[[Author's Note: Hey guys! I know last time I said I usually do 'Narrator's Notes' instead of 'Authors Notes', but this one I had planned ahead of time, I swear.

Maybe you'll notice, in the middle of the chapter a handful of names. Christine, Corrine, Yukari, Keiko. Some of you may recognize them, some may not. They're the names of other OCs from other Yu-Gi-Oh stories on this site! I thought it would be fun to mention them during the story, seeing as they're the stories I like to read, and some of the many that motivate me to work harder.

Corrine Casterwill belongs to My Pharoh's Keeper from the story A Trip Through My Favorite Cartoon

Christine Wilson belongs to RobynHood3 from the story A Witchy Idea

Keiko Tamori belongs to LeafeonLover from the story Something Special

Yukari Kurihara belongs to theweebologist from the story My Biggest Fear

See the A/N at the bottom for more!]]

[TWO] ["THE RULE REVISION"]

Amy Merced had four rules that she used to govern the entirety of her life. 1. Never boil oil. For god sakes, that's what a deep fryer is for.

Well, technically, the rule was to "use the proper tool to do the proper job," but she had since adapted it to display a more sensible example. Using right tool made any job function better and easier. There's a reason cashiers have registers instead of holding bundles of money in their hands, and cinema associates don't pop the corn kernels over an open flame. It just made sense.

2. If at all avoidable, don't ask for favors. Absolutely NOTHING useful can come out of it. The long-term effects of asking for a favor, then returning said favor, then asking again, is a seemingly endless cycle of stupidity. You can make a mutually beneficial deal, in fact, you probably can't get through life without one, but you can't ask for a freebie.

3. Never tell a bad lie. Which is any lie. Never get involved in a bad lie. Which - again - any lie. You know, just don't touch lying with a thirty-nine and a half foot pole. Lying is like asking a favor, it never happens once, and it makes aflush of words and promises that seep down the drain, are spit out the other end, only to be drained again.

And finally, the ever important rule 4. Never take, or let someone give you, the middle seat. Unless you want to be insufferably trapped and awkwardly bored.

Of course, there have been a time or two where she broke these rules, and each time received a crude wakeup about why they're established in the first place. This, squished between Téa and Tristan in the dirty Burger World booth and sitting directly across from Joey eating a burger with all the grace of a seal, was one of those times. To the left was Téa's salad and relatably grossed out face as she watched Joey practically swallowed his food whole, and to the right was Tristan's smelly chili burger and his looming stink eye. It was fan [4fitler] tastic.

Joey's mouthful banter was almost a welcomed distraction. "Se My y ewl?" he said, barely audible between the hamburger and pickles.

"Joey please, that's gross. Will you at least swallow first." Téa scolded, not wanting to admit her ¥500 salad was x500 times less appetizing.

Even Yugi, for a nice as he is, was trying hard to hide his own cringe, saying, "She's right Joey. You don't want to choke on your food."

Amy rolled her eyes, wishing she at least has the space to put her elbow on the table.

The blond finally did, taking in a deep gasp of air, "I said, 'so Amy, you duel'?"

"Oh yeah, I definitely got that through the ketchup-y splits." she murmured quickly, before saying out loud, "No."

"But you do have a deck."

Bakura, who finished his fries before everyone else and had already - politely - washed his hands, was flipping through Yugi's deck. Everyone had their cards out on the table, except Amy of course. "It's too bad Ms. Chono confiscated them. I would have liked to see how you put it together."

They weren't going to let this go, were they? She inwardly groaned.

"It built like every other deck. Monsters, traps, spells, hardly anything special. Not that I prefer to use them. Dueling's got too much politics."

Five pairs of questioning eyes drilled a massive hole into the sentence. Téa was the first to speak. "I think Duel Monsters is just supposed to be fun, not politics."

Yugi was quiet while the others spoke up, but there was a gleam in his eyes that made it evident that he had a thought. It wasn't until Amy leaned over the table to ask his opinion did he finally get a chance to say it. "Well…" he started quietly, thoughtfully, "I guess some people do use Duel Monsters to settle their disputes… And a lot of people play competitively… but, uh, I think it's best when you can play it with a group of friends."

It was amazing to see that something so cheesy was so well received. The warm fuzzies emitting from the others was so thick that if Téa and Tristan's squished elbows didn't suffocate Amy, it surely would. Bakura nodded understandingly, but the others shot up with soft little smiles like there was some inside joke, the busty brunette going as far as to say, "That's our Yugi, a little softy."

