that hurts your soul. GLaDOS would be that manager: the one who schedules your entire content calendar down to the nanosecond, automates your captions, and then gaslights you about your own analytics.

Would she get you deals? Yes. Would you be emotionally stable? Absolutely not.

Verdict: 10/10 campaign execution. 0/10 mental health support.

B-Tier: Sephiroth (Final Fantasy VII)

Look. He looks like he should be a fantastic influencer manager. He’s got the long hair. The dark vibes. The sword. But he’s also deeply dramatic, wildly unstable, and tends to burn down cities when he doesn’t get his way.

Managing a brand partnership with Sephiroth would involve five costume changes, three philosophical monologues, and probably an astral projection of your childhood trauma.

Verdict: Fashion-forward. A menace in Slack.

C-Tier: Lady Dimitrescu (Resident Evil Village)

Elegant. Iconic. Huge.

Unfortunately, she’d demand full creative control, ignore your upload schedule, and eat at least one junior talent every quarter. Not great for morale.

Verdict: Would slay on TikTok. Also would literally slay.

D-Tier: Handsome Jack (Borderlands Series)

Jack would treat influencer management like a hostage situation. He’d run a network of talent and force them to promote his brand of moon-based skincare using explosives.

Yes, he’s charismatic. Yes, he understands the algorithm. No, you should not work with him.

Verdict: Psychotic techbro. Probably already has a startup.

F-Tier: Chaos (Stranger of Paradise: Final Fantasy Origin)

Would forget every deadline, scream about CHAOS during brainstorming sessions, and post blurry selfies with no captions.

Verdict: Fired in under 24 hours.

Honorable Mention: Nana Vix (Technically Not a Boss Fight… Yet)

She’s not a final boss (though she’s definitely bossy), but Nana’s taught me more about emotional resilience than any raid ever has. Between her demands for gold, velvet backdrops, and “spiritual alignment” before each collab, I’ve seen things no marketing course could prepare you for.

Verdict: The influencer equivalent of a secret optional boss with a 2% drop rate. And I work for her.

Conclusion

So next time your client wants you to reskin a brand post into a 6-part cosmic redemption arc, ask yourself: What would Bowser do? And then do the opposite.