A ridiculous Yugioh story inspired by the Abridged Series then twisted by my own twisted brain. The plot is the only thing I own.

-LINE-

Chapter 1: The Obligatory Introduction

There was a strange, arrhythmic thumping echoing (but not really because in order for a sound to "echo" the setting would have to be larger than a one bedroom apartment) beginning to splinter the door. The sun was shining directly across the pages of Bakura's book, Marik's ghastly singing from the shower was causing the lines in Bakura's forehead to feel like they were tattooed on and destined to never disappear, and now there was a bloody banging on their bloody brand new door.

Bakura growled and flung Crime and Punishment at the shared wall between the living room and the bathroom turned karaoke bar. (And honestly, Marik must have been drowning kittens in there because no human could possibly be able to emit a sound as dreadful as that at such high a frequency.) The book hit the ground with a dull thud, allowing the flimsy paper covering to slip off and reveal the actual title of the book, 50 Shades of Gray.

The running water and (thankfully) the yowling suddenly stopped and Marik stuck his tanned head, soaked hair and all, out of the half open bathroom door. He was glaring but due to his flat hair and large eyes he only managed to look like a ruffled baby koala.

"What is it, Fluffy? You know I sing better in the shower and therefore demand three showers per day. Why are you trying to ruin my rehearsal time?" Marik finished his complaint with a haughty huff and upturn of the nose.

Bakura really was not one for attempting to reign his mild annoyance. Actually, Bakura was never one for attempting to reign his mild anything. Bakura's range of emotions were extreme distaste to extreme anger. The only form of mild that the ring spirit was able to feel was mild amusement and that was only if he was in a decent mood. In this particular case of annoyance that the white haired man was feeling, it was more directed at the unyielding clatter that was threatening to break down their modest door than the soaking wet blond in front of him.

So Bakura forced himself to swallow the petty (but still hilarious) insults he balanced on the tip of his tongue in favor of throwing his house mate's lavender robe at his still disembodied head.

"Get the door. You utter twat." The second part of the statement was an afterthought but Bakura needed to insult something. A woman's virginity was just ripped in half in his book and if it were not for the interrupting door, he would have already read the rest of the sex scene.

Marik's face scrunched up underneath the robe and when he spoke next his voice was muffled, "I thought that was just you trying DDR again." Bakura's face definitely did not heat up and his ears and neck definitely did not turn an impressive shade of scarlet.

"That was one buggering time. Now put on your girly robe and get the door." Bakura turned on his heel and led the way down the hall to the ominous noises still emitting from the door

Marik shook his hair out and complied with the demand only with a moderate amount of grumbling, "I don't understand why I have to get the door. Why can't Cranky McBritish put down his pornography for one-second to get off of his tush and answer the bloody door." Marik had taken months to perfect his impression of Bakura. It was an awkward period of time Bakura consciously chose not to remember because Marik had taken to following Bakura everywhere. Everywhere included the covert-super-secret ballet classes Bakura took in the silence of the night. In his defense a thief needed to be light on his feet. In Marik's defense he had been laughing entirely too violently to hear Bakura's defense.

Bakura pinched the bridge of his nose, "You do know I can hear every word you're saying, right?" Marik stuck his tongue out childishly in a way that, if it were anyone else, Bakura would have been insulted. But seeing as it was Marik, it only caused Bakura to (totally not, really it was just sun burn) blush slightly and turn away.

Marik finally flung open the door only to reveal a tangled mass of black hair ready to bang the head it belonged to against the door one more time. Once the hair realized the door was open, it looked up. Mokuba Kaiba would have tried to be a little more polite and shake the villains' hands but said hands were currently handcuffed behind his back so he settled for an amiable smile instead.

The two men who had the misfortune of answering the door and therefore, sealed their fate once this action was completed, shared a brief look of confusion before Bakura piped up.

"Is it Tuesday already?" Bakura looked at the calendar and pointed to Tuesday (Kidnap Mokuba was written in large red letters with what looked like blood but was actually strawberry flavored ink) to punctuate his point.

Marik suddenly adopted a bewildered look on his face as he pointed to the actual day of the week. "But Bakura, today is Thursday which was actually named after the comic book character Thor. Did you know that? But O-M-G remember his abs in The Avengers, Bakura?"

The white haired male roughly palmed his face, letting his fingers drag the skin underneath his eyes down. "Marik, I am well aware today is Thursday and I won't even touch the second part of your statement. I was simply—"

"And remember that Thursdays are our massage days! You said it wasn't gay as long as both of us weren't naked so that's why I'm the only one naked during our massages."

