Chapter Text
Sydney, Australia…
After the sheer horror that Yugi Muto experienced on the airplane, the gang landed in Sydney. Yugi was swearing under his breath as he left the gate, while Solomon was leaving a trail of grease as he walked behind the infuriated Yugi. Yami, meanwhile, was inside of his soul room, deliberately ignoring the chaos soon to erupt. It was as if Solomon was a snail. A slimy, greasy, sweaty snail.
“OHHHHH YUUUUGI, I can’t wait for our Australian adventure together!! WEEEEEE!” Solomon danced by his lonesome in the airport. He flopped onto the baggage carousel, sliding down the conveyor belt like a fat seal. He retrieved checked luggage that clearly did not belong to either of them.
“Guys, we need to get out of here now! This is supposed to be our vacation for the International Card Expo. I can’t have my stupid grandpa here to ruin our fun.” Yugi complained.
“What do you have in mind, Yug?” Joey woofed, scratching his ear with his fursuit claws. Yugi looked back at his grandpa, whose fat body was spinning around the baggage carousel.
“Finally! A place fit for a pony my age!” Solomon cheered.
“If we run away now, grandpa won’t find us and he’ll just be stuck at the airport while we’re here. He doesn’t know the hotel we’re staying at either. The man is so senile, he will not even find a way out of the airport.”
“Yug...didn’t your grandpa put a tracking device in you...somewhere?”
“I disabled his ridiculous tracking system while he was asleep on the plane. What the—what’s this?!” Yugi flapped his jacket pockets to find bits of his grandpa’s greasy bacon bits lingering in his jacket. He regurgitates instead of snoring whenever he sleeps.
“Whatever...c’mon guys, let’s get out here.” Yugi began to run with his short baby legs. Joey, Tristan, and Téa were out running Yugi (even with Joey running on all fours), leaving him behind.
“Téa? Tristan? Where’d you—Whatever.” Yugi decided it didn’t matter how his useless friends had gotten there.
“Wait a minute...my i-Yugi tracker is vibrating..” Solomon’s second i-Yugi tracker starter alerted the delusional grandpa as he saw his baby grandson wobbling to catch up with his so-called “friends” as they attempted to escape the airport.
“YUUUUUUUUUGI WAIT FOR MEEEEEEEEEE!!” Solomon screeched like a pterodactyl. He rolled off of the conveyor belt, flopping towards his grandson. Streams of sweat puddled into the airport, and soaked bystanders’ shoes.
“GRANDPA, LEAVE ME ALONE! I can’t take this anymore! This is humiliating!”
People stopped to stare at the obese elderly man chasing after the prepubescent-looking boy. A bystander grabbed Yugi’s wrist. “Son, your grandpa seems to be looking for you. Wouldn’t want you to get lost!”
“I’m a highschool dropout, damnit! Let go of me!”
Just as Solomon was in mid-flop, he noticed an advertisement for Hell’s Kitchen, his favorite show to watch while he neglected to take care of Yugi. Yami would occasionally watch it with Grandpa as well because he, too, enjoyed watching Hell’s Kitchen while Yugi was being totally neglected.
“OHHHHHHH MYYYYYYY!” Solomon said as he floated to the advertisement stand. “THIS IS A DREAM COME TRUE!”
“Uhmmm, would you like to sign up to be a part of Hell’s Kitchen, sir?” The man at the stand asked. He was also trying not to throw up due to the horrific stench that the old man was carrying on his person. Was that bacon in his own hair? Perhaps all of Solomon’s hair was bacon. It did look crispy and greasy.
“OH YES, I WOULD LOVE TO BE A PART OF MONSIEUR RAMSAY’S SHOW! What would I have to do to be a contestant?” Solomon gleefully asked.
“Well, I need you to sign your name, date of birth, and where in Australia you reside.” The man asked. Solomon was stunned and confused by the word reside.
“Where I...re-side? Date of birth…? My name…?”
