Tch. Idiots.

Oh, yes. I haven't yet introduced myself, have I? My true name is Egyptian, and quite possibly too difficult for you to pronounce. However, you know me by the surname of the human I've chosen as my host. Bakura. Or, as I prefer, Yami Bakura.

And since we are on the subject of the host in question, let me begin by saying, once again: idiots. Why do I say this? Well, you, of all people, should know. I have read your stories, mortals. And I am not amused. Especially at the astonishing number of 'romance' stories popping up on the 'web'. The web. Interesting term. A spider web, perhaps? A web to draw in all of you humans so bent on pairing me with the most unsuitable people? Perhaps. However, unfortunately, there is no sign of a spider.

All right, you pathetic mortal 'fans'. I shall bestow upon you lucky numbers my opinions and thoughts, a blessing that very few people are granted. I usually kill them first. Seated? No? Perhaps you should. The following words are, I expect, going to be quite a shock to your idealistic, romantic mentalities.

Suitably comfortable? Strapped in, perhaps? Excellent. Then we shall begin. Let me first bring up the topic of a possibly sexual relationship between myself and my host. Oh, very well, if you insist. My *light*. Or 'hikari', for you fans who refuse to speak one language. Whatever gave you the idea that there is any attraction between us? If you haven't noticed, dear mortals, we have, not a love/hate relationship, but a hate/hate relationship. I despise having to need him to survive. He despises having me haunting his mind and possessing his body. Ah, yes, there's a healthy relationship. Of course we should eventually fall in wildly passionate love. Never mind the fact that we have one body between us. That should make the honeymoon quite interesting, wouldn't you say? A large amount of flexibility would be necessary, I think. Oh, do be quiet Ryou, you self-righteous little prude. I am attempting to set these people straight. I don't need you having convulsions in the background. And you may act sweet and innocent, but I know for a fact that you have some ve-ry interesting magazines hidden under your pillow. Ha. Of course you did. I believe you completely. Now get the hell back in your soul room.

Now where were we? Ah yes. Ryou. My very close and dearly beloved torture victim. Oh, and while we're on the topic of abuse, I'd like to bring up one thing. Who in the nine hells came up with the idea that I physically torture him until he is scarcely able to move? May I ask you if you people inhale the strange and intoxicating chemical called 'Windex' before you begin to write? Have you no sense? Although I must admit the prospect of beating him severely with a pair of red hot pokers is quite interesting, the result would be very detrimental to my master plans. As I believe I've mentioned before, we have but one body between the two of us. Do you people make it a habit to whack your cars with steel pipes every morning? Of course you don't. So I don't molest the only mode of transportation *I* have, thank you very much. A body must be kept in perfect condition for it to be useful. Not a torn-up, bloody husk that will only serve to impede my progress.

Okay, maybe I did stab myself once or twice. But the wounds were shallow! Shut up, Ryou. Shut up. Dammit, shut up! I am trying to talk to these people here. Right. Oh, I heard a question somewhere out there. Repeat it please, my hikari is being exceptionally rude. What do you mean, I'm attached to him? In what way? Well, there's a good explanation for that. I don't let Ryou throw me away because his body is the most suitable for my purposes. Are you smiling in a perverted manner? What do you mean, 'I want his body?' Look, you're about three words away from a trip to the shadow realm, all expenses paid. Now, look. I need his body for technical reasons only. It's very hard to gain ultimate power when you're a disembodied spirit, isn't it? So I won't let anything happen to him because he is my means to an end, and THAT IS ALL. Understood? Are we understood? Excellent. And we won't even begin to talk about the possibility of him committing suicide. Honestly, do you really think that I wouldn't notice? We happen to be linked in mind and spirit, a point that has been brought up in several of those unbearably romantic stories of yours.