Marik glanced quickly between Bakura and Mokuba with a naive pout gracing his face. The former looked slightly embarrassed but slightly more murderous and the latter looked a little greener than he had when the villains first opened the door. Mokuba cleared his throat.

"Well, as long as one of you doesn't have to dress up as a dog, I won't judge." Bakura's pale brow raised and he opened his mouth, ready with a silver-tongued quip but Mokuba continued as if he hadn't left a pointed pause at the end of his sentence.

"The reason I'm here is to invite you two to my birthday party."

There was a pregnant pause. A pause so pregnant that if it went on any longer it would have definitely gone into labor right in the entry-way to Marik and Bakura's apartment. Luckily, Marik started cackling before the pause's water broke. Bakura seamlessly joined in until the two of them were clinging to each other in their hysteria. Mokuba simply pursed his lips and waited for the two thieves to control themselves.

"Let me get this straight," Bakura wiped a tear from his eye, still chuckling, "you. Mokuba Kaiba. Brother of 'The Man With the Largest Stick in the World Up His Arse', want us, world class—" Mokuba coughed out a disagreement that went unnoticed by the white haired villain, "—thieves, to set foot in your grand mansion filled with valuable things just begging to be stolen?" Bakura placed a finger across his lips and furrowed his brow before asking a final follow up question.

"Also, why did you have to show up in handcuffs?"

Mokuba huffed childishly and tossed his head in a futile attempt to flip his hair out of his face. "I'm inviting you to my party because I would rather not be surprised and kidnapped. If you two are there I, and the pharaoh, can at least try to keep an eye on you." At the mention of their sworn arch enemy the two thieves cringed.

Marik rested his arm against Bakura's shoulder and slouched like a slender model on the set of a photo-shoot. (But don't ever tell Marik that. People on the street have made the mistake and had to endure forty minutes worth of poses from the tanned egyptian.)

"Why would we," at this he nudged his head in Bakura's direction, "want to go to a party with the shrimpy king of CRAP and his gang of friendship whores?" At this Mokuba seemed to brighten and a sly smile slid onto his face.

"Because this party is a costume party and whoever has the best costume wins."

Marik brought a finger to his lips and Bakura could see the rusty gears working inside of the egyptian blond's head. Marik pondered his thoughts aloud, "So this party allows us to dress up in any manner of clothing we wish?" Mokuba nodded slowly, smile still plastered on his face. "And the pharaoh will be there...dressed in some form of ridiculous clothing?"

Mokuba, again, nodded before he said, "Last time I saw him, he was trying on tutus for the party."

Marik's eyes turned predatory and his entire demeanor shifted to that of the proverbial tomb keeper who ate the pharaoh. Bakura set his footing and gripped the doorframe with more purpose. Had he been a half-decent person he would have warned the mop of black hair in front of him of the impending event but he'd rather wait for the reaction. He knew what was coming next.

Marik started off with a low guffaw from the back of this throat that reminded Bakura of the lullabies of fat toads he used to hear centuries ago on the Nile. The blond Egyptian then escalated from the husky laugh to his trademark high pitched cackle and Bakura had to admit, the transition between the two evil laughs was seamless.

"This is the perfect opportunity to embarrass the foolish pharaoh and his baby panda! Bakura, can't you see? Our evil plan is simple! We must obtain better costumes than Yugi and once we win the contest, he'll be so mortified that he'll never play a single card game for as long as he lives!" The evil laughter carried on for another minute before slowing and finally ceasing.

Bakura rolled his eyes. The odds of the crazy haired brat not playing another card game after losing a simple costume contest was far fetched but the chance of wounding the pharaoh's ego was too good to pass up.

"Marik, you're usually an idiot," Marik's face fell significantly. Bakura did not miss a beat in his speech, "But this time you've actually come up with a plan I am not ashamed to participate in." Marik straightened his shoulders and puffed out his chest causing his abdominal muscles to expand and contract in a way that was completely, not at all, appealing to Bakura in any way. The white haired man clumsily turned his attention back to Mokuba and again asked why the boy was handcuffed.

"Oh, well I figured if it looked like I was already kidnapped, you wouldn't have to fight the urge to kidnap me and then you'd actually listen to what I had to say." Mokuba shrugged his shoulders as best as he could with his hands still cuffed.

Bakura opened his mouth swiftly and efficiently. "Have you considered dressing as a bondage slave for your party?"

Mokuba kicked the ground sadly and whispered, "Yugi would just steal my spotlight."