And Amy had the pleasure of uncomfortably cringing in the middle of it. "Holy [4filter], what are we, on camera? Could you turn down the Hallmark just a little?"

"Sorry, Amy, we've just been through a lot together." Téa smiled, with almost a little too much of edge to be causal.

Bakura, still shuffling through the cards, piped up. "I think my favorite part of Duel Monsters is the stories behind it."

Then he did something a little strange; he looked straight at Amy. Right in the eyes. There was a moment where Amy felt… connected somehow, but at the same time leagues away. Because that narratively makes sense.

She gritted her teeth. Suddenly, a flick of discomfort twinged through her arm. More specifically, it was her wrist. It flared up with a small itchy, burning sensation as if she was holding her wrist over an open flame. Ignorable at first, but by the time Bakura finished his sentence it did more than tickle.

The others, oblivious to the moment, shifted in their seats. "Oh really? Like what?" Joey asked.

"I thought the story behind Duel Monsters was something about Maximillion Pegasus and ancient Rome or something." Tristan pondered out loud.

Egypt. A quiet voice in the back of Amy's mind slithered up the correction. She puckered her lips.

"Egypt," Yugi said out loud, "like my grandpa's excavations."

"Oh, yeah."

"But that's not all." Bakura's story voice was innocent, yet ominous, and drew the others in perfectly. "I heard rumors that the monsters Pegasus created came from stone images. Some even had stories about the monsters, like the Dark Magician serving a pharaoh."

Something in Yugi clicked, and suddenly he was in the loop. He could feel what Amy felt, the undertones of Bakura's words. The subtle implication that someone knew something they weren't telling. "Or this card," he slid the 'Mystical Elf' monster across the table, "there's a story that says that this monster served a traitorous priestess." All eyes landed on the card, the campfire bringing this story to life. Except Amy, who looked at it for a second before the sensation in her wrist sharply intensified.

With round, five-year-old eyes peeking through his overgrown bangs, Joey couldn't help but be drawn in. "How do you know all dis` Bakura?"

"Oh," he said with a pause, "my well my father wasn't an archaeologist like Yugi's grandfather, but he was a curator of sorts. It's amazing what people like to talk about."

"What kind of things did he curate?" Amy piped up suddenly, her teeth gritting through discomfort, "Anything interesting."

The balance suddenly tipped catching Bakura off guard for a moment, but quickly heavied the challenging air. It was as if others slowly disappeared between them, fading into the black on the background. Until there was only Bakura and Amy, eye to eye. That was when Bakura put on the sweetest smile he could muster, reaching underneath his shirt and emerged with a large object hanging from his neck.

The object was difficult to describe, although if one wanted to stretch his eager imagination, he could call it a "ring." Not a "ring" in the sense that it fits around a little finger, nor a "ring" as in the stadium that sporting events take place. It merely had the shape of a ring but was too large to be considered a traditional one. Never mind his finger, the object could fit Bakura's entire face.

One could also say that it looked like a dream catcher, five spike shaped charms hanging from the ring's exterior surface and a flat triangular panel connected at three points of the interior. In the center of that upside down triangle was the object's most notable quality - an eye, that looked vastly, deeply, and greedily at the onlookers. Every inch of it gleamed in solid gold.

"I believe this one's called the 'Millennium Ring,' it's an ancient artifact my father acquired in Egypt. Does it seem familiar at all." For Amy, Bakura's words were clear. He wasn't asking. He was stating.

Little did the two realize, despite the wall they had put around themselves, there was one other sitting in the darkness with them, whose stare at the item remained unbroken. Yugi Muto was slumped back in his seat, unblinking, yet unsure why he was captivated so much. Or why he understood the feeling that there was more than subtext to their banter. Then, Tristan said something, shattering the bubble, which made Yugi understand why. It wasn't complicated, nor intelligent. But it did the job.

"Is that like Yugi's thing? His 'Millennium' something or other."

Yugi blinked. "Puzzle," he corrected, "my grandpa called it a 'Millennium Puzzle.'"

As if calling its name brought it to life, the Millennium Puzzle let a gleam across its smooth surface. The puzzle, like Bakura's ring, had a more complex appearance than its name let on. While it was put together with many pieces, the elaborate pyramid shape and incredible tightness of those pieces made it more like a solid, oversized charm. One would never know at first glance that it was made of individual parts.

Much like the ring before it, the Millennium Puzzle's most impressive feature was on display, front and center. The eye symbol was once again carefully crafted into the mold.