Now that that topic is put, hopefully, out of the way for now, it is time for me to draw out my list of subjects and see what other travesty of my character you so- called fans have committed. Ah, I see. Putting me in yet another stupid romance, this time with my enemy of all enemies, the pharaoh. For the love of Ra, people, I should think I wouldn't even have to talk about this. Let's see, on one hand: a tomb robber. That would be me, of course. Ransacker of holiest places, murderer of souls, defiler of temples, and basically the worst kind of criminal you could come up with in ancient Egypt.. On the other hand: Golden Boy, King of Games, high-and- almighty pharaoh of all of bloody EGYPT, and such a do-gooding, heroic, know-it-all that I shudder to even think of him. Ah, love is in the air, is it not? I can definitely feel the romantic sparks in the atmosphere. Oh wait, that was just me lighting that ridiculous hairstyle of his aflame. Sorry. My mistake. Is that you I hear snickering in the background, Ryou? Would you mind SHUTTING THE HELL UP?

Sorry about that. I'm sure many of you wonderful fans of mine are quite familiar with the trouble of hearing voices in one's head.

Right, next item of business. We're moving on to straight couplings. Oh, hell, I dropped the paper. Pick that up for me will you? Right, let's see the next on the list. What's it say? HOLY RA ON A PLAID DONKEY! What in the nine hells is this? What do you mean it's a perfectly eligible coupling? That's Tea, for the love of Osiris! The girl who goes on and on about friendship and teamwork a-and good things! I'm a villain, you hear me? A villain! I'm a cruel, back-stabbing, low-down bastard of an Egyptian spirit! I'm a jerk! What do mean, I'm in denial? I'll show you denial! And NO, I will NOT calm down, Ryou! Give me the list. Yes, I am calm. I am perfectly calm. I am at peace with myself and the mass of crazed fan girls around me. I am perfectly calm. Now give me the list. Oh, all right. A cool, calm, and logical statement from me about this particular coupling. Hm. To put it in polite, tactful words: Tea Gardener is a wonderful girl that I happen to despise. Thank you. Are you happy now Ryou? Yes? Good. Now give me the bloody list.

I shudder to even think of what could possibly be next. Let's see. Oh, it's just a sample of writing. Let's see. 'Yami Bakura smiled happily and cuddled close to his beloved. "Ryou," he whispered longingly, staring into the limpid brown eyes of his-" What in the hell? What is this? I thought we were past same-sex couples! We're on character breaches now? Well thanks so bloody much for warning me. That little segment is going to taint my dreams for days. What do you mean, I like it? Yeah? Well come over here and say that, you puny mortal fangirl! Do you want a piece of me? Oh, for the love of Ra. Guards! Guards, please escort the young lady outside before she finds herself headless.

Where were we? Oh, character breaches. Let me say this right now. Listen up, because your very existence may depend on it. I am not a silly, starry-eyed young fool. I am not a hopeless romantic, I am not a misunderstood character who is really a big fluffy teddy bear beneath my cold exterior. Let me assure you, my interior is just as cold as my exterior. In fact, were my interior a physical landscape, I imagine it would look very close to Pluto. You know, Pluto, the furthest planet from the sun. I amaze myself with my brilliant metaphors.

Let's see, next writing sample. "Yami Bakura grabbed Ryou, ignoring his pleas for help, and began to -edited for content-" What in all that is holy? What do you think I am, a pedophile? A rapist? Is that position even possible? No, I'm serious Ryou. I have to admit to being curious as to the contents of your juvenile little minds. What are they teaching kids these days? First of all, legs would not go that way unless they were twisted at a sixty degree angle and even then it would be quite difficult. As for the rest of this, knives and razor blades belong in the kitchen and bathroom, respectively, I do not like to lick whipped cream off of anybody, and I am not interested in sex. I'm hundreds of years old, you know. You outgrow it.

I don't even have to read this next one. It's titled 'Lemon Pie'. I have learned, over many years of reading these things, that any fic with a pastry title should be kept away from. It usually involves me acting very out-of-character. Lots of fluff. I am not a fluffy person. I am, in fact, a ruthless, cool, calculating jerk. I am not good. I don't think I've ever entertained the notion. I hope this little discussion has cleared up several misunderstandings. If it hasn't, feel free to come to my office to discuss things with me personally.

And do remember, I know where you live.


Author's Note: I'll have to mention that I had to keep him from strangling my teddy bear. Now remember, if you are fans of the couplings Yami Bakura just SMASHED *glares at Yami B* Please do not be insulted. This is simply a POV fic. Not even a fic that goes into his mind. These are simply surface thoughts. For all I know, he's deeply in denial. Deeply in denial and without any good manners whatsoever.