AN: Yep, I done it now. A crossover of Yu Yu Hakusho and Black Lagoon. Did I enjoy writing this? Indeed I did. Was there alcohol involved? You goddamn right there was. Now, I will not ever include this story as part of either my current Black Lagoon series or my series of Yu Yu Hakusho stories. This is purely standalone. Well, enjoy.

My piss smells bad, gotta lay off all that soda. Well, the grass in Southeastern Thailand could always use more water, heh. I sprinkle off and zip up my jean fly, standing in some giant meadow hill in the middle of nowhere. Literally, the middle of freaking nowhere. Like, we would be lucky to find anything sentient that's bigger than a dove here. My sky blue boat shoes crush an ant under my feet.

I tug on the cuffs of my white casual dress shirt with the black flame design, and I wipe some sweat off my forehead. Place is really humid, this Southeast Thailand. I turn around and face my meal ticket. Our meal ticket, and boy are we going to be eating well.

I hear the door of our newly purchased discount RV come open, and lo and behold, Shuichi Minamino, dressed in a green gas mask, black two dollar sandals, black ten dollar basketball shorts, and nothing else. He removes the gas mask and says "It is done. I am finished, finally." Kurama sounds like he is really pissed off.

I approach him and say "Yeah? Good. How many kilos we got?" He blankly says "Four. Four kilograms. I cannot believe I allowed you to blackmail me into this nonsense." Hey?! I yell "C'mon man! I needed the money! I am unemployed and you're the guy with the biochem/biotech/bioshit Masters diploma." He yells "That is not my problem! I…last time Yusuke. If you threaten to expose my demon nature to my mother again…I'm afraid I cannot guarantee that I will react reasonably."

"Oh for fuck sakes, fox boy. I wasn't serious about that, I wouldn't go that far!" He glares at me likes he wants to kill me and says "You…what?!" I slouch my shoulders and say "Okay, maybe I was a bit pushy, sorry. But look, it's all good man! We are going to split this 50/50, so relax." Kurama heaves a really pissed off sigh and says "I committed much evil in my time, but never have I synthesized narcotics. This? This, all this? I truly feel disgusted with myself. The money does not concern me." "Alright, so I'll keep all the cash for myself, no skin off my ass," I say. Fox boy wants to be that way, I'll be that way right back.

He gives me a nasty look and says "I am not letting the past few hours, plus the time spent researching a method to concoct crystal methamphetamine WITHOUT becoming tracked by a federal agency, plus the airfare, PLUS the lies I had to tell my family and my girlfriend Zinaida, I will not let that go to waste. I may just donate my portion of the proceeds to a charity, but I will not let my suffering go to waste. And honestly, I thought better of you, Yusuke. Narcotics…"

I sigh and say "Please, relax fox boy. We are in the middle of nowhere, no one is tracking you, the NTA ain't going to arrest us for tax evasion. This is easy money, really. We spent, what, three thousand bucks on all this, including the chemicals and the lab equipment? My money, by the way. With four kilos and some of my Urameshi charm, we are looking at 40 grand each, at least." Kurama throws his gas mask into the grass and sighs. He then says "What's done is done. Do you want to sample? As I have absolutely zero interest in amphetamines, I will not even dare to touch my…creation…without gloves."

I shake my head and say "Nah, last thing you need is me on speed, heh. Can I go check it out, though?" Kurama grimaces, fidgets, and says "Sure, stare on it all you want. I named it even. 'Urameshi's Folly'." Cute. He lifts his gas mask up and puts it back on, and then pulls my gas mask off a hook attached to the RV door. He tosses it to me and suddenly I feel like I'm in an Alien vs. Predator movie.

I walk up the steps to our mobile meth lab…okay I kinda had to hold back laughing on that line. Already stuffed into a shell of bubble wrap, four kilos of clear white crystal meth. Made in Japan. Kinda. "Satisfied?!" Kurama snarls. I nod and say "Yeah, satisfied. Now relax, you sound like you just ttried the stuff yourself. Maybe some of the fumes got into your nose." He growls under the mask and asks "What should we do with this vehicle? I have no intention of taking it with me to that city. The one you described as 'Roanapur.'"

I shrug my shoulders and say "I don't know. Burn it I guess? Maybe drive within a mile of the city, and then burn it. Sounds good?" He sighs under the mask and says "Nothing in this can be good, but very well." Fox boy sits his bare chested self on the passenger seat while I take the driver's seat. I sit down and suddenly think of a really good question.

"Should we put those chemical tubes and shit away or something? It's going to be bumpy driving to Roanapur." He sighs and says "I deactivated the hot plate and all other heat sources, but very well. Please, do not press the gas pedal while I am putting away glassware. I rather avoid being cut by glass stained in highly toxic chemicals."

As I hear Kurama pack away the meth gear, I pat my hands on the wheel. Could use some music…there we go. The radio. I turn it on…damn it's loud!

"Yusuke!" Kurama yells, louder than some commercial in Thai. I turn around and find fox boy gripping a dick shaped chemistry tube between his legs. Oh if only I had a camera, this is great. I wave and yell "My bad" and then turn the volume down to levels cooler and hipper with normal human beings and human/demon hybrids.

I watch fox boy stuff our golden egg into a cheap pink backpack we got at some supermarket. He zips the backpack up and returns to his seat. I turn the engine on and say "Your shirt and real pants are still hanging on the door." He sighs under the gas mask and says "Leave them be. I am doing my best to not return to Tokyo smelling like a methamphetamine lab."

Radio switches to a…Russian song? What the fuck? "Gruppa Leningrad blayt! Budem Vesilitsya, urodi!" I hear Kurama chuckling a bit under the mask, me driving over the hill and onto a dirt road. Oh yeah I remember, fox boy speaks some Russian, forgot. He asks "Who are we selling this…item…to?" "A vsoh pizdets para igrat! Hvatit vam ohuievaht! Budem vesilitsya, y budem tansivaht!" "This Hong Kongese guy I found on the grapevine. Songxie Tong or something like that." "Tansuih!" Fox boy says "I see. I look forward to exchanging curtsies with a homicidally-inclined psychotic Chinese criminal. Certainly how I expected this day to begin one week ago." "Tansuih!" I say "It's just an easy, no rough stuff kind of trade. Cash for crystal. Like a pawn shop."

The ska rock song ends and the DJ yells "Adin Shnur, dvah Shnur, yecli protihv, sosih moi hui! Gruppa Leningrad! Zvezda Rok N Rollah!" Sounds like the same band.

I hit a bump and there goes Kurama's shirt and brown pants. He mutters "Damn you." "Muziku ya polubilh! A gdeh zhe vih, roditelih? Kudah zhe smotrit shkolah? Tak yah stahl zvezdoyu, a rok n rollah!" A freaking tiger suddenly runs across the road. I damn near tipped the RV over, swerving around Byakko's cousin. Going down the hill, and shit I just lost control! "Ahuiyenah! Ahuiyenah!" RV speeds down the hill like a raging four wheeled lab of death and crank, Kurama is looking like his lives are flashing before his eyes. I smash the breaks like I'm getting paid to and I just barely avoid taking us over a cliff and into the bluish green water. Okay, that was not fun.

"Zihpa-trihpar pistohlet, mih igrayem semih leht!" Kurama blurts out "This nightmare is certainly living up as I expected it to."

We drive down the road, going under this gate with this weird noose over it. Some spooky Wild West shit over there. Radio switches to the DJ. "Shnur lubohv! Shnur zhizihn! Dolfin pidehr! A vih? Urodamii tochnoh! Gruppa Leningrad! Kogda Net Deneg!"

