MM: After botching my efforts at driver's ed, I have decided that Marik and Bakura should not be able to drive.
Bakura: What is this soul-devouring madness! I shall DRIVE!
Marik: DRRRRIVE? What's that? Oh yeah…I think that's what I was taught to never do on my motorcycle. "Don't drink and drive," right? Yeah. That's why I always drink before getting on my motorcycle. pulls out bottle of powdered milk. Uh-oh, I forgot to add the water…
Bakura: Marik, we should kidnap MM so she can't torture us any longer.
Marik: SURE! Let's kidnap our kidnappers!
MM, wide-eyed: Let's run while fleeing: Remember, we don't own Yugi-Oh or our current captives turned jailers or—struggles in black bag MMMMMFFFFFF!
Yami looks away and continues gelling hair: Anyways, here's the next installment of...Crazy Wedding Vows...who cares...scans script HEY LOOK! I'm in it! Glares menacingly READ IT OR BE PREPARED for the SHADOW REALM!
Session 1: Morning Madness
It was the morning of that sacred day when the dreams of the great Tomb Robber Bakura and the Mutinous Servant Marik are meant to be fulfilled. A cloud sprinted away on swift wings from the burning glare of the gold orb above, allowing this Eye of Ra to glare down at the houses far below it. A crimson roof, an adobe house, stucco walls...
The sun blinked. There seemed to be something stirring in the miniscule white bed in that room yonder. It checked its mental clock: exactly noon. Frowning, the sun shifted toward the west, keeping its fiery eye upon the little creature curled up within the sheets—what a lazy brat...
A curious little sparrow, noting the gaze of the sun, hopped through the open window into the house. Tilting its head to one side in grim curiosity, he snuck up. A white pillow, pale body, and white sheets...Screeching, he fluttered back to his perch on the window sill upon busy wings. Where's the head of this creature?
With a deep groan as if he had been struck by a bull in the ribs, Bakura stirred, his feathery head turning to one side. The sparrow breathed a sigh of relief, letting out a sound much akin to the whistling bellow of a steam engine.
"What the—"
Shooting up and rubbing his eyes, Bakura checked his alarm clock, swore, chucked the said clock at the screeching sparrow, and flew out the door. Dazed for only a moment at the close pass—the alarm clock had missed completely, of course; Bakura's aim was worse than a tadpole's—he opened eyes, and promptly fainted out of disgust at the unclothed albino midget lying upon the ground. It seemed that the said albino had just tripped over his own foot and was screaming at the rug from the carpet burn he had just given himself.
Meanwhile, the sparrow's son was having a somewhat worse experience...
"WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING!"
So saying, Marik squeezed the belly of the little sparrow tighter, sending pearly tears up into the sparrow's eyes. Feathers pooffed out and beak quivering, he wriggled in his captor's grasp. He had just been standing on the alarm clock when Marik reached over, smacked him over the head, and then decided that it was all the sparrow's fault for standing on the clock in the first place.
Bakura peeked into his drawers.
"Attempt number 101!" Still, he couldn't kind his car keys, totally not noticing that the key ring hung from the thumb of his left hand.
Two seconds later, Marik was on his motorcycle, and Bakura had finally managed to tie his belt around his pony tail and pick the lock to his car. Of course, the latter was furiously cursing the sparrow for stealing his keys.
"What the—" he screamed as a huge scratch appeared over the door of his car. He glanced down at the car keys hanging from his thumb, then at the scratch. A malignant glint grew in his eyes, a raging fire from the Shadow Realm flickering through his hard rust-colored irises.
"I hate these KEYS!"
Suddenly, he seized the keys, wrapping them in a white-knuckled fist. A line of crimson ran down to his wrist and then his forearm, finally freed from is confinement within the body and now curiously exploring the exterior of its host.
"Damn you!"
Throwing them on the ground, Bakura stomped on them with his bare feet, shaking his white maned head back and forth and up and down as if it was being dragged around by a rabid dog by the ponytail. Suddenly, he ran forward, wired the car, and drove off with a screech that sent the sparrow family under his pillow shooting out into the cerulean, bejeweled sky, twittering a mournful augury.