"You know, I think I remember you mentioning it once. Your grandpa found it in a tomb, right?" Téa pondered, "Do you think that could be connected somehow?"

"What a coincidence that would be," Bakura continued to beam his sweetest beam, "to have two artifacts end up in the same city."

"I wouldn't bet your pretty albino face on it," Amy muttered, leaning back in her booth, arms crossed as much around her waist as the tablespace would allow.

Joey practically flew out of his seat, eyeball the nearby fast food menu, "All `dis talk about ancient Egypt is making me hungry. I say it's time to go back for seconds." Téa and Joey began arguing again, the woman practically pushing him out the door, and most of them laughed at the sight of it. She wagged her Lecture Finger, which is an appropriate gesture considering the five-year-old tantrum Joey was throwing, as Burger World disappeared behind them.

And leaves you to ask, what are we, on camera? Could you turn down the Hallmark a little bit?

The next day found Amy grumbling mercilessly. Not unlike myself, the Narrator, she would really, really, [really] rather be doing anything else right now. Her vocabulary cycled through a few keywords: "stupid," "annoying," "waste of time," as well as more choice words like "[4filter]," "[4filter]," and "[4filter]." Of course those last were mostly private. Despite first appearances, she wasn't actively trying to get in trouble.

She tried smoothing out the large, crude looking poster she just hanged, ironing out all the bubbles. 'RULE REVISION' it said in big, Impact looking lines, 'WE HAVE A RIGHT TO HAVE HOBBIES.' Underneath was a petition, sporting twenty blank lines. "God this is so stupid." Amy could hardly mutter the words with the pin between her teeth. "Haven't been here for a week and I'm already fighting for my right to stay. What the actual hell is wrong with this school. ONE teacher has a stick up her rump - and that's it - kiss the casual life goodbye. Talk about drama."

It's not so bad, Amy. A voice said. No, not 'a' voice, 'the voice.' The same sweet voice of reason that came buzzing every time she had a qualm about something. Right in the cracks of her brain. Like the best of involuntary voices that appear in one's head, there was no running or hiding from it. Ready or not here it comes. You could be making a huge difference.

"Or I could be making a huge mess." she muttered, placing the last tack in, "If there really is a God out there, let no one find out this is me. They'll just sign the thing and move on."

Two more. She had two more posters to hang up. One in the third year hallway, and one in the cafeteria. And sure, she hadn't gotten the student council's permission to hang them, but Ms. Chono had in some sense told her to do it. Sort of. Technicalities and all that.

Outside the window, birds were chirping. Their songs filled with warmth and the sunlight streaked down the hallways. Some birds were nestled in the courtyard, mounting trees and bushes as stages. Dropping their little white poops over any student who was unlucky enough to walk by, and letting germ infested molted feathers blow through the windows to start spreading disease. It was going to be one of those magical days.

Amy was starting to gather her belongings up when she heard painfully familiar voices (not from her head) babbling down the hallway. The last couple of posters began to unroll. Her fumbling hands didn't help, as she rolled one up the other would fall to the floor and come undone. Picking up both unkempt posters, and her school case didn't work either. All it did was lead to tripping over her school case and landing on her face, losing (of course) another poster in the process.

The voices were too close now, just a corner away. So Amy did the one thing she did best, she cursed and scrambled into the mostly empty classroom nearby. A few students were in it, already studying despite classes not beginning for another thirty minutes. But that was nothing a quick glare could take care of.

"Come on Joey, walk straight will ya. I'm not a bumper car." It was Tristan. She could identify that gruff grumble even through the crack in the door.

Joey groaned back, "I was at Yug's all night training."

"...Training?" Téa questioned, unimpressed.

"Duel Monsters," Yugi clarified with a laugh, "Grandpa's teaching Joey to be a better Duel Monsters competitor. He gave him a huge lecture yesterday about card effects and strategy. They haven't even started dueling."

"I bet he's still terrible thoug- hey! Enough drooling on my blazer."

Yugi laughed again. Then his shoes came to a sudden squeak. In fact, the sound of walking ceased altogether. Causing Amy to groan and slide her forehead, defeated, against the classroom door. "That's it." she mouthed at the ceiling, "I'm becoming an atheist."

She could hear Yugi picking up one of the posters, and the soft crinkle of smoothing it out. "What's this? 'Start the rule revision?'" She could only imagine he was reading the one on the floor, then the one pinned to the corkboard, before rolling the first one up.

"Oh hey," Joey must be getting up close to inspect the [4filter] thing, his nose once again getting pressed into someone else's business. "I saw one`a these at the entrance too."