Kurama laughs under his mask and says "I believe the DJ just selected your song. It concerns a certain delinquent NEET complaining about being penniless." "Yeah, yeah, very funny," I say, under my mask. Kurama says "Also, I thought we were to burn this laboratory outside the city." "Whoops, too late. Eh, rather not walk the distance," I say, bullshitting a bit in that last line. Kurama catches it. He all scolding-like says "Yusuke…Yusuke."

"Potamushto netu deneg, ni rubliah, ni rubliah. Potamushto net moshina, y kvortiri net…"

A red Pontiac GTO driven by some blonde four-eyed white guy in a Hawaiian shirt zips by our house of fun, and I think I saw a mauve-haired Chinese woman throw a cigarette out of a rear window. It flies in the air, falls through my rolled down driver seat window, and into my crotch. I immediately grab the cigarette butt, she damn near got my crotch burnt. Kurama chuckles to himself as I toss the cigarette out the window. Bitch.

"Kogda net deneg! Ah net lubvih! Takayah suka, tvoi etah 'C'est la vie'!"

I cut into the city of Roanapur, address found only through the grapevine. And damn, what I grapevine I had to tightrope across. That was as close to real Yakuza toughs as I ever want to be without taking scalps. Anyway, I pass a giant bar called 'Yellow Flag', pass a few wharfs, and enter an industrial port. I take a left at a light and enter what I think is Dock 27.

I see a beat up old ass bluish green Chevy Tahoe and a Cantonese man in a black flak jacket, blue jeans, and grey sneakers, chasing a seagull around with a sledgehammer. Next to him, this tall, bald black guy in a blue French national team Zinadine Zidane jersey, jeans, and dark grey boat shoes tries to restrain the Chinese guy before he could do some damage. The seagull 'caws' and flies away.

I park the RV and exit through the door, taking my gas mask off. I take a whiff of my shirt, and yep, I now smell like a meth lab. I put my right hand by my right hip and pull my jeans up just a bit, make them think I got a piece behind my waistband. I see Kurama start to exit the RV with the pink backpack and I say "Wait, you stay there."

I turn to the two, and yell "You Songxie?!" Songxie tosses the sledgehammer onto the concrete ground and says "May-be. You Yusuke?! The Japanese?!" Okay, it's going to be hard to not laugh at his Cantonese accent and fake macho talk. I say "May-be. You got the money?" Songxie nudges the tall black guy, who then reaches into the Chevy Tahoe's rolled down rear window and pulls out a black duffle bag. The black guy tosses the duffle bag at Songxie's feet and says "Here, satisfied?" Guy got a thick French accent.

I see Kurama trying to get out of the RV again, and I wave him to stay inside. I then say "Alright Songxie boy, I ain't twelve. Show me the money." Songxie lifts the duffle bag up and unzips the bag. He then tilts it and damn, that's a sexy sight. Stacks of 20s and 50s, American. Alright, I like, I like. Songxie says "Your turn, sei zai bao." What did he just call me?! Whatever, I'm assuming it was something cute like 'wiseguy' or the like. Yeah, like I'm in a Takeshi Kitano film. I dig that.

I snap my left fingers and wave Kurama in. He climbs out with the bubble wrap bundle of crystal joy and his bare naked chest for all to see. Songxie and the black French guy start laughing hysterically. Songxie taps the French guy's right shoulder and says "Laurent, these two suck each other cock, yes?" What, the fuck did you just say?! Laurent nods and yells "Oui, oui! Sans l'ombre d'un doute!"

"Take the cursed parcel!" Kurama yells, gas mask strap hanging on his neck, looking pretty angry. He points the crystal at Songxie, I reach in and gently pull it out of his hands. I say "Enough jokes, let's talk shop. 4 kilos clean, for 100 gees American. Whaddya say?" Songxie looks taken aback and says "100 gees? Japanese got quality ice. Whaddya say my friend Laurent takes taste. It could be bath salts." Trust me, Kurama ain't synthesizing bath salts. I unwrap the bubble wrap, break off a nibble of crystal with my fingers, and toss it into the air. Songxie freaks out and chases the piece down like he's working on an All-star vote. He catches it, puffs his cheeks at us, and then hands it Laurent. Laurent puts the crystal in his right hand, crushes it like Oddjob crushed a golf ball, and shoves the powdery crap down his nose.

I hold my breath, hoping Shuichi didn't just poison somebody with bad meth. Laurent takes a step back, smiles, and then nods, saying "Putain…this is good. Not like Edgar used to make, but good. Real good. Clean." Songxie frowns and nods, saying "Good stuff, Laurent likes." Oh yeah! I clap my hands together and say "So, 100 grand for the 4 kilos. We got a deal?" Songxie smirks and says "I got a better deal. You, red haired gay boy!" I think I just saw a vein pop in Kurama's forehead. He angrily smirks and says "Yes?" Songxie says "We need a new cook, our old one got too old, you know. I pay good, even get you two room so you could fuck all day, haha!" Well, if Kurama kills these two pricks, at least we get to keep the money.

Kurama holds back killing these two assholes with a fucking rose and says "This, was an aberration. A singular instance. Find some other individual to synthesize for you, the process is not complicated." He's really struggling to keep his anger inside. Songxie, on the other hand, smirks and walks toward our RV. I pretend to put my right hand on my imaginary pistol while Kurama puts his right hand into his red hair. Rose beats gun, I'm hoping. Songxie, the prick, he just climbs on top of the RV's hood, unzips his jean fly…and whips out his uncircumcised hairy cock, using our windshield as a porta john. I mutter "Not on the RV, dickhead…"

"There, that what I think of your 'aberration'. Now go work for us, or we got problem," he has the nerve and the balls to say. Keeps that up, he's losing one of the two.

Kurama simply turns to him, pulls a rose out of his hair, and says "If you continue with that line of speaking, I'm afraid I will resort to violent and drastic measures." Songxie laughs and says "What, you gone flower me to death, sei zai bao?!" Kurama sighs and says "Little do you know, I am a demon. A Kitsune if you will. And we have a tendency to show our teeth when threatened. In fact, I have peppered your bodies with demonic seeds capable of sucking your blood clean through your arteries. The process is quite painful, I must confess."

Laurent gives a confused look and says "What you talking about, crazy man?" Kurama cracks a smirk of his own and says "I have seeds in my repertoire capable of sucking your soul clean out of your body. You two will not be judged in the afterlife, for you two will simply cease to be." Oh boy, Songxie looks a bit pale. He climbs off our RV and says "You man, you crazy. Like schizophrenic crazy. We don't hire crazies. Here, Laurent, give the duffle bag. My offer, 80 grand for 4 kilos." I smirk and push the envelope, saying "100 grand, take it or leave it." Songxie says "Fine, 100 grand. Crazy people." He reaches into the duffle bag and pulls out four stacks of 50s, tossing them back into the car. He throws the duffle bag at us, myself catching it. Kurama tosses the meth at Laurent, who catches it. Fox boy sigh and says "Very well, it's over." I say "Wait, let me count the cash." I funnel through the duffle bag…40 grand…66 grand…yep 100 grand. Sweet!

YEAH!

I say "Pleasure doing business with you two. Try not to shove all that meth up your ass." Songxie shakes his head in disgust and mutters something in Cantonese. He takes the wheel while Laurent takes the shotgun seat.

The two drive off, and we are now in the money. 100 grand.

Holy shit!

I turn to Kurama and run over to hug the guy. I bear hug the fox and yell "You the man Kurama! 50 grand! I just got myself 50 fucking grand! That's like a yearly salary!" Kurama pushes off and asks "Are we done? Can we finally return to Tokyo? And preferably, can we stop by a clothing store?"

