Trouble in Satan City

A Dragon Ball Z fanfic by Patworx

Saiyaman, who are you?

Videl was sitting on the couch in her living room eating cereal and lost in deep thought. The news was on TV and a middle aged anchorman was describing in great detail how the Great Saiyaman had yet again saved the day.

This isn't fair. I am the town hero, not him. I'm the one who protects the people. I'm the one who stops the criminals. I'm the one who should get all the media recognition. How did this happen? How is it that some super powered freak can just come out of nowhere and steal the spotlight from me? For God's sake, I'm the daughter of the man who killed Cell.

The middle aged anchorman's words interrupted Videl's thoughts. "Saiyaman has become a major celebrity since he first appeared," said the anchorman. "He has been saving the day left and right, and the people of Satan City are very grateful." Videl grimaced at the TV. "This is crap", she muttered.

"In other news," the anchorman continued, "there is going to be a special event held here in Satan City. It seems that a group of western conservatives have flown into town for a special rally right here in this city. This group formed back in 2009 to challenge their current president."

With those last few words, the view of the camera tilted slightly to the right to reveal an image of a light skinned black man with short black hair wearing a suit and tie. The man looked to be in his late forties, maybe early fifties.

"The rally will be hosted by a prominent conservative political talk show host named Ben Gleck," said the anchorman, to which the image of another man to place of the image of the world leader. This image was of a white man whose hair was brown with white on the sides. He was wearing a suit and tie and he had a slightly deranged expression on his face.

"Gleck announced that he would be holding this rally a month ago on his TV news show," said the anchorman, who was replaced with a clip of the deranged-looking man sitting at a desk in what looked like a typical news studio.

"Ladies and gentleman, I am thoroughly convinced that Armageddon is upon us," he said in a soft shaky voice that sounded as if he could barely contain himself. He then raised both his fist and his voice as he yelled, "And it is our Muslim antichrist president who is leading us there!"

The camera view zoomed out as Ben Gleck left his chair and walked to a blackboard. He picked up a piece of chalk and frantically wrote the words "Our government" in the center of the blackboard. He then drew a circle around the words.

"Our government is run by the antichrist," he said as he wrote the word "antichrist" at the top of the blackboard. He circled the word "antichrist" and drew a line where "Our government" was written which ended with an arrow pointing at where "antichrist" was written.

"The antichrist works for the devil," he said as he wrote the word "devil" to the right of the blackboard. He circled the word "devil" and drew a line where "antichrist" was written which ended with an arrow pointing at where "devil" was written.

"The devil's name is Satan," he said as he wrote the word "Satan" at the bottom of the blackboard. He circled the word "Satan" and drew a line where "devil" was written which ended with an arrow pointing at where "Satan" was written.

"And there's a town in Japan called Satan City," he said as he wrote the words "Satan City" to the left of the blackboard. He circled the words "Satan" and drew a line where "Satan" was written which ended with an arrow pointing at where "Satan City" was written.

"Which brings me to my big announcement," said Gleck, with a gleam in his eye. "Using the logic that I have just demonstrated, I have come to the conclusion that Satan City must be the earthly foothold of the devil himself! I mean, isn't it obvious? It is called 'Satan City'! And that is why on October 29th, exactly one month from today, I will be holding a special rally in Satan City to show that we, the Americans, oppose the devil. I encourage everyone out there to join me! We must show Satan that we refuse to let him curse us with the evils of socialized medicine!"

Gleck sprinted back to his desk and the camera zoomed back in to focus on his face.

"Every day, I think about what this nation has become," he said, his voice sounding soft and shaky again. "As I have said before, I am not a journalist. But that's okay, because the real journalists are out there covering up for the government's lies."

Videl just sat there, confused.

What a freak. Is this guy really taken seriously in the west? I sure hope not.

All of a sudden, Gleck jumped up on the desk, kneeled down, and began to sob uncontrollably. "WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE . . . AND IT'S THE LIBERALS' FAULT . . . THEY'RE RUINING EVERYTHING . . . WHY WON'T SOMEBODY LISTEN TO ME . . . !"

