Dream with me

Chapter 7:

The next morning around 10:00, Marik and Bakura were back from the morning shift and in the kitchen eating breakfast with Ryou. Malik had shut himself in their room all night and was still in there in the morning. He told Ryou the night before that he was going to start his book right away. And told him to tell everyone not to bother him, not even for food.

"I'm worried about him." Marik sighed, "He usually loves to eat."

"He's just so excited about the idea of becoming an author, he's getting caught up in the moment. No need to worry. I think, once he gets this out of his system, he'll be back to normal." Ryou said, as he took another bite of his toast.

"A writer? Malik? I don't know... he never struck me as one of those artsy types."

"You don't have to be an artist to write a book, Bakura."

"Well, it helps. Besides, it isn't healthy to not eat. He'll wither away to nothing, and become a twig."

"Bakura!" Ryou elbowed him. "Don't say that."

"You should drag him out here, Marik. If you let him skip one meal, he'll skip five, then ten, then twenty."

"Do you think I should?" he turned to Ryou. "Drag him out here, I mean."

"No. I'm sure in time he'll-"

The kitchen door flew open, and Malik trudged into the kitchen. His hair was wild and he had bags under his giant purple eyes. "I've got writers block."

"...Oh, hey Malik." Marik said. "Are you hungry?"

"Only for inspiration."

"Inspiration?" Marik looked at Bakura, "Do we have any of that in the fridge?"

"I don't remember buying any."

Ryou shook his head, "Uh, Malik how long have you been awake?"

"All night."

"Maybe you should lie down. You know, if you sleep... you'll dream, and dreams give inspiration to a lot of people. It'll be good for you."

"YAWN!" Malik cracked his neck, "You're right... I think it would be good for me. I'm going to sleep." He turned around and walked out the door.

Bakura shook his head, "He doesn't look too good."

"That's how everyone looks when they spend their first night writing a story... I think." Ryou finished putting the dishes in the sink.

"Well, maybe we're making too much of this." Marik stood up, "I'm going out on the patio..." He walked out.

Ryou went over to the stove and started getting out a pan and other things.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to try and make that apple pie again. I just don't understand what I did wrong... But this time, I'm going to make a pie that'll be great."

"Well, good luck. I think I'll go watch T.V. Be careful in here, Ryou. We don't want the kitchen burning up." He waved and left.

"Whatever... I know I can do this."

About four hours later Ryou was working on his third apple pie. The first one, he burnt. The second, he let slip out of his hands and it went flying out the window. He was waiting for his third to finish in the oven; he was watching it intensely and looking for any sign of burning.

Finally, he was tired of waiting and stuck his hand in the oven to get it. But in all his excitement he forgot his oven-mitt. When he touched the pan, it scorched his fingers.

"AAHH!" he ran over to the sink and put his hand under the cold water. "..."

After kissing his own fingers for about two minutes he went back to the oven and got the pie out the correct way. He set in on the counter to cool. It looked pretty good, no burnt spots or anything like that.

After about five minutes he cut a small slice and took a medium size bite. His mouth curved into a frown as he spit it out, "Ra! What went wrong?!"

He threw the whole thing in the garbage and sat down at the table, 'Okay...think, Ryou. What am I missing? I did everything just like Malik told me, but mine turns out awful.'

"Oh..." Malik walked in. "Hi Ryou."

"Huh? Oh, hi. Did you have a nice sleep?"

"I only slept for a while. I tried to start my book back up again... but this 'writers block' thing just won't go away. It's awful... just starring at that blank page is driving me insane. I don't know how much more I can stand."

"It's only been a day, Malik. You should probably take two days off."

"Two days?! No, I can't. That's way too long, I couldn't stand it. I guess I'll just have to wait till inspiration hits me."

"I guess so. How many pages have you written?"

"About fifty pages."

"That's not bad at all, Malik. You should be proud of yourself."

"It's not that impressive-"

"Yes, it is! You're writing a book, and I can't even bake a simple apple pie..."

"Oh, you've been trying it again?"

"Yeah... but, I guess I'm not that good at cooking. Bakura tried teaching me once. It didn't work."

"Well, that doesn't mean you should give up! I'm not going to give up on my book. As Ra as my witness, I will finish this come hell or high water!"

"I'll tell ya one thing, Malik. You've certainly become more dramatic since you became a writer."

"Thank you."

"I guess you're right. I'm not going to give up on cooking... as long as you finish your novel."

"Can do."

"Have you figured out a name for it, yet?"

"No. I have no idea what to call it. So, I decided to name it after it's done."

"Sounds good to me."

In about two hours at the Fox News station, Bakura and Marik were getting ready for the night broadcast. Randy, as usual was fussing over them. But now they were convinced that they were professionals and didn't need to be fussed over, they were trained and ready for anything the world could throw at them... their words, not mine.

"Aw, come on Randy! We've done this already, we don't need to go over the steps." Bakura groaned.

Marik sat in his seat at the desk, "I know, we don't even need that stupid list up here anymore. I bet the other news anchormen laugh at us because we have a list. We studied it this afternoon. Why do we need it?"

"He's right, you know." Bakura added, "We don't need that list. Take it away."

