A Day in the Life of Malik Ishtar
Chapter Two: Motorcycles and Pissed-Off Anzu's and.. COFFEE!
Author's notes: THANK YOU, REVIEWERS! *distributes cookies* Anyway, the used car dealer is, in fact, a relative of our very own Yugi. He's Sugoroku's younger brother, which makes him Yugi's..great..uncle. I dunno where that came from, just kinda' go with me here. O_o And so very sorry for the wait. *bowbow* I've been having long periods of writer's block, then all of a sudden I'd spew out two or three paragraphs, then two days would pass and nothing happens, then I'd write another two paragraphs, and so on. x.x Yeah. Enjoy!
The forgotten disclaimer: I don't own anything. ._. I might've owned Malik's motorcycle at one time, but I dunno..
On to the story!
Malik's salivating glands were working overtime as his eyes scanned the lustrous curves of the motorcycle. If he didn't get this bike. he'd.. he'd. BE REALLY UPSET. To say the least.
"Hello there, laddy!" Malik was a tad miffed that someone had interrupted his road-ruling heaven fantasy, but he dismissed the distraction only because whoever it was had distinguished him as a *guy*. He peeled his eyes off the motorcycle and fixated them on the short, middle- aged man standing beside him.
"Um, hi," Malik replied dryly. The little man was less than half his height, with peculiar purple-ish hair that was greying toward the tips. And if people thought Malik's attire was odd, this guy's took the cake. He had on an green and yellow plaid suit with a bright blue tie and brown dress shoes. Malik was starting to appreciate his own sense of style, however out of touch it was.
"Mutou Karama, at your service!" the midget said, holding up his hand. Malik reluctantly shook it.
"Ma-Namu," he stuttered in response. There wasn't any harm in being a little secretive. was there?
"I couldn't help but notice your fascination in our newest motorcycle model," Karama commented as he subtly wiped a small puddle of Malik's drool that had accumulated on the bike's fender. Malik watched him with a lustful glint in his eye, as if he was a savage animal ready to pounce at the creature which threatened his precious treasure.
"How much?" Malik managed to splutter, cutting to the chase. Surely no price was too high for the leader of The Gurus.
"Well." Karama began. ..Because of the author's laziness and all- around not caring nature, the buying and registration and such of the motorcycle will be summed up into one sentence. And there it was. One must be on their toes in order to read a fic such a this, or one will miss the.. "important" parts. Anyhow.
She folded her arms, her white go-go boots tapping impatiently on the cement. How stupid of Yugi to forget to call her this morning! Suddenly remembering, she dug through her pastel pink purse for her pastel pink cell phone in its pastel pink cell phone case. She unlocked the keypad and checked for any missed calls, thinking that her "Shuffle" ringtone had not been heard from under the assortment of makeup and things also shoved in the purse. But alas, there was nothing.
"'Oh, sure, Anzu'," she mumbled to herself, imitating Yugi. "'I'll call you first thing tomorrow morning so we can meet somewhere for my first duel!' Hmph!"
"Did you hear about Esper Roba?" Anzu heard a voice behind her exclaim.
"Yeah! He got beat bad, didn't he?" another voice answered.
"Uh-huh. By some Jounouchi guy. Roba's whole psychic ploy was total bull!"
Anzu turned to the two duelists, smiling sweetly. "Do either of you know where Jounouchi is right now?"
The two duelists gave her a blank stare. "That duel was over an hour ago," one said finally. "Jounouchi could be anywhere in the city by now."
"What?!" it took all of Anzu's self-control to not unleash her ever- growing PMS-induced rage on the innocent young men. "But-he-UGH!" She threw her hands in the air in defeat, then stormed off.
"..Wait!" she cried aloud, coming to an abrupt stop. "The Game Shop! Jichan must know where Yugi is!" With that, Anzu took off to the crosswalk and waited oblivious to the crowd of people staring at her after her sudden outburst. The "walk" sign flashed on, and she got halfway across the street before she was halted by an oncoming red motorcycle that was racing across the intersecting, weaving rather wobbly between a few unsuspecting cars. Apparently, it wasn't going to stop. The speed machine whizzed in front of her at three times the speed limit.
"You jerk!" Anzu screamed. "Don't you see the red light?! HEY! Pedestrians get the right-of-way, you know!" But its rider, a tanned and blonde .girl?.. merely flipped her the bird and swerved around the corner, gone.
"People these days," Anzu muttered as she walked on, "not only are they rude, but you can't even distinguish their gender at first glance! What is the world coming to?"
Malik pulled a perfect parallel park, kicked out the stand, and got off his motorcycle. He yanked his keys out of the ignition and pulled off his helmet, shaking out his hair until it was at its normal volume.
