False Alarm, by Dickfart
It was a morning not unlike any other in life of Bulma. Bulma's son Trunks went to school. Bulma's dad fed the dinosaurs. Bulma's mom watered the garden. Bulma's beloved husband, Virginia, was an angry, pissed off, irate, and frankly not that charming grumpy Gus with constipation so horrible it was like his guts were made of cement. He also had a receding hairline. See? A perfectly normal beginning to a perfectly normal day in Bulma's life.
But there was one anomaly this morning whom, to the naked eye, would normally go unnoticed. This anomaly was the smelly freeloader and ex-Z fighter known as Yamcha, who still lived in Bulma's house for some reason. He was walking around the top floor of Capsule Corpse tired and naked that otherwise normal morning, until an unexpected enemy went and blindsided him. That enemy's name, you ask?
Gravity.
He thought he had turned into the bathroom like he always did after jerking it, but instead he turned toward the top step in a loooong series of stairs. Thirty-eight of them to be exact. Before he could register his mistake, Yamcha lost his footing and fell face first down the stairs, cracking his neck sometime during his tumble, and fully dead by the time he reached the bottom. That's right. Yamcha was so weak that he couldn't even win against stairs. I understand that, for some of you, it's inconceivable that a martial artist THAT CAN FLY wouldn't have the subconscious capacity to break his own fall, or avoid it altogether, but Yamcha had been slacking, and frankly, he's a sucky buttmonkey. This was a fitting death for earth's most unremarkable warrior.
"What the hell was that noise?" said Bulma, throwing on a robe over her favorite pale pink negligee. She hadn't even finished brewing her coffee before the crash had happened, and when it did she had a terrible, sinking feeling. She ran out toward the stairs to find Yamcha, who was dead, naked, and festering in his freshly voided bowels, a mess that now stained her favorite rug.
"OH MY GOD, HE'S DEAD!" she screamed, and fell to her knees. No matter how many times she saw this happen, it never got any easier. Vegeta rushed to her side right away, sensing something was amiss.
"What is it, woman? Is it that dolt Kakarot? Cell? Frieza? UPS?"
"Yamcha..." said Bulma with a sniffle and tears running down her face. "He's dead, Vegeta. He fell down the stairs and died. How could this have happened?"
"... who?" Vegeta asked.
"Yamcha! See? The dead guy at the foot of my stairs? Hello? Are you blind, or just stupid?"
"Oh this," said Vegeta, nudging Yamcha with the toe of his boot. "I thought it was part of the decor. An improvement over the puke green carpet, if I do say so myself."
"It's not an 'it,' Vegeta. It-HE-is YAMCHA. You know Yamcha. My ex-boyfriend. One of my oldest and closest friends. He lives in our house for fucks sake! And now he's DEAD. Can't you TELL?"
"Hmph. Well, pardon me if your weak little friend's power level is so low that I couldn't even detect his passing," said Vegeta indignantly. "Furthermore, need I remind you that I scrubbed your disgusting toilet last night because you said I would receive pancakes and a blow job the following morning as payment. I expect you to fulfill your promise to me at once! I'm through wasting time here!"
"Are you kidding me? YAMCHA IS DEAD!" Bulma hollered, spraying his eyeballs and cheeks in spittle.
Then Goku appeared.
"I sensed that Yamcha has died," said Goku, stone-faced and battle ready, gi and all. "That can only mean a threat to the entire earth has appeared and I'm ready to fight."
"Too bad," said Vegeta. "False alarm, Kakarot. Unless you wish to do battle with a flight of stairs, I'm afraid you don't have a new opponent to satisfy your boredom with."
"WHAT?" said Goku. "Oh man. I thought I'd get to have a real fight today."
"Does anyone care that Yamcha's corpse is laying in a mangled heap inside of my house?" Bulma asked.
The guys ignored her.
"Fool! Do not underestimate my powers. I am the prince of all saiyans, and that includes you. Your ass is mine, Kakarot! WE shall battle!"
"Well, in that case, bring it on, hot stuff," said Goku, smirking.
"If I win, you make me pancakes and suck my dick," said Vegeta, and he turned to Bulma. "Unlike a certain WOMAN who refuses to fulfill her promise."
"Get fucking bent, you asshole!" Bulma said.
"And if I win," Goku interjected. "You make me pancakes and then tell Chichi I won't be home tonight, because I'm gonna go train with King Kai for about nine years. It's too bad, though. She says we're having an anniversary today, but I'm not sure what kind of food that is. Maybe she'll offer you some if you're real polite."
"Kakarot, you are an idiot and I hate everything about you," said Vegeta. "Now let us do battle! I'm tired of talking!"
So Goku and Vegeta took off, and Bulma pulled her dragon radar out of her robe.
"Of course they're not going to help," she grumbled, then she glared down at Yamcha's poo-encrusted corpse one last time. "When I wish you back, you owe me a new carpet. So gross."
She then gathered all seven dragon balls, focusing so hard on the carpet Yamcha owed her that she forgot about Yamcha entirely by the time she was done collecting. Once she gathered the balls, she used her first wish for a new carpet, and her second wish for Vegeta's fucking pancakes and blow job so he'd stop whining about it. Yamcha's corpse was thrown in compost heap by a Capsule Corps robot, and then it was eaten by dinosaurs.
The End