Yep. That spider in Bakura's pants yesterday had really gotten to him. In fact, that is why he had to leave Mystic Muses' story; he had to go to the hospital to have the spider extracted because it was crawling dangerously fast along his belt.
Bakura didn't like driving. He had just gotten this car yesterday, and had no idea what in the world a license is. Fortunately, his foot found the gas pedal, and he found himself shooting out of the driveway and into the first tree that appeared across the street.
"Darn it!" He suddenly paled, trying to remember what he had just said. "Was I just being polite? I mean, damn it!"
He fiddled with the little stick to his right that had small transparent letters labeled "P," "R," "D," and "1," and "2." Flooring the gas pedal, he twirled the wheel to the right in attempt to turn right and avoid crashing into his house with its precious sparrow nest. Unfortunately, he didn't know that in reverse, everything appeared backwards.
SMASH.
"DAMN IT!"
Roaring, Bakura dragged the rear of his car out of his bedroom and rushed out to the crying sparrows now wriggling in their dislocated nest.
"NOOOOOO! MY PRECIOUS!"
Unfortunately, his attempt at attention sent all sparrows within a 2 mile radius of the vicinity scurrying off toward the puffy, fleeing clouds.
30 minutes later
"HAHA! I HAVE POWER!"
Gunning the engine, Bakura sped out of his driveway, ignoring the row of two dozen flattened trees across the road and the fact that his house no longer existed. And the facts that his mailbox was sticking out of the hood of his car, that the lid of his trunk lay somewhere beneath the rubble of his garage, and that he no longer had a passenger's side door. Or, for that fact, any rear view mirrors.
Rubbing away the trail of sweat running down his forehead, he floored the gas once again and sped off down the street.
Two seconds, later Bakura's eyes widened as his sweaty palms trembled on the leather steering wheel. The trees flew past him, obviously afraid of his reckless driving, and his own self was driven back into his seat as the car plummeted along the road, as if a giant invisible hand was trying to stop him before any more innocent trees were flattened.
"SUCKS TO YOU, INVISIBLE HAND!"
Practicing his well developed evil laughter, which now sounds something like a kitten's meow, he suddenly remembered what the sales clerk had said to him before he was sent to the Shadow Realm.
"Mr. Bakura, cars are killing machines on four wheels," he had cautioned expertly with wide eyes that lacked any sort of puppy-dog cuteness whatsoever. "Whenever you're not looking, it just might rear up and throw you out and run you over on its own. It cackles at your pain and live off your sweat and blood! Every two seconds, some naïve pedestrian, while dodging these hectic killing machines, are run aground and never see the light of day again!"
Bakura's eyes narrowed. "Never see the light of day again, hmmm? HAHA! I shall be the white haired, ravishing, BEAUTIFUL killer on four wheels!" Just as these words left his lips, there came an earsplitting crash and bam, and the whole back of the car starting from the backseat fell away, leaving the whole vehicle balancing precariously on two wobbling circles.
"SCREW THAT! TWO wheels are before than FOUR!"
Noting the growing number of pedestrians before him, he suddenly realized how powerful he was, controlling this two-wheeled killing machine made of 2 tons of metal and rubber while those puny Mortals out there had nothing more than skin, cloth and bone. Megalomania seizing his wonderfully crafty brain, he shot forward on his remaining wheels, sending bystanders on the sidewalks scurrying for nonexistent cover.
"HAHA!"
Finally, he did manage to hit a pedestrian. With a thump and a crack, his car fell into two pieces.
"OWWWWWWWIIIEEEEE!" Screaming, he landed on his bum, which now rested upon his flattened tire. The giant football guy that he had run into stared blankly at him. Glaring up at him, Bakura climbed to his feet.
"I KNOW! I HAVE A PLAN! BEWARE THE WRATH OF THE TOMB ROBBER!"
Saying so, he pulled out a giant foam hand with "GO BAKURA!" written in an infant's handwriting across it and threw it at the football player's stomach. Frowning, the prey folded his arms across his chest as people gathered around, blinking blankly at them.
"Okay, Plan B!"