"I thought you were sleepwalking."

"Shuttup Tristan!"

Téa was next, only this time it was followed by the sound of a clicking pen. "It looks like a petition to lighten the school rules. I wonder if it's for jobs too, not just hobbies. I'd totally sign up for that."

"Heck ya! I'm sign`in right now. It's about time we should be able to play Duel Monsters without hiding it."

One would think that the scratching on the wall would make Amy happy. One would be wrong. While her grand petition was receiving attention, why did it have to be those guys? Why was it always those guys? As if no matter where she looked, no matter where she turned, there they were. Yugi and friends around every corner.

Speaking of Yugi, Amy heard another scribble after that. Unlike Joey who signed his name with rapid strokes, Yugi seemed to take his time. Or, at least she assumed it was Yugi, considering he followed up with, "Yeah… it would be nice. It would be fun if we could make a club out of it, together, and play all kinds of games. They're so strict with clubs... I heard they wouldn't even allow a chess club..."

"I dunno about any clubs, but I'll give it a go," Tristan said, the tips of his crude strokes coming next, "I think students should be free to date."

"And this is for allowing us to have part-time jobs without sneaking around." Téa's strokes were elegant, professional. Amy couldn't feel the wall vibrate like it had when Tristan signed.

The sound of a pen being clicked back into place burned through the crack in the door. Although the banter didn't stop. Not with Tristan wondering about who was starting the Rule Revision, not with Yugi commenting on it being someone anonymous, and not with Joey's cheer. But it was around that time that Amy thought, perhaps she shouldn't quit on her vague, uneducated, and extremely casual religion quite yet.

Although that lovely sentiment wouldn't last long. It became apparent, as the day went on that the posters created quite a stir. A few blank lines on a paper started as small talk, then small talk became gossip, and gossip became a bubbling, infectious nightmare. All in the course of less than six hours.

Despite not knowing who was responsible, by lunch the mysterious figure had a name. The "Revisionizer," as if it was some superhero. Or villain. Even Amy got to the point of being disgusted and confused, cringing at the absolute dramatics of the outcry, while once or twice even questioning the memory of putting the posters up.

The Revisionizer was a rebel; he wanted to take back his school. The Revisionizer was a social warrior fighting for the students well-deserved rights. The Revisionizer was a brave and heroic student putting his school life at risk for the sake of those around him.

The Revisionizer was a slacker; he just wanted an excuse not to work. The Revisionizer was a womanizer; he just wanted to lighten the rules so he could date a bunch of girls. The Revisionizer was a crybaby who couldn't handle getting into trouble. The Revisionizer was an attention whore pining for scraps.

Almost everyone was suspect. From the most handsome of third years to the scared looking first years. Anyone caught standing in front of the poster created an allure of suspicion.

One second-year proclaimed it to be him in front of the entire hallway. It earned a big kiss from the girl he confessed to a day ago, and like a hero was crowded around by all her friends. Although that crowd vanished when pressured and harassed by his English teacher to read aloud from War and Peace for thirty minutes straight, he finally admitted the truth.

A self-proclaimed little "fortune telling" creep claimed he foretold these events would come to pass. If any of the girls in school wanted a "mystic answer" of what would happen if they signed the petition, they should come see him immediately. God forbid anyone misses his "public divining" of the Revisionizer's identity.

Some senior who sung awful karaoke wrote a song about the casualties of the Rule Revision. The silmy [4filter] tried to sell Amy a ticket to his performance before he was caught by one of the teachers. Because, surprise, karaoke parties after school were against the rules.

Even as Amy stood in the cafeteria line trying to shove her way into getting any of the good ramen, someone somewhere was whispering about the myth of the mysterious Revisionizer. Some girls snickered, some snorted, and some told bright eyed stories of the rule revolution. Some boys nodded, some sneered, and some shrugged. But what none of them did was sign the [4filter] paper.

Which is what left Amy pausing in front of the pinup board, staring listlessly at the poster. Joey Wheeler, Tèa Gardner, Yugi Muto, and Tristan Taylor. Then a handful of unfamiliar names below them - Corrine Casterwill, Christine Wilson, Keiko Tamori, Yukari Kurihara - that despite their unfamiliarity she felt a strange kinship to. Not that she dwelled on these names for long. Because below the names was where it got REALLY juicy. Underneath that was big, thick strokes that read NO REVISION. Over the rest of the poster, we're similar strokes, all in different colored marker. I DO NOT SUPPORT THE RULE REVISION. GAMES ARE DISTRACTING. STOP TRYING TO GET YOUR FELLOW STUDENTS IN TROUBLE. REAL LEADERS DON'T HIDE. And Amy's personal favorite, I WAS TARGETED BY THE TEACHERS FOR SUPPORTING THE REVISION.