"Yea and yea. Just want to celebrate first. I saw a taco stand nearby, and that bar over there looks like a good place to get a drink. The one called 'Yellow Flag'." Kurama sighs and says "Fine, very well." He walks into the RV, this time without the gas mask on. I take it as my cue that it's safe to not wear one too. I toss my gas mask onto the concrete floor and follow Kurama up the RV steps. Turning the ignition on, I immediately switch on the windshield wipers.

I drive up next to the taco stand that I saw by the road, and I park the RV. I then head out of the RV while Kurama follows. Let's see, some Southeast Asian looking guy manning the stand, Vietnamese I'm guessing. Taco stand…interesting. I see a logo of a football goalie standing in front of a net, with the word 'PUTO!' spelled out in comic sans right above the net. The Vietnamese guy yells in Vietnamese accented English "Welcome to Puto! Where no shirt, no problem!" O…kay.

I look up at the green and red menu, one side in Vietnamese, the other in English. Irony not lost on me. I say "I'll have one…Puto! taco." Kurama nods and says "Same." I'm guessing he's trying to avoid saying 'puto'.

Suddenly, the Vietnamese man yells "DOUBLE PUTO!" I hear a bunch of people out in the distance echo "Double Puto!" This is some Twilight Zone crap. I reach for some Thai bhat in my back pocket and pay for both of us. Within a minute, we got both of our soft shell mystery meat tacos.

I take a bite into it and the Vietnamese man yells "PUTO!" Ah shut up already…interesting. Tacos with MSG. Bold choice there. Kurama eats his taco with a look of disgust. Eh, I don't care too much for the taste, just hope I ain't eating deep fried rat. I scarf the rest of the 'thing' down as Kurama eats his taco half way through and disposes the rest in a green trash bin.

Back in the RV, I take the wheel, Kurama takes his old seat. I turn the ignition on and start up the engine. I see the 'Yellow Flag' bar up head, like five blocks away, and say "Drinks are on me, too. My treat." Kurama says like he forced himself to speak "Thank you." I hit the gas and drive off. "How was the Puto!?" I say, smirking. Kurama shakes his head and says "Most foul…WATCH OUT!"

Oh crap!

RV goes face to side with a really expensive looking black Lexus sedan. My head bounces off the steering wheel, Kurama's against the dashboard. I hear some glassware break apart and shatter. Looking through the window on the RV door, I see a few white middle aged men in the car. Oh boy, this is going to be good.

"UROD BLAYT!" I hear someone yell. Kurama anxiously says "That was Russian." Oh boy. A blonde man in a charcoal suit, sporting a thick blonde mustache, gives us the middle finger, while a tall black haired man in a dark green trenchcoat steps out of the driver seat. He has a thick scar running diagonally across his face, and short, black hair combed forward. Guy yells "Urodi! Moi mashina! Shto vih zdelalih c moi mashina?!" I see a pistol being pulled from an ankle holster.

I hit the gas and speed off, scarface running back into his car. I hear a shot go off and a bullet pierce through the roof of the car. "Just what I wanted, psychotic Russian gangsters!" I swerve and almost run over a Thai woman carrying groceries, as the beat up Lexus sedan chases us from behind. "Yusuke, please do something! I do not want Shiori to learn that her son died in a Russian gangland execution!"
"I'm trying!" I yell, another shot piercing the RV, this time breaking into the windshield. Bullet lodges in the glass like a reminder of what those nutjobs plan to do to us.

I swerve left, but the Russians keep on our ass. The radio ends some Thai commercial and the DJ yells "Menya Zovut Shnur! Vih vseh zavut Urodami!"

I drive through a street light, the pole bouncing against the asphalt and almost crushing some hobo. "Hui. Hui."

Another gunshot and I turn right into a thin alleyway. "Ochen strahnih stahl gorohd Leningrad. Bilh kulturnih stalitsiyah, ah tepehr adin mat!" I Burt Reynolds the RV through the alleyway while the Russians keep in close contact. "Menya zavut shnur, menya zavut shnur. Ya priduh k tebeh vo snah, mon amur. Invalidamih y urodami, narkomanomih, mon ami."

I swerve around an elderly Indian man, who, from my view of the side mirror, sighs in relief and then gets run over by the Russians. The Lexus pulls up to the right of the RV. I swerve right and drive the Lexus into a crowded outdoor restaurant called the China Bowl. Taking my cue, I swerve left and speed as far away from that crap as possible. "Vsehm strashnoh smotreht, a anih tolkoh radih"

Kurama heaves a sigh of relief and says "Thankfully, that has been resolved. Preferably with minimal injuries." "Oh, u kto-toh opaht serhtseh vstaloh" Sirens suddenly go off. "Novih lyudih, shto ihm starih maloh?"

Fuck.

About ten blocks from the China Bowl, I stop our RV at a sidewalk and wait for the cop to pull over behind us. For some strange reason, the cop car pulls to the RV window on my left. I roll the window down and say "Officer, that was purely self-defense and survival, those lunatics were trying to shoot us. Three Russians, in a Lexus, over by that outdoor restaurant." The officer, a middle aged Thai man with a chinstrap beard, climbs out of his squad car and approaches my window. He pulls his aviator sunglasses down and says in Thai-accented English "Seems we got ourselves a meth lab." "What? Hell no, man, just two friends taking an RV around Thailand. What's shady about that?!" The officer smirks and says "Well, I witnessed you two leaving the scene of a hit and run." "We were chased away by those crazy Russians! They were going to kill us!" The pig smirks and says "Still, I'm willing to bet I'd find something very interesting if I do a quick search. However…"

Oh it's that kind of cop. Dick. "Here, this should cover it." I reach into the black duffle bag and pull out a stack of 20s. I take out ten of the Jacksons and hand it over to the cop. He says "Much obliged, stay out of trouble." I nod, and suddenly feel my taco looking for an exit strategy. Oh crap.

As the cop counts the bribe, I puke out the window and on his shoes. As I wipe vomit off my lips, Kurama stares at me like he just seen a very gory execution.

You could cut the tension with a butter knife.

"You…YEHT MAE!" Here we go again.

I hit the gas and drive off while a psychotic homicidally-inclined Roanapurian cop chases us in his squad car, firing shots at our RV. I yell "Why didn't I puke BEFORE I gave him the bribe?!" Kurama yells "Why did you even eat that rubbish?! Why did you even drag me into this nonsense?! Why are corrupt policemen and Russian gangsters sieging my thoughts?!" "STOP YELLING!" I yell. Kurama reaches for the radio and shuts it off, yelling "If I listen to this man named 'rope' once more, I will hang myself with one!"

A shot hits the RV, and suddenly I hear a really creepy sucking sound. A fire breaks out in the back of our meth lab. I slam the breaks in the middle of an intersection, running a red light in the process. Something, I'm guessing the squad car, it rams the RV from behind, while the fire starts to get out of control. Kurama yells "We must exit!"

I shatter the windshield with my elbow and jump through. Kurama does the same. Oh crap, the money! I jump back into the RV and scoop up the duffle bag, the flames spreading to the front of the RV. I toss the duffle bag at Kurama, the fox yelling "Retrieve the backpack as well!" Why? Screw that, I jump back onto the intersection, a crowd of locals parking their cars and enjoying the show. Kurama yells "Our passports are in there!" He jumps back into the RV, grabs the pink backpack, tosses it out the RV and at my face, and suddenly yells in pain. He jumps out and fans his burning basketball shorts, and then bites the bullet and takes them off.

And here I am. In downtown Roanapur, standing outside a burning, soon to be detonating, mobile meth lab, with my red haired partner in crime, biotech graduate, and part time fox demon, who now is wearing nothing but tighty whities and cheap black sandals, nursing third degree burns on his legs. With dozens of people watching.

Must admit, I feel pretty American right now.

