A/N: Hey! What up? Another new chapter! Oh.. this was inspired by a Dane Cook skit! I LOVE him SO fucking much! But, anyways... enjoy~!

Note: This is when Bakura is in his late twenty's.

I don't own anything.


Chapter Nine: That Creepy Guy At Work

(Bakura's POV)

Your whole life, there's always been that one creepy, weird person somewhere in your life. I guarantee it. That's just when we were little! Then you finally grow up... Even now, at my job, there is still a freak. There is a weird guy at every job that makes you concerned every time he's around. And the strange thing about it... it's. The. Same. Guy. At. Every single. Job. You go to. Right?

He's there... you quit... you go to the new job and you're like, "Ohmygod! Is that the guy from the other job! That's the GUY! That's the scary guy!" in an extremely high pitched voice that is almost a whisper.

I can describe the guy. I can tell you right now; list all the features of this guy. First, he's not a fat guy. He's not fat, you would never say he's fat. But he is... shapes. He's like an emiba... he's a different consistency. He's like a lava lamp... type of individual.

He walks around very slow... He's got that perfect orb ass. And you're like, "What is that? It's perfect!" What is that! You wanna see it- but you don't.

Nobody talks to this guy. You don't talk to that guy. He's got like no pupils... so, you never truly see his eyes. He's got the pocket with all the sharp objects comin' up outta there... in case he needs to stab... a lot. And nobody talks to that guy.

If you're in the break room with a couple of our friends, and he suddenly comes morphing in... the second he comes in you're like, "Hey, guys! Wanna... wanna get the fuck outta the break room? Do you guys wanna... wanna... go break dancing on top of the roof or something? Let's just... let's go behind the vending machine! Can somebody... can somebody just pull the machine out so I can just go hide behind it! MOVE THE MACHINE! PLEASE!"

Nobody talks to that guy... but let me tell you... Every job I've ever had in my life, I've talked to that guy. I would find him on purpose and I would have little chit-chats with him. And I would be very interested and I'd be like, "Oh, hey, by the way, here's a Snickers! That's for you. Peanuts, caramel, put that in your mouth... enjoy that."

You know why I talk to that guy? 'Cause when that day finally comes when he just fucking snaps and he comes into work with an AK 47, going down every hall shooting every body... and then, when he finally gets to my office and he gasps, "Thanks for the candy...!" before shooting everyone else in the building, besides me.