That must have been the end of the clip, because Videl once again found herself staring at the middle aged anchorman, whose jaw had dropped to the floor in confusion.

"Uh . . . ," he stammered, "we'll be back after a word from our sponsor . . . I guess."

Videl shook her head in disapproval and turned the TV off with the remote.

I'd better get to school.

It seemed like a pretty typical school day at first, but then came history class. Mr. Yang was discussing King Piccolo's second reign of terror.

"To this day," explained Mr. Yang, "we aren't really sure what happened to King Piccolo. Experts say that what most likely happened was that he was killed by military forces."

"BULLCRAP!"

Everyone turned in the direction the word came from to see an embarrassed Gohan covering his mouth, clearly regretful about what he just said. Gohan was usually a great student, and it was surprising to see him to be so openly disruptive.

Mr. Yang wasn't happy. He pointed at Gohan.

"Gohan! Principal's office! Now!" barked Mr. Yang.

Gohan awkwardly left the classroom with his hand covering his face. Mr. Yang let out a sigh.

"I'll never understand these crazy kids," he said quietly.

He continued to discuss King Piccolo for about five more minutes when suddenly everyone heard loud footsteps coming down the hall. Everyone, even Mr. Yang wondered who it was. Suddenly, the classroom door opened and a skinny police officer who looked to be in his mid twenties ran into ran into the room. Everyone in the class had a good idea why he was here: the cops needed Videl's help again.

"Videl!" I'm glad I found you!" said the policeman. "You know those protestors from the west that are in town today? Well, they're causing all kinds of commotion. They're pestering people, they're carrying guns everywhere, and many are rioting outside City Hall. Apparently, they think that the mayor is the devil, and they keep yelling for him to go back to hell. We've tried holding them off on our own, but there's just too many of them. We need your help."

"Of course," said Videl.

She followed the policeman to the front door of the school. As they reached the front door, Videl noticed Gohan sitting outside the principal's office. Gohan looked up as he saw her approach and turned his head to watch her leave. Videl got into the police car with the policeman and they drove off into town.

Videl sat in the passenger's seat while the policeman drove into town. They rode for about fifteen minutes before they started to see the troublemaking westerners, but it wasn't long before they surrounded the police car, and blocked the traffic.

Videl noticed that these protesters seemed to have some similar qualities. Most of them were fairly overweight. They had a tendency to be middle-aged, if not older. The majority were male. Almost all were Caucasian. And they were running through the streets like chickens with their heads cut off. Many of them were carrying guns. Some of them were holding up pictures of their president with a Hitler mustache. And one or two of them were wearing T-shirts with the words "Screw the Government!" written on them. Most of them were screaming, but Videl couldn't clearly hear the exact words from within the police car, though she was able to make out the word "socialism" once.

"Is there anything we can do about the traffic?" Videl asked the policeman.

"I'm afraid not."

"Well, then it looks like I'm walking."

Videl got out of the car and began to flail her hands up in the air looking to get the crowd's attention. Unfortunately, the crowd was so chaotic that none of them noticed her. She was soon lost in the crowd, unable to find the policeman she came with. She yelled as loud as she could and made as much hand movement as she could to try to get the policeman's attention.

She began to hear a loud beeping sound coming from somewhere in the crowd. She followed the sound, trying to get through the crowd of screaming protestors. It was a major struggle. It was like she was playing a game of Marco Polo. But she finally made it to the police car, panting heavily.

"These people are crazy!" wheezed Videl.

"I know. That's the problem" said the policeman bitterly.

"Normally, I'd fight, but I can't take on every single one of them. What do we do?"

"Look, I know that this might sound stupid, but I think that we should ditch the car."

Videl was surprised by this idea. "But what if we can't find it? How do we get out of the crowds?"

"I know for a fact that there's a donut shop nearby. I think we can get to it on foot, even with all the confusion."

Videl didn't like the idea, but she knew it was the best that they could do given the circumstances. They both got out of the police car and Videl watched the young policeman very carefully as he led her to the local donut shop.