I tap Kurama on the shoulder and say "Might be a good idea to fuck on out of here." "Agreed," he says, as the two of us run into a dirty alleyway. I feel a strong heat coming from behind, and a pretty big explosion sounds off. And just like that, the meth cooking career of Shuichi Minamino has come to an end.

We pass the alleyway into another commercial street, seeing another alley in front of us. We run through traffic and keep running until Kurama stops by a green dumpster. He pants, puts his hands on his exposed chest, and weakly says "One moment, Yusuke." Kurama then sticks his head into the dumpster, and suddenly, thousands of miles away, across the vast Pacific ocean, in Estadio Jalisco, I imagine tens of thousands of Club Atlas ultras, and tens of thousands of Deportivo Guadalajara fanatics, and tens of thousands of Club Leones Negros crazies, all holding hands, and singing peace songs, and all waiting, just waiting, for the moment that will make all their dreams come true. And as Kurama's half eaten taco races out of his gullet and into the green dumpster, the entire stadium erupts into 'PUTO!'

Wiping his lips of vomit, Kurama heaves a deep sigh and says "Please, a clothing store. Or an airport. I would prefer either/or." We walk up to a street full of run down apartments…I see some white haired weirdo in sunglasses and a trenchcoat talking to a tall Chinese woman in red and white robes.

As we start passing them, the Chinese woman whistles and says "Look we have here." She sounds like Songxie, except feminine and not an ornery jackass. Kurama blushes and says "Pardon our appearance…it is quite a long story. Do you happen to know a nearby clothing store?" The Chinese woman smiles like she just found food, and says "No worry, I get you clothes. Come with me. Name's Shenhua."

Kurama turns to me, and I nod. We handled much worse if they try anything. And who knows, maybe there is such a thing as a free lunch.

Walking up the apartment steps, Shenhua in front, followed by almost naked Kurama, me, and this weird guy who I now know as 'Lotton', I turn to Lotton and ask "So, what you do for a living?" He freezes, pushes his sunglasses closer into his beady eyes, and says "Justice…to all…and mercy…to none. A white dove strikes…upon the wicked…" Ehh?!

I look at him like he is an idiot, odds are he is, and ask "What drugs are you on? Do they go well with sake?" I hear Shenhua say "No mind him. He stand around, look pretty, that thing." She turns to Kurama and puts her right hand on his chin, saying "Mind me. Mind me all you want." Kurama blushes and raises his hands in protest, saying "I'm flattered but..." Shenhua has none of that and shoves him into an apartment. A kitchen on the right, a brown sofa with a TV and a Nintendo 64 on the left. Shenhua motions Kurama and me to take a seat on the sofa, and says "Be back soon, with clothes." Kurama nods and says "Thank you, thank you. I have money, I will compensate." Shenhua just gives us a wink and steps through a doorway.

Okay, might as well make ourselves at home. I seat myself on the left side of the couch, duffle bag between my legs, Kurama on the right side, pink backpack on his lap, almost covering his body. These past few hours have been, well, kinda freaking crazy.

The heir of Tourin and the former big cheese of Gandara, staying in some strange woman's apartment in Southeast Asia, trying to dodge cops and Russian gangsters after a crystal meth deal. And one of us is almost naked.

A lot can happen in a short amount of time, I found out.

The Chinese woman steps back into the living and says "Okay, red hair, I have clothes." We both turn around as Kurama says "Oh, good, thank you…"

I think he saw it just as soon as I did. Is that…what I think it is?

Is that a red strap-on dildo?

I blink.

It is a ribbed red strap-on dildo. I hear Kurama shudder and say "Oh…no."

Within a few seconds, we find ourselves on the sidewalk, surrounded by broken glass, still carrying our respective bags, Kurama still in his underwear but probably relieved that his anus isn't begging for mercy.

I run. Fast. Fox boy runs even faster. I think that Chinese lady just topped Karasu on the creepy level.

Within a few hours, we saw a Chinese guy pee on our RV, a Vietnamese-run taco stand called 'Puto!', a trio of psychotic Russian gangsters, a psychotic Thai cop, and a ribbed red strap-on dildo.

We find ourselves in another alleyway. I pant and laugh "Hey fox boy, at least it matched your hair haha." "Be quiet! That was terrifying! I…oh dear! I feel violated!" Kurama yells, looking like he just suffered through a gory execution. I pant and say "Shuichi Minamino, raped again, in someone's fantasy. Guess who?" I flip on my 'George Carlin' voice and say "Ey, he was askin' for it." "Please be quiet," Kurama snarls. I add "Look at him, walking around in his tighty whities, rocking those delicate features. She got a strap on, couldn't control herself." "Yusuke…" Kurama snarls again, this time with more bite. I keep laughing and say "Just some levity, for the crappy situation we've been in. Anyway, I think I see a department store." Kurama nods and says "Good, finally. I can finally stop violating local decency ordinances."

We step into the department store and immediately get snickers from everyone on the first floor, and I ain't talking about the candy bar. Probably intending to make this last as short as possible, Kurama quickly scans the size tags on a rack of cheap jeans, and then pulls a sky blue pair out. He then walks up to a shelf full of random 'Muay Thai' shirts for tourists. He pulls out a white shirt from the shelf and approaches the register.

Dropping the jeans and shirt on the counter, he reaches into his pink backpack and pulls out a fist full of bhat. Kurama slams the bhat on the counter and says "Keep the change." The middle aged female Thai clerk says "Okay…" and starts tallying everything up. She then says "You are 5 bhat short."

Kurama nearly falls on his face after hearing that. He reaches back into the backpack and pulls out a copper coin. Satisfied that he has paid in full, Kurama immediately pulls the tags off the jeans and puts them on, right at the counter. He then does the same with the white shirt. Him putting it on, I find out that fox boy bought one of those patterned shirts that fade away after two laundry washes. His pattern is that of a pair of Muay Thai boxers hitting each other in a ring. Patting his clothes for any stray tags, Kurama zips the backpack up and swings it around his shoulders, saying "Well, that takes care of clothing. Shall we proceed?"

We step out of the department, me with the black duffle bag around my right shoulder, Kurama with the backpack on his back. I reach into my jean pocket and pull out a pack of Marlboro cigarettes. I take one out, wedge it between my lips, put my pack back in my pocket, and then take out a lighter. I light my cigarette, pocket my lighter, and take a drag. Damn I don't know why Kurama doesn't smoke or find something relax with. These past few hours, damn they been something.

I say "C'mon, I think I know where that bar is." Kurama sighs and says "I would prefer we go to the airport now. The longer we remain in this city, the more likely we will be exposed to some form of insanity." Heh. "I hear you Kurama, but I need some sake in me after all that crap we just went through. My treat. I know you're not one to turn down a free drink." Kurama sighs and says "Very well, one drink. But first, we must find some nourishment. I rather not drink on a purged stomach."

Plates of massaman curry in our bellies, we step into 'Yellow Flag' the bar, free of crazy Russians and red strap-ons. I hope. A Chinese man in a cowboy hat disarms a Western European looking man in some douchebag Ed Hardy shirt and starts beating the living crap out of him, while everyone else plays cards and drinks alcohol. Walking to the bar counter, I check out the tables…oh-kay. A gun, another gun, a machete and a gun, two guns and a firecracker, a fucking hand grenade…and a shotgun. Kurama whispers "This reminds me of a Mykker mead hall, back in Gandara. With modern weapons." Okay, good, at least fox boy has experience with these types.

We sidestep the ground and pound going on with the cowboy and Ed Hardy, and sit down by the counter. Kurama takes the seat to the left of me. On my right, is a long haired blonde woman with a pink tank top that says 'Just Do It' over her megaton rack, and green shorts held up by a sky blue fabric belt. I turn to the bartender, a middle aged Vietnamese looking guy with a paper thin moustache. The guy is reading into some Vietnamese newspaper, ignoring us. I say "Hey bartender, got any sake here?"

