T-Shirt People
Thanks to the wonderful Silver for the prompt: Polarshipping. 48. "Boo."
Inspiration: Bergdorf's, YOGTAS, self-parody, crack fics, and a silly, nostalgic longing for trick-or-treating...
Disclaimer: Do not own.
...
Joey Wheeler isn't your dress-up kind of guy.
He's more your oversized, holes worn in the shoulder t-shirt kind of man, preferably the soft kind of cotton that comes from repeated washings with bleach in lieu of detergent. (Mai flat out refused to do laundry and, besides, Joey knows how to operate machines that aren't video games. Sort of.) Sometimes he's even a loose-fitting polo shirt and khaki kind of man, but only when ripped Levi's aren't acceptable attire for Serenity art showings. On very, very rare occasions he's a fitted seersucker kind of man, when Mai puts her foot down and calls him Joseph Matthew Wheeler in her trademark lilt, which meant he would be wearing the black patent leather loafers from Bergdorf's, not that Joey knew who the hell that even was.
That was the way he liked it, too. Simple, clean, and routine. None of the fuss that women put into their outfits. Of course, he meant that in the most feminist of ways. The last time he accidentally referred to Mai, Serenity, and Tea as girls, they took turns clocking him so hard he couldn't lift his deck for a week. Tristan and Yugi chortled, too, before the triple glare of doom lasered in their direction. at which point they promptly remembered it was their turn to take out the garbage...for forty-five minutes even thought chute was just down the hallway...while the girls- sorry, women- took turns lecturing with words too long to be pronounced at 3 a.m.
Strange, how normal, rational people went from giggling about chocolates one minute to obsessively analyzing philosophical paradigms and color schemes the next, as if getting dressed was some masterclass in pointillism as opposed to basic body coverings against the autumnal chill.
But no matter. Joey didn't mind as long as they interpreted his slightly glazed-over look as interest instead of utter confusion, especially when they began droning on and on about dressing up as feminist icons for Halloween, whatever that was.
Mai tried to explain once. Joey just stared, jaw gaping, until she finally gave up, figuring she would have better luck convincing Kaiba to smile once a year, or, failing that, not being an asshole as often. She recognized that spaced-out, utterly bamboozled look on her boyfriend's face. It was the same one Tea and 'Ren wore whenever the newest catalogs from Industrial Illusions were released. The duelists of the bunch murmured excitedly; Tea and 'Ren just shook their heads and quietly exited the squealing convention before the magic and trap cards brochure made an appearance.
Whatever Halloween was, it involved dressing up, and not your average, run of the mill dinner and a movie dress-up, either. Halloween almost always involved copious amounts of glitter, glue guns, and at least one duct-tape related injury. This year the triplets went as knight-in-shining armor, hipster artist, and white swan, respectively.
Joey, Tristan, and Yugi simply blinked with confusion. Halloween, their eyes murmured, before their owners replaced them with Poker Nights. They used to bet for money and borderline misdemeanors. Ever since a particular heinous incident involving Seto, a motorcycle, and cardgames on said motorcycle, however, they've graduated to inane, domestic things like unloading the dishwasher and unclogging the drains, chores for which Seto was always "too busy" but Mokuba (very grudgingly) wasn't.
The girls simply blinked at their shenanigans, then left as quickly for their weekly window shopping appointment with Bergdorf. Cardgames on motorcycles, they huffed.
Ding-dong.
Uh-oh. Did one of the girls forget something?
Tristan hid the beer behind some plants just in case. Yugi dumped chips in a bowl of salsa. Seto vanished into the linen closet.
Joey cracked the door open.
And promptly dropped all two weeks of trash duty on the floor.
It was a child.
A tiny, functional human (or at least, Joey didn't see any wired or antennas originating from the head/control area), dressed like a miniature, non-tipsy version of Yugi, complete with flyaways and tri-colored mullet, muscle tee, knock-off pyramid dangling from an industrial grade steel chain. It smiled, which in all honesty was only slightly less disconcerting than Seto's hand-towel covered head as he snapped pictures for the KC blog.
Privately, Joey decided that the little munchkin wasn't so bad. The Yugi wannabe was painfully cute, not that Joey would ever voice the sentiment to actual Yugi, who gaped from the kitchen, looking like a cross between a gutted frog and a flapping swordfish. Alternating currents of amusement and horror rippled.
Another one flanked little Yuge's right, this time with an obviously hair-sprayed brunette mullet, camel trench coat, chanting some mumbo jumbo about his voice giving him super strength. It grinned, too, a small speck of chocolate visible on the chin.
The one that flanked Yuge's left looked like a shrunken Seto, complete with portable blue eyes jet and slightly constipated mien. Expectant, they held out a plastic caricature of hollowed-out pumpkins (in neon purple, no less!), already half-drowned in rainbow-colored, glucose-spiking pharmaceuticals.
"Trick-or-Treat!"
Joey stared back, aghast.
The last child, obviously the leader of the group, stretched his spine and looked appraisingly at Joey, Tristan, and Yugi, back to his squad of tiny clones, and back to Joey again. The assessment was alarmingly grave.
"Your costume sucks, man."
Huh?
"Look, man, if you wanna dress up like da real Joey Wheelah, you gotta lose the slouch. Stand up tall, believe yo'self. And get a squad that don't look like a lotta fish, ya feel?"
Joey decidedly did not feel this...whatever this was. Halloween seemed to be an alternate universe where children fangirled like those nice, if slightly odd, twenty-somethings that sometimes came to duel monster conventions. Little Joey was dressed in a battered tee, ripped jeans, and carried a life-sized red eyes plushie, though the squishiness of its belly and homemade wings ruined the ferocious effect quite a bit.
At that, Yugi and Tristan rounded the corner to the balcony, shoulders shaking with glee. Seto disappeared into the linens again, towels tumbling, not even bothering to stop wheezing for a good half an hour...
Purely by accident, Joey started autographing Seto's deck first to give to the children. They and the children who followed left slooooowly, judgment radiating from their eyes at the supposedly "unrealistic" nature of his costume.
By the end of the night, most of Seto's deck (save the blue eyes cards that never left his person), snacks, poker chips were gone, autographed by one very proud Joey Wheeler.
Mai, 'Ren, and Tea broke down in tears of laughter upon the re-enactment of the scene. Seto tried to slink out unnoticed, but not before Tea forced a too-big t-shirt of a grinning ghoul upon him along with a matching one for Mokuba. She picked out a toothless pumpkin for Yugi, who grinned like a very orange highlighter. Tristan just laughed at 'Ren's Freaky Frankenstein set.
Joey graciously accepted Mai's gift.
Why the hell someone had to ruin a perfectly good t-shirt by emblazoning "Boo!" across the front was a mystery, but that was OK. Mai had a matching one and that was all that mattered.
They were t-shirt kind of people, after all.
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