No Fun

Yami Malik switched off the television and groaned.

" Being evil's no fun any more!" he exclaimed. Yami Bakura, who was playing with a few knives, a potato and some red dye, dropped all three and stared.

"What do you mean it's no fun any more?!?!?" He half-yelled. Yami Malik shrugged.

"It's just got no point. You always lose and nobody likes you!" He explained. "And evil people are never photogenic!"

"You're worried about how you look?" Yami Bakura asked, hacking once again into his potato. Red die splattered everywhere. "That's a new one…" He muttered to himself. "Besides," He continued, "You won against me,"

"Are you telling me you're good?!"

"no, but you said bad people always lose. We've both won plenty of times."

"Yes, but no matter how many people you kill/torture/send to the shadow realm, the good guy- Yami in this case- always beats you in the end! It's a classic anime!"

"I don't like what you're implying."

"This is all your fault." Yami Bakura muttered, eyes narrowed into slits.

"I'm fed up with being evil. Besides, if everybody likes us, we'll be able to take over the world."

"Three things. Firstly, nobody's gonna like us because we have a reputation for being evil. Second, I thought you said you were being good and that means no taking over the world. Thirdly and lastly, you're still going to have fangirls no matter good or bad, and when you're good, that means you can't kill them/torture them/send them to the shadow realm."

"I s'ppose. But Yami seems to cope quite well."

"That's because whenever any fangirls come, he switches to Yugi."

"Oh... Look, your tie's all wonky."

"I don't damned care!" Yami Bakura ripped of the damned tie and defenestrated it. With a splat, it landed on the road, only to be promptly run over by a prompt car. Yami Malik slapped his forehead, and almost fell over. He hadn't meant to slap that hard.

"Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!" A terrible beast yelled her war cry, striking fear into the hearts of all Bishounen who could hear. There was a mad rush as everybody, Bishie and haggis alike, tried to get away from the incommodo amor femina, or annoying fangirl. Only a few of the braver, eviller Bishounen lingered behind. The fangirl attacked.

A few minutes later, the Bishounen Rescue Team Van arrived, armed with stilton, bombs and post-box costumes. Yami Malik was desperately trying to drag Yami Bakura away from the Fangirl.

"Being nice means... No... Killing/torturing/sending to the shadow realm!" He groaned. "How many donuts have you been eating?"

"Hey!"

"I don't know how Yami can survive.." Yami Bakura mused. Yami Malik had forced him- literally- into a (not so) suitably black and red apron, and demanded that they would cook something. That something turned out to be a cake. Who knew that making a cake could be so hard?

Actually, it was quite fun to start with. Much to Yami Malik's grief, Yami Bakura managed to practically destroy the whole kitchen, but now it wasn't as fun. Despite the aprons, both Yamis were completely covered in flour, eggs (Yami Malik (foolishly) decided to try and see if he could balance an egg in his hair for longer than Yami Bakura. He won, of course, but It was very eggy), and sugar. Furthermore, Yami Bakura jogged his "friend" whilst he was putting in the yeast- not only did the recipe state not to use yeast, but at least three times as much yeast as if it would have been a loaf of bread went in.

The cake exploded in the oven, bursting the door open and splattering the already-incredibly-messy kitchen. The cake itself was all over the oven, as it had spread to at least six times the size it should have been.

"You're tidying up." Yami Malik firmly decided. "I'm making the beds." With that, he stormed off. Yami Bakura sighed.

A while later, Yami Malik and Yami Bakura were cleaning up the flat. Well, Yami Malik was. Yami Bakura was doing something... a little... different.

CRRAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yami Bakura laughed as his feather duster swept across the collection of ornaments on the mantelpiece. Just for good measure, he stamped on the pieces on the floor. Time for that red dye.

"What's going on? Yami Malik asked, coming downstairs. He half-gasped. Yami Bakura was sitting uncomfortably on the floor, clutching a bloody hand. Shards of broken ornaments littered the floor.

"You've been at the red dye again, haven't you?"

"Damn."

"Okay, so cooking-" Yami Malik started.

"Failed." Yami Bakura finished for him.

"It was your fault."

"Yup," Yami Bakura grinned with such false innocence it made Yami Malik groan.

"Cleaning-"

"Failed!" Yami Bakura once again interrupted, getting a little bit hyper.

"Do I need to say who's fault that was?"

"Me! It was my fault!" Yami Bakura yelled, completely hyper now.
"Ph34R TH3 3VILN3SS OF DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" He suddenly screamed, completely hyperly again. Yami Malik

jumped.

"What was that for?" He questioned.

"Being nice is too hard. I needed to let my evilness out somehow. I'm being evil again, It's much easier." Yami Bakura

"I'll go get a potato." Yami Malik mused, going out to the still-incredibly-messy kitchen. Yami Bakura slumped down on a random chair.

"Don't forget the red dye!" Yami Bakura called through to the kitchen.

"I think we've run out," was the reply.

"I'll have to use something else then..." Yami Bakura reached for his really sharp knife.

"Only kidding!"

"Damn."

---

I actually wrote this a while ago whilst being hyper (obviously). Notes: The male form of a hag is now a haggis. Don't argue.