"No way, you two. It's staying. I know we said you would wing it from now on, but that's going to far."

"You're treating us like kids!"

"Yeah, where's our independence?"

"I'm sorry, Bakura. I'm sorry, Marik. But, no. You need that list."

Marik's mouth twisted, "We studied it already! Please, take it away. Give us one chance and we'll do great!"

"We'll be the best anchormen ever created! Just once... please?"

"Ugh..." Randy took the paper and slipped it in his back pocket. "Fine. But you'd better not screw this up. If anything goes wrong, it's coming out of your paycheck!" he walked back behind the cameras.

"Alright," Marik whispered, "This'll rock so hard."

"Tell me about it, we're about to make history!"

"Get ready guys," Brian raised his hand, "And we're live in 3...2...1."

"Hey and welcome to Fox News. With me, Bakura."

"And me, Marik."

"Tonight we'll be discussing the Coby Briant case. Charges were dropped and-"

"I can't believe he's getting off so easily."

"I didn't say he was getting off easy. Wait, you think he did it?"

"Of course. Why would the girl lie like that?"

"The guy's famous. She just wanted money."

"Maybe... but I still think he did it. A lot of famous guys do things that they don't think they'll get punished for, but so far almost everything has ended up on the front page of the paper."

Bakura nodded, "Anyway. Cher was caught leaving a European airport with some marijuana around three o' clock today."

"No way, Cher? Ya know, she's gone all crazy since Sunny died."

"That guy with the fuzzy vests? Oh yeah... I saw him in a old book once."

"How old is she anyway?"

"I dunno. She's one of those old girls that keep their ages hidden from the world."

"I think she's lookin' pretty good for her supposed age."

"Which is?"

"About 70... or so."

"Ra, 70? That's kinda old isn't it? Shouldn't she be in be in an old folks home? Or in a wheelchair, at least?"

"She might be muscular. You know, a strong old person. I've seen a couple old people on the street just strutting around like they own the place."

"Old people don't strut."

"Tell that to that old lady that lived on our old street."

"Streets?" he thought a minute, "Oh yeah, that brings us to our next topic. Lately there has been an overflow of homeless people on the streets. Research shows that a hobo is on every street."

"Every street?"

"Yup. That's right. So many people can't pay their bills, and they soon end up in the gutter. I saw one just yesterday."

"Really? What'd he say?"

"I want your sandwich."

"What did you say?"

"Get your own."

"Wow. A real hobo encounter... You're lucky you weren't hurt."

"What?! Why would I be hurt?"

"I've heard they can attack you. I heard that hobo's are the cause of more deaths than car crashes and sharks put together."

"Really? We should warn everyone." Bakura turned back towards the camera, "If you see a hobo coming towards you... run. Or get it before it gets you."

"You should probably carry a stick, too. Or fire... I heard that scares them."

"By next month we'll probably be a hobo infested country."

"Do you think they'll have repellent for hobos? To keep them out of our houses?"

"Hobo Away. Sounds good to me."

Marik thought for a second, about another topic they had to on the list. Finally, he remembered, "Oh yeah, what about that hurricane that's coming. Aren't we supposed to say something about that?"

"Right. There's that hurricane, Francis coming soon. It just finished rampaging around the east shore... it's supposed to come to Domino this weekend."

"Cool, a hurricane is coming!"

"Why is that cool?"

"I've never been in a hurricane before."

"And you're not going to now. It's hitting north... not south."

"Aw, man."

"What do you mean by that? I heard that hurricanes could be dangerous."

"Like how? It's just a bunch of rain."

"And strong winds. It could uproot a tree for Ra's sake!"

"Oh yeah, Bakura... Like I'm going to be scared of a tree. What's it going to do? Bark at me?" he thought for a second and realized his own pun, "Ha! Get it? Tree? Bark? Ha, I crack myself up."

"Um-hmm." Bakura rolled his eyes, "Anyway, the winds are going to be really strong. So buy lots of supplies and board up your windows. Who knows? Maybe a tree will coming flying through your window if you don't."

Marik looked up at the red light, "Well, that's all the time we have for tonight. Join us again tomorrow morning."

"I'm Bakura."

"And I'm Marik."

"Signing out." they said, once again, in unison.

Brian turned the camera, "You guys are getting better and better at this."

"Thanks," Bakura said watching Randy run over to them.

Marik turned around, "Well did we do a good job without the list, Randy?"

"You two got everything mixed up! Cher wasn't caught with marijuana; she was caught with Ozzy Osbourne! Hurricane Francis has turned into only a tropical wind! Hobos aren't on every street, whores are! The only thing you got right was that Coby Briant case."

"Well, so we spiced it up a little. So what?" Bakura asked sheepishly.

"Cher's representatives have been calling me for the past twenty minutes threatening to sue!"

"They aren't going to sue you, it's free publicity." Marik said.

"Nothing is free." Randy turned around, "I need a pain killer... I'll see you two tomorrow... If there is a tomorrow."

Marik and Bakura headed for the elevator, "Do you think he's mad at us?" Marik asked.

"Nah, you know Randy. He'll drink a couple of beers and be back to normal."