Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ C'est la vi ❯ Deux ( Chapter 2 )

It was like an extreme water slide. They zoomed through the tunnel, trying their hardest to survive long enough to get to the coveted prize.

The leader encountered a problem, and addressed the group. "Uh-oh! All right, you guys take the left tunnel, we'll take the right tunnel. Remember, one of us has to get to the prize! So don't go eating each other! And watch out for the bc pills, they're lethal!"

"Yes SIR!"

"Man," one sighed. "What a life we've got. Reduced from over a million of us to... just... one... Aaaugh!"

Meanwhile, that which was waiting for them at the end of the tunnel saw their approach, and cheered. "Go little fishies! Swim tiny tadpoles! Hurry it up, I'm bored over here! C'mon, I need some excitement! Oh yeah..."

Bulma woke up and reached towards the other side of the bed, expecting the Saiyan she'd had three times the night before, and twice around 2:30 in the morning, but felt only air. "Dammit! Well, if he's not in this room right now, then that must mean he left the planet."

She went downstairs to where her blonde mother, recipient of the very first brain transplant between a human and a canary, stood in the kitchen making breakfast. "Say Mom, have you seen Vegeta around here lately?"

"Oh! You mean that fine specimen of a man I've got the hots for? You know Bulma you really ought to get him in the sack and trap him with a kid so he'll stick around here, then I'll be able to look at his fine ass every day!"

"Uum, never mind, Mom."

I did mention that it was an exceedingly hormonal canary, right?

Suddenly, there was a knock on the front door. "Ooh! Maybe that's Vegeta! Why he would knock instead of just barging on in like he usual does, since he does live here after all, is beyond me, but oh well."

She opened the door and got quite the surprise. "Yamcha! What're you doing here?"

Said fornicator stared at the ground, looking nervous. "Uh, well, Britney and Mandy left me for these n-something guys so I thought I'd come crawling back."

"They left you for N*Suck! HA!" Bulma laughed and slammed the door in his face.

"Buulmaaaa!" He whined, sounding a lot like Gohan at age five. And seven. And twelve. "I still love you!!! Really! I'm not lying this time! Really! I mean it!"

Suddenly (because these things always have to happen suddenly), the author realized something!

Rae: "I just suddenly realized something!"

See?

Rae: "Yamcha! Yam-cha! Yam! Yams are vegetables! So... OH MY GOD YAMCHA IS A LONG-LOST UNDISCOVERED SAIYAN!!! WHY DIDN'T I REALIZE THIS BEFORE??? I'LL HAVE TO WRITE A FIC ABOUT HIM!!! BEFORE SOME LOONIES STEAL MY IDEA! AAAUUUGHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

Uh, back to the story, yeah...

"Hey Yamcha, why don't you go call one of those spice people up? They must really be scraping the bottom of the barrel since they all were revealed to be skanks with no musical talent. They'll love you. You'll fit right in."

"Wow! Why didn't I think of that? Thanks a million, Bulma!" He immediately ran off to buy some Hai Karate cologne and textured condoms. And some musical ones if he could find them. The employees at Adult World never let him down.

Bulma spoke to herself in response, gloating, "Don't need to, I already have several hundred. Millions, that is. It's great to be a rich bitch in the lap of luxury. Good thing I smashed that damned glass ceiling with the frying pan I borrowed from... Uh... Goku's wife. Does she even know what her name means?"

So then she decided to go see what the fuck was up with Vegeta (pun intended) by contacting him on the space ship/gravity room/pressure cooker's videophone thing (did you know the videophone was invented in 1964? I'm serious!). The picture that came up wrenched her heart--he was staring out the window of the capsule, his face so anguished and forlorn, like he was waiting for something meaningful that never would arrive. He began muttering, and Bulma strained her ears to properly eavesdrop. "I can't fucking believe it's taking the pizza guy that long to get here, 'We deliver everywhere!' my ass! I'm starving!"

Well, that explains it.

"Vegeta!" she yelled, snapping him out of his Pizza Hut-inspired reverie. "Why the hell did you go into outer space, literally, right after we banged? Are you a pansy or something?"

Shrugging, "Yes. Plus I figured if I wasn't on the planet I wouldn't be stuck with that paternity shit."

"Paternity shit?"

"Oops."