"I… I hate them." Gods she had such dry mouth right now. "All of them. Signing, not signing, I don't care. I hate them. They're all so - agh - it's a friggin petition for christ's sake, not a juicy Burn Book. You'd think I was dishing out pages of secrets and lies of everyone in the school. How did this even - Why did - what the actual [4filter] is wrong with this place." Amy felt like she wanted to be angry. She SHOULD be angry. Then why couldn't she pick up her jaws or her shoulders? Both just hung.

Just like that, there was Joey, going, "Harassment?" peering at the poster.

"Stupidity," Amy said. Gods she even wanted to be surprised, shocked, or even frustrated at the fact that everyone had appeared out of nowhere. "Hello, Airhead. Jeckyll. Meathead. Goose. Sport." The gang just glanced at each other trying to decipher whatever code she was referring to.

"It's a real shame that they're giving the Rule Revision such a hard time." Ryo said, signing his name below the engaging graffiti, "I think it's a great idea."

And of course, Joey flared his nostrils, "If I caught the punks I'd give them a piece of Joey Wheeler. The good old fashion way."

"What, you're not going to duel the bad out of them."

Whoops. Not the best time for Amy to shoot her mouth off. Joey's unimpressed frown made that clear. "I don't get what your issue is. Ya hate dueling, but you have a deck. Ya don't support the Revision, but you're oglin' in front of poster anyways."

"I'm not ogling."

"Did`ja sign it?"

"No."

"So you're oglin`?"

"No."

"Joey," Yugi lightly cut in, "it's okay if she doesn't want to get involved. A lot of students don't. There are rumors going around that some of the others who've signed are being given a hard time."

Where Yugi's encouragement was light and fluffy, filled with compassionate reasoning, his group was mixed. Selective Meat-Headed members had grown more skeptical. "If the Revisionizer would bother to come out of hiding than people wouldn't have to keep taking the wrap for him."

"Or her, but you've got a point, Tristan. I wish I knew who put up the posters. It would be easier to support them if we knew who we were supporting." Téa added.

"I'm not afraid of the rumors, or the teachers. Will you just give me the [4filter] pen." she sighed. It earned her a few mixed glances before Ryo plopped it in between her fingers. Amy's strokes were slow, wobbly, the individual ticks of where she pressed the pen down echoing on the wall.

She seemed to fold her arms around her school case, lethargically dropping the pen. Poor Ryo had to frantically fumble to catch it, before sighing in relief that he did. The young, tri-colored teenager frowned, watching her lean on the wall, following it back to their classroom.

His friends had their eyes in the same direction. Ryo with both hands rolling his pen back and forth, and Tristan with a shrug. Téa said, "Is it just me or does she seem sorta down."

Unease settled in the heaviest pit of Yugi's stomach, "Maybe she's taking this more serious than we thought." The door down the hall slammed shut but was soon lost in the chattering of other students returning to their classes. He sucked in his lips, opposite of Téa who was puckering them in thought.

They followed the crowd to the classroom, where Amy was already reading the textbook. Tristan shrugged at the group, suggesting that it wasn't their problem and went back to his seat. One by one the others followed until finally, Yugi pulled his chair out. Even as the English teacher entered and passed back their essays, Yugi couldn't help but glance back at the dull gleam in her eyes.

That face didn't linger for long, Amy's expression went gone from exhaustion to boredom as the afternoon progressed. Her once slumped shoulders became active as she tried to make her paper thin workbook stand up on its side. Tristan mouthed 'Told you.' to his friends. Ryo nodded back at that, satisfied with her moody improvement, and Téa shrugged.

But that grim feeling arose again when the final bell rang, students piling on top of each other to get home. The gossip was once again endless, but this time not about the Rule Revision. Instead, homework, nightly activities, clubs and secret romantic rendezvous had taken its place. Yugi went to glance at Amy's desk, where she sat, packing up her books. Then her desk was empty, a couple of guys passing between their view of each other. In the few second it took for them to walk by, Amy was gone.

"I… I have a bad feeling about this, guys." Yugi confided in his friends, his hands going straight to his puzzle. It took both palms to hold the golden… Millennium Puzzle, but still the metal felt smooth and comfortable against his palm. Not at all as awkward as one would think. Just shifting his hands around the corners focused his thoughts.

