Post by Rockinmuffin on Feb 25, 2007 20:46:10 GMT -5
Disclaimer: I don’t own Yugioh… Yeah, I’m running out of creative things to say…
Page 8
You shivered at the thought of running into that perverted cat burglar again, however, you knew that running away from the situation wasn’t the answer. Instead, you decided to investigate the rustling sound and prayed that it wasn’t the white-haired freak.
You turned back towards the darkened room, prepared to take on the potential threat head-on. Slowly, you crept towards the source of the rustling on your tippy-toes and were met with a sight that both shocked and relieved you.
“…Get off the floor, Joey” you scolded.
There, rolling around on the floor, half-asleep and drooling, was Tristan’s roommate. You weren’t sure why or even how he got there without anyone noticing, but you weren’t about to question it. Hell, according to Tristan, one time Joey had gotten himself stuck inside a bank vault overnight because he thought he saw a piece of pizza on the floor and jumped in. You couldn’t imagine how it was so hard to detect him; perhaps it was just another of those many secrets in life, like how a boy born and raised in Japan got a Brooklyn accent.
You lightly kicked the boy’s form. When you got no response other than an incoherent mumble, you kicked him hard in the rib.
That woke him up. Yay.
“Who took my waffles?!” he shouted as he sat up, his eyes wide and his chest heaving. Obviously, Joey was very possessive of his dream-waffles.
You looked down at him with a bored look. “Is food the only thing you think of?” As if you were one to talk. You would whore yourself out if it meant you got a decent meal for free.
And that, children, is the only reason that women go on dates with losers and idiots; for the free food. Who needs morals and self-respect when you can have cake?
Joey, whom had already forgotten what he was dreaming about, looked up at you tiredly, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “Huh? Is’sat you, Mommy?”
“Not quite.” You kneeled down so that you were at the boy’s eye level. “Care to tell me why you’re sleeping on the floor of the museum?”
The boy stared up at you, still rubbing his eyes. “Ya mean, this isn’t my room?”
You glared down at the sleepy, blonde idiot. “Are you stupid or something?”
Before Joey’s sleep-dazed mind even gave him a chance to respond, you promptly grabbed the boy’s ear, dragging him off to the security room where all the monitors for the camera were set up. You needed to have a serious talk with Mako about intruders.
“I swear, if I find out that boy was singing along to old, tasteless songs on the job again…” you drawled off as you thought up ways to punish the moron. You finally settled on scraping his nipples off with a cheese grater. Except… you were pretty sure that there weren’t any ancient, gold-plated cheese graters or anything of the sort inside the museum that you could use. “Oh well. I guess I’ll just have to use a paperclip or some scissors.”
“Wha’chu talkin’ ‘bout, Mommy?”
“I’m not your mommy, dumbass!”
The authoress would type out the rest of the dialogue, however, it pretty much was just Joey saying stupid things and you insulting his intelligence every time he opened his mouth to speak. And that, for the most part, is boring and unimportant. The great authoress has spoken. So there.
You and Joey finally reached the security camera room (or whatever the heck you want to call it). You reached to open the door but found that it was locked. Instead of doing the reasonable thing and taking the key to the room out of your pocket, you did the more violent, entertaining, and unreasonable thing.
You used Joey’s head as a battering ram and slammed the door open.
Luckily for you (and Joey), Joey’s skull was so thick that it easily knocked the door down without even splitting his head in two. The worst that would happen was that Joey could get a concussion, but it’s not like it would matter; in your opinion, Joey always acted like he’d just taken a huge blow to the head.
In case you haven’t noticed, the authoress is very cruel to comic-relief characters. And also talks about herself in third person.
Ahem. Moving on…
You looked about the room in search of Mako and found him huddled in the corner, sucking his thumb, and rocking back and forth in a fetal position. Tristan was sitting by Mako’s side, patting the man’s shoulder and offering him a bag of chips in condolence.
