Hello all! Wow, I'm so bad at keeping up with posting this stuff. I'm really really sorry. Well, enjoy!

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Duke blinked slowly. "Huh?"

Joey groaned. He reached out and, grabbing Duke by the blanket-front, shook him. "Jean . . . Claude . . . abducted . . . my . . . wife!" he said, slowly and carefully.

Duke pulled away. "What? Wait, you mean, like, really?"

"Yes!"

"Oh." Duke paused for a moment. "Uh, want some coffee?"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Joey sat hunched over a cup of black Turkish coffee so strong you could stand a spoon up in it and watched Duke mangle eggs. "What exactly are ya tryin' ta make?" he asked finally.

"Omelet," Duke turned around. "Why?"

"Well, omelets aren't generally flaming."

"What?" Duke spun back to face the stove. "Damn!" he swatted at the flames leaping out of the pan with a potholder, igniting it, and threw that into the water-filled sink, where it fizzled gently.

"I'm guessing ya weren't allowed to play with matches as a child?" Joey said dryly.

"Yeah, ha ha. But my cooking skills-"

"Or lack thereof."

"Or la- hey! Look, the point is that's not the issue. Are you absolutely certain Mai's with this . . . whatever his name is? She's not just out shopping or something?"

"Duke, she left the purse with her credit cards. That means either she didn't wanna go out, or she was fingurin' on somebody else footin' whatever bills came along. I know she's wit Jean-Claude, an' considerin' she hates his weasely little slimy girly-man guts . . . ."

"I get the picture." Duke stirred his own coffee thoughtfully, putting considerable strain on his spoon. "Wow. Well, I have to say I didn't see it coming . . . . I mean, he really didn't strike me as the kind of guy who'd take a risk like that. Did you notice he was wearing makeup?"

"Yeah. Mai pointed it out. But look, Duke, whaddam I gonna do? I can't go ta the police, I've got no evidence except that they're both gone." Joey's head sank into his hands. "I'm so confused . . . ."

"Aren't we all." Duke began clearing the table, adding to the pile of dirty dishes he knew he wasn't going to get around to cleaning. "Maybe there's a way we can . . . check up on our poncy-little-nancy-boy. He's gotta have paparazzi, and they've gotta have websites, so if he's been seen around with a drop-dead-gorgeous blonde we'll find out. Mai's not the type to be ignored."

"Yeah," Joey lifted his head. "You gonna check out those websites then? Cuz computers really really hate me."

Duke laughed. "Yeah, I'll grab my laptop. Go on into the living room. I'll be right there."

"'Kay." Joey plopped down on a battered old leather sofa and put his feet up on the coffee table, sending a pile of old newspapers and magazines cascading onto the floor. "Oops." He removed his feet quickly, and shoved the worst of the mess under the sofa.

Duke came back, computer in hand. "Okay, time for gossip . . ." He opened a search engine and soon came up with a website that promised "every deliciously sordid detail of Daytime Emmy and MTV Viewer's Choice nomine actor Jean-Claude's luscious love life."

"Someone had way too much fun with alliteration, there . . ." Duke muttered, navagating the website's brilliantly purple background and photos of Jean-Claude beaming for the cameras. A few even had a little gleam photoshopped in on his front teeth.

"Ah-hah! Candids. This is what we want."

Joey grabbed the laptop away from Duke. "Buxom blonde seen boarding plane with Jean-Claude. Could this be his newest flame?" he read. "What? That, I, he, wha- aargh!" he slammed the computer back onto Duke's lap and jumped up, pacing back and forth angrily.

"Owww . . ." Duke removed the offending object. "Watch where you're throwing next time, will you? I would like to have kids someday, you know."

"Oh. Sorry. But did you read that? They, he, d-do they know she's married?"

Duke sighed. "Her ring's not on in the photo."

"WHAT?"

"Woah! Calm, boy. Wouldn't you have her take of the ring if you were Jean-Claude? He's not as dumb as we thought, I think. Er . . . that is unless someone's helping him."

"Duke, we need to get her back! You gotta help me!" Joey flopped back onto the sofa. "I just don't know what to do."

"Well, we've gotta follow him. It won't be hard to find out where he lives . . . there are so many fansites devoted to that kind of information out there. I think we may need a little help though."

"From?"

"Well, I hate to say this, but Yugi."

"The little twitty one?"

"No! The Pharoah. Give me a little credit."

"Oh, right. Yeah, he's a good man to have around in a crisis. Besides, he owes me a favor." Joey stood. "Let's go."

"Just a second, Joey. We don't want to act rashly, now do we?"