Videl was hoping that as soon as she entered the donut shop, there would be less westerners screaming so that she could concentrate long enough to find a solution to this predicament. Unfortunately, when she and the young policeman opened the door to Xiang's Donut Temple, the first thing they saw was a Caucasian man screaming at the dark-haired counter girl. This man was fat, grey haired, bald on the top, and looked to be in his mid 60s. He wore a white T-Shirt with overalls and hunting boots. He was carrying a gun.

"I said; get me some donuts, foreigner!"

The counter girl, who didn't appear to be much older than Videl, looked almost as white as the man standing before her. She kept on staring at the gun he was holding. She was struggling to find the words to say to this man.

"S-sir, I already t-told you that you c-cannot bring a gun into this establish-"

"Don't give me that crap, you liberal foreigner! It's my right to carry a gun wherever I want, and there's no way I'm going to let a bunch of socialists from Vietnam tell me otherwise!"

The girl at the counter was now as white as a sheet. She just kept looking at that gun as if it could go off at any moment. Videl decided that she had seen enough. She slowly walked up to the angry man and tapped him on the shoulder. As if on impulse, he quickly turned around with his gun raised, causing the counter girl to flinch briefly.

"Sir," Videl said in a calm but firm voice, "quit pestering this girl. This place doesn't allow guns, so if you're not going to put yours down, then leave."

"Mind your own business," the man sneered. "You can't force a man to give up his gun in a donut shop! It goes against the values of my country!"

"Well, this isn't your country, so get out!"

"Try and make me, you no-good commie!"

Videl swiftly karate chopped the gun out of the man's hand. Before he had time to pick it up, Videl punched the man on the left of his face, causing him to lean back slightly. While he was caught off guard, Videl took the opportunity to deal a spin-kick to the right side of his ribcage that sent him flying against the wall. It took about a half a minute for him to get back on his feet again.

"Lousy foreigner," he muttered. He awkwardly stumbled to the door and, shooting Videl a venomous look, he left the donut shop, seamlessly blending into the chaos outside.

Videl took a few steps forward toward the counter girl, who looked to be on the verge of tears.

"Are you alright?" Videl calmly asked the scared girl.

"Yes. Thank you, Videl. You are every bit as brave as your father."

"Thanks for the show, Videl," a voice called out from the corner of the donut shop.

In the corner of Xiang's Donut Temple, taking up two booths, were six policemen and one policewoman. The man who had just spoken was the police chief, who was holding a walkie-talkie in his hand. The young cop who was with Videl quickly sat down to join his fellow officers as Videl walked up to the chief.

"What's the situation, chief?"

"Well, there's a bunch of crazy protestors in front of the mayor's office. My men aren't able to control these people. They just do whatever their whack job leader tells them to. I've got Mayor Li on my walkie-talkie right now, and he's scared out of his mind."

"Can I speak to him?"

"Sure. He'll probably feel better knowing you're here."

Videl took the walkie-talkie from the chief's hand and held it to her ear.

"Mayor Li? It's me, Videl."

"VIDEL! THANK GOODNESS!" The mayor sounded terrified and was yelling so loud that Videl moved the walkie-talkie about an inch from her face in shock for a second before continuing to listen.

"I SHOULD NEVER HAVE ALLOWED THESE PEOPLE TO COME HERE! THEY ARE TOTALLY INSANE! THEY THINK THAT I'M THE DEVIL JUST BECAUSE OF THE TOWN'S NAME! I TRIED EXPLAINING THAT THIS TOWN WAS NAMED AFTER YOUR DAD, BUT THEY DON'T LISTEN! IT'S LIKE THEY ARE COMPLETELY OUT OF TOUCH WITH REALITY! AND THAT GLECK CHARACTER JUST ENCOURAGES IT! THEY JUST REFUSE TO LEAVE AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!"

"Mayor, get a hold of yourself," urged Videl to the scared politician. "We'll be there as soon as we can, okay. Just remain calm until then."

Videl turned off the walkie-talkie and handed it back to the police chief. The chief frowned in disappointment as he looked out the window.

"I'm afraid that getting to the mayor's office won't be so easy," said the chief. "The crowd out there is too big. We just can't get through them. "

As Videl glanced at the crowd in frustration, she suddenly came up with an idea.

