Passing On The Journal Again

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Yami strode down the street as fast as his Ancient Egyptian leg would allow – which was fairly fast, surprisingly.

He was depressed, and he looked it, frowning and the like. His big, sad puppy-dog eyes made old ladies stop to pet his hair and make him feel better.

Yami bit at them, so they stopped after a while.

The Pharaoh was acting this way because he was concerned about his journal entry. He tried to put some white-out on his love confession, but Marik showed up and the Game Shop and Yugi gave him the white-out to sniff and sent him on his way.

So Yami was taking the journal to Joey to write in, hoping he wouldn't read it (actually he didn't think Joey could read, thus the reason he was giving it to him).

Joey's apartment complex was just up ahead. Yami ran across the freeway (causing some pile-ups but leaving him relatively unharmed) and shoved some people out of his way so he could have the elevator to himself. There was some unpleasant swearing and gunfire, but Yami was again unharmed, except for a bullet lodged in his hair.

The elevator was slow on its way up to Joey's apartment on the third floor. Yami shifted his weight from one foot to another, over and over again. The people who watch security tapes thought he was some Russian terrorist doing a Russian dance and sent some security guards out to deal with him.

Meanwhile, Yami had made it to Joey's front door. Joey himself answered it. "'Ey Yami, what's up?"

Yami gaped at him. "Excuse me? Are you suggesting I am "up" because of Bakura! Possibly because he is a turn on? How dare you – "

Joey gaped now. "Uh, nooooo… I meant, what's happening?"

"Ah." Yami cleared his throat. I must be more careful, he thought. "Not much is happening, Joseph. I am merely bringing you Ryou's friendship journal." He held the book out.

"Oh gee, tanks pal, I'll write in it soon. Have you?"

"Yes, but you are forbidden to read it, it holds words beyond your understanding and your brain would MELT should you attempt to read it, mortal fool!" Yami warned mystically.

"Dude, you sound like Bakura," Joey informed him.

"I DO NOT LIKE BAKURA!" Yami turned and ran.

Joey frowned and scratched his head as some security guards appeared.

"Hey Joey, where'd that Russian guy go?"