Bartender, still looking down at his newspaper, says in Vietnamese-accented English "Nope." Alright, let's try something else. "Got any Yamazaki whisky?" Bartender looks up, scans us two, and then says "Yeah, I think I do, 12 Year single malt. That's high end shit though, going to cost you." I crack a smile and say "We're celebrating."

The blonde woman suddenly says in some American-accented English "Hey Bao, let me take care of their drinks." Bao the bartender, his back to us, shifts through stacks of whisky bottles and says "Got it." The American woman turns to us and says "Name's Eda. What's brought a pair of handsome Japanese guys to this humble abode." I say "Hey, I'm engaged, and Shuichi here is taken. Will take the drinks though, thanks." Eda smirks at us and pulls her pink tinted eyeglasses up to her forehead. She turns around and arcs against the bar counter, and damn I'm really glad Keiko is not here to see this lady show off her rack in a new angle.

She says "I've been hearing some very interesting things…" Bao sets down our shots of Yamazaki whisky. Kurama eyes this Eda lady suspiciously. I'm with you, fox boy. I take a sip of my whisky…damn that stuff is smooth…and say "Me too. Seems like Saddam Hussein doesn't shit gold and SARS doesn't mix well with tea, what's it to you?" She starts laughing and says "True, true, but I have also been hearing about a black haired East Asian man carrying a duffle bag and a red haired East Asian man carrying a pink backpack. That they were originally wanted by Roanapur PD over an exploding meth RV that gave a local cop third degree burns." At least that dick survived. I say "Eh, I don't know anything about that, lady." She smirks and says "Police have turned their search over to the real power brokers in this city. Or to be exact, the Russian Mafiya." Oh fuck.

I glance at Kurama and I can tell he is not having this. He takes a swig of his whisky and I do the same, saying "Again, don't know what you're talking about, Eda." She points her right leg at our 100 grand and says "Oh I believe I do. See, I heard that the very same mobile meth lab crashed into the personal vehicle of the Underboss of Hotel Moscow, the Russian Mafiya branch here in Thailand. A stoic, calm man, usually, named Boris Melamud. Has a scar across the face." I try to hide my reaction at the news. She presses on "Very dangerous man. Again, usually calm, so something must have really pissed him off to put out a bounty on these two individual's heads." Bounty…? I steal a glance at Kurama, who is now really going to town on his whisky.

Eda keeps going "Very well respected ex. Russian Spetsnaz paratrooper, a veteran of the Soviet-Afghan war. And a man that was very, very proud of his Lexus sedan, really loved it. Did you know that he used to be the sergeant of his current boss? Oh her…they call her Balalaika. Because when she gets her hands on a sniper rifle, she makes music. …Not someone you want to anger, that is certain."

Kurama hoarsely asks "What are you attempting to say…Eda?" She says "I am saying that, for a fee, I could offer you protection." I go halfway with my whisky and say "No thanks, we can handle ourselves." She laughs and says "Going to the airport I imagine? They will be there just waiting for you to try it. However, I have access to a certain NGO that can smuggle you back home. I also have the address to an inn, the Ramsap Inn. It is a safe house of mine. All I require is a retainer fee." She again points at our duffle bag. I finish my whisky and say "Again, thanks but no thanks." She shrugs her shoulders and says "Suit yourself." Eda fishes out some bhat from her shorts and slams it on the counter. Bao counts the bhat, and says "Yeah, that's enough."

Enough for us too. I had my fill of this nut house. The American lady gets off her stool and walks toward the exit, and I suddenly feel like I got knives in my back. I turn to Kurama and speak in Japanese "What do you think, fox boy?" Kurama sips on what's left of his whisky and says "I think she is speaking the truth, though I do not trust her. Perhaps an escape by sea would be more appropriate. We could offer payment to a fishing captain and return to land in Cambodia. Or I could use the watch in our backpack to contact Botan, she could take us to safety."

Eh, Botan. I say "I really don't want to tell Botan that we need an exfil cause we sold crystal meth and pissed off Russian mobsters. I really can't figure how that conversation would go." Kurama frowns and says "Well we must decide, either contact Botan now or remain hidden from plain view until we find an alternative means of escape." Yeah, yeah.

I turn to Bao and ask in English "Hey Bao, you know where we can get a hotel room to rent?" Bao nods and says "I got a whorehouse upstairs, running rate is…" "Woah, woah! We just want a room together, no happy endings needed. We're family men here," I say. Bao looks at us, laughs, and says "Oh…okay. I get it. Say, if you let me put it on video, I can give you guys a cut." "What?!" Kurama and I say at the same time. Bao says "Oh, yeah, some of the Chinese run a porno side racket. Seriously, I'll cut you two in. You two? You could be stars."

ALRIGHT, NO!

THAT'S IT!

"Last fucking time! For everyone in this fucking city to hear! We are not fucking each other, got it?! Just give us a fucking room! A room for two heterosexual men with girlfriends!" I yell…seriously what the hell is it with this place?!

Bao raises his hands in protest and says "Alright, relax. 50 bucks, American. Each, and for the night. Don't trash the place and we're peachy." "Deal," I say, pulling out two Grants from the duffle bag. I pay the dick and he gives us a brass key, saying "Room 204, on the left. Mind the smell in the hallway, some Kiwi ODed on heroin three days ago and I just found the body yesterday." "Nice detail," Kurama says as he finishes his whisky.

We get off our stools and approach the staircase in the back of the bar. Kurama walks around a pillar, and suddenly ducks under a Scandinavian looking man's right haymaker, aimed, very badly, at the Indonesian looking man with the with bandana, the red ripped shirt with the bandolier over it, and the dark green cargo shorts. The Scandinavian looking man, long, dirty blonde haired with an Enki-styled goatee/moustache combo, dressed in a grey and red striped leisure shirt and dark grey jeans, pulls out a revolver and yells "Vitun huijari! Minun pitäisi tappaa teitä että paskaa!"

As he prepares to blow the Indonesian guy away for whatever reason he came up with, Kurama grabs blondie's wrist with his right hand, slides his left arm in a knife shape into blondie's nose, and spins him off the poker table and face first into the bar counter, like one of those sambo/judo moves. Kurama then squeezes on the guy's wrist until the guy drops the revolver. Patting the man on the chest, Kurama nods and says "That was resolved better then I hoped." He turns around and walks toward the staircase again, when blondie suddenly turns to Kurama and rabbit punches Kurama in the back of his neck, sending Kurama face first into another table and a pile of this weird white stuff.

Kurama's face smacks against the white stuff like it was baby powder. As I move in to beat down this prick, I see a tall Latino looking guy on the other end of the table with the powder, sporting a black ponytail, a thick goatee, and a thin moustache, dressed in a mauve dress shirt, a pink sports jacket, and sky blue slacks held up by a grey leather belt. He pulls out a black looking pistol out of nowhere. As blondie charges in to fuck up Kurama, the Latino guy shoots blondie in the neck. Blondie takes a step back, gurgles blood, grasps his neck, and mutters "Hetkinen!" The Latino guy fires another shot, this time into blondie's forehead, sending him on the floor, head resting against the pillar.

You know, I find it funny, out of all the crazy ways I watched humans and demons kick the bucket, gunshot to the head is a rare one. Maybe the first.

Blondie bleeds out against the pillar as the Latino guy says in Mexican Spanish-accented English "Órale, mira, I saw what happened. You tried to keep the peace, I respect that. I won't give you shit over touching some of my perico, ése, so it's all good. Enjoy the free bump, vato." Bump?

