Metaphorical rain clouds and thunderbolts circled Zane's head as he reached down and picked up yet another Duel Monsters card from the ground. The action was accompanied by a jolt of pain from his lower back as well as dirt getting into the burrows of his fingernails. As beads of sweat ran down the side of his face due to the tedious, back-straining work he was toiling through, Zane jotted down a memo in his head that in addition to buying a heat pad for his spinal cord, he should also invest in some Purell for his hands. He mentally bounced around the idea of visiting Dorothy's shop tonight only to sourly realize it was a Sunday, and the plump old lady closed her inventories early this day.
A scowl morphed on his lips. Why hadn't he asked the tailor to include leather dueling gloves when viewing the design stages of his underground outfit? He shook his head. He decided that from now on out, he would just insert the proper number of cards required as a cost from his deck into his graveyard rather than tossing them like a barrier.
Zane straightened up and stared at the dog-eared card resting squarely in the palm of his hand. A faint twitch sprouted on the upper-left corner of his head.
...and here I was, hoping to sell my Underworld deck on Ebay as a collector's item.
Well, this what he deserved for being a drama queen when activating Power Wall.