I do not own Yu-gi-oh! This story is in my usual vein. It is inspired by a certain contest, even though it is not entered in said contest. R&R, tell me what ya think! Flames are welcome, my house is cold!

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So. I was finally regaining the trust of Yugi and his friends. Well, actually, probably just Yugi. His friends can be mighty suspicious. I don’t think they trust me. Or like me, for that matter. Probably the whole possession thing. I can’t really blame them. And I’m certainly not angry. I don’t get angry anymore. I get medication.

It started on a beautiful Sunday morning. I came out of my apartment like any other day. I’d brushed my teeth, combed my hair, used my exquisite sense of fashion to get dressed. Maybe it was the soymilk in the cereal that filled my mind with such strange thoughts. I honestly don’t know. Shaking loose hovering geometric thoughts, I hopped on my bike and sped off, to Kame Game Shop.

When I got to that welcoming building, I went in. Yugi wasn’t down yet. Instead, Yugi’s Grandpa and The Bitch were chatting at the counter. Yugi’s grandpa is all right, though he makes me a little paranoid. I always feel like he’s staring at my butt when I’m not looking. The Bitch is another matter.

After I rebuffed her advances for the fifth time, she got the hint. Insulted that I was immune to her “womanly charms” she set out to make my life a living hell. Plus, she wants to turn Yugi against me. I cannot allow that. I must find some way to defeat her; without losing Yugi in the process.

Today she was attired in her usual prostitute’s garb. Tea was wearing a tiny red leather miniskirt and a black tube top. And she was wearing cowboy boots. I ignored the boots—too obvious—and focused on the skirt.

“Hey, Tea, wow you look great!” I made a big show of gazing slowly up and down her body

She beamed. “Thanks! I just got these boots yesterday at the mall!”

I put on a troubled look. “You should wear tights with that skirt though. Otherwise, your thighs will get all chafed from rubbing together.”

She looked furious, as I’d expected. “That is not a problem for me, Marik.” She said.

I shrugged. Then Yugi came down. He was looked so cute, in his usual bondage wear. Aww, cute little blonde bondage doll.

“Hey Marik, are you ready to go the museum?” he asked me.

I nodded, putting on my cutest grin. Tea was doing some fast thinking. I could see her cunning, animal mind working furiously.

“The museum! Great! I can’t wait! It’s been way too long since we went there, Yugi.” She came up with finally.

“Uhhh—“ Yugi looked guilty. “Actually, Tea, we’re taking Marik’s bike. There wouldn’t be room for you. Sorry.” He said. He walked out the door.

“Too bad you couldn’t come, Tea.” I said sweetly, and walked out after Yugi.

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“Shouldn’t you have a helmet on, Marik?” Yugi asked.

“Don’t worry, Yugi, I’m a great driver.” I grinned. “Hold on tight.” He wrapped his arms around my waist. We sped off to the museum.

We got to the museum. I congratulated myself on my genius. I knew boatloads about all the exhibits, both from my life in general and because my sister worked here. I came off as very suave and knowledgeable.

It went great until the end. We’d seen everything, and I was flirting and trying—successfully—to get Yugi to go with me to lunch and a movie. I told him how much I liked him and he was blushing so hard his eyes watered, when I saw Weevil Underwood. That bowl haircut. That voice. The short pants. Those funky glasses.

“Oh, I’m sorry Yugi, I just remembered I have a dentist appointment at noon. How about next Sunday?” I asked.

“Sure Marik. See ya!” I leaned down and pecked him on the forehead. He gave me the cutest smile and left. And then I had eyes only for Weevil Underwood. I sidled casually up to him.

“Hey Weevil.” I winked. “Interested in some more cards from Egypt?”

He nodded. I could see the greedy look in his eyes.

“Follow me then.” I led him out into the alley behind the museum.

“So what about those cards?” he asked nervously.

“I have them under this cinderblock.” I said, lifting the old cinderblock up.

“Huh?”

I smashed the cinderblock into his face. His annoying glasses cracked and bent just like I’d pictured them. He was unconscious. I walked over to the dumpster and reached in, getting a jug of gasoline and some rope. I quickly hogtied him and put him feet first in an old oil drum. I slapped his boyish cheeks until woke up.

His first impulse, predictably, was to scream. I stuffed an old rag into his mouth. His eyes bulged in horror as I poured the gasoline over his head. He wasn’t stupid, he could guess what would happen next. I lit his hair, and glowing flames spread like a halo, like a hug, over his entire body. I sat on the cinderblock and admired my work. Soon the sweet, delicious smell of barbequing meat hit my nostrils. Unfortunately, I’m a vegetarian.

Finally, when only his glasses were left, I walked away. Third duelist this week. I’d be okay tonight. But tomorrow, I feared, I would dream in geometric patterns.