"Chief," she asked slyly, "do you have a megaphone?"

Thousands of protestors were screaming in the streets of Satan City. They were running left and right, shouting about their future. Above it all, a voice could be heard.

"ATTENTION! ATTENTION!"

Some of the protestors turned to see the young counter girl with a megaphone, looking nervous. This hardly affected the persistent protestors, who just carried on with expressing their anger.

"COME TO XIANG'S DONUT SHOP NOW, FOR SOME FREE DONUTS!"

The words "free donuts" were enough to get the attention of every protester for miles.

"I REPEAT, COME TO XIANG'S DONUT SHOP NOW, FOR SOME FREE DONUTS!"

The ravenous protesters ran as fast as they could to the small donut shop, eager to sink their teeth into some frost covered donuts. This crowd wasn't easily distracted from their goal of defeating Satan, but they were suckers for food. Even if it was foreign food.

The once-disorganized crowd was running in the exact same direction now, barely noticing the police car that was driving in the opposite direction. The car was driven by the police chief with another policeman in the passenger seat. Videl and another cop sat in the back. The crowd was still enormous, but now that they were all going in one direction, they were much easier to get passed. It wasn't long before the crowd started to get smaller. The smaller they got, the faster the police car was able to move. Eventually, there was no crowd, and Videl and her police companions were driving on a clear road.

"We're finally out of that crowd of crazy! Awesome!" said Videl.

"I know," sighed the chief "and there's only about ten more miles before we reach the mayor's office."

It wasn't long before they started to stumble upon the angry protestors yet again. When they got to the mayor's office, there were over a hundred protestors in the front of the building standing around a large platform that had been built just for the occasion. Standing on that platform was Ben Gleck, the man behind the whole event.

Gleck held a microphone in his hand, causing his voice to boom into the ears of the protestors, as well as the cops.

"My fellow human beings," yelled Gleck, "we shall not be silenced! We are God's chosen people! We are the true patriots! It is our destiny to purge this world of Satan and socialism!"

The crowd roared at the word socialism.

"Today will be a day that will live on in history as a day of triumph and glory! We shall put a stop to the fascism that has plagued our country ever since our antichrist president took it away from us! The government has tried to suppress us with socialized medicine and tax increases! And that is why we need to force Satan back to the depths of hell from whence he came! WE ARE THE GREATEST PEOPLE ON EARTH!"

The crowd cheered again. This time they were so loud that Videl couldn't hear herself think. As the cheers started to die down, Videl continued to stare at Ben Gleck in confusion.

"What on earth is he talking about," Videl muttered, asking nobody in particular.

"I wish I knew," said the policeman who was sitting next to Videl shaking his head.

The chief looked on at all the madness with an analytical expression on his face before he finally spoke.

"We need to find a way to get this crowd's attention off of that nutcase on the stage so that we can try to communicate with them and convince them to leave, or at least get them to calm down."

Suddenly, Videl had an idea. She got out of the car and climbed on to its roof. The chief opened the window of the driver's seat and looked up at Videl in astonishment.

"What are you doing Videl?"

"Listen to me. I need you to drive towards the crowd and stop abruptly."

"What?"

"Just trust me! I know what I'm doing!"

The chief shrugged and rolled the window back up.

The car drove, swiftly and suddenly, towards the crowd. As it stopped, Videl jumped off the hood of the car with her left leg in the air. She flew over the angry crowd and as she landed her foot collided with Ben Gleck's head. He fell to the ground, unconscious. The crowd booed and hissed at Videl the moment she landed on the stage. After catching her breath, Videl took the microphone from the hand of the unconscious Glenn Beck and began to speak in to it.

"Everybody calm down!" she pleaded.

"Don't tell us to calm down, you lousy foreigner!" cried a man in the crowd.

"Yeah," yelled an old woman with a screechy voice. "We're not falling for the government's evil plan to turn us into socialists! Now get out of our country!"

"This isn't your country you idiot!" Videl blurted out. She knew that calling one of them an idiot probably wasn't going to calm them down, but she couldn't help it. She just couldn't take any more of these people.

The crowd grew even more restless. A bald fifty something among the crowd decided to speak.

