Bakura moaned, as he put his hand on his head in pain. "Did I fall asleep?" he said to himself in the quiet house. He was alone. Bakura then saw a broken chair beside him and it came back. He really fell unconcious from breaking it.
"How did it break?" he asked himself. The hit on the head may have caused him to forget. He glanced at his shoes, tied together. He must have tripped on it then, he thought.
"Who tied my shoes?"
A silence came as he looked around for clues. He succeeded in finding a note left by someone.
"Hey, great party, Bakura! Oh, and sorry about the practical joke, the stains on the rug, and the stuff we broke. Well, bye! -Tristan"
"I didn't throw a party...I think."
He reread the note. Stuff? "He broke more than the chair?"
Bakura opened the windows, since it was dark, and horror came upon his face as he saw a house that may as well been in the line of warfire. Not only was the chair broken, so was the table, a wooden bench outside, a few cabinets from looking for things, and the stains the note had talked about.
"Oh, my gosh! How the heck am I supposed to fix this stuff? I don't have any money!"
He sighed and threw himself on the couch. It collapsed and brought a cloud of dust from under it. Bakura was exasperated by now.
"Why can't people throw parties at other houses where people don't care if everything gets broken? Well, it can't really get worse."
And you all know what that means. After he cleaned up most of the wreckage, such as cups, soda cans, a half-eaten sandwich (which he picked up with rubber gloves), and ripped up papers, he set aside the broken furniture to see if they were fixable.
Later, he decided to pick up the mail.
"Bill...bill...coupons...hey, a letter from my parents!" Bakura exclaimed. He sat down on the ground and opened the letter, which he read aloud.
"Dear Bakura,
It's finally summer and we hoped to have some quality time with you. As soon as we get back home in a month, we'll go on a trip, your choice. We hope the house is neat and tidy! And your bedroom, too!
Love, Mom and Dad"
"Oh, no..."
"P.S.- When we said 'in a month', we meant about July fourth."
Bakura sat there, mouth agape. He knew there was absolutely no possible way that he could get everything fixed by that time. So he decided to sleep on it and see if he could think of ways to either earn money or hand-fix it.
When he woke up, he had absolutely no ideas on what to do. He made himself coffee (I don't know, he sounds like a coffee person) and watched the broken pieces of furniture. He was somewhat waiting for them to reassemble back to normal.
He put down his coffee cup and grabbed the chair that KO'd him. He tried to stick the leg back on, but forgot to get glue. He found a half-empty glue bottle, about as big as a water bottle, and attempted to fix it. As he looked at a chair that seemed perfectly fine when he finished putting it together, it crumbled back to its broken shape.
"I can't fix anything. My dad used to be handy at these things, so why aren't I?" he asked himself.
He put the glue back and headed for the phone. He was going to call Tristan and make him pay for what he broke.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Tristan, this is Bakura."
"Oh, hey, buddy? Why'd ya call?"
"Because of...that party you had the other day."
"Oh, yeah! That was awesome! Are you going to throw another?"
"No! I didn't even start that party in the first place!"
"You didn't?"
"No. But that's not the point. All that stuff you broke...I'm going to make you pay for it."
"You can't do that! I'm your friend!"
"I'll..." He tried to think of something threatening. "I'll tell your mother."
"You've always been a tattle-tale, Bakura!"
"Well, who else was there at the party?"
"People from school, Joey, and Duke."
"Then get them to give me the money for the broken stuff too."
"Um, okay. Bye."
After he got off the phone, Bakura sighed.
"He's not going to give me the money, huh?"
After a few days, he got the response from Tristan that nobody would give him money, not even Duke, and Joey was trying to earn some from a summer job. Bakura was worried. His parents would kill him if they knew he threw a party that he dosen't remember, and that all that stuff was broken.
Then he stumbled on the answer, literally. He was in the garage looking for where his dad kept his tools, and he tripped on the door that went into a basement.
"Since when do we have a basement?" He was baffled by his new discovery. In the basement was his dad's workshop, with just about every power tool and a stock of wood.
"This is a very odd coincidence."
"How right you are," another voice said.
Bakura shivered as he turned around to see his darker self.
"I've been hiding here for quite some time, and you just happened to barge in. And the fun part is that I can kill you now."
Bakura knew he was right. "Wait...YOU threw the party!"
"Wow. Did you figure that out all by yourself?"
"This isn't the time to joke around! Why are you here?" Bakura asked sternly.
"Actually, I'm here to help you."
"No, you aren't!"
The graverobber walked around him, Bakura facing him, and picked up a hammer.
"Do I always have to do something bad?"
"As if you could be good!"
"How about a deal then? I'll help you fix all that broken stuff upstairs, what do you say?"
"...What's the catch?"
"What is it with people these days?" the yami muttered to himself. "Alright then, what if I promise to leave?"