So, Bulma severed the connection and immediately ran down to the corner five-and-dime to get a nice 100% Accurate Easily Operated Home Pregnancy Test (TM). Oh no! Two pink lines, an x, a smiley face, and the outline of a flying squirrel! She flipped through the 500-page 100% Accurate Easily Operated Home Pregnancy Test (TM) decoder booklet and, 2 hours later, found the entry: "If your 100% Accurate Easily Operated Home Pregnancy Test (TM) displayed two pink lines, an x, a smiley face, and the outline of a flying squirrel, you had a wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am-the-check-is-in-the-mail affair with a Saiyan prince who has to walk sideways to fit his ego through the door, and are now cursed with carrying a kid who's gonna be stronger than you by the time he's three. Congratulations!"

Back on the videophone, "GodDAMMIT, Vegeta! Even your fucking SPERM had to be strong!"

Vegeta smirked.

"Get your ass back down here!"

He smirked. "As soon as I go Super Saiyan with my motivation of course being something other than my purely evil heart, indomitable pride, and desire to survive, I'll be sure to get back just in time for you to go into labor, squeeze my hand into toothpicks and curse my name until the kid is born."

Sarcastically, she tossed her head, (caught it and) scoffed, "I suppose then we're going to suddenly discover we're madly in love with each other, right?"

He shrugged, smirking. "Of course. That's the way it works in these kinds of things."

"Oh. Well, see ya then."

Nine months later, when Bulma was in the hospital screaming obscenities about men in general and Vegeta in particular, the rest of the Z-gang came to visit her, though by the time the androids came they had all totally forgotten the experience and had to ask her who's kid it was and why the hell did she have to fuck Vegeta of all people. Must be some side effect of getting punched in the cranium a few too many times. Who knows?

The labor was going smoothly.

"Ow! This is all your fault! Stupid Saiyan genes!"

"You're a woman, you can handle it!"

"Jesus fucking Christ, you'd understand if you didn't have your head stuck so far up your ass!"

So Vegeta then proceeded to pull his head out of his ass. Eeewww....

"Go take a shower, for chrissakes! You reek!"

Several minutes and one shower later, "Goddammit Vegeta if I knew this was gonna happen I would never have let you seduce me!"

"Hey! You're the one that seduced me!"

"No, you seduced me!"

"You seduced me!"

"You seduced me!"

"You seduced me!"

And so on.

The nurses, fresh out of medical school, stood in the corner and giggled. Vegeta glared at them and asked, "Can I blast them?"

Bulma rolled her eyes. "No."

Indignant, "Why not?"

"I'll make you sleep on the couch."

"So? You aren't that good of a lay."

"Yeah, well neither are you!"

"What? I am the Prince of all Saiyans--"

"Yeah yeah yeah, whatever, jeez, third-class Goku is a better lay than you."

Vegeta stared. "What? Just how many of the Z-weaklings have you had???"

She blushed. "Umm... Well, there's you, Yamcha, Goku, Krillin, Master Roshi [Vegeta proceeded to gag], Yajirobe, Tenshinhan, Chaotzu... I think that's it. Piccolo might've been fun, but he's asexual apparently so I guess I'll never know. Chaotzu was definitely the best, though. You wouldn't believe the things he can do with his--"

"Ugh, quit swooning! Now have this kid so we can get out of here!"

"Oh yeah, I forgot." (As did the author)

So, out popped Trunks. Everyone oohed and aaahed and there was much rejoicing.

Vegeta noticed something. "Funny, he looks an awful lot like that purple-haired Super Saiyan punk from the future."

Bulma concurred. "Wow. What a coincidence."

And they thought nothing more of it. Idiots.

Suddenly, the author remembered that there was chicken cordon bleu in the oven, and burning!

Rae: "Fuck! Now I'll be stuck with ice cream and pizza rolls for dinner! ...Cool!"

Days later, back at Capsule Corp, a certain Saiyan was hungry.

"Woman! I want salad!"

Bulma made a disgusted face. "First of all, ew, and secondly, he's dead."

Vegeta blinked. "Not that one, you idiot, the other one! The one you eat!"

"Hey, whatever floats your boat."

"Ugh, I'll just have rice."

"I thought you wanted to kill him, not ass-rape him."

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT AND YOU KNOW IT!!!"

Hehehe....

Vegeta stalked off, muttering something about names and blasting Funimation into the next dimension. He needs to work off his anger problems. I mean really. Valium might work. Or Prozac. Ritalin maybe.

Bulma stared at his retreating back and sighed. "He'd be happy if he wasn't so pissed-off all the time. Maybe I should sign him up for yoga or therapy or something."

Finis.

For now....

[Translations, for the unenlightened few of you that had abso-fucking-lutely no clue what the hell was going on with those names.

Chichi = boobs

Nappa = salad

Goku = rice

Obviously.]