Oh.

Kurama just snorted up a pile of cocaine. Looks like things are starting to get out of control.

Oh boy.

I pull Kurama off the pile before he starts growing demon plants that shout new business ideas. With a grunt, I lift him up and carry him on my shoulder. His face looks like he just huffed some paint. I wipe the expensive powder off his nose, mouth, and chin, my hand going numb.

Hm, always wondered…I take a deep sniff of the stuff in my hand…okay, I see, I get the freaking point. I wipe the coke against my jeans before…damn this is like someone took the good stuff in chocolate and raised it to the billionth power. Okay, this is bad. Very very bad. An S-Class Kitsune geeked out on this much pure Colombian cocaine…oh fuck.

"You okay there, fox boy?" I ask, going up the stairs. He just giggles and fidgets a bit.

I got a bad feeling about this.

Kurama on my left shoulder, the 100 grand duffle bag on my right, I unlock the door to Room 204 and step in. I drop the duffle bag on the floor and let Kurama fall on the bed, coked out of his mind. He starts giggling again. I see a cockroach walking across the wooden floor, and I do Bao a favor and punish it over the overdue rent. I then take off my shoes and put them by the door. I turn around and watch Kurama throw his shirt on the floor.

I got single malt whisky and a sample of pure South American cocaine in my veins. I'm fucking wired. Kurama, who has removed his pink backpack and is now sweating and shirtless, has at least two grams of pure coke pulsating through his Kitsune veins. Tonight is going to range from pretty interesting to absolute fucking disaster. That's the spectrum I'm looking at…and now he has the rose out. Kurama is coked out and has his rose out.

"Yusuke…?" Kurama asks, smiling like an idiot. "Yeah…" I say, kinda scared, and at the same time, kinda curious about what I'm going to hear next. "I like chess. Do you like chess do you see a chessboard?" "Uh, not much of a player…I don't got any chessboard."

He takes off his sandals and lays barefooted and shirtless on the grey sheet covered queen sized bed. He folds his legs in a crossed yoga pose and says "Let's make one. Let's make a chessboard." Uhh…what?

"How do you plan to make a freaking chessboard?" Kurama laughs and says "With a rose, Yusuke. With a rose." Fox boy is tripping balls.

He points at a wooden chair by a wooden desk and says "There." Out of nowhere, Kurama extends his rose into a whip and chops the chair up into tiny pieces. He climbs off the bed and starts sorting through the mess he made. "Uh Kurama…that's not our chair." Kurama simply smiles at me and anxiously says "It's no matter, we will compensate Bao accordingly." He grabs a few chunks of wood and shaves them with the thorns of his whip. I sit on the bed and watch him go to work.

Holy crap, he actually carved out a chess set. Black gets designated with a rose petal wedged in the chess piece. The bishops look more like tiny penises, the knights look like Hiei's dragon of the darkness flame, but rest look pretty damn accurate. He even carved the crowns of the kings with nine tails on top. The rose whip is back to being a rose, and back to hiding in his thick red hair. "Nice work, Kurama. Pretty good use of the energy boost," I say. He laughs and says "Please, just call me El Ajedrecista." "Alright, the El Ajedrecista. Seriously though, you could have spent today writing some BS report, or some doujin story, or draw some doodle and make zero cash, like that Yu Kaito guy does, and look at you here. You cooked up some meth and we are both rich for it, nice eh?"

"You goddamn right I did!" Kurama stands up, his chest covered in sweat. O-kay…yeah, that's not normal. He smiles, high out of his mind, and reaches into the duffle bag. He starts folding up Jacksons and Grants, saying "Grant will be white, Jackson will be black." I say "Eh, I think they both were pretty pasty back in the day." He starts chuckling and says "Well details, details."

After a minute, we got ourselves a chessboard, and since I rather have him here then wander off somewhere, I'll keep the guy occupied. Alright, let's see, how does thing work again? Alright, I pick up a pawn. "HURRY!" Kurama yells out of nowhere. "Jesus man, relax!" I yell…okay. I put the pawn down on the folded up face of Andrew Jackson. Kurama immediately grabs the black dragon on his right and slams it down on a fold up square of Grant, like we gone past speed chess and into crack chess.

Five moves later, he takes my queen and yells "Ah, amateurish of yourself Yusuke! Only a fool would not spot that tactic two moves ahead!" Hey. I say "Yeah, I ain't the chess player here, I like Mortal Kombat and shit like that." Kurama laughs suddenly and says "Mortal Kombat…did you know I once tore an ice demon's head clean off his shoulders once? Did you?" "Uh, no I can't say I did." He yells "YOUR MOVE!" Oh Jesus, fuck. I pick up a pawn and drop it one square forward, I don't even care about winning. He then immediately moves a bishop in to take my knight and says "I never usually see the spine still attached but that demon still had his spine dangling from his head, quite a surprising experience. Ironic too, given the context. Very very ironic, or paradoxical, or…it is your move Yusuke…"

Yeah, okay, I move my now freed rook to take his, one of his, bishop. He says "Or nihilistic, or existentialistic, or romanticist, or post-modern sub-categorical modernist! Ah, ooo…checkmate." He moves his queen and I don't even try to protest. Okay "That's done." Kurama smiles and nods, saying "Yes…once again, I am victories…victorious victorious. Oh how I love a game in which you could defeat your opponent ten moves in advance. It truly warms my Kitsune heart and sharpens my nerve. Shall we play once again?" I shake my head and say "Nah, I'm good. I'm going to lay down now, I'm coming down from the sample I got from your…uh…face."

I collapse on the bed, heart possibly racing if my heart would still be beating. Liquor and coke do not mix. Kurama laughs to himself and says "I will be in the shower." I say "Okay, okay."

Within a few minutes, I suddenly find myself dozing off. Okay, this is happening...

I'm in an auditorium, front row seats. Hiei is on stage, dressed in a black tuxedo with a white undershirt and snake skin loafers. He tugs on his bowtie and says to a microphone "Truly, whenever I witness an incident in Human World…I always pine for the incident to grow out of proportion until it wipes out mankind." Everyone starts laughing. He waves at us to stop and says "Allow me to illustrate. Say a boiler in downtown Tokyo ruptures and sends steam into the circuit board of the main electrical substation, frying the board and toasting the wires to the point that they cannot be repaired. All traffic signals deactivate, triggering a city wide traffic jam that freezes paramedics, firetrucks, and the police in the streets. And at the same time a massive, once in a century heatwave stemming from the Sea of Japan descends on Tokyo. Air conditioning and running water become unobtainable, causing typhus and bubonic plague to make a comeback, and with a blink, humans start dying by the thousands, but before that, MAKAI INSECTS EAT THEIR BRAINS! And they become possessed and storm the hospitals, but the hospitals tell them to queue up, so they start tentacle raping the nurses and set the hospital ablaze. And the flames drives them into a further frenzy, so they start stabbing salarymen and Gaijin cosplayers. And a gust comes along and sets the entire metropolis ablaze, and those that are still fine, they take their anger on the possessed, and they start disemboweling them! Playing jump rope with their intestines, throwing feces at their faces, shit like that. Then everyone snorts meth and ecstasy and they march onto city hall, where they chikan the mayor, strangle his wife, and take turns blowing the statue of Shintaro Ishihara." Oh, pfft what the fuck?!

