This will be the last chapter (I ran out of movie). I hope you enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

(1) To the tune of "Always" by Erasure.

(2) To the tune of "We didn't start the fire" by Billy Joel.

(3) To the tune of "American Pie" by Don McLean.

-O-o-O-o-O-

However, all was not quiet backstage. If Tristan had looked up during Yugi's explanation, he would have noticed that the seat next to Noah was empty.

Duke marched into the empty dressing room like he owned the place, and, technically, he did. "Where are the traitors?" He spun around, searching for Téa and Serenity, but they had gone into the hallway to watch and prepare for the finale.

"Looking for someone?" a voice drifted down from the staircase.

Duke turned to the stairs. Yami perched at the top of the railing and leered down at Duke. It might have been a trick of the light, but his usually purple eyes were now blood red.

"Not you." Duke turned to continue his search.

Yami slid down the railing and clamped his hands on Duke's shoulders. "Want to play a game?"

Duke shoved him away. "Suck my dice, Pharaoh."

Yami gasped. "How dare you!"

Duke pimp slapped Yami. Whatever shadow game Yami had planned was eschewed in favor of a knock down, drag out fight.

On stage, Bakura turned to Joey. "Well, you're mine now. Time to say your vows."

Joey stared down the aisle at Tristan's back. He turned and walked away from Bakura. He walked to the edge of the stage and began to sing a cappella:

"I was all right, home free.

My moves were chosen.

Den you alight, near me,

Today, I was frozen."

Tristan turned around. Did this mean what he thought it meant?

Joey continued to sing:

"Trick so old, but I

Fell for it all da same."

The melisma brought a short fit of breathlessness, but he quickly regained his composure and continued:

"You owned all my life

Points, but dere's no shame."

Joey's hidden holographic sensors bathed him in a rainbow aura. Tristan ran to the edge of the stage and burst into the chorus:

"All game, I wanna kiss your neck

And shuffle your whole deck,

And play that card again, card again, oh joy!

All game, I wanna hold your hand.

Rolling bones be damned.

Just play that card again, card again, oh joy!"

The rest of the players came out for the unicorn dance sequence. The complete synthesized orchestra kicked in as Joey and Tristan continued to sing.

"Be you bold, or shy

You're a hero, okay!

Just own the game

Like it's your birthday!"

Holographic sparks shot from the conical shields on Joey's chest. Rainbow strobe lights flooded the stage as the players, including the guards, sang and danced to the chorus.

"All game, I'm gonna win the duel.

And even if I lose,

I'll sing a melody, melody, oh joy!

All game, I wanna play with you,

And even when it's through,

I've got the heart of cards, heart of cards, oh joy!" (1)

Fake limestone tablets went up all over the stage. Pharaoh Bakura threw his hands up in defeat as the music faded out.

"You card-slinging traitors!"

The music stopped abruptly. Everyone turned to see Duke, standing at the edge of the stage. He seemed to be pointing at center stage, but his other four fingers were in an odd, not quite closed position. His hair looked like he took a White Lightning attack full on and he had a couple of bruises, but this didn't seem to bother him. He crept onto the stage as everyone put their hands up and edged away from him.

"Is that what I think it is?" Tristan muttered to Joey.

Joey nodded, horrified. "An invisible gun."

"That's right, my kawaii courty-san." Duke's voice was disturbingly calm. "Take back the ending, or I'll blow your freaking souls out with my Dark Energy bullets."

Yami ran onto the stage. He was just as unkempt as Duke. "Pay no attention to him; he's firing blanks."

Duke aimed the invisible gun at Yami and fired. There was a flash and a bang, but nothing came out.

"This can't be!" Duke fired a few more times. Still no bullets.

In the house, Noah kicked his briefcase under his seat. The Dark Energy bullets rattled softly in their case, but thankfully none of the other spectators heard.

The players gathered onstage. Yami and Bakura pushed Duke into a chair while the players formed a circle around them. To a 4/4 beat, half the players chanted, "Dueling has not expired." The other half chanted, "Ooga chaka, ooga chaka."

Duke glanced around. "This wasn't in the script."

Yugi twirled his Dark Magician staff like a baton and chanted, "I flip my cards back and forth! I flip my cards back and forth!"

"No, seriously, what the hell is going on?" Duke was about to get up when Yami and Bakura loomed over him.