Wait a minute… That was your bag of chips!
“Rawr! FOOD!” Joey shouted as he magically healed from his concussion and pounced on both Tristan and Mako, wrestling the boys for the coveted bag of potato chips.
You quickly scooted as far away from the boys as you could. You were still hungry and you wanted those chips but you weren’t willing to lose a limb for them. You’d just wait and eat until you got home or something.
Once Joey had successfully gained possession of the snack food he snuggled it to his bosom like it was his newborn child and kissed it affectionately.
“Dude,” Tristan started, giving his roommate a queer look, “It’s just a bag of chips.” Joey hissed at Tristan in a feral manner than proceeded to devour his prize. Just like those types of insects that devour their young. So cute. Tristan scooted away from Joey and closer to you. “What’s he doing here?” he questioned in a whisper.
“As if I’m supposed to know” you answered back as you crossed your arms with a scowl spreading over your features. “I’m not his mother.”
“Why must’ya deny our relation, Mommy?”
“Shut the hell up, Joey!” you shouted back, smacking him on the back of the head. You would’ve attempted to steal a chip from him as well, but you weren’t in the mood to get your fingers bitten off at the moment. Maybe some other time.
You turned back to Mako whom was still huddled up in the corner, now looking worse for the wear since he had gotten a couple scratches and a bloody nose from when Joey attacked him and stole the chips. “Mako, you have footage from tonight’s camera’s, right?”
The tanned male looked up at you nervously. “Y-yes…”
“Good” you said to yourself as you prepared the video for the camera in the Ancient Egyptian display, rewinding it back to a few moments ago so that you could show the face of the burglar to your fellow members of the night-shift (and Joey) and have the video prepared for the police once they arrived on the scene.
You played the video watching with little interest as you dramatically rolled across the floor on the black and white monitor screen. Tristan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at you when he saw the burglar grab you. You responded by punching him in the shoulder, hard, and told him to shut up and pay attention to the video.
Just as the burglar was about to remove his mask, the screen fuzzed out and reappeared with an image of Mako Tsunami wearing nothing but an undershirt, his boxers, sunglasses, and a pair of tube socks as he danced around like an idiot and lip-synched to a song you couldn’t hear since the cameras didn’t pick up sound.
You slowly turned towards Mako, glaring at him with daggers as he gulped nervously. “Mako…” you started out slowly, “Don’t tell me that the rest of the footage on the camera is nothing but you dancing around like a fairy and making a fool of yourself.”
“No… There’s more than just me on the camera…”
“For your sake, you’d better hope so- HOLY CRAP!” you interrupted yourself as the image on the video changed from Mako’s bad dancing to you changing your clothes in the locker room. You quickly jumped in front of the screen, blocking it before anyone got a free show. If they wanted to see you naked then they had to buy you dinner first. “YOU PERVERT! You’re worse than that stupid burglar. Now we don’t have his face on film!”
Tristan came over to you and patted your head lightly. “Well, look at the bright side.”
You glared at him. “What bright side?”
“Well, if we lose our jobs then we can just make money by selling this tape to lonely old men!”
“…”
SMACK!
“I was only trying to lighten the mood” Tristan muttered bitterly as he rubbed his sore cheek for a second time that night.
You sighed to yourself as you left the room and headed towards the Domino Museum’s entrance to wait for the cops. Maybe if you were lucky they’d take pity on you and arrest you so that you could be taken away from the idiots you were forced to co-exist with.
Soon enough, the high-pitched wail of a police siren invaded your ear drum and flashing blue and red lights could be seen through the glass door of the museum.
But the police weren’t the only ones whom had arrived. Oh no, you could never be so lucky.
“_____!” called out a loud, PMS-ing voice that was so melodic that it reminded you of the sound of nails scratching against a chalkboard.
It was your boss and the owner of the museum; Seto Kaiba.
Sorry my dear, but no escape for you.
