This story is a little different from most word duels on the-Fas so I want to give it a little set up. This story comes from an Ink & Blood dueling event. Not only was it written in just ten minutes but it was done in front of a live audience who were following along on a separate monitor. As is Ink & Blood tradition the audience yelled questions and comments which writers sometimes respond to, as I have in this story. I’ve removed lines that don’t make sense without the context of what was shouted but I’ve tried to change as little as possible to keep the sense of audience interaction.
Mike ripped open the pack of Magic cards. His face went ghost white. “Dude. They put a Yugioh card in here. Not just any Yugioh card. It’s one written in German, printed in Canada, and delivered to a drug cartel in Mexico before being mixed in with magic cards and sold in the busy metropolis of Metropolis.
“Your point?” Al said.
“My point is-” but Mike never got to his point about his rare multinational card. An even rarer card ripped through the air! A steel edged original Charizard. That’s right…
The card cut across Mike’s jugular, drenching his apathetic friend in blood. Al shrugged.
Mike shoved the rare Yugioh card into Al’s hand and spoke his final words. “Al… my friend, my brother, you must protect this card with your life.” He dropped to his knees and his bloody fingers slipped from the card.
Al shrugged, “K.” He stood over the body of his only friend, turning over the bloody Yugioh card and debating whether to go back into the comic shop and sell it.
The Yugioh card that was printed in German in Canada, from Mexico, et cetera. Get a map.
He wandered off to the corner when a strong, small hand grabbed him from behind.
“Give me the card.”
(Happy) was the name of the card ninja that grabbed him.
“You killed my friend,” Al said.
“Yes, we’ll get to that line. But first, I’ll kill you too if you don’t give me the card.
“this card, covered in blood?”
“Yes. That one.”
Al shrugged, “Fight me for it.”
“Seriously? I’m a ninja, you haven’t moved any muscle but your shoulders since I killed your friend.”
Al shrugged and raised his hands slightly. “Happy? Shoulders and hands.”
“The card or your life,” the probably small child cosplaying said.
“Alright,” Al said. He spun the card high into the air with expert skill, swept the ninja’s legs and back kicked him through the comic shop window. The card came down into Al’s waiting fingers. He looked over his work and shrugged.