"You can't fight it," Yami started.

"So why even try?" Bakura continued.

"It's already ignited," Yami said.

"Let the sparks fly!" Bakura finished.

The music started with a burst as everyone stopped chanting and Bakura started to sing:

"Dueling has not expired.

Don't you try to smite me; your rich ass can bite me.

Frankly, we're getting tired.

Silence isn't golden, so we're all revolting."

Joey broke from the circle and sang:

"Duelist Kingdom, Battle City, Grand Prix, we're sittin' pretty

'Til da Dice Man cut up all of our cards.

Dominos fell down; dat was just da first round.

After six or seven, it was pretty damn hard."

The music swelled as Kaiba sang:

"Jeopardy's a way of life, roll a die, face your strife.

Play a set, pay your debts, take a chance and place your bets."

Yugi picked up the last lines:

"Life is now a checkerboard, almost fell upon my sword

Throw your cards all on the floor; I declare a gaming war!"

Everyone joined in for the chorus.

"Dueling has not expired.

It'll keep persisting while you keep resisting.

Decks and hearts on fire.

You can try and douse it, might as well espouse it.

Dueling has not expired.

Our decks are burning, but the disks are turning.

Dice games are not required.

It's a different name, but it's the same game." (2)

The music faded out as the curtain dropped.

The audience sat in a shocked silence for a few seconds. Noah looked around, waiting for a mob to form and start throwing things at the stage.

"What did I just watch?" one spectator asked.

"I don't know," another answered.

Noah listened to the crowd's whispers of disbelief and bafflement. He stood up, and started to clap slowly.

"The symbolism…it's beautiful!" he feigned tears. "A perfect metaphor for life under the new system!"

The other audience members looked confused at first then began to applaud.

"If the green-haired hipster says it's art, it must be art!" one spectator cheered.

"True art is nonsensical!" another raved.

"I like it! I have no taste, but I like it!" a third said.

"Hey, they like it!" Clearly, Joey had only heard the first part of that comment.

"We did good," Tristan agreed.

While they peered out at the audience, Duke turned to march over to them. Before he could take two steps, Yami grabbed him by the collar and dragged him into the dressing room.

Duke found himself in another chair. This time, he was strapped in with thick black ropes. Yugi, Téa, and Kaiba watched the scene from the hallway.

"I'm not even into bondage," Duke said, struggling to break free.

"This is no love game," Yami said. "But in your case, it might be."

A mirror dropped down in front of Duke. Yami snapped his fingers and Duke's eyeliner became three-dimensional. The black lines clamped themselves onto Duke's eyelids and held them open.

"I'm going easy on you in this penalty game. You love looking at your reflection, don't you?" Yami asked. "Even you can't resist your own charms. But I've been playing some games of my own, lately. One of them is called, 'Follow the Gaze.'"

"How do you play that?" Duke struggled, in vain, to close his eyes.

"I look at a person's eyes, then estimate their line of sight. Judging by their actions, I determine whether I've won or lost." Yami half-smiled, looking toward the door. "Joey and Tristan often look at each other or whatever food item happens to be around. Téa's line tends to lead to the other dancers when she's not in a number. As for Yugi…" Yami chuckled softly. "He's been looking a lot at the lower back of Kaiba's trench coat."

Duke rolled his eyes as much as possible.

"I'm getting good at it. I can even figure out your line of sight, and I've noticed it never ends above your reflection's nose."

As soon as Yami finished speaking, Duke's eyes were drawn to his reflection's eyes like a magnet. He tried to look away, but the eyeliner clamps seemed to have drilled into his eyeballs and fixed them in place.

"Don't you want to admire yourself properly? How can you do that if you can't look into your own eyes?" Yami continued. "Isn't your soul as pretty as your face?"

Duke's eyes glazed over. He appeared to be hypnotized.

"Tell me. What do you see?" Yami asked. "Do you see the darkness in your soul?"

"No," Duke whispered. "I see…me."

"And what are you?"

Duke leaned forward until his nose was almost against the glass. "I'm beautiful."

Yami's face fell. "What?"

"Since the fall of dueling, I never looked into my own eyes. I was always afraid of what I'd find if I stared too long. But now…" Duke sounded on the verge of tears. "Instead of a vile pit of card game hatred, I see the sexiness of a thousand sun gods." He sniffed. "It's beautiful, man."