“Where in Australia you live…? When you were born. Sir do you have a driver’s license or other form of ID?”
A shadow crossed over Solomon’s face. His driver’s license was revoked after crashing his Mercedes (it didn’t matter, nonetheless, as it was under Yugi’s name). “My...name. Ah, yes! GUTTENTAG, SIR. My name is Hans Elias Lucas Oskar. I reside in….here.”
“....Here, sir?” The man questioned.
“Yes! In beautiful Osaka, Australia!”
“This is Sydney...sir. Not Osaka..”
“YES THAT’S WHAT I SAID! Now...when do I meet Monsieur Ramsay?”
“Well, we need to validate that you’re an actual…”
Solomon pulled a couple pieces of stale bacon out of his greasy thick hair and slid it to the poor man. He looked disgusted as the bacon was breaking mid-slide and reeking of sweat.
“Will this speed up the process??” Solomon awkwardly smiled, baring his rotting teeth.
The man started to throw up and that meant yes for the eager Hans Elias Lucas Oskar. He took the papers and began to catch up to his grandson, who was still trailing behind his friends.
Yugi was screaming at bystanders to let go of his wrist. Tristan and Joey stood there like trees, and Téa had wandered off to buy some coffee.
“Guys! Help!” Yugi screamed. “MA’AM you need to let go! I’m legally an adult! This is assault! This is...not surprising.”
“I’LL SAVE YOU YUUUUUUGIIII!” Grandpa gracefully jumped to save his poor grandson. As he lept, he left sprinkles of grease and sweat into the Australian crowd. The crowd screamed in their thick Australian accents as Grandpa barreled into the crowd, his sweat and odor suffocating the poor citizens. He flopped towards his screaming baby grandson.
Yugi bit the woman’s hand and ran as fast as his baby legs could carry him. Hopefully this would be faster than his obsese grandfather could.
“TRISTAN, JOEY...TÉA! HELP ME!” Yugi yelled, panting and gasping for breath, as his low agility and stamina fought him with every step. Yami...Help?
I do not think so Yugi, the future is unclear.
Yami, I’m going to throw the millennium puzzle into the sea if you don’t help me now!!
* choo-choo*
Yami was distracted with Yugi’s baby toys in his soul room.
What are you doing in my soul room!
Before Yugi could utter another word, he felt the warm breath that was only his delusional grandpa barreling towards him.
“WHAT GRANDPA!!!!”
BOOM
“OH YUGI, I HAVE GREAT NEWS! I’m the newest contestant in Monsieur Ramsay’s show, Hell’s Kitchen! The Australian version! Isn’t that amazing?!”
“Stupid Grandpa, you’re not even Australian! How in the hell are you going to be a contestant?”
“Oh, please, silly grandson. I may not be Australian, but I can certainly play the part. It’s time to go shopping.”
As Yugi was being dragged around in the streets of Sydney, Solomon noticed a familiar figure in the middle of the park.
“Wait...could it...COULD IT BE?!”
Indeed, it was famous chef, Gordon Ramsay. Or, in the Australian language, Gordon de la Ramsay. Solomon was his biggest fan and knew this was his moment; this was his time to shine. After years of depriving Yugi of basic needs in order to watch Hell’s Kitchen, it was as if his destiny had arrived. Yugi considered biting his grandfather’s hand, but realized that those hands had been nowhere clean in the past century. Solomon immediately let Yugi go out of his meaty, sweaty claws and began to wobble ferociously to the famous chef.
“Oh, God…” Monsieur Ramsay mumbled to himself.
“GUTTENTAG MONSIEUR RAMSAY!” Grandpa barreled directly into the famous chef, his grease and sweat lingering on the poor man’s clothes indefinitely. “My name is...uhh...Yugi...no, wait, uhh….ah, yes. Hans. I am a native Australian. Yes. Donde estas? Me gusto very mucho Hell’s Kitchen. Me no gusta grandson Yugi.”