Hiei takes a gulp of water from a bottle and then says "And now it appears, now, things are about to get out of control. And so everyone panics and slowly funnels onto the highway. But the rich corporate executives used bullshit cement for the highway, and so people at random fall through the highway like it is Takeshi's Challenge. And those that survive find out that the suburbs are ablaze, razing all the identical homes with identical fires and roasting all the identical housewives with their identical masturbating 'Not in Education, Employment, or Training' kids. And now, the inferno spreads into the forests, and the forests burn furiously, and Botan flies out yelling "Hinageshi is dead! Hinageshi is dead!" And she is, she is, finally, that red haired peeping cunt Hinageshi is dead! Dead! Now hundreds of regional fires come together into one inter-island inferno, and now the entire southern half of Japan is burning uncontrollably, except Shikoku because even fires have standards. And then the fire spreads across the Sea of Japan, producing millions of tons of irradiated shrimp tempura! And it crosses into Far Eastern Russia, blowing up oil platforms, bankrupting oligarchs, interrupting bestiality, and killing millions of Russian eskimos and now released convicts that have gone blind from drinking cologne! And the fire then leapfrogs over to South Korea, but the South Koreans politely request the fire to pay 50% income tax. So the fire says "Fuck that" and goes to North Korea. And the North Koreans demand that the fire star in their latest blockbuster film, directed by some Japanese guy they kidnapped twenty years ago. But the fire was having none of that and instead went southwest and burned down Beijing and Shanghai, killing all the rich Han dickheads and roasting all their evil, faggoty, ecstasy addicted self-absorbed kids with their American state university marketing degrees!"

People applaud and laugh, almost like it is canned laughter. Hiei takes a breather and says "And while this is happening, Mongolia burns to its foundation, but no one honestly cares. And now the entire East Asian territory is ablaze, triggering an incendiary chain reaction that ruptures the stratosphere and dissolves the laws of physics and chemistry. Earth and heart combine, burning clouds of acid rain turn fish into LSD, gamma ray bursts cause the Koorime to break down into orgy, and the sky fills up with PURPLE SHIT! And then at once, the barriers between Spirit World and Human World tear asunder! And all the souls of days past return to their old homes. Tokugawa Ieyasu, Saigo Takamori, Hajime Saito, Yukio Mishima, Megaman, Hideki Tojo, Stannis Baratheon, my father-in-law Shinji, your father-in-law Shinji! An endless stream of dead father-in-law Shinjis come pouring out, into the mini bar of a spiritual pachinko parlor. And the dead father-in-law Shinjis circle around and crack open Kirin Ichibans. They drink their pisswater and begin to rant. They rant on how they were always screwed over, how their parents were ignorant yokels and their kids are lazy NEETs. They say their bosses laid them off because they were jealous of them and the Yakuza were out to get them. They say the Koreans own everything and the Buraku caste get special treatment to the point that it's reverse-castration. And round and round this hate spins, faster and faster, until the hate encompasses the entire universe, and then, IT EXPLODES! Into a trillion universes, and every universe has a trillion realms, and every realm has a trillion dead father-in-law Shinjis. And all the dead father-in-law Shinjis live in bliss. They have fashionable clothes and steady jobs at reasonable hours. They get overtime pay, their kids like to work. And every Friday, without fail, father-in-law Shinji gets promoted. Every week, every Friday, every father-in-law Shinji enjoys the pleasure of a raise and a pat on the back from their boss. And finally, father-in-law Shinji feels content. Now you understand why I hope mankind dies out?!"

"Bwabubabab!" I jolt awake, hearing splashing. "Oh shit, Kurama's drowning!" I yell out, reeling from my dream of Hiei impersonating George Carlin. I rush into the bathroom, and find three things that I do not think came with the room.

Kurama, in the tub, in his jeans, bathwater up to his shoulders, reaching for a radio that's on the dirty, rusty sink. On Kurama's head, a felt black flat cap, the kind you expect golf caddies from the 1950s or NYC taxi drivers to wear. A giant sea louse is floating with him in the pool, one of its legs floating a few inches away from it. On the floor, a sealed and half empty bottle of Yamazaki whisky, 12 year single malt.

What the fuck?!

Kurama laughs and says "Ahh Yusuke, I was simply attempting to offer Karasu here some music. Only fair, I considered." "What? Kurama, you coked out nut, where you got…all this crap?" He giggles and splashes in his tub while the sea louse flails around, saying "Ah, the New Zealander that overdosed next door, he had a few items he did not take to Spirit World with him. So I claimed them for myself, the radio and the hat." "And the whisky?" He laughs and says "Bao gave it to me, as a gift for de-escalating an incident, and offered four hundred dollars to me for the right to video tape us fornicating. I respectfully declined the offer, and accepted the gift."

"And the sea louse?" I ask. Kurama says "I named him Karasu. I never truly finished my fun with that particular cretin. If only I remained in Yoko form for a touch longer, I would have truly made a spectacle. But, alas, I must settle for his reincarnation." He twists another one of the sea louse's legs off, and then says "Still fancying my hair, no? Oh what a tragedy! Still want to get into my skin, see what you longed? Well, very well!" I watch Kurama start reaching down his jeans and alarm bells go off. I immediately grab the sea louse and flush it down the dirty ass toilet before I could witness a really bad live action fanfiction. A fox demon physically and sexually molesting a sea louse, yep I seen it all. You hear me pacifier breath? I'm ready for those pearly gates!

Kurama chuckles and mutters "Fatality! Flawless victory! No, the other way. Flawless…victory. FATALITY!" I take the whisky away from Kurama and say "Alright, you had more than enough. I'm assuming you didn't take a second bump from that Mexican. Right?" Kurama just smiles at me like an idiot.

"Right?"

He just stares at me. After a while, he says "I was offered." "Oh fuck no! Damn it fox boy!" I yell. I set the whisky bottle down and take the radio away from Kurama before he could pull off a Dr. Gonzo and blast himself through the wall. "No, Yusuke please. I haven't even begun," he whimpers, climbing out of the tub, splashing water onto the floor and soaking my socks. He falls on his knees and tries to snatch the radio. I run out the bathroom with the radio and Kurama chases after me with the sealed bottle of whisky.

After giving up chase three seconds in, Kurama yells "Fine! I will create my music." He adjusts his flat cap, half naked, soaked in bathwater and hopefully nothing else, and tilts the whisky bottle to his mouth as if it is a microphone. "Gatov rebyata?!" he yells in Russian. I sit down on the bed and brace myself for the upcoming karaoke session.

He sings softly into the whisky bottle neck "Na nedelku do vtorovoh, ya uyedu v Komarovo. Poglideht otvihkshim glazom, na Baltiiskuio volnu. E na moreh budu razom. Korablohm e vodolazom. Sahm sebah naiduh v puchineh, yecli shasom zatanu."

He runs up to the window and yells "Davai druhsyeh!" He then turns to me and yells into the whisky bottle "Na nedelku! Do vtorovoh! Ya uyedu! V Komarovo! Sahm sebah! Naiduh v puchineh! Yecli chasom…zatanuuu…" He goes on singing as I try to zone him out. "E u vas v karelskih skalah…" I try to swipe the whisky bottle out of his hand. "…budet lichnih vodolaz." Got it!

He sticks his head out the window and sings "Na nedelku! Do vtorovoh!" I unscrew the whisky cap. "Ya uyedu! V Komarovo!" I take a big gulp, damn good stuff. "Sahm sebah! Naiduh v puchineh!" I yell "What are you even singing about?!" "Yecli shasom…zatanuuu…" he finishes.

Without pause, he starts the next verse of this song, and all I can think in my head is 'Bolshevik! Bolshevik! With sour cream!' Damn, I'm mostly done with my coke and the mix with whisky is still making a mess. I don't to know what's going through fox boy's brain now. It's probably scrambled.

"Na nedelku! Do vtorovoh! Ya uyedu! V Roanapura! Sahm sebah! Naiduh v puchineh! Yecli shasom! Zatanuuu!"