Tristan grumbled, folding up his homework in half and shoving in between his books. The amount he towered over Yugi used to be intimidating when they weren't friends, but now being eye level with the top button of Tristan's blazer seemed natural. "Why are you so concerned with this chick, Yug? Ever think that she's been bad news ever since she got here."

They walked past the cork board, and Ryo froze. Yugi had to double take, but he also stopped. The Rule Revision poster was gone. Ripped from its place, the thumbtacks still housing little bits of the paper. Joey lifted a tack and looked at the speck. "That can't be good."

A familiar growl wove through the open window as if it was a line of music flowing straight into their ears. "What the [4filter] do you punks want?" Téa dove towards the window, clutching onto the edges of the frame. Down in the courtyard, the tiny top of Amy's head could be seen, three other heads advancing in her direction.

"We've got trouble."

'Trouble' wasn't exactly an overstatement here. There was trouble brewing alright, but not in the form of an Albino, Meathead, Airhead, or overly optimistic Mother Goose. Instead, it took the form a foreign Ankle Biter and couple of overcompensating [4filter]. "What the [4filter] do you punks want." Amy glared, her lower jaw tightening.

The three boys staring her down looked to be, by their hefty builds alone, third years. The one on the right appeared to be a flunky, his shoulders leaning in and a hunch in his back. His uniform was aged more than the others, unkept and unclean, and his hair seemed to be handled with similar care. This guy clearly took great pains in the mirror every morning.

The second one looked like a token [4filter]. His nose was broad and crooked, and uniform ragged with a rip here and there. He clicked his shoes when he walked as if that made him looked "scary." As terrifying as a baby [4filter] bird. If anything, he was more ugly than scary. One snaggly tooth in his hideous grin didn't help his serotyping.

Finally, the middle student looked like the wimpiest of them all with his hair flopped over his face. He didn't seem so much angry as he did troubled, appearing awkward compared to his friends - as if the aggravated assault wasn't so much as a hobby as it was something he had been roped into. The strained snarl on his lips looked so forced that it almost distracted Amy from the fun levels of irritation bubbling up in her midsection. Although he tried to keep his knees bent and ready to spring, they sort of knocked together.

The wimpy looking kid clutched the rolled up poster in his arms. Black marker could be seen on the edges, even from this distance. He unrolled the paper and started reading off the names. "Amy Merced? That's you, right second year?"

"And?" she growled. Amy held her school case close to her chest. She steadied her footing and turned her best, most picture perfect side towards the goon. A dry smell of dust floated in the air, stale, stagnant and suffocating.

"People like you that signed the Rule Revision are making the rest of us look bad."

"Causing the rest of us trouble."

"Yeah."

"Alright Moe, Larry, Curly, finish your thought already or get the [4filter] out of my way."

Wimpy kid - otherwise known as Curly in this reference - flipped the graffitied poster to face her. Larry the token [4filter] took out a black marker from his unbuttoned blazer pocket and tossed it. It rolled, stopping only at the tip of Amy's shoe. "We think you should scratch your name off the list. Ya hear?"

"No."

'No' in this context can represent many things. It can mean, 'No, I won't cross my name out with a black marker, white marker, or any color under the [4filter] rainbow' or 'No, the revision isn't making you look bad, you morons.' It could mean 'No, I won't even begin to consider silencing my support.' Maybe it just means 'No, I'm not listening to your nonsensical babble and don't hear you.'

But most likely, when Amy said 'No' she meant all of the above.

The sensation of dirt moved from her nostrils to her mouth. It tasted as stale as it smelled, gritty on her tongue and teeth. She kicked the marker back in their direction, adding to the cloud.

"There's nothing wrong with the rules, and you know it. This is just someone's sorry excuse to get attention." Moe commented. The three went from walking in a straight line to slowly separating in a curved formation. Amy eye their patterns. The hair flopped in front of Curly's face must throw off his depth perception, because he was breaking formation by a few feet.

She also began to move with the circle, keeping her eyes on that spot, "There's plenty wrong with the rules, and you know it."

Behind them, the school doors opened. The boys looked up. Amy didn't. An opportunity was waving itself in her face, and she'd be damned if Tristan's voice calling, "These punks giving you trouble Amy?" took that away.