Yami's mind went blank. In all his years of playing shadow games, he'd never seen this before. Was this seriously happening? He wasn't supposed to lose at these things. That was Kaiba's department!

"But maybe I can work with this," Yami thought aloud. "Maybe he'll stare at his own reflection for all of eternity. Or, maybe he'll try to romance his own reflection and smother himself with the mirror. Or maybe he'll fall into it—just like Narcissus!"

Duke tore his eyes away from the mirror and sighed. "Even I can't bask in my own glory forever."

"Couldn't you at least try?" Yami asked in a small voice.

"How about this—Mind Crush!" Yugi thrust his hand at Duke.

Duke's three-dimensional eyeliner wilted and fell to the floor. Duke blinked rapidly, but otherwise appeared to be unaffected.

"Step aside, boys, and let a pro show you how it's done." Téa marched over to Duke. "Duke, let me tell you about friendship."

Duke smirked. "Be my guest."

After about ten minutes of lecturing, Téa started to run out of words. "I think I'm going to need some back-up."

Kaiba strode over to Duke, bent over so he was at eye level with Duke, and smiled.

"No. No! Anything but that!" Duke cried as Kaiba's smile widened. "Bring back the mirror! I want to look into my eyes again! Let me play the penalty game!" Dear god, Kaiba's teeth were going to blind him.

Noah walked past the door. "What's going on in here?"

Kaiba turned to him with the smile, giving Duke an all too short reprieve.

"You are so fired when I get out of here!" Duke yelled at him.

"Was going to mutiny anyway. Deuces." Noah walked off again.

Kaiba turned his smile back on Duke, who withered in his seat.

"I surrender," Duke muttered then passed out. Kaiba stopped smiling.

"You didn't kill him, did you?" Téa asked.

"He'll be out for a while." Kaiba massaged his stiff facial muscles.

Unfortunately, the combined effects of Kaiba's close range smile attack and tuberculosis were too much for another cast member.

Joey coughed violently and crumpled to the floor. Tristan rushed to his aid.

"Joey? Joey? What's wrong?"

Joey continued to cough as Tristan tried to help him walk to the couch in the hallway. Blood splattered on Joey's white gown and Tristan's hands. Joey collapsed onto the couch and Tristan ran to the door.

"Somebody get some help!" Tristan screamed. Téa looked up, saw Joey on the couch, and ran to the phone.

Tristan ran back to the couch and knelt next to Joey. "It's gonna be all right, buddy. We're gonna call the hospital and they'll figure out what's wrong."

Joey smiled sadly and shook his head. "It's da end o' da line for me, Tristan."

"Téa's calling them right now. They have stronger medicine," Tristan insisted.

"I got da TB. It's too late." Joey coughed again, then wiped the blood away with his hand.

"No. No. This can't be happening. Not like this." Tristan ran his hands over his hair and tried to compose himself. He clamped his shaking hands down on Joey's shoulders, took a breath, and channeled Téa.

"Listen, Joey. You're gonna get over this. You're gonna live and make lots of babies. Preferably not with Kaiba, and not vampires." Joey chuckled weakly at that line; Tristan tried to smile. "And you're gonna watch them grow up, watch them go off to a fancy school for dueling, and watch them zoom away on their motorcycles, trailing their crazy hair behind them. You're gonna die an old man, safe and warm in your bed. Again, preferably not next to Kaiba, and not in a dog suit." Tristan wiped the corners of his eyes. "But you're not gonna die here, not like this."

Joey eyes watered, but he was determined to take his fate like a man. "I can't feel my butt."

Tristan took a breath and continued, "Writing this play and fighting this duel were the best things to happen to me. They got me into your crazy world of Brooklyn Lust and musical card games. They've made my deck stronger. They've made my voice stronger, thus making me stronger. I can't thank you enough for that." Tristan bit down on his lip. "I don't know how I'll go on without you."

Joey tilted his head up to look Tristan in the eye. "Tristan, Yugi and da othas need you. I was da face of da revolution, but you're da heart. You gotta go on." Joey coughed again, but forced a smile. "I promise I won't come back and haunt ya if dis play bombs. But you gotta promise me that you'll neva let go."

Tristan clasped Joey's hand in both of his. "I'll never let go, Joe. I'll never let go."

Joey let his head fall back. "I just died in your arms tonight."