Beads of sweat began to pour across the old man’s forehead, as Gordon was utterly confused. However, he did not care and decided to put Solomon in the blue team. Yugi, meanwhile, stood from afar, questioning as to whether he should go back to Domino City. Or if he should move somewhere else entirely.
“All right, chefs. For your next challenge, I need you to create your best entre. However, this spinning wheel will decide the main ingredient that will be added to your dish.” Ramsay explained.
Solomon looked through the wheel and couldn’t understand any of the words on the wheel, which included: Cheese (excellent with bacon), Bananas (phallic fruit), Bell Peppers (disgusting vegetable), Chocolate (also good with bacon), Eggs (scrumptious protein also a classic partner to bacon), and Salmon (bane of Solomon’s existence). Mako Tsunami had fed Solomon a salmon buffet once. It was unpleasant. As he got the last ingredient, his eyes widened with joy.
“BAAAAAAAACON” He shouted in his head. This was his chance. This was his opportunity to become Monsieur Ramsay’s next executive chef in Sydney at his new restaurant. This was destiny.
Grandpa stripped off his greasy clothes and dressed into his recently purchased lederhosen. The camera crew vomited. The lederhosen were only available in the women’s section, but quite frankly, Solomon preferred the skirt. It was comfortably snug on his bacon folds. Perhaps he should purchase a lederhosen for Yugi in the children’s section? Yugi had looked stunning in the tutu he’d bought him two weeks ago.
“What in the -” Gordon was absolutely appalled. “BLUE TEAM! Can you explain this monstrosity?” he pointed towards Solomon.
“Monsieur Ramsay, I have been waiting for this moment my entire five years of living, as bacon is my favorite food in the entire world!” Solomon shouted. His teammates began to step away, as they too started to smell the horrific stench that was radiating from Solomon.
“Okay...but, why on earth are you wearing a lederhosen?” Gordon replied.
“It’s my favorite piece of native clothing to represent the wonderful town of Australia!” Solomon exclaimed.
“All right... uhm red team, I need one chef to come down to spin the wheel.” Gordon asked.
“NOOOOOOOOO MEEEEEEEEEEEE” Solomon began to shove and knock down his team with his meaty claws as he wobbled to the wheel of food. He literally crashed into the wheel, sending it flying to the ground.
“Excuse me!! Sir!! I need you to step back in lin—” Gordon was then shoved down to the ground by the overly eager (and sweaty) grandpappi. Solomon tried to move the wheel to the choice of bacon. As he tried to spin the wheel, his greasy and sweaty hands destroyed the wheel and left it in pieces.
“BACON IT IS!!” Solomon began to grab every ounce of raw bacon that his sweaty eyes could see. His grease left a slimy sheen on the raw bacon. He chucked the raw bacon to the blue team, screaming, “TURN ON THE STOVE!!”
Grandpa barreled into the kitchen, his sweat pooling onto the floor. Gordon slipped and screamed onto the floor. Solomon then cranked up the heat on the stove, throwing the bacon into the pan. The bacon quickly caught on fire.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!” Gordon screamed. The other contestants went over to the cameras to have their side comment moments.
“The fire gives it a crispy flavor!” Grandpappi roared.
“TURN OFF THE STOVE, YOU MUPPET!!” Gordon yelled at the drenched old man. “JUST BECAUSE YOU THINK YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO SHOVE ME TO THE GROUND, DOES NOT MEAN YOU CAN BURN MY KITCHEN!”
“Here, Monsieur, have a taste of greatness.” Solomon shoved the small, burnt piece of bacon into the famous chef. Furious and out of control, Gordon took the bacon and slammed it on the table next to the eager Hans Elias Lucas Oskar. As the bacon slammed onto the table, a small speck of the bacon grease ricochet off the table and onto the lips of the angry chef. Suddenly, Gordon was speechless. He never tasted bacon grease before in his entire cooking career, but was infatuated by the delectable sodium filled liquid, that he was left stunned in disbelief. Perhaps this bloody ballistic old man was onto something. He did not understand as to why he was pretending to be German though.