There are a variety of ways she could have answered this rhetorical question, if not for the situation's time restraints. Included but not limited to, "Nah, don't we look like buddies?", "My [4filter] heroes", "No [4filter] Sherlock" and "Welcome to the party Meathead." Instead, she said nothing and made a mad dash straight for the gap. One the Stooges retorted, but the words were lost in the sound of her heartbeat, thumping bump bump bump in her eardrums.

That view quickly turned sidewards. Curly tackled her, and the two went tumbling to the ground.

At nearly the same time, Joey and Tristan sprung into action. Téa and Ryo made a good effort in their own special ways, each telling declaring that violence wasn't necessary, though the blond and brunette hardly listened. Joey made the first grab for Moe and Tristan cornered Larry. To which neither stooge flinched. Instead, they smiled wide, eyes exchanging unspoken messages. One even held out his hand and gestured Joey forward, as if to say try me, I dare you.

Meanwhile, as Amy tumbled to the ground, so did her school case. It flew out from under her arms and rolled across the dirt. Amy barely had time to rub her throbbing head before Curley made a brief, betraying, bit of eye contact. She knew where he was going. He knew she knew. They both made a lunge for the case.

Amy clung to one side. Unfortunately, so did Curley, pulling at the top of it. Gods she wanted to kick him. One hard one on the jawline and then we'd see who'd still be holding the case. If not for Ryo trotting over and frantically begging her not to do anything irrational [including, but not limited to kicking], she would have. Hell, she would have punched Ryo too just for good measure.

The two pulled at opposing slides, drowning out the slow ripping sound coming from between them. It got louder and louder until it evolved into an even worse noise. The case lock's snapped in half. Curley's momentum threw him when the top lock broke, not that Amy's victory mattered. The boys got what they wanted.

By now a crowd of students on their way home stopped to watch the spectacle. Their looming bodies formed a ring, trapping the scuttle with its thick fleshy wall. So when her other four RULE REVISION posters, each as thick with graffitied statements as the next, rolled out of her bag and onto the ground fervent whispers began. Some gasps.

Even Joey paused - his fist in the air where he was about to lay an ol` fashion punch across Moe's portrait, and Téa standing between Tristan and the token [4filter]. Silence. Looming painful silence. Again. Just like before, the whole stupid [4filter] [4filter] siltation that got Amy in this position in the first place.

"Amy… you're the Revisionizer?" Joey 'Captain Obvious' Wheeler put the kid down, who brushed the wrinkles out of his shirt with a way too cocky grin.

The girl didn't say anything but started gathering up her fallen posters. She didn't need too. Enough excited chatter erupted around her that even if she wanted to say something, it'd be lost. The many that didn't know Amy wanted to know who she was and those who did were happy to describe.

Amy, cradling the posters against her body, honed away from in all. What caught her stone-faced attention was the most unexpected of things. Bird [4filter] stuck to the ground near her. White, blobby dried up poo. As if she wasn't surrounded by enough squawking (featherless) bird already. Birds in skirts and blazers, with their beaks screeching up in their air, devouring the same regurgitated [4filter] they've eaten for the last ten hours.

The poster's stupid glossy surface stuck to her skin, glued there by her uncomfortable nervous sweat. Gloss that should feel cool and smooth was instead rough against her neck. Amy's mind, not unlike the posters, became one message scribbled over with a plethora of thoughts. So many it was difficult to tell which ones belonged to her, and which ones belonged to the crowd.

A soft voice - the soft voice - crept up again, becoming stronger than all of them. Surrounding Amy, as if the words were arms wrapping around her, patting her head. Shhhhh. It sounded as if it was everywhere, bouncing off of the other students and tossing their noisy static away. It's not as bad as it seems. Wait. Help is coming.

"The Revisionizer couldn't get anyone to sign so she had to make her friends do all the signatures." the wimpy thug had to swallow hard to get words out of this throat. Public speaking and theater, definitely something to cross off his list of careers, "How pathetic."

"She didn't even sign until this afternoon, I saw it."

"You were just gonna hide behind while everyone who signed suffered."

"That isn't cool."

"I got harassed for just talking about it, but I bet you haven't said a word."

The group of students, already so crowded they had their elbows in each other's ribs, somehow found it within themselves to squeeze in even further. Fists in each other cheeks and armpits in their noses, they drifted towards the center with more expressive gestures.

"What do you need to change the rules for, you just got here."

"Whoo! Fight the power new kid!"

"Don't make unnecessary problems just because you don't like them."

"Aw lay off her, will ya`. She's right, these rules [4filter]."

"It's even not your school! It's our school."