"Pretty good for my first ride," he complimented himself, setting the helmet on the leather seat. "If only that damn girl hadn't gotten in my way and scared the crap out of me!" He strolled toward the Kuro Neko Café entrance with a sigh, twirling his keychain on his index finger.
Immediately after his entry, the smell of incense nearly knocked him off his feet. The whole room was filled with the smoke, illuminated rather prettily with blue, purple, and green lights. There was a stage, and on it, a scrawny guy in a completely black outfit and sunglasses had the spotlight. He was reciting, in English, what seemed like a poem to the beat of a bongo drum, something like "One fish, two fish. Red fish, blue fish." This crazy setup, however, was not to discourage Malik from getting a *real* cappuccino.
"Groovy!" cried the crowd of black-clad people, erupting in chorus of snaps as the man finished his poem. Malik rolled his eyes and made his way to the counter in the rear of the restaurant where he purchased a jumbo white chocolate mocha latté topped with whipped creamed and sprinkles. He then found a nice, dark corner with a small table to sit down at.
Time check. Clicking the little glow button on his watch, he found it to be a quarter after three o'clock. He had promised Rishido he'd return by seven to find lodging on land, so that gave him four hours to concentrate on his mission.
But.. *how*? This city was filled with potential Pharaohs, it could take months for him to find the right person. His Millennium Rod could sense when other Items, such as the Millennium Puzzle, were near, but what were the chances of him coming within range of an Item in a city of this size? Suddenly his plan didn't seem so wonderful. And suddenly the incense and dark milieu of the room was making him sleepy. Going to bed at four in the morning and waking up at noon was not a good idea.
And so, our hero drifts off into a nightmare-induced sleep as the next mentally unstable poet reads his poem: "Look at all the happy creatures dancing on the lawn. There's a giant doing cartwheels, a statue wearing high heels. Tambourines and elephants are playing in the band.
Won't you take a ride on the flying spoon?
Doo, doo-doo.
Wondrous apparition provided by magician.
Bother me tomorrow, Today, I'll buy no sorrows. Doo, doo, doo-doo. And out my backdoor."
~*~*~*~
Darr. I really need to find some inspiration for this story because I want to finish it! *shakes a fist* Oh, and one question: Do you guys want me to follow the real Battle City plot, or should I do my own thing? IM me, email me, review, whatever. x.x Sankyuu!
Chapter Two: Motorcycles and Pissed-Off Anzu's and.. COFFEE!
Author's notes: THANK YOU, REVIEWERS! *distributes cookies* Anyway, the used car dealer is, in fact, a relative of our very own Yugi. He's Sugoroku's younger brother, which makes him Yugi's..great..uncle. I dunno where that came from, just kinda' go with me here. O_o And so very sorry for the wait. *bowbow* I've been having long periods of writer's block, then all of a sudden I'd spew out two or three paragraphs, then two days would pass and nothing happens, then I'd write another two paragraphs, and so on. x.x Yeah. Enjoy!
The forgotten disclaimer: I don't own anything. ._. I might've owned Malik's motorcycle at one time, but I dunno..
On to the story!
Malik's salivating glands were working overtime as his eyes scanned the lustrous curves of the motorcycle. If he didn't get this bike. he'd.. he'd. BE REALLY UPSET. To say the least.
"Hello there, laddy!" Malik was a tad miffed that someone had interrupted his road-ruling heaven fantasy, but he dismissed the distraction only because whoever it was had distinguished him as a *guy*. He peeled his eyes off the motorcycle and fixated them on the short, middle- aged man standing beside him.
"Um, hi," Malik replied dryly. The little man was less than half his height, with peculiar purple-ish hair that was greying toward the tips. And if people thought Malik's attire was odd, this guy's took the cake. He had on an green and yellow plaid suit with a bright blue tie and brown dress shoes. Malik was starting to appreciate his own sense of style, however out of touch it was.
"Mutou Karama, at your service!" the midget said, holding up his hand. Malik reluctantly shook it.
"Ma-Namu," he stuttered in response. There wasn't any harm in being a little secretive. was there?
"I couldn't help but notice your fascination in our newest motorcycle model," Karama commented as he subtly wiped a small puddle of Malik's drool that had accumulated on the bike's fender. Malik watched him with a lustful glint in his eye, as if he was a savage animal ready to pounce at the creature which threatened his precious treasure.
"How much?" Malik managed to splutter, cutting to the chase. Surely no price was too high for the leader of The Gurus.
"Well." Karama began. ..Because of the author's laziness and all- around not caring nature, the buying and registration and such of the motorcycle will be summed up into one sentence. And there it was. One must be on their toes in order to read a fic such a this, or one will miss the.. "important" parts. Anyhow.