Pulling out a butter knife, he charged at the football player, madly hacking at his hair.
"HA! TAKE THAT! DIE, YOU SURVIVOR! DIE!"
"Are you okay, little girl?" the football player asked, a sympathetic light dawning in his light blue eyes. "Do you need to go to the psychiatrist? I know of a marriage counselor named Dr. Bakura around here. Maybe he can recommend something or some psychiatrist for you."
Frowning, the victim reached up and grabbed Bakura's pony tail, leaving the Tomb Robber dangling in midair with legs and arms flailing like an octopus out of water, the butter knife hacking randomly at thin air.
"Damn, he already thought of that, too!"
"Are you insane?" the jock asked.
"I'm NOT insane, or a girl, Brainy!" screamed the albino monkey. "NO! I HAVE ANOTHER PLAN! PURE GENIUS!"
So saying, he started whacking at his own hair with the butter knife.
"HA! WITHIN THE HOUR, I SHALL BE FREE! AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME!"
Shaking his head in despair, the football player dumped said monkey in the passenger's seat of his Ferrari and drove of in search of the famed "Dr. Bakura" of Marikura Marriage Counselor.
With the sparrow still in one fist, Marik Ishtar sped down the road on his burgundy motorcycle, puking into the paper lunch bag he had balanced at the center of his handlebars.
"Man, this motion sickness. It always comes whenever I ride this bike. Must be because I have that sparrow family living in my backyard. They're always cursing me."
He held up the sparrow to his face and sent the evil eye upon it. The little birdie trembled and squeaked, lifting its feathery shoulders to cushion his vulnerable head. Suddenly, an orange fur ball flew at the sparrow.
"NO! MY BELOVED!"
Moving the sparrow aside, Marik got a mouthful of fur. The next second, the cat lay dead at his feet.
"OH MY DEARIE! YOU KILLED MY ORANGE CAT!" screamed a deranged, senile woman who just happened to have been stalking the cat with a black bag in hand, much like the one used to kidnap the Mystic Muses. She whacked Marik over the head with her cane, took the cat's carcass, stuffed it into the bag, and conked him over the head with the newly made bludgeon.
"It's not my fault!" he shouted, "THE CAT TRIED TO KILL MY SPARROW AND I SAVED MY SPARROW AND THE CAT HIT MY FACE AND I DROVE INTO THE TREE AND THE CAT JUMPED OFF AND THE TREE FELL AND THE TREE FELL ON THE CAT THAT JUMPED OFF AND THE CAT THAT JUMPED OFF GOT KILLED!"
Screaming, he ran at his motorcycle and disappeared in a cloud of exhaust fumes, still puking into the bag that miraculously stayed attached to the handle bars. As the Mystic Muses later discovered and reported in the Domino Gazette after escaping from the black bag with the cat that Marik thought was dead that really wasn't dead, Marik Ishtar's puke bag has been attached to the handle bars of his bike for the last decade by superglue and is actually considered in the Domino Book of Domino Records as the filthiest, most squalor-filled item in all of Domino. The escape of the journalists, by the way, was facilitated by the beaks of two particularly friendly sparrow families.
Anyways, on the road, Marik drove ravishingly, hair flying in the wind beneath a helmet made out of the same tofu that had cost Yami $10. On the way to the Counseling Center, he ran over a spikey haired midget who was shouting something about being Pharaoh and a brunette who was screaming about the essence of friendship. Surprisingly, those same two people turned up at the Counseling Center two seconds after Bakura, who appeared 2 seconds after Marik, being dragged by the ponytail by a big guy from a Ferrari.
"I didn't know that you turned gay, Kura," Marik muttered darkly. "You can be the girl counseling Tea today," he added, worming his way out of that particular hole.
Yami and Tea crashed through the hole in the wall the size of a mammoth made by Bakura in the dent the size of Japan now with a bang, swaying the green leaves of the potted plant that had suffered so much lately. The sunlight retreated in disgust from the streaks of dirt and blood covering the fighting couple.