Deal with the prick on page 17
Page 8
You shivered at the thought of running into that perverted cat burglar again, however, you knew that running away from the situation wasn’t the answer. Instead, you decided to investigate the rustling sound and prayed that it wasn’t the white-haired freak.
You turned back towards the darkened room, prepared to take on the potential threat head-on. Slowly, you crept towards the source of the rustling on your tippy-toes and were met with a sight that both shocked and relieved you.
“…Get off the floor, Joey” you scolded.
There, rolling around on the floor, half-asleep and drooling, was Tristan’s roommate. You weren’t sure why or even how he got there without anyone noticing, but you weren’t about to question it. Hell, according to Tristan, one time Joey had gotten himself stuck inside a bank vault overnight because he thought he saw a piece of pizza on the floor and jumped in. You couldn’t imagine how it was so hard to detect him; perhaps it was just another of those many secrets in life, like how a boy born and raised in Japan got a Brooklyn accent.
You lightly kicked the boy’s form. When you got no response other than an incoherent mumble, you kicked him hard in the rib.
That woke him up. Yay.
“Who took my waffles?!” he shouted as he sat up, his eyes wide and his chest heaving. Obviously, Joey was very possessive of his dream-waffles.
You looked down at him with a bored look. “Is food the only thing you think of?” As if you were one to talk. You would whore yourself out if it meant you got a decent meal for free.
And that, children, is the only reason that women go on dates with losers and idiots; for the free food. Who needs morals and self-respect when you can have cake?
Joey, whom had already forgotten what he was dreaming about, looked up at you tiredly, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “Huh? Is’sat you, Mommy?”
“Not quite.” You kneeled down so that you were at the boy’s eye level. “Care to tell me why you’re sleeping on the floor of the museum?”
The boy stared up at you, still rubbing his eyes. “Ya mean, this isn’t my room?”
You glared down at the sleepy, blonde idiot. “Are you stupid or something?”
Before Joey’s sleep-dazed mind even gave him a chance to respond, you promptly grabbed the boy’s ear, dragging him off to the security room where all the monitors for the camera were set up. You needed to have a serious talk with Mako about intruders.
“I swear, if I find out that boy was singing along to old, tasteless songs on the job again…” you drawled off as you thought up ways to punish the moron. You finally settled on scraping his nipples off with a cheese grater. Except… you were pretty sure that there weren’t any ancient, gold-plated cheese graters or anything of the sort inside the museum that you could use. “Oh well. I guess I’ll just have to use a paperclip or some scissors.”
“Wha’chu talkin’ ‘bout, Mommy?”
“I’m not your mommy, dumbass!”
The authoress would type out the rest of the dialogue, however, it pretty much was just Joey saying stupid things and you insulting his intelligence every time he opened his mouth to speak. And that, for the most part, is boring and unimportant. The great authoress has spoken. So there.
You and Joey finally reached the security camera room (or whatever the heck you want to call it). You reached to open the door but found that it was locked. Instead of doing the reasonable thing and taking the key to the room out of your pocket, you did the more violent, entertaining, and unreasonable thing.
You used Joey’s head as a battering ram and slammed the door open.
Luckily for you (and Joey), Joey’s skull was so thick that it easily knocked the door down without even splitting his head in two. The worst that would happen was that Joey could get a concussion, but it’s not like it would matter; in your opinion, Joey always acted like he’d just taken a huge blow to the head.
In case you haven’t noticed, the authoress is very cruel to comic-relief characters. And also talks about herself in third person.
Ahem. Moving on…
You looked about the room in search of Mako and found him huddled in the corner, sucking his thumb, and rocking back and forth in a fetal position. Tristan was sitting by Mako’s side, patting the man’s shoulder and offering him a bag of chips in condolence.
Wait a minute… That was your bag of chips!
