Yu-Gi-Oh is the property of Konami and Kazuki Takahashi, and this work is only a very appreciative celebration, from which we hope to derive no profit of any kind.
"You were in there, huh?" Rex points up at the castle. Night's falling on Duelist Kingdom, and it's a cold night. The setting sun glints off the three star chips embedded in his dueling glove. One glove! Much good that does, on a cold, cold night like this! And star chips: Pfft, what good are they? You can't eat star chips, or keep warm with them.
"Yeah." Weevil wraps his cold-cold arms around his cold-cold legs, but all that does is make him more cold. "He said he could never be happy without at least one night with me." He flicks a look over at Rex, to see how he's taking the brag.
"Uh-huh." Rex snorts.
"Think what you want to, douche-target. I Iwas/I in there," Weevil says. "And I Iwas/I with him. His shorts are red just like his dueling costume," he says, "and his ding-dong's all pink and hairy."
"Let me guess," says Rex. "He said he'd give you something if you blew him…"
"Star chips," Weevil mumbles. "He said he'd give me ten star chips."
"Ha," says Rex. "Lo-ooo-ser! I held out for victory in the tournament at least."
"Well what happened to your victory then? Why aren't you up at the castle with the semi-finalists?"
"What happened to your star chips?" Rex eyes Weevil's dueling glove.
Weevil looks down at it. "I lost three to Bonz," he says. "Then a skinny kid with black hair ran off with four more of them." He sighs. "How about you, Rex: You still waiting for your win in the tournament?"
Rex shakes his head. "Pegasus is a lying sack of crap."
"A douchey-McDoucher-Kins." Weevil puts an arm around his friend's shoulder. "Well, no point us being cold all night," he says, "not when we have each other."
"You want to borrow my sleeping bag again, right?" Rex looks at him. "Get bent, Underwood. Or better yet, make your insects keep you warm." He unrolls the five and a half feet of dino-printed coziness that is his sleeping bag, and crawls inside, letting out little, contented moans of pleasure, every time the warmth touches one more cold inch of him.
"Screw you, Raptor." Weevil wraps his cold arms around his cold legs, but cold + cold, still equals cold. He stares up at the castle. "I'd have done it with you, star chips or no star chips, Pegasus," he says softly. "You're the Creator of Duel Monsters, it's the least I could do." And the cold, cold night settles around him, and after a while he sleeps. And up at the castle, the action carries on without him.