“Sir, this grease is incredible. I never tasted anything like this before..” Gordon spoke in astonishment. He wiped the remaining grease from his lips with his Blue Eyes White Britain card.
“BE STILL MY BEATING HEART, you love my bacon grease, monsieur?? It’s a Muto, I mean...Oskar family recipe.”
“I would love to feature this...bacon grease in my famous restaurant. I choose you, Hans. Let me dismiss all of the other contestants even though it violates their contracts.”
“NO!” none other than Yugi Moto screamed. He was watching this all from afar. He stormed onto the stage set, kicking his Grandpa directly in the stomach. Yugi’s foot bounced off. Solomon collapsed onto the ground, wailing like a horse about to be sent to the glue factory. “NO! I’m not allowing this to happen! This man, Hans? Ramsay, he’s not even Australian! His name is Solomon Muto!”
Oh, Yugi, what have you done? Yami tsked. You are about to destroy your poor fat Grandfather’s dreams...I am proud of you.
Thanks for nothing, you lazy ass spirit! And give me back my damn trains
and go back to your own soul room. I don’t even care about his dreams, I’m doing it for the principle of it.
Have fun washing your baby star pajamas, kid.
They burnt down in the fire! Fuck you, Yami. I’m done with the baby star pajamas. “I’m sleeping NAKED from now on!” Yugi screamed to everyone in the vicinity.
Yami sighed, as he looked over at the small gift box he had for Yugi. It was another pair of baby star pajamas.
Grandpa, meanwhile, was hunched over on the kitchen floor, wailing in pain. “Oh, my stomach! My stomach! I think my water broke!” He wasn’t kidding, to a certain point of view. He kept an extra pouch of Bacon Chateau ‘89 in his stomach for safe keeping.
“Grandpa, are you in heat too?” Joey woofed.
“Get out of here you disgusting furry!” Grandpa cried, sucking his thumb like a baby. “YUUUUUUUUGI! YUUUUUUUUUUGI! Come help your dear Opa!”
“No, Grandpa! You need to tell Gordon the truth or I’ll tell him for you!” Yugi yelled. As soon as Yugi began to take his first baby step to the confused chef, Solomon reached deep into his pockets and pulled out his secret weapon that he swore he would use in dire situations.
“POCKET GREASE!” The battered grandpa tossed on the ground to stop his baby grandson from telling the truth. Yugi slipped immediately and fell to the ground, leaving him unconscious...again.
Hehehehehehe *choo choo* Look at me, the lazy ass spirit, with your trains!
Joey looked at his unconscious friend, and then over to his kinkshaming grandfather. He sighed. He didn’t know what to do. So he got down on all fours and licked Yugi’s face, whimpering. Who else was he supposed to roleplay Alpha and Omega with tonight?
“JOEY, cut it out!” Tristan yelled, punching the dirt. He removed all of his clothes hoping this would help the situation. It was unfortunately laundry day, so Tristan was not wearing briefs. It was his thong. “Yugi, if you wake up, I’ll do that stripper lap dance you like. Please, please wake up, Yugi-poo.”
As this monstrosity was occurring, Solomon rolled over in his slime, groveling for Monsieur Ramsay to accept his offer. He was a true slug.
“I’m so sorry about my grandson, Monsieur Chef. He overreacts whenever a life event happens.” Solomon wheezed. The camera man zoomed in on Solomon’s wrinkly, sweaty, greasy face. “I want to be...the very best...chef.” He cried as small streams of grease ran down his cheeks. His tear ducts were literally replaced with grease.
Chef Ramsay looked down at the pathetic slug of a man. He looked over at the unconscious child, the furry licking the poor child’s face, and the male stripper who was...doing the macarena next to the other two.
“Mr...whatever your name is…” Chef Ramsay frowned. “This grease is...impeccable, but alas, I think you must be disqualified from the show. Your poor grandson may be in a coma at this point.”
