Reservoir Duellists
Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh or Reservoir Dogs.
Part One: Monster Reborn
"I'm telling you guys, the card is a metaphor for a big dick fucking some bitch and bringing back that orgasm she aint had for about 12 fucking years, man. Seriously, it's written all over the card, you just gotta look closely and use your imagination a bit, you hear what I'm saying? The only interpretation I can get from it is that it's a sword, right? It's a sword that represents some guys Johnson, and the whole 'reborn' part of it is bringing back the monster orgasm she hasn't had for ages, you get me?"
Mr. Brown looked around the table for support from his fellow duellists on his musings about the 'real meanings of cards'. The circular table was accompanied with stylishly dressed gangsters with ridiculously over-the-top haircuts, with their eyes set intently on Mr. Brown and his somewhat inappropriate breakfast conversation.
"No it's not." said Mr. White, flicking his multi-coloured hair from his face. "It's just a nice card that is extremely helpful in bringing back dead monsters. If it means anything it's probably just to signify Jesus' rising from the dead after the three days, shown from the whole spiritual summoning thing"
"Don't give me that bullshit, it's for the birds. I guarantee I know what I'm talking about. When this 'sword' fucks her, it's good. It's good like it used to be, so it's really like an orgasm reborn. But seeing as this orgasm is so fucking massive, it leads on to the title of the card. Hence, 'Monster Reborn'"
Mr. Brown smiled and leant back in his seat, knowing he'd made his point expertly.
All seven of the other residents at the table were all looking away uneasily, with the exception of Solomon, who was flicking through his deck trying to remember the names of cards he used to have, and Mr. Blonde, who had his dead eyes set on Mr. Brown. Mr. Blonde was definitely not the guy you'd want to discuss trivial matters with, he was very serious, and very very dangerous. Of course the others, having never met him had no idea what he was really capable of, which is just how Mr. Blonde liked it.
"Dark... luster... erm... black Magician of... something or other" Solomon murmured to himself.
"Alright enough of this crap." said Mr. White, seizing the deck and casting it into his blue Jacket.
"Hey," started Solomon angrily, "give me my deck back!"
"For the last ten or so minutes I've had to listen to you go on about some fucking card you lost back in 1857. I mean I've had this massive sword dick coming out of my left ear" (he indicated to Mr. Brown on his left) "and I've had this, 'Black Luster Magician fucking dragon' bullshit coming out of my right." He turned away from Solomon, who was seated in the chair on the right next to him.
"Hey Solomon," said Mr. Blonde from across the table, "you want me to send this guy to the shadow realm?"
Mr. White laughed, and shot back, "You send me to the shadow realm in a dream, you better wake up and apologise."
Solomon was about to throw down on Mr. White, but luckily the bill came and he had to put on a smile for the nice waitress, to keep up appearances and all.
Once she had left, he turned sourly back to Mr. White. "I'm gonna go pay for the breakfast, and when I come back I want my deck back."
"It's my deck now, sorry"
Solomon paused, and turned back to Mr. Blonde. "Hey I changed my mind, vanquish this piece of shit." He stalked off after Mr. Blonde had waved his millennium ring threateningly at White.
"Pah, you're both going the right way for a mind crush, I'd watch out." Joked White, which made the until then silent Mr. Orange laugh.
Solomon returned creakily to the table.
Doing some quick maths on his calculator (he never left home without it) he worked out the appropriate tip for the waitress who he felt had been quite generous to them.
"Everyone chip in a buck, that should just about do."
Everyone fumbled around in their pockets for their wallets and threw in a dollar onto the table, except for Mr. Pink, who stayed quite still, stroking his perfect brown hair and looking on amused.
"What do you think you're doing?" asked Solomon. He was definitely not in the mood for his workers to start annoying him, not today. "Cough up a buck you stingy dog."
All the heads turned towards Mr. Pink, who began to look surprised and aggravated, as though they were asking some great and terrible feat of him. "No." He replied defiantly.
"And why not?" said Nice Guy Yugi from next to him, grandson of Solomon and a follower in his law-breaking footsteps.
"I don't believe in tipping."
They continued to look at him sternly, which seemed something of great confusion for Mr. Pink. "What?" he asked strictly.
"You're wearing what looks like a 5,000 dollar purple coat, a haircut that only celebrities should have and a smug look about you that shouts 'look how much money I have!', and you're telling me you can't chip in a buck?"said Mr. Brown, clearly pissed off at Mr. Pinks absent generosity
He paused briefly and looked away.
"What are you Brown, jealous? It's hard to ignore that obvious Brooklyn accent you have, and that blonde poofy haircut you have looks like it was styled by a five-year-old. It's quite clear to see you're working class, at best."
Mr. Pink smiled. He knew he was getting to him.
Nice guy Yugi was looking concerned however. "Hold it guys, you've gotta stop profiling each other. The less you know about each other the better, we don't want you knowing where each other comes from, or how much money you have," (he shot a dirty look at Pink) "or anything personal at all, you got it? We find out we've got a rat in the house and he knows a bunch of stuff about you, he can identify you all the more easily for the police."
They all nodded in agreement, and silently decided to stop it with the personal conversation.
He continued, "Well sorry for interrupting the conversation. Mr. Pink, I believe you were explaining why you can't spare a dollar."
"You know I could spare a dollar, i just don't see why I should. These waitresses don't do anything else but their job, and I can't see why that should entitle them to extra money when people who work jobs of similar pay to them aren't deemed tip worthy."
"You don't know what you're talking about." Started Mr. White angrily. He clung hard on to his millennium puzzle as he stared deeply at Mr. Pink. "These waitresses make shit; they're counting on rich folk like yourselves tips to live."
"C'mon don't give me that bullshit, if they expect me to help out with the bills they're in for a big fucking surprise. This girl I'd agree was nice enough to us, but she just wasn't anything special."
"Well what's special, take you into the back and suck your dick, Pinky boy?" drawled Mr. Blue.
The others chuckled, but none as loud as Mr. Brown.
"I'd go over 12 for that." Added Nice Guy Yugi.
Just then Solomon stood up, and shouted "Enough! You", (he looked over to Pink) "pay your tip, I payed for your breakfast and gave you this job to do, now be so kind as to do me this tiny favour."
Mr. Pink threw a dollar on to the pile, and got up to leave. The others followed him shortly, through the parking lot to where their two separate cars were parked. In just a few hours Mr. Pink, Brown, Blue, Blonde, Orange and White were to rob the card game shop on Tarantino avenue. They were to capture a deck worth a total of 1 million dollars, and report back to the secret warehouse which they were using as a base after a maximum of 30 minutes after the heist. Solomon and his Grandson would take the cards and pay the men for their services. This operation would be highly dangerous, so let's hope the street-wise poof ball Mr. Brown, the obscenely rich Mr. Pink, the puzzle wielding wise Mr. White, the dangerous ring bearer Mr. Blonde, the quiet but ambitious rod carrying Mr. Orange and the older camp individual of Mr. Blue would have their wits about them for the task in hand.
If you look closely it's not too hard to figure out which Yu Gi Oh character each of the colours are
Keep reading to find out what happens in the heist, who dies, who lives, and who'll walk away with cards in the end.
