Title: What is the Difference Between You and Me?
Rating: PG
Fandom: Crossover: Batman & Yu-Gi-Oh!
Characters: Gurimo (Yu-Gi-Oh!), the Riddler (Batman)
Summary: There were times, rare times, that Gurimo questioned Master Dartz and now was one of those times.
Word Count: 1,130
Author's Note: When I wrote this I pictured the Batman: Arkham City version of the Riddler. So it's that canon-verse of Batman and not the cartoon version. Because I'm going to be honest here: I don't like the Batman version of the Riddler. He's just… no. I don't like that version of him at all.
Can anyone answer the riddle that I used for this title (without looking it up)? Kudos to you if you can! :)
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Batman and Yu-Gi-Oh! do not belong to me; I'm merely borrowing certain characters for this crack!fic, that is all.

o6: What is the Difference Between You and Me?

… Maybe he should simply just retire.

How had he gotten himself into this situation in the first place? … Besides the main and obvious one, that is.

Gurimo's eyes tried their best to focus as he carefully sat up from the dirty floor. The back of his head throbbed in pain and, after he gingerly touched the agonizing spot, it took him a second to register that the sticky substance on his fingers were red and a second longer to realize that it was blood.

His blood, to be precise.

This… wasn't good. How did—what happened? He tried to remember how he ended up in this bizarre situation and yet was unable to do so yet.

"And finally our challenger has awakened! Good, good. About time, too; I was beginning to wonder if the hired help hit you a little too hard on the head there."

"W-What…? W-Who's there?" Gurimo quickly rose to his feet, only to stumble backwards, as he tried to locate the owner of the voice. If only he wasn't so sluggish at the moment; he would have been able to think straight and realize that the voice came from a speaker from within the small, dark room.

"But now you're only problem is worrying about that bump to your head will affect your performance."

"Show yourself!"

A small, amused chuckle, then, "You are in no position to make demands. In fact, you should be grateful that I brought you here. After all, word on the street is that you demand an audience with all us villains and therefore you should feel honored that I'm taking time out of my busy schedule to let you entertain me. Now then, shall we start off with a simple riddle?"

All Gurimo could do was splutter.

"Riddle me this! Why wasn't Bertha put in jail after killing dozens of people? "

"W-What kind of nonsense is this?" His focus wasn't as muddy as it had been when he first awoke and he was beginning to remember bits and pieces of what happened. He returned to his motel room yesterday only to find it strange how the lights wouldn't turn on and then there was a noise behind in and a sharp, shooting pain and then… nothing. That was it. "Tell me who you are! Or better yet, why don't you show yourself?"

"Tsk, tsk. Didn't I just say that you are in no position to make any kinds of demands here? Now, stop stalling and answer the riddle."

"I will not!"

"Mm, I take it that your IQ is below the norm? No matter. I'm not surprised. After all, no one is as brilliant as I am."

"WHAT?" Gurimo couldn't believe what he was hearing. Did this man (it had to be a male due to the pitch of the voice) just insult his intelligence? Who did this punk think he was? Ooh, he would show him. "You want me to answer your stupid riddle and play your game? Fine then! But know this; it will be you who will wish that you never messed with me! For once I've captured your soul, it will be offered to—"

"Blah, blah, blah – if you really know the answer to the riddle, you wouldn't be stalling still."

"…" Twitch. "… The answer to your ridiculous riddle is that she's a hurricane."

Another chuckle of amusement and then, "… Nice try. But the answer is Bertha used the insanity plea. She was placed in an asylum instead."

"That's not the answer!" Gurimo practically roared.

"So says you. But you forget an important fact: it is I who asks the riddles. It is I who knows all the answers. It is I that is your superior of intellect. And it is I who holds your life in my hands."

If Valon wasn't going to be the cause of his death then surely this man would be. And worse, Gurimo didn't know this man's identity. He thought back to what he said, about how he heard on the streets how he was looking for these rogues, but failed to come up with anything significant enough to help him figure out the man's identity. These madmen all came up with aliases to use and—Gurimo gave an inaudible sigh. Perhaps he should start doing a better background check.

"Why, listen here, you—"

"Tell you what? I normally am not this generous, but I shall give you another riddle to try and answer. Get it correct, I'll let you go. Get it wrong, well… I doubt I have to tell you what will happen in that case."

… What choice did he have? By the looks of things, the only door in the room he was locked in could only be opened from the outside. And, though it was clear this person was a madman, he had no choice but to play by his rules.

"… Fine, what's this riddle?"

"Riddle me this. Dreaming of apples on a wall and dreaming often dear, you dreamed that if you counted them all, how many apples would appear?"

"Ten. The answer is ten."

"Wrong! The answer is none because that's just it. You're daydreaming—"

"Uh, Mr. Nygma…?"

"WHAT? CAN'T YOU SEE I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMETHING, YOU DAFT OAF?"

"B-But sir, I think we have some unwanted company. A few of the men have gone missing and—"

It cut off.

Gurimo ground his teeth together in pure frustration and anger as he waited for the obnoxious man's voice to return but… nothing. There was no clock in the room for him to tell how many minutes had passed yet it felt as if it'd been forever. What exactly was going on? What was happening? … Was he ever going to be let out of this room?

Minutes, which felt like hours to him, ticked on by and still nothing.

He tried to remain calm in order to help his growing headache.

And it wasn't just because of the blow to the head.

Oh, no.

The man's nonsense certainly had helped and, sure enough, it wouldn't be long until it grew into a migraine.

Oh, how positively fun.

Finally, the door opened to reveal two police officers that were staring at him a little strangely. (Not that you could blame them, really.) And after answering a few questions for them, they sent him on his way. But not before he caught a glimpse of a man clad in green with a bowler hat and his accomplice being escorted to the back of a police cruiser.

And so, Gurimo, with a splitting headache, had to explain to Master Dartz why the man, known as Edward Nygma, would not be offered to the great Leviathan.