“NO!” The furry screamed. “YUGI, PLEEEEASEE!!”
Finally growing tired of all of the screaming, and seeing that Yugi’s soul was still out for the count, Yami took over the body.
“Stop. LICKING. Me, Joey! Now is not the time for a furry game.” He looked over to Tristan who was still dancing. He sighed.
Joey screamed upon recognition it was in fact Yami. Then Yami finally recognized Chef Ramsay. “Ah! You are that man from the magic box...the television!” He said proudly. “Chef Ransky, will you sign Yugi’s…. my back. I’m a big fan of your work.” He knew Yugi would be pleased. “Or perhaps my chest so I can see it…”
The chef looked at the pharaoh with disgust, but also admired his hair, as it was more extravagant as his. “I...suppose I will not question as to why you’re now 7 feet taller and have a deeper voice, but, sure.”
Grandpa flopped towards the two. “WAIT!” he cried. “Can you sign my stomach too? Tattoo it!”
“NO!” he roared. “Only for the obviously malnourished prepubescent boy!”
Grandpappi grabbed onto Chef Ramsay’s leg with a vice and started moaning suggestively. “Please…” Salty tears streamed down his face. “I have a body pillow of your likeness, chef monsieur Ramsey. I sleep with it every night, I caress it, and every night I—”
“SOLOMON that is disgusting.” Yami scolded, stepping on him and putting him back into his place.
“Don’t forget the safe word, guys!” Joey chimed.
“ENOUGH! I’m trying to get an autograph from Gordon Rams-”
The chef was already two blocks down, as he didn’t have time to deal with their nonsense.
“NOOOOOOOOOO MONSIEUR WAAAAAAAAAIT” Solomon began to barrel towards the frightened chef.
“Yugi will be so disappointed when he wakes up.” Yami muttered. He went over to Tristan, who was the only one not acting like a literal animal. He was clearly the Alpha in the furry roleplay. Téa was not there, and apparently they had managed to leave her at the airport. He shrugged. “Tristan...put your pants on. The furry roleplay is over.”
“Ah, ah, ah, phawoah, what is the safe word?”
“MIND CRUSH!” Yami screamed, and Tristan collapsed onto the ground.
Gordon looked behind him and saw the fear-induced old man barreling towards him. He ran across the street to create more distance from Solomon. As he crossed the street, Solomon unraveled from his barreled state and began to wobble with haste across the streets of Sydney.
“MONSIEUR RAMSAY, WHAT ABOUT MY GREEEEEEASE?!” As Solomon was about to start crossing the street, a lamborghini ran right into the wheezing old man.
“YUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGIIIIIII” The greasy old man whaled, as he bounced directly off the car and flew across the sky and into the ocean.
“What in the world was that?” none other than Snoop Dogg muttered in his weed-induced lambo. He had only run over Gustavo Rocque an hour ago.
“YUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII”
YUGIOOOOOOH.
Yugi then woke up, not remembering what had happened to him. He looked around. “Where am I? Ugh, did Joey lick my face again?” He asked.
“You’re right here with us, pal!” Tristan quickly put back on his clothes, so Yugi wouldn’t notice. “Joey didn’t lick you, that’s just...your sweat?”
“Oh, alright. Where’s Grandpa?” Yugi asked. His friends all shrugged as they could still hear the echoes of Solomon’s cry for his grandson in the Australian sky.
“Well, we shouldn’t be too far from the International Card Expo. Let’s get going!” Yugi cheerfully said. His moment of unconsciousness had made him more forgiving and more like his old self. He smiled.
As the friends walked to the convention center, a huge splash came upon the sea. Only to follow what would be a huge tidal wave that started to make its way towards the city of Australia.
“Oh my gosh! What is that?!” A man yelled in fear.
As the wave began to form even more, the crowd noticed a short, stubby, and greasy figure at the top of the wave.
“I’M COMING YUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGIIIIIII!!”
End of Chapter One