"I THE PHARAOH DECLARE THAT I LIKE YOUR HOLE-DOOR, MARIK MY LOYAL AND SUFFERING SERVANT WHO SHALL FOREVER GROVEL BEFORE MY STINKY AND BEAUTIFUL FEET! THE HOLE LOOKS LIKE ME AND SHOWS YOUR LOVE AND RESPECT, SLAVE!"
Marik nodded, trying desperately to suppress the pulsing vein in his temple, which beat a rhythm like a giant drum in his brain. Bakura smiled and stood, shaking the hands of his first clients.
"Hello, Yami and Tea, my beloved!" Sweeping a bow, he raised Tea's hand to his lips and kissed it, trying not to choke on the smell of perfumed friendship oozing out from her cuticles, trying to invade his privacy.
"Bakura! My secret boyfriend!" Tea exclaimed, jumping on Bakura and glomping him in an attempt to madden Yami.
Yami blinked blankly. "Hey! You're getting along great with our counselors!" he laughed without a hint of a smolder, ignoring the fact that Bakura was running against the wall in an attempt to bash Tea off his face, snarling like a gorilla tangled in a trap.
Marik patted Yami on the back, inviting him to sit across the desk from himself. "Now, Yami, whilst Bakura is getting…er…acquainted with your crazed wife, we will discuss your issues."
At this moment, Bakura wrestled Tea into her seat, pulled duck tape from a pocket and bond her to her chair until she looked like a silver mummy.
Bakura blinked blankly, sitting next to Marik.
"So, errrr…let's begin!" Marik said, ignoring Bakura's confused look. He nodded to his own wise statement. "Tell us of the start of your marriage…your…errr…wedding vows!"
Yami's eyes grew blank. "Wwweedding vvvvows?"
At this moment, bashed Yami over the head with an unfortunate desk, who was screaming out of pain with little tears running out of its many eyes.
"You DOLT! Unfaithful husband! How can you NOT remember the day that made our lives this wonderful!"
To the counselor's surprise, she was absolutely serious. At this moment, Tea's face grew peachy and dreamy as if she was floating in a kiwi frappe, staring up at heart-shaped clouds with friendship slogans carved across them.
"I can recite them to you! We were up at the altar, all of our friends were there, and I was in a beautiful pink dress festooned with hearts and cherubs and roses and laces, and Yami was in a kilt with 'I AM THE GREAT PHARAOH! WORSHIP ME!' stitched across it in black thread in barely legible format…I think he did it himself because he had no money…but anyways! He had even more gel in his hair than usual, so he looked like a puffer fish…or was it called a blowfish? Anyways, he looked like a doll of a porcupine, and I—"
Bakura's face was already red as a cherry by this time, and the chocolate of his eyes had melted and boiled.
"CAN YOU GET TO THE POINT ALREADY? Errr…thank you! Please," he added, biting his tongue and swallowing the bile rising from his stomach at Tea's words.
"Okay!" Tea chirped. "So I was dressed all beautiful, and Yami was trying his best, and of course I paid for everything, and I still have to pay for everything now, and that's all very unfortunate…"
Bakura's hand crept for the stick labeled "Tea Basher" under his desk that he had bought at an exclusive Tea Hater's store (a billion-dollar industry)…
"SO!" Tea continued, one finger pointing up at eyes closed. "I said 'I hereby promise to forevermore remind you of the importance of friendship and make you sad whenever you're happy by reminding you how good, special, and…and…and (here Tea is unable to come up with a suitable word)…and…uh…IMPORTANT (here she smugly preens herself, thinking this is some terrifically sneaky "big word" that no one else knows) friendship is! And, of course, how lucky he is to have me, the…the…the…bestest friendest person in the world!"
Yami stared, not comprehending. Blinks. "Yeah…" Here Tea glares at him. He blushes deeply. "Of course! The great and TERRIBLE Pharaoh never forgets!"
Bakura smiled wickedly. "Then what did YOU say, dearest king?"