"That is so like you liberals! You call us idiots because you're all a bunch of elitist snobs who are out of touch with the working class people!"

"No!" screamed Videl in frustration. "I'm calling you idiots because you are idiots! Your stupid movement is a joke! All you people do is scream about socialism and act like your government is plotting against you! You whine and complain about political issues but you don't know the first thing about politics! And you dismiss anyone who calls you out as a crazy liberal elitist! You want your country to be fixed? Well, maybe it could get fixed if you people would just SHUT UP!"

After hearing Videl's words, the protestors became angrier than ever, and there were so many of them talking that Videl could hardly hear what any of them were saying. She was unsure of what she could do to stop them until she looked up in the sky and noticed an object heading towards her and the crowd. When she realized what it was, she began to feel a strange combination of relief and resentment.

What Videl saw in the sky was no object: it was a man. He was a teenager. He wore a black and orange helmet with two small antennas sticking out of the front sides. He also wore a green tunic, a red cape, black tights around his arms and legs and white boots that were gold at the points.

"Saiyaman . . ." Videl growled. "It figures he'd show up."

The superhero flew closer and closer to the angry crowd huddled around the stage, and within five seconds he was standing there in front of the crowd. He stuck his arms up by his elbows and raised his right leg.

"You angry fools! I command you to go back to your country now, for I am the Great Saiyaman, Champion of Justice!"

There was a moment of silence as the crowd stared at Saiyaman, not quite sure what to think of him. Finally, one of the protestors spoke.

"Well look at that. It appears that the government has sent a super powered homosexual to stop us." The crowd started to talk over each other again.

"What? But I'm not a homosexual!" Saiyaman said indignantly. But the crowd continued to make various remarks to Saiyaman.

"Get out of here, liberal!"

"Take off that fruity outfit and leave!"

"We're not giving any handouts around here!"

"The socialist agenda will never prevail!"

It was hard to see Saiyaman's facial expressions under that helmet, but Videl could tell that Saiyaman was rapidly losing patience with these people. Saiyaman stuck out his left arm and raised an index finger to the crowd.

"If you refuse to leave, then I'm afraid I'll have to force you to leave."

"I'd like to see you try, pinko!" said a man who was standing at the front of the audience.

Saiyaman smiled at the man. It looked for a moment like he started to fly toward the man, but he moved so fast that he quickly disappeared from view. What happened next was very confusing to Videl. The man who just called Saiyaman a pinko suddenly dropped to the floor, clutching his stomach in pain. In less than a second, the woman standing next to that man also dropped to the floor clutching her stomach. The protestors were dropping like dominoes, and almost as quickly as the last one fell, Saiyaman reappeared on stage in the exact spot he had been standing before.

Videl just stared at him in awe. She couldn't believe it. He'd saved the day yet again. The protestors groaned in pain as the police started putting them in handcuffs. The chief took out his walkie-talkie and called for more police cars to carry them away.

"Uhh . . . my head . . ." came a voice from the stage.

Ben Gleck just regained consciousness, and just as he started to stand up, the great Saiyaman walked up to him.

"Sir, you are a raving lunatic. Please leave this country now."

But Gleck just laughed in his face.

"You can't make me go!"

Right after Gleck said this, the two cops, without the chief, each grabbed him by an arm.

"No, but they can," Saiyaman said with a smile.

"Thanks for the help Saiyaman, but we'll take it from here," said the policeman on Gleck's left.

"It's back to your home country for you, you whacko" he said turning his head to Gleck. They carried Gleck off the stage, leaving only Videl and Saiyaman. Saiyaman walked up to Videl and looked her in the eye.

"Is something bothering you?" he asked.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

Saiyaman frowned at the question.

"I'm afraid you can never know."

He flew away leaving Videl alone.

Videl watched the evening news later that night. Once again, the middle aged anchorman was gushing about how great Saiyaman was, and Videl was turning green with envy.

"The protestors were going wild today, but once again Saiyaman stepped up and saved the day. I'm sure you are all as grateful as I am that-"

Videl turned off the TV. She couldn't take it anymore.

I'll unmask you one day, Saiyaman. Mark my words.