J-Slow

There's a lot of things I do, or am involved in. Most were encouraged by friends, for whatever reasons they had. But sometimes I feel that they are false, or hollow; as though just to impress. I want to justify my participation in these things, but...

Standing at the counter was a young man, looking about eighteen. He had long, free-flowing lilac hair and... was that a school uniform? Yes, it was; one from Domino High, in fact: blue all over except the white collar. Fairly easy to recognise - she knew lots of people who wore them. "Hi there," Ashely welcomed him. "How may I help you?" "Ashely Sketcher, I presume? Joey told me about you. Word was that you started working here, so I thought I'd pop in and say hello." A very English accent, Ashely thought. Hey, is he... "Wait a minute... you must be -" "Ryou Bakura," he introduced himself. "A pleasure to meet you." He smiled and offered

After about an hour, the shop was crammed with duelists of all manner of age and experience; a rabble of duels, trades and tactical discussions. Ashely sat behind the counter, paying very little attention to the shop-filling buzz that ran rampant every week. Her mind was occupied with the duel from earlier: where did those cards come from? And what would happen the next time she dueled James? "s'cuze me miss..." She had already checked her deck twice over; the Pot of Greed and United We Stand cards were not there. "S'cuze me miss." Where'd they come from? And where did they go? And why did they turn up when they did? "S'CUZE ME MISS!"

It scuttled across the floor, and stopped. Time froze. The only thing that continued was the music in my headphones; A Song for the Dead by Queens of the Stone Age. Yet that too stopped as I jammed the stop button on my keyboard, and refixed my glare toward this vile intruder. Mofo spiders, I thought to myself. Why do they always come in here?! I eventually broke my fixation upon the creature and glanced about, looking for something to deal with it. A box. A stick, a shoe; many things would work here. Wait, was that... Yes! A shoe box; perfect! I paused momentarily, then lobbed the box over. Fear froze my heart as I watched the box turn i

... "Hmm... is that it? Have I won?" James taunted, grinning madly. "...guess so," Ashely mouthed. She couldn't believe this guy. What a jerk! Not only had he won without breaking a sweat, but he has to go and rub it in so cruelly! Urghh!! "Nope," he finished. "You still have a chance, albiet not a very large one." Ashely was furious. "That - you - URRRGH!! You're such a jerk! That was so mean!" Indeed! You should be ashamed of yourself! "Chill, it's just a game. A game you can still win, at that." His expression changed; it seemed more sincere now. "Give it your best shot, and see if you can pull through." "Oh, I will," Ashely declare

"Hmpf. Toon Gemini Elf attacks." "Morphing Jar," he proudly announced. "We each discard our hands and draw five cards." "WHAT?! Again?! This is so mean!" She complained. "How can anyone play when they keep losing their hand?" "I can," was his snide reply. James! Don't be rude! James ignored M's outburst and drew his new hand. Not bad, he thought, and wondered what the girl drew. Must be something good, he thought as he noticed the smile on her face. "Anything good?" He breezed. "Not telling," she said. "Wait and see. Now I'll play the spell Monster Reborn, and bring back my Dark Magician that YOU discarded!!" James looked at it; unlike

"Shall I start?" James suggested. "Go right ahead," Ashely replied. "Right." He drew his starting hand. "First, I play Toon Table of Contents-" "Toons? I thought you said Exodia? ...Oh, I'm sorry. Please carry on." "Heh. New build, y'see. Throws people off." He explained. James then reached into his deck and revealed a... Toon Table of Contents. "Another one? How does that work?" An inquisitive Ashely enquired. "I have three," James grinned. "It makes the deck smaller really fast." He repeated the move until the third, which brought him a Toon Cannon Soldier. "Aww, so cute! What's next?" She aired in anticipation. "Now, I'll discard a