Alright guys!

Good morning! (It's 8 : 00 PM here.. HURP..)

I have done a crossover with my friend, Hazelstiltskin. It's Sargent Frog, and Yu-Gi-Oh!

Of course, it's Bakushipping.

We were going to make this a oneshot, but then we decided that we needed another chapter for the actual.. action.

So, I realize this now, that the italics (Me) is in present tense, whereas the bold (Hazel) is in past tense.

Urhm.

Hopefully that's not a bother to you guys, right?

Enjoy the show!

By the way- Hazel and I DO NOT OWN Yu-Gi-Oh, or Sargent Frog. If we did.. Oh dear god.. Hahahhahaaaaa.. :D

T-H-E_T-H-R-E-E_H-O-R-U-S-'-S_W-I-T-H_B-L-O-O-D

P-A-R-T_O-N-E

"Where ever you go, there you are." A man draped in a wine red cloak—which is fraying at the ends, so noticable it seems like a style. He has silver hair that reaches his shoulders, and appears to be in his mid-twenties. Across his neck is a large necklace, with a pyramid in the middle of the gold circle. On the pyramid, a large Egyptian eye glows a soft orange color. Slung over his shoulder, a bag of trophies and gold.

"Is that supposed to be rhetorical? Of course I'm here. I'm always fucking here. Because if I even think about leaving, he will kill me." The smaller figure replied with a huff. About two feet tall he stood, and as he stepped out of the shadows of the vacant building they were camping in, his crimson color could be identified. His hood was draped over the side of his heads, his belt clutching onto his body. The red being seemed unearthly. His eyes angrily gleamed as he waited on a response.

"I was talking to myself, you blood bath." The thief king snickers. He swings the bag onto his other shoulder, the injured one cringing at the contact of the metal. But the thief king keeps a straight face. Anything to give away to this red god demon could be a life or death situation. He starts walking forward, but ends up tripping over a picnic basket, tumbling him over, sending his bag of stolen goods sprawling across the sandy floor.

The red being gave a start at the sudden commotion; he jerked around, his smoldering gaze sweeping over the various items that were littered about the floor. "Don't tell me... You stole these too?" He growled. He kicked roughly at a crown that rolled up to him. "If you attract too much attention, I might just have to flake and not fulfill the debt I owe you. I don't want Guards getting in the way of my real business here." The voice hid more than it let on.

"Akefia, stop talking to him like that. He must be tired and hungry, and you putting up a fight with him isn't going to do very good with whatever task you had in mind, now will it?" Want to know about why the picnic basket was on the floor? Well, sitting near the basket with his hands clutched in apples, is another albino. His long hair reaches his lower shoulder regions, and his green eyes are sparked with annoyance. "The poor thing. Give him something to eat, he doesn't deserve it."

"Hey, I don't need your pity, brat! A true Soldier can fend for himself!" Came the snapped reply, though a lone glance at whatever lay within the picnic basket told otherwise. He wrapped a foot against the ground while fussing with his belt. "I swear, as soon as I help this King or whatever with his pathetic job, I am getting what I came for and leaving." He muttered loathsomely.

"Oh come on, now, blood bath." The thief king—named Akefia—mutters as he gnaws hungrily on some leftover garlic that's been in the basket for a while. He sits down near the other albino, the younger one scooting a way for a moment, before Akefia's wondering empty hand found it's way around the albino's waist and pulled him in. "I know we have our differences. But don't try to take it off while eating. If there's one thing I know, the Pharoah takes his time doing whatever the fuck he does. And that's why we're taking our time as well. Come, sit down. Eat. There's plenty to go around."

The red being that could easily be mistaken as some sort of frog shot a glare as that nickname was used, but he didn't argue as he sat down. "So what kind of shit do you have in there?" He indignantly sniffed, trying to mask how he had been susceptible to food. "I'd hope some sweet potatoes."

"Sweet potatoes? Oh wow, you poor thing must be awfully hungry, aren't you? Look in there and see what you like. This basket is magical, so all you have to do is want something and it'll give it to you." The green-eyed silverette smiles politely. "Sit down and eat with us. What is your name, dear God?"