Tristan figured Joey wouldn't want him to cry. So Tristan tried hard not to.

-O-o-O-

In the streets, the duelists smoked

With crack pipes and with joints.

But there was no buzz in Tristan's mind,

For Joey had zero life points.

The funeral was shortly after opening night. All the duelists attended.

Yugi placed a "Premature Burial" card on Joey's grave. "We'll miss you, Joey."

Serenity cried while Mokuba comforted her. Mai saluted Joey's grave. Kaiba didn't make a single smartass remark that day. Even Rex, Weevil, and Bandit Keith were silent.

The next day, it was back to business. Surprisingly, the play did okay. Sort of.

"An exercise in absurdism," read the sole review in the Domino News (the special cardboard edition), "Awesome Flotsam is meant to mirror the frustration and confusion felt during and after the fall of dueling. Though it reads like an odd fanfiction, it is the main vehicle for the dueling revolution. And what better way to stick it to the man than to pull this out of the air?"

The audience didn't care; they kept coming to the shows. Nobody cared enough to check the handwriting on the submission, or compare the writing style with the script of Awesome Flotsam.

"No publicity is bad publicity," Tristan thought as he read the paper. "They'll never suspect a thing." Fortunately for him and the rest of the crew, more positive reviews followed.

Duke was very dissatisfied with the shows and the revolution, once he got over Kaiba's smile attack. He stormed into the Black Dragon Theater and because his invisible gun was missing, he had no choice but to curse up a blue streak. Among the swears were threats to banish Tristan from Domino, take away everyone's screen time, and force them to open a high school that taught children how to sing while playing dice games.

When Duke finished making his demands, Kaiba jumped off the stage and casually strolled up to him. He grabbed Duke's hand and slapped a wad of cash in it. It was the exact price of the Black Dragon Theater.

"I'm back, bitch." Kaiba's voice practically lilted. Duke took the money and left in a huff.

Later that day, Noah cleaned out his desk at the Duke's manor. On the waist-high shelf behind him was the deed to the Black Dragon Theater. No lights flashed on the surveillance cameras.

Noah lifted his cardboard box onto the chair in front of the shelf. As he turned back to his desk, he let the corner of his jacket brush against the deed, knocking the document into the box. He turned around with an armful of books and hastily piled them on top of the deed.

Yami was still corporeal, and likely would remain so until Duke was ousted. Judging by the way the dice regime was beginning to crack under their pressure, this would happen soon.

Months later, Tristan sat in front of his typewriter, trying to write the sequel. He'd start on a plot, only to scrap it within two pages. Or he'd start a character sketch, only to realize he knew absolutely nothing about the character's motives and back-story. Or worse, he'd write some jokes, hoping to use them later. But when he reread them, it was clear they were only funny in his head. Most of the time, the writing wasn't even bad; it just wasn't as compelling as the first play—and sometimes he questioned the quality of that.

After a few days, he had enough rejected pages to wallpaper his apartment. At least they provided insulation from the cold.

One day, Tristan sat up in bed and gazed across the alley. Through the adjacent building's window, he saw Serenity let Mokuba in. Mokuba put his keytar on the coffee table and took out some sheets of paper. Serenity read along while Mokuba played.

Above him, he could hear Yugi and Yami walking into their living room. One of them walked to the door and opened it, and he could hear Téa's greeting.

Kaiba was probably alone in his apartment, but he'd be in Yugi's later. Bakura, Noah, and Mai were most likely at the nearby theater.

"The players are here," Tristan thought. "Except for one."

Tristan picked up his makeshift "Monster Reborn" card and went onto the fire escape. He flicked the card against the windowsill while he tried to think of a new dueling-based concept. He could have sworn he heard a Brooklyn-accented voice sing, "Don't cry for me, Duelist Kingdom."

Bandit Keith's song from the nearby bar broke his concentration:

"Oh, please, please, end the dice game disease.

Give 'em trouble, make it double, bring 'em down to their knees.

And we're drunk on rye and messed up on weed,

Singing, this'll be the death of me,

This'll be the death of me…" (3)

Tristan sat back down. He was going to write the story of the Dark Magician and Priest Seahorse's child, the new Pharaoh. Perhaps he'd attend a school and learn to control magical limestone tablets.

That would inspire the rise of the New Domino, right?

-O-o-O-o-O-