A loud knock rings out from our door. Someone yells "IM LANG! IM LANG! SHUT THE FUCKING FUCK UP ALREADY!" Sounds like one of our temporary neighbors. Kurama just laughs and approaches me in the bed…okay he's looking a bit creepy. I give him room and watch him flop onto the bed, his soaked red hair drenching the bed sheets.

After a creepy five minutes of silence, last minute me being concerned that fox boy ODed and croaked, Kurama asks, muffled under the sheets "Yusuke?" "Yeah?" I say. "Is your heart still beating?" he says. I say "Hasn't for years, Kurama." He starts laughing under the sheets and says "Same…same." He grabs the radio and turns it on, and then fumbles through the stations until we get that freaking Russian station again.

After a long commercial in Thai, the DJ yells "Po zaprosu…Shokoladni Zayits. Pier Narciss. Pizdets, blayt." Some techno pop slash rap song starts off. "Ponaroshku shas ya kroshku na ladoshku palazhu…zhu…zhu…" Kurama starts laughing a lot, the guy singing it got a strange accent I can't figure out. "Akkuratno c krasnim bantohm ya obertku razvyazhu…zhu...zhu." Kurama can't stop laughing. "Appetitno, ochen sihtnoh, etah forma vseh vlechoht…choht…choht." I hear a commotion downstairs, no gunshots, just people arguing.

I take a heavy chug of whisky, like a fifth of the bottle in one go. "Prostoh laskovoh potrogaih konchiki moieh ushae…ushae…ushae…" I hear someone run up the stairs, heavy enough to shake the floor. "Tih zaprigayes soh mnoih visheh kozhanih micheih…cheih…"

A giant, seven foot tall dark-skinned Arabic looking guy bursts through the door. He is built like a steroid junkie, shirtless and hairy, has a thick beard, short black hair, a half-missing nose, green cargo pants held up by a black leather belt, and dark green combat boots. He is also carrying, in both his arms, an eight foot long black spear that looks uncomfortably thin.

"Ya shokoladni zayits! Ya laskovih merzhavits! Ya sladkih na vseh stoh, oh-oh-oh!" Kurama moves back and sticks his right hand in his red hair. The guy says in Arabic-accented English "They call me Sadiq Al-Khazouk. And I'm here for the bounty. And this end…" he points at the flat end of the spear "I call it Sodom. And the other…I call Gomorrah."

"Ya shokoladni zayits! E guhb tvoih kasayis! Ya taiyuh tak leghko!"

My anus is begging for mercy.

Kurama immediately charges Sadiq and swings his left leg at…that thing. It shatters in half, yep it's wooden. I then climb up and MMA Superman punch the freak in the chin. His legs buckle and he stumbles a bit, and then goes down for the count. Kurama wipes his hands against the sheets and yells "By God, the man drenched that spear in Vasoline!" I yell "Okay, I had enough of this shit!" I hear a mob of people running up the stairs. I quickly scoop up the folded up Grants and Jacksons and toss them into the duffle bag. Kurama grabs his black sandals and slips them on, slinging the pink backpack full of our passports around his bare back. He grabs his shirt and tries to sling it over his head, but his new hat is in the way. I hear a gunshot go off and I run up to my boat shoes. Putting them on, I hear Kurama yell "To hell with this" and toss his shirt way. He pulls a coked up rose out of his hair and turns it into a whip.

A Western European looking guy with a blue and white striped bandana with a red star in the middle, brown khakis, and a red sleeveless shirt runs up to me with a pistol. I grab the pistol barrel with my left hand, crush it, and then slam the prick head first into the doorframe. Doorframe cracks like a peanut. He bounces backwards, bleeding from his skull, as I see a mob of Southeast Asians, Europeans, and a couple of Arabs come after me with pistols, AK-47s, and shotguns. Sorry Koenma.

I charge up and yell "Spirit gun!" The sky blue blast vaporizes the dozen of hired goons and takes out the damn floor. I feel the whole place shake and rumble, the whole bar looks like it's about to collapse. I turn around, find a window with a fire escape, and jump through the window. Kurama joins me in the fire escape as the whole building goes down. He yells "I thought you wished to not use your powers!" "That was before I nearly got molested by Sadiq the Freak! Jump!"

We jump off the fire escape, our bags in hand, and land in an alleyway. I see a Crown Vic sedan in the alleyway with a blonde long haired woman at the wheel. She yells "Reconsidered my offer?!" Damnit, fine!

We run up to Eda, both of us jumping into the backseat. She drives off as the Yellow Flag crumples into shoddy brick work and broken dreams.

Passing another alleyway, Eda asks "What the hell was that? You have explosives on you?" I smile nervously and say "Nah, I have no idea what happened with that. Some big blue shit just took the floor out." Damn it got dark fast here. I check on the dashboard and see that it's 7:52 P.M. Time flies when you're on whisky and yayo.

"So, lover boys…" Eda says. Oh for fuck sakes! "Can this city cut it out with that?! Kurama and I are freaking straight!" She smirks and says "Whatever you say…did you think over my offer? For 30 grand, I will get you two smuggled back to Japan. Again, my offer. Given that I am your only friendly contact in this city, I recommend you take it." I yell "Screw that! I know when I'm getting jerked around. Kurama?" He nods and takes his cue. As Kurama prepares to kick open the side door and jump, Eda says "Remember that bottle of whisky Bao gave to the red head?" Kurama kicks the door open and jumps out, narrowly avoiding crashing into a dumpster.

She yells "Dumbass, what are you doing?!" I say "See ya, you crazy bitch!" As I jump out, I hear Eda yell "Wait! I spiked your whisky with mescaline!"

Ah fuck.

I bounce around on the asphalt as the Crown Vic passes an intersection. Before that crazy bitch could set the car in reverse, I book it across a perpendicular alleyway full of the backyards of shitty motel rooms.

Five blocks sped away from my original exit strategy, I start to feel the effects of the mescaline. I'm already getting worried about Kurama, or more so, the pricks within a thirty mile radius of drunk, coked out, mescaline tripping Kurama, with a rose whip in his hand. Hey, I think I am in the thirty mile radius. Awesome!

I see a mauve haired Chinese woman with giant tits, a black tank top with two pistols holstered on some shoulder straps, and really really really short denim shorts. I…wait…now the Chinese woman has a Japanese guy dressed like a bean counter right behind her. Black haired and in serious need of a new barber, yep I think he's Japanese. I approach them and yell "Hey, have you seen my friend here? East Asian, red haired, shirtless with a pink back…" I can hear the Chinese lady snickering at me.

"For the last fucking time…" I yell "we ain't like that…that…what the fuck is up with your face?!" Her eyes start shooting laser beams and her nose melts away. She looks like post-surgery Michael Jackson. Mescaline is one hell of a drug.

She yells "What did you say, dipshit?!" I…ow! That bitch just pistol whipped me! I fall on the floor, duffle bag on my chest, and I hear her yell "Fucking junkies. Probably going to blow someone for crack money when he sobers up." What…I'll fucking kick her ass! Japanese guy says "Relax Revy, he is just one of the typical Roanapur addicts." Addict?! We've been force fed drugs since we fucking got here! We ain't no fucking addicts!

We've been fucked by this city ever since we got here, on some occasions almost literally. We just want to get out of here!

I start to drift away, my head ringing. I close my eyes and hope that I wake up with all my organs still attached.

This place is like a live action Grand Theft Auto.

AN: I would like to thank the Southern Tier Brewing Company and the fine makers of Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey for making this possible (please drink responsibly). Yusuke's dream sequence of Hiei doing stand up is a parody of a George Carlin skit with as many things changed as possible to reflect the setting more closely. Mescaline has a delayed reaction time, according strictly to online research. So...yeah. Here's hoping this made you laugh, someway or another.