The frog-like creature bluntly reached into the basket. "There's nothing wrong with sweet potatoes!" He sharply rebuked, before reaching back his hand. He indeed was stunned to find the leathery skin of a sweet potato in his grasp. After a heartbeat of prodding the item to see if it was a trap, he set to work on a fire. "What? God? Should I be insulted?" He raised an eyebrow, though he was only half interested.

"I don't think you should. Honestly, 'Thief King', I think I should be insulted. You could've told me to kill that plastic puppet of a pharoah, but you had to trust this.. two-foot red.. frog to do your bidding. I could of killed the high one with a simple twist of his neck. Or perhaps the funnest way of all.. I should have taken your precious ax we know you love so much and done it from there. It's the messiest way, true.. but you know it's fun to hear screaming. I would cut his legs off first, that way he has no way to run. Then, probably his chest, so he can't breathe." Another one sits down. He's about the same height, maybe a bit less than the Thief King, and looks about the same with Ryou, the smaller albino. Although, there are differences, one being that he has sharped angled features while Ryou has a more delicate face. Another is, he has blood crimson eyes, and large teeth. He grins psychotically. Clutched in his hand, of course, is a Grue-slaying sword, it's jagged ends covered with blood. "What guards are you talking about, crimson frog? Last time I checked, they all died."

The alien stabbed the potato, and held it over the small spark that he kindled with some ragged piece of cloth he'd found. He'd been staring with a disgusted curl of his lip as he had described to him the brutal plan. After he finished, the creature raised his roasting item to eye it carefully."You can never be sure that things will go your way, though. This battle plan is rather unclear, and I know nothing of our enemy. Who the Hell is the high one? I would like to know, considering you want me to kill him." He growled, though in the back of his mind he knew it was unlikely that any more would be revealed to him than what he knew.

"The high one is the pharaoh. If you were listening to us then maybe you would've known that." The Thief King sprays his garlic all over the sanded floor. The wind picks up steadily, swirling near them coarsely, creating numerous of twists. The east of this terrain can see a large palace, with a large crimson slab of crystal placed in the center of it. The palace of gods, also known as the Pharaoh's palace. The thief king sneers. To the west, where Ra dies every night, is the Hall of Death, where it's also known as a prison. A purple glass rock is placed on the tallest tower, where the prisoners can't reach. That's where Bakura and Akefia came from. "That's what I mean by the quote. No matter how far you walk, these two buildings are always here."

The frog snorted, shaking his head roughly to scatter beads of sand from his crimson cap. "Well, thanks for clearing that much up for me." He sarcastically grumbled, biting into his sweet potato. It was bad enough that he'd been sent to this strange land, and even worse that the reason was just to get more funds for his selfish and lazy leader. But finding ways to earn alien funds hadn't been easy. It almost seemed this desolate area was so remote that it was back a few centuries, time-wise. And no other aliens seemed near besides the humans, formally known as Pekoponians. And now he had gotten himself stuck in this debt situation, so it was possible he wouldn't even get paid by doing the task for these Pekoponians. But it's not like his assigned task was complicated. Assassination was one of his key skills.

The Thief King can't decide whether to keep the blood-bath here, or send him back into the Shadow Realm. The frog came up to Ryou a couple of days ago to ask for money in return for work, and Akefia had the brilliant idea to make him carry out the bidding which Bakura would have done so nicely and quickly. But of course, toying with people's emotions are ever so fun. With a single flick of the hand, Akefia can have the frog killed or saved because of his two lovers. Ryou can easily snuggle him to death, and Bakura can probably slit his throat in one second flat. Akefia is a thinker, a planner, a mastermind. The pharaoh is to pay to what he has done to my dead village. He has put me in an awkward position ever since then, where I have to feed myself from scraps, steal, kill, or even manipulate to get his way. He met Ryou when the boy had no where to go, his father abandoned him a few days before then. Bakura had tried to kill Akefia, wanting to keep Ryou all to himself, but realized that Akefia was just as skilled in combat as he was. They were family. They could easily kill the pharaoh themselves, but like the Thief King just said.. toying with people's emotions are just so fun.