“Rawr! FOOD!” Joey shouted as he magically healed from his concussion and pounced on both Tristan and Mako, wrestling the boys for the coveted bag of potato chips.
You quickly scooted as far away from the boys as you could. You were still hungry and you wanted those chips but you weren’t willing to lose a limb for them. You’d just wait and eat until you got home or something.
Once Joey had successfully gained possession of the snack food he snuggled it to his bosom like it was his newborn child and kissed it affectionately.
“Dude,” Tristan started, giving his roommate a queer look, “It’s just a bag of chips.” Joey hissed at Tristan in a feral manner than proceeded to devour his prize. Just like those types of insects that devour their young. So cute. Tristan scooted away from Joey and closer to you. “What’s he doing here?” he questioned in a whisper.
“As if I’m supposed to know” you answered back as you crossed your arms with a scowl spreading over your features. “I’m not his mother.”
“Why must’ya deny our relation, Mommy?”
“Shut the hell up, Joey!” you shouted back, smacking him on the back of the head. You would’ve attempted to steal a chip from him as well, but you weren’t in the mood to get your fingers bitten off at the moment. Maybe some other time.
You turned back to Mako whom was still huddled up in the corner, now looking worse for the wear since he had gotten a couple scratches and a bloody nose from when Joey attacked him and stole the chips. “Mako, you have footage from tonight’s camera’s, right?”
The tanned male looked up at you nervously. “Y-yes…”
“Good” you said to yourself as you prepared the video for the camera in the Ancient Egyptian display, rewinding it back to a few moments ago so that you could show the face of the burglar to your fellow members of the night-shift (and Joey) and have the video prepared for the police once they arrived on the scene.
You played the video watching with little interest as you dramatically rolled across the floor on the black and white monitor screen. Tristan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at you when he saw the burglar grab you. You responded by punching him in the shoulder, hard, and told him to shut up and pay attention to the video.
Just as the burglar was about to remove his mask, the screen fuzzed out and reappeared with an image of Mako Tsunami wearing nothing but an undershirt, his boxers, sunglasses, and a pair of tube socks as he danced around like an idiot and lip-synched to a song you couldn’t hear since the cameras didn’t pick up sound.
You slowly turned towards Mako, glaring at him with daggers as he gulped nervously. “Mako…” you started out slowly, “Don’t tell me that the rest of the footage on the camera is nothing but you dancing around like a fairy and making a fool of yourself.”
“No… There’s more than just me on the camera…”
“For your sake, you’d better hope so- HOLY CRAP!” you interrupted yourself as the image on the video changed from Mako’s bad dancing to you changing your clothes in the locker room. You quickly jumped in front of the screen, blocking it before anyone got a free show. If they wanted to see you naked then they had to buy you dinner first. “YOU PERVERT! You’re worse than that stupid burglar. Now we don’t have his face on film!”
Tristan came over to you and patted your head lightly. “Well, look at the bright side.”
You glared at him. “What bright side?”
“Well, if we lose our jobs then we can just make money by selling this tape to lonely old men!”
“…”
SMACK!
“I was only trying to lighten the mood” Tristan muttered bitterly as he rubbed his sore cheek for a second time that night.
You sighed to yourself as you left the room and headed towards the Domino Museum’s entrance to wait for the cops. Maybe if you were lucky they’d take pity on you and arrest you so that you could be taken away from the idiots you were forced to co-exist with.
Soon enough, the high-pitched wail of a police siren invaded your ear drum and flashing blue and red lights could be seen through the glass door of the museum.
But the police weren’t the only ones whom had arrived. Oh no, you could never be so lucky.
“_____!” called out a loud, PMS-ing voice that was so melodic that it reminded you of the sound of nails scratching against a chalkboard.
It was your boss and the owner of the museum; Seto Kaiba.
Sorry my dear, but no escape for you.
Deal with the prick on page 17
Ever notice how the word "therapist" is just "the" and "rapist" put together? Think about it. 