She folded her arms, her white go-go boots tapping impatiently on the cement. How stupid of Yugi to forget to call her this morning! Suddenly remembering, she dug through her pastel pink purse for her pastel pink cell phone in its pastel pink cell phone case. She unlocked the keypad and checked for any missed calls, thinking that her "Shuffle" ringtone had not been heard from under the assortment of makeup and things also shoved in the purse. But alas, there was nothing.
"'Oh, sure, Anzu'," she mumbled to herself, imitating Yugi. "'I'll call you first thing tomorrow morning so we can meet somewhere for my first duel!' Hmph!"
"Did you hear about Esper Roba?" Anzu heard a voice behind her exclaim.
"Yeah! He got beat bad, didn't he?" another voice answered.
"Uh-huh. By some Jounouchi guy. Roba's whole psychic ploy was total bull!"
Anzu turned to the two duelists, smiling sweetly. "Do either of you know where Jounouchi is right now?"
The two duelists gave her a blank stare. "That duel was over an hour ago," one said finally. "Jounouchi could be anywhere in the city by now."
"What?!" it took all of Anzu's self-control to not unleash her ever- growing PMS-induced rage on the innocent young men. "But-he-UGH!" She threw her hands in the air in defeat, then stormed off.
"..Wait!" she cried aloud, coming to an abrupt stop. "The Game Shop! Jichan must know where Yugi is!" With that, Anzu took off to the crosswalk and waited oblivious to the crowd of people staring at her after her sudden outburst. The "walk" sign flashed on, and she got halfway across the street before she was halted by an oncoming red motorcycle that was racing across the intersecting, weaving rather wobbly between a few unsuspecting cars. Apparently, it wasn't going to stop. The speed machine whizzed in front of her at three times the speed limit.
"You jerk!" Anzu screamed. "Don't you see the red light?! HEY! Pedestrians get the right-of-way, you know!" But its rider, a tanned and blonde .girl?.. merely flipped her the bird and swerved around the corner, gone.
"People these days," Anzu muttered as she walked on, "not only are they rude, but you can't even distinguish their gender at first glance! What is the world coming to?"
Malik pulled a perfect parallel park, kicked out the stand, and got off his motorcycle. He yanked his keys out of the ignition and pulled off his helmet, shaking out his hair until it was at its normal volume.
"Pretty good for my first ride," he complimented himself, setting the helmet on the leather seat. "If only that damn girl hadn't gotten in my way and scared the crap out of me!" He strolled toward the Kuro Neko Café entrance with a sigh, twirling his keychain on his index finger.
Immediately after his entry, the smell of incense nearly knocked him off his feet. The whole room was filled with the smoke, illuminated rather prettily with blue, purple, and green lights. There was a stage, and on it, a scrawny guy in a completely black outfit and sunglasses had the spotlight. He was reciting, in English, what seemed like a poem to the beat of a bongo drum, something like "One fish, two fish. Red fish, blue fish." This crazy setup, however, was not to discourage Malik from getting a *real* cappuccino.
"Groovy!" cried the crowd of black-clad people, erupting in chorus of snaps as the man finished his poem. Malik rolled his eyes and made his way to the counter in the rear of the restaurant where he purchased a jumbo white chocolate mocha latté topped with whipped creamed and sprinkles. He then found a nice, dark corner with a small table to sit down at.
Time check. Clicking the little glow button on his watch, he found it to be a quarter after three o'clock. He had promised Rishido he'd return by seven to find lodging on land, so that gave him four hours to concentrate on his mission.
But.. *how*? This city was filled with potential Pharaohs, it could take months for him to find the right person. His Millennium Rod could sense when other Items, such as the Millennium Puzzle, were near, but what were the chances of him coming within range of an Item in a city of this size? Suddenly his plan didn't seem so wonderful. And suddenly the incense and dark milieu of the room was making him sleepy. Going to bed at four in the morning and waking up at noon was not a good idea.
And so, our hero drifts off into a nightmare-induced sleep as the next mentally unstable poet reads his poem: "Look at all the happy creatures dancing on the lawn. There's a giant doing cartwheels, a statue wearing high heels. Tambourines and elephants are playing in the band.
Won't you take a ride on the flying spoon?
Doo, doo-doo.
Wondrous apparition provided by magician.
Bother me tomorrow, Today, I'll buy no sorrows. Doo, doo, doo-doo. And out my backdoor."
~*~*~*~
Darr. I really need to find some inspiration for this story because I want to finish it! *shakes a fist* Oh, and one question: Do you guys want me to follow the real Battle City plot, or should I do my own thing? IM me, email me, review, whatever. x.x Sankyuu!