The frog finished his potato, throwing the scraps aside with nonchalance. Without warning, suddenly his earpiece let out a shrill bit of feedback, and the rather annoying voice of his leader rang out around him. "Heyyy, Girow-row! How's it going?" As the click of the microphone signaled the end of his sentence, the crimson frog quickly snapped in reply, "Keroro, you green idiot, my name is Giroro and you know that!" There was a pause, and a lazy scratching sound, before the reply came. "Well fine, be that way Mr. Grumpy. How's the fund collection coming along?" There was another pause, and Giroro awkwardly admitted, "It's not that... I just that he..." He flicked his gaze around, before crabbily shouting, "I need more time!" He slapped his hand against his cap, ending the transmission in rage.

"What was that?" The thief king quizzically asks. He tilts his head sideways, careful to not make it fall on his scar, which is now bleeding. Ryou notices, picking up a small napkin to help try to clean it off, but it seems as if it's dried blood. Ryou sighs, but says nothing. He sits comfortably on Bakura's lap, and quietly takes away his sword and watching him quietly protest. He sticks the sword into the sand deeply so that it can stand by itself, but not so deeply as Bakura can't pull the metal dagger out again. He goes back to eating his smoked meat that he picks out from the never-ending food supplied weaved basket. Ryou murmurs something along the lines of, 'I weaved it myself,' to which no one except Bakura noted, wrapping his hands around his chest and pulling him in. Akefia notes it, but tries to show no jealousy. "I swear I heard something."

Giroro snorted. "I'm sure it was just the wind," He grumbled, not wanting to admit his leader's tomfoolery was the only reason for the funding trip. He folded his legs and placed his palms on his knees. "So, soldiers, what are our plans for attack?"

"Attack?" Bakura sneers. His grip on Ryou tightens. "The only plan of attack is to get your crimson-god ass and Tozoko-ou's up the Palace of God's walls, and hopefully you two can manage on your own. I have to keep Ryou safe, you know. As much as I would love to help you out—" Ryou stops him, and murmurs in his ear about something along the lines of, 'you don't have to worry about me. I'll be going with you guys.' which brings a large blush to his face.

Giroro inwardly groaned at this relationship displayed, and after a heartbeat lurched, eyes flaring with anger. "Crimson-god ass? Crimson-god ass? The only ass you'll see is your own after I'm through blasting your body to pieces!" He snapped, but stood up anyways, brushing off the sand that clung to his legs. "So when do we take said action?" He grumbled.

"We take action at dusk, when Ra is hanged." The King seethes at his action. He picks something out of the bag he carried with gold artifacts, and wraps the fabric around his head, securing it with a golden band. In the shadows of the fabric, gold eyes pierce through, staring at the frog. With gritted teeth, a fang seems to seep through his pulled back lips, showing his aggressiveness. With one look to the other two albinos, he wraps his necklace around his neck again, it glowing a dark red color. The other two silverettes put theirs on, Ryou's glowing a light blue, and Bakura's glowing a dark navy. "Which means we need to start walking now."

Giroro shrugged and materialized a gun, as he usually did in combat. "I don't know what those necklaces are, or what they do, but I have my methods of war and you have yours." After spinning it between his fingers by the handle a moment, he turned, craving the taste of battle.

"Who doesn't know what these do?" Bakura laughs manically. Bloodshot eyes with constricted pupils, his own teeth stained with blood from the juices of the meat he ate. The eye of Horus engraved in the triangle of the necklaces seeps black fog, spreading around, carressing Ryou's cheek before whispers and giggles come from no where. "They are remains of the dark spirit that will help us. I have the dark spirit in me, but only in portions. The rest of him lives in the necklaces we have. With him we'll be able to summon the Shadow Realm, and black magic."

Giroro narrowed his eyes in heavy suspicion, but pushed it away. "Whatever. I prefer a couple of AK's and a Hovercraft." He muttered.

"Then let's get going." The Thief King smirks, staring at the Palace of Gods. Ra is getting ready to fall, the tip being jabbed already by the Hall of Death's glass rock. The whispers seem to fade slowly, but the fog doesn't leave just yet. For what's coming up next, the three albinos are prepared. Hopefully the blood-bath is ready as well.

E-N-D_H-E-R-E

Is it good? Is it bad?

I don't know. I hope you guys like it so far.

So, please REVIEW!

Ne, Ja Ne!