"Errr..errr…" Yami tried not to let on that he had made up a vow on the spot in the absence of a draft, a priest, or any real friends to give him ideas. All those so-called friends that they had invited to their wedding had really been dolls from the psyche ward where Tea had been staying. Besides, their altar had been a plank and their church a sand dune on the Domino beach. "I said… 'Yeah Tea! You do that…and I entertain you with the numerous and never-ending and over exaggerated stories about my ancient past in which I was a mighty conqueror who stalked and killed lions, crocodiles, villages of people who were related to this Tomb Robber that I didn't know named Bakura, and various other menaces each day and was hailed as a glorious general, warrior, Pharaoh, god, and so one and so forth because my stories are so interesting!"
(MM: Um...just out of curiosity, did anyone here bring a shot gun? receives weird looks; Marik jumps on MM and starts bawling What? No, I'm not suicidal...I'm just a compassionate soul here to end our misery...)
"INTERESTING!" Bakura exclaimed, whacking Tea over the head with the Tea Basher. Jumping up, she glomps Bakura again.
"AHHHH! SAVE ME!"
Tea: "OH BAKURA! I LOVE YOUR MANLINESS AND YOUR BASHER! CRACK MY HEAD OPEN! I WILL DIE FOR YOU, KURA!"
Bakura managed to retie Tea as Yami and Marik stared blankly.
"Now Pharaoh," Marik suggested, leaning back in his seat as Tea made kissy noises at Kura, who was suppressing the urge to barf yet again. "The problem is that you and Tea love each other so much that you see only the evil in each other! That's why you have to pay another $2,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000, or something bucks to come for another session to get rid of your love!"
"Yes!" Bakura said, "And to give you an assignment to start preparing for this treatment, I think you should duel me and practice your cheesy good-guy speech skills which Tea is supposed to love! Also you should pay me with the Millennium Puzzle because that'll save your marriage!"
Yami shot to his feet, sending his chair skittering back into the potted plant, which fell over with a thud and a cackling groan, sending the sparrow family there fluttering away and uncovering the hiding spot of the great journalist Mystic Muses.
"YES! I MUST DUEL AND WIN AND PROVE THAT I AM CHEESY AND GREAT AT MAKING SENSELESS SPEECHES AND PRACTICE MY 'OH NO!' 'S AND MY 'IF I LOSE, THE WORLD WILL BE IN DANGER!' SPEECHES!" He whirled around from the potted plant and faced Tea.
"Let's DUEL!"
Tea shot to her feet, too, bursting through the duck tape and sending her chair crashing over onto the spider that had been living in the paper airplane that had crashed into Marik's skull.
"LET'S! I shall WIN and practice my friendship speeches forevermore!"
Leaping through the air, bodies stretched out gorgeously like cheetahs onto their prey, Yami and Tea crashed through the window, sending iridescent crystal shards flying through the air, dangling and shimmering in the golden rays of the sun.
Bakura and Marik gazed blankly at each other. Slowly, Bakura lifted the check for $1 from the Pharaoh.
"Marik! We're RICH!"
Marik nodded, then lifted the check stolen from Kaiba. "Bakura! We're richer!"
With sparrows singing a heavenly tune over their heads, the two counselors waltzed in circles, ignoring Yami's Blue Eyes, which he stole with the check from Kaiba, which was now being chased around by Tea's cackling Kuribo, which she had stolen from Yami.
From far, far away, the football player gazed with a smile at Tea as she defeated Yami and somehow sent him to the Shadow Realm. (But don't worry! He gets back in time for a session two, mainly because MM believes that Marikura should earn more money…)
MM: climbs out of the remainder of Bakura's car haha! Freed at last!
Marik: NOT SO FAST, SMARTY PANTS! grabs MM by the ears THERE! I HAVE YOU AT THE SEAT OF YOUR PANTS!
MM: Those are my ears, dumbo!
Bakura: blinks blankly I thought you two were hiding in the black bag with the cat that you said was dead that wasn't really dead.
Marik: I though you were hiding behind the potted plant in the office with the third enigmatic sparrow family!
MM: Errrrr….uhhh…..THAT IS THE SECRET OF THE GREAT JOURNALIST! Review and recommend and give us suggestions! grabs onto horde of sparrows SPARROWS AWAY!
Marik and Bakura: Stares after MM as she crashes into the moon What's with her and OUR sparrows!