"I don't make promises with backstabbers."
"I'm not a backstabber...I prefer stabbing hearts."
"If you don't try to kill me, then I accept the deal."
"Okay, then. I help you fix the chairs and whatever, and then I promise to leave. Good enough."
They shook hands, and as Bakura turned around, he was hit on the head with the handle of the graverobber's hammer.
"Haha! Sucker"
The next day, Bakura was learning how to operate the power tools. It was no easy task.
"You put the wood first! I already told you, first the wood, then you turn it on! It cuts by itself!" the yami shouted aggravatedly.
"I'm sorry! I keep on forgeting!"
"Well, you better not forget, or you'll cut your hand off!"
Bakura exhaled loudly. "Can we move on to another?"
"Alright. The screwdriver."
"Oh, that one's easy."
"No, the electric one." He held it high and pressed the gun-like trigger so it would drill.
"I thought that was a driller."
"Well, you can use drillers like screwdrivers! Here, try putting this in the block of wood."
He handed Bakura a rusty screw. Bakura placed the screw on the wood, put the driller on it, and pulled the trigger. He bent the screw.
"Do you realize how hard it is to bend a screw?"
Bakura chuckled lightly. The driller was still on and it was drilling a hole in the wood.
"Hey, klutz!"
The driller soon went out of control. It was shaking so much, Bakura lost his grip on it and fell to the floor. And the driller was coming right at him.
"Now why didn't I bring my camera?"
The driller just missed Bakura's head and it fell right besides his ear; the loud clatter made Bakura tense. "I'm...still alive..."
"You won't be at this rate. Goodness."
"You!" Bakura screamed. "Why didn't you help me?"
"Nobody asked me," he replied in an innocent voice.
"Very funny. I can't operate the electric ones, so what about the manual ones?"
"Trust me, you should stop now, before you have to get a replacement thumb."
Bakura glared at him.
"Fine, fine. Why don't you do the hammer-and-nail repair? Very old-fashioned."
"Anything easier?"
"Clamp and glue."
"I tried glue. Let's use a hammer and nail, then."
After an hour, Bakura was successful in putting a nail straight into a block of wood. He also got two pieces of wood to stay attatched.
"I see improvement. Unfortunately, you cost yourself a bunch of wood."
"I think we better start building tomorrow. If we don't finish fast enough..."
"What's all this 'we' business?"
"I thought you were going to help."
"Help to teach you how to use the tools, not actually build the stuff. Have fun on your own."
Bakura felt like strangling him, but calmed down. It was already late at night.
Today, Bakura was going to start on the chair. Since he was going to use the original pieces of wood and only replace a few, it would help save some time. But he wasn't as handy as he would have wanted to be.
He tried to put the legs back on, but after struggling for half an hour, he realized he was doing it on the wrong side of the seat.
The back of the chair was even harder to do. He had to replace one of the bars, but didn't seem to get the size right. Meanwhile, the graverobber was treating himself to a juice box.
The noise of sawing was dominating the room. After he was done cutting, Bakura double-checked the measurements.
As he put his ruler one way, a loud slurping broke his concentration.
And again.
And again.
"Stop it! You're torturing me with that stupid noise!" Bakura screamed.
"Who, me?" the yami asked, confused.
"Yes!" Bakura was so fed up that he ripped the juice box out of his hands and threw it on the flor to stomp on it.
"Hey, I was thirsty! Good thing you have, like, a million in your fridge. And even after that party."
"That you threw! If you ever do that again..."
"Okay, if you want me to."
Bakura was so mad, he picked up the saw and slashed at his head. (No, just kidding.)
After a lot longer, Bakura ended up finishing the chair. He did get into a lot of arguements, but he lived to see another day. Both of them.
A LOT LATER The long, hot month was over, and so was Bakura's ordeal. He had finished all of the broken things, because his yami finally decided to help. He had just enough time to clean up the rest of the house and put everything back just before his parents came.
"...Well?" Bakura asked.
"Well, what?"
"You gonna leave?"
"Why would I want to leave?" Bakura's eyes widened. "You promised!"
"But you never agreed! Plus my fingers were crossed."
"You were holding a hammer, you couldn't have."
"...Same thing. You haven't seen the last of me!"
And with that, he was out of sight.
"B-but...?"
"Bakura, sweetie, we're home!" his mother's voice rang out.
"Son, the house looks great! The same as we left it, too."
His parents gave him a tight hug. But his mom spotted something.
"Bakura...why is there a giant red stain on my priceless rug?"
And that's the third chapter of The Secret Life of...! Now it's time to pick our next character! Who will it be?
Bad Guys: Pegasus, Bandit Keith, Strings, Dartz, Allister, Raphael, Valon, Zigfried, Leon, Noah, Gozaburo, Paradox Brothers, Umbra & Lumis, and Zorc
Choose your favorite! R&R, people!