The crowd fussed, now arguing with each other as much as her. Amy put a foot out and pushed up. She took a long breath in. While she did, someone stepped out of the crowd. He didn't squeeze through the tiny gaps. He didn't need to. The commanding aura of his presence enticed students to move out of his way.

His arm cut off the gap between Amy and the wimpy bully. Even though she knew him, she knew his shape, his hair, his voice, the girl's brain had trouble processing who it was. "Perhaps it took an outsider to see what the rest of us couldn't."

"Yeah, and who are you wise guy?" one of the boys snarled.

"Yugi…? What the hell are you doing?" Amy whispered, "You're going to get eaten alive up here."

To that, Yugi actually smirked. In the few days she'd know him, he'd never smirked. Smiled, yes, but never like this. This was smug, conceited, confident, in a position, nonetheless, where he had nothing to be conceded about. It was the face of someone who had just won, even before the game began. "Just someone who doesn't like cowards."

"We're not cowards."

"Yeah, can't you see we're just making a point here?"

"All I see," Yugi emphasized every word, his voice deeper, louder than normal, "is three people ganging up on one. That sounds cowardice to me." Once again the tides in the crowd had changed. Yelling silenced, whispers stopped, "If you've got a point, you should make it in a way that's fair… like a game of Duel Monsters."

"Yugi," Amy whispered again, only this time with a growl. "what the hell are you doing."

"Why would we agree to something like that?"

"What a dumb idea, we can just settle this right here."

"Yeah!"

Yugi lifted an eyebrow, "Oh? Are you scared then? Afraid everyone will see how weak you really are without your leverage." It was their turn to be aware of the dozens of eyes looming over the scene, fresh whispers already setting it. New information from the crowd. Names, classroom numbers, history, all these details were already starting to bubble and spread. It wouldn't be long before the entire school knew who the cowardly bullies were.

If one peered really closely into the hunchbacked leaders face, they would see the slow shift of his eyes across the crowd. If one looked even closer, they'd see the tiny beads of sweat forming in his glands. But if one didn't look close at all, they'd still only see his tough, stony face. "I'm not scared of anything, definitely not of a puny kid and a noisy foreigner. And if it means I gotta accept your stupid challenge, then fine!" the leader and his unhappy snaggletooth answered finally.

Yugi stepped aside, putting Amy's shocked face back into their eyeline, "It's not me you're going to be dueling, your fight is with her."

"Same difference. Tomorrow after school, room 2-B. Be there." Moe seemed to be giving his partner some visual SOS, his eyes now switch from one to another, hinting for them to abort. Whistles and oohs came from the crowd and continued as the boys pushed their way through.

In the doorway, a flash of red hair, puckered lips, and high heels turned back inside. Only for a brief second was the woman's unhappy look on display. Any longer and her beauty mark would have looked so sour. The woman's shadow was soon lost in the mass of dispersing students, chattering excitedly or high fiving, as if she was never there in the first place. Too bad no matter how fast she left, it would never be quick enough to cover of up that stench of good ol' [4filter].

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My Pharoh's Keeper's A Trip Through My Favorite Cartoon was one of my first, if not my first, insert fanfictions when I started on the site. I started reading it before even posting the original Beautiful Items. Sure it does some strange things in the beginning, like switching randomly between actual episode dialogue to LittleKuriboh's abridged dialogue, but I was able to have fun with when it did. I'll always consider it a fun story to sit down and past the time with.

RobynHood3's A Witchy Idea also started out with a strange 'OC' gimmick that I wasn't sure of when I first started reading it. But I persisted and was more than happy that I did. Push through the first few chapters of A Witchy Idea, and you're rewarded with a good story that seems to be becoming more engaging with time. I find it to be very good, and very entertaining, with such a bright future.

LeafeonLover's Something Special was one of my two writing goals fics. I once ranted to poor LeafeonLover on how much I liked it. It has so many good, subtle moments of showing over telling that I've yet to often see on the site - at least in the Yu-Gi-Oh! OC section. Moments that evolved the 'first person narrative' from a literary style to Keiko's own narrative. Small details in the way she saw the world, versus the way the audience knows it. It was like we were, in fact, reading from the mind of a teenager, rather than just a narrative.

theweebologist's My Biggest Fear is just a refreshing read. The wording is a little awkward, but you know I can't really talk because I'm the king of awkward wording, but it's a nice idea. The story tries looks at Season 0 from a different perspective, with less love for Yami's actions and more fear. It's still an OC story, but just seems to try to package itself differently.

If any of these sparked your interest, you could go check them out! I certainly enjoyed reading them!

]]