Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ "This Can't Be Happening!" ❯ What Do You Know Piccolo ( Chapter 3 )

Legal disclaimer: Dragonball and the characters belong to Toriyama and whoever else owns the copyrights.

%%%%%%%

This chap's a bit long, but you'll understand.

%%%%%%

Piccolo could not believe this. He was a warrior, not a healer. He strode into the room, his cape swishing behind him. The forty future veterinarians (and some recently converted vegetarians) gaped in awe. Never had they seen a humanoid so tall and green.

He wasted no time. "Call me Piccolo. Part of your curriculum is learning how to treat your own injuries incurred during the handling of animals. Let's get this over with quickly."

A hand timidly rose. "Sir, do you know a Lord Vegeta and Professor Chaotzu?"

Piccolo grunted. "I do. And after what I've been through with those two, I hope to never see them again."

The class relaxed a fraction. Previous experience taught them not to get their hopes up.

Piccolo began. "It's simple. Rule number one: avoid all dangerous creatures. However, if you are stupid enough to forget rule number one and get bitten, scratched, clawed, or sprayed by rabid, venomous, or sick animals, then wash out the wound with copious amounts of water. Go immediately to the hospital, and pray to your kai, Dende. Class dismissed."

The not-yet-vets frowned at each other. That was it? Class over? By golly, the non-refundable tuition cost a buttload, and they sure as HFIL better get their money's worth from this guy.

"Sir, that's all true, but what if we're far from a hospital? What should we do then?"

The Namek sighed. So, they actually wanted him to teach. The giant warrior left the room. A few minutes later, a couple of laboratory assistants brought in glass tanks, each containing a deadly viper.

Professor Piccolo re-entered the room. The giant proceeded to lift a cobra expertly from its cage. The class gasped in unison. "Snakes seem to give people the most worries, so I'll use them as an example." He looked at the creature in his hand. "This one has just eaten, so it probably won't strike."

The students watched in fascination.

Piccolo returned the reptile to its container. He pulled out a yellow box. "This is an Xacto kit. You should each carry one of these if you ever decide to handle venomous animals." He opened the box and showed them the equipment and the instruction booklet.

Then the professor did the unthinkable. He reached a hand into the second container, the one with the coral snake, and wiggled his fingers. The snake struck.

"Whoa!"

"Is he crazy?"

"What's he up to?"

"Bite him again! Bite him again!"

The class turned toward the outspoken student. "What?" she asked innocently. "They have to get revenge, I mean, defend themselves."

Piccolo ignored the commotion. "Whether they be cobras, black widows, rabid dogs, the same principles apply. Clean the wound immediately. The location of the bite affects your mortality rate. The closer the bite is to the brain and heart, the more likely you will die and the more quickly you need to act. Time is of the essence." The Namek scanned the room. "Where's the sink?"

"We don't have a sink, Sir."

He grunted. "Fine. We will skip cleaning the wound. On to step two." He removed the contents from the Xacto kit and read the instructions. One brow ridge arched as he fumbled with the plastic suction pump. "This is crazy. You people would be dead by the time you get to step three."

The students' eyes widened as the professor pushed on his hand, and POOSH, purple blood and venom squirted out from the two bite holes. The class clapped.

"Wow, that was great. Will you show us how to expel our blood," asked a student. "I'll give you a gold star if you do."

Piccolo gave her a quizzical look. Bribery? He would have preferred designer water. "I doubt that you humans could do such a thing. I'll show you something easier." The green being again reached for the snake.

"Yeah! Bite that roguish devil!" came a shout as the snake chomped down on the prof's hand.

"Shh!" A polite young man hushed her. His mother had taught him never to say "shut up".

"Sucking out the venom with your mouth may work but has not been proven conclusively. Keep the wound below the level of your heart. Your best bet is to stop the venom from coursing through the bloodstream. You should stop it at its source." Quicker than thought, the giant professor whacked off the afflicted hand with the cleaver conveniently forgotten by Chef Chaotzu. The appendage bounced off the podium and flopped twice before going still.

A collective groan arose from the class. The previous two days had made them too hoarse to scream.

"That's just demented!"

"I think I'm going to be sick!"

"You cut it off!"

"No matter." The Namek grunted and SPLOOSH, out popped another hand in its place. He wiggled the new sticky digits.

The students clutched their stomachs. Some turned as green as their instructor. No wonder tuition was so high. Part of the money must pay for some sort of psychological therapy.

"We can't do that!"

"What are you, a lizard?"

"How can anyone chop off their own hand with a cleaver?!"

"Fine. Let's try this again." Piccolo let himself get bitten a third time. "This time we'll pretend that you have no cutting instruments." The large green warrior then grabbed his shoulder in a tight grip. With gut-wrenching effort, and an agonizing scream to match, he tore off the limb and flung it away, as was his habit.

"Holy Dende!" The arm hit a young woman in the chest, ricocheted off of her desk, and bounced to slap her in the face - twice! The poor girl nearly crapped in her pants. She leaped from her desk and ran for the door, scattering her classmate's gold stars in the process. The other student remained unaware, as she had already used the stickers to seal her eyes and ears shut from the gruesome lecture.

After regenerating his arm, the mighty warrior gazed about the room. Most of the seats were now vacant. He noticed one girl bowed over her notes, furiously scribbling away.

"Hey, Kid, what are you writing?"

"Huh? Oh, I was just gathering notes to prove to Lord Vegeta that you don't always have to shoot horses. They can eat garlic and stuff."

Piccolo observed the strange girl. "Did you hear my lecture?"

"You said something about going immediately to the hospital."

Piccolo nodded. "Apparently, you missed rule number one. Be sure that you're already checked into the hospital when you try to prove Vegeta wrong, Kid." The warrior turned and left, his cape swishing behind him.

The polite young man stared at the mess. The professor's limbs remained oozing on the floor. As much as it disgusted him to remain in the room, he forced himself to walk over to the intercom. "Housekeeping, please come to room 101. Housekeeping, please come to room 101. Severed hand and arm to clean up." His mother had also taught him to be neat.

%%%%

Thanks for the reviews!

If I got the pronouns wrong, then it's funnier, eh?