Disclaimer: I don't own any characters fro DBZ. ^_^
I started this story a few years back, but I never finished it. I just found it again on my old computer. I still have the outline and there were supposed to be more chapters (one in particular involved Piccolo singing opera). Feel free to guess what I was on when I started this, b/c I can't figure it out. ^_^
Vegeta sighed, letting the warm water wash the sweat and dirt of the days training from his body. He hadn't felt this relaxed all day. Who would've known the wonders of a simple shower? He stood for a few minutes, letting the water run over him. Maybe these humans know something that the Saiyans did not, he thought…briefly before he shoved the thought from his mind. Turning off the water, he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel from the rack. He dried himself off and then checked his reflection in the mirror. "Not a hair out of place," he said proudly, "This new mousse is great!"
Vegeta quickly dressed himself and left the bathroom, feeling his stomach rumble with hunger. He wondered what Mrs. Briefs was preparing for dinner. He hurried downstairs and into the kitchen. No hearty aroma invades his nostrils, in fact it didn't even look as if she had began to cook. Dammit! He thought. Must I do everything myself--. Vegeta's thoughts were interrupted when he saw what was cooling in the window over the sink. NO!!!! He screamed silently. Not another apple pie! He just couldn't take it anymore. If he had to eat one more damned slice of apple pie this year, he was going to kill someone; that someone's name was Mrs. Briefs.
"Vegeta," a familiar voice called from behind him. He turned quickly. Mrs. Briefs was standing not five feet away. "I see you eyeing my apple pie, dear."
His heart thumped in his chest. He had to get out of there before she carried out her devious plan. But she was blocking the only exit; he was trapped! He looked about him for a means of defense. Spying an eggbeater on the counter by the sink, he grabbed it and pointed it directly at the woman. She seemed unfazed.
"Vegeta, if you wanted pancakes, that's all you had to say." Mrs. Briefs approached him.
Vegeta stood dumbfounded. Pancakes! What on earth is she talking about? Or maybe she's trying to trick me. He backed away, holding up his weapon, knowing the entire time that it would do him no good. What was he going to do, bludgeon her with an eggbeater? Although it wasn't a bad idea, her hair would just cushion the blow. Then he remembered it…the back door! "Um, I think Dr. Briefs wanted to see me in his laboratory," he said turning and dashing outside.
"But Vegeta, you haven't had any apple pie!"
The door slammed behind him. At last, he was free. Now to convince Dr. Briefs to talk some sense into that wife of his. Vegeta started purposefully for the old man's laboratory.
Dr. Briefs hummed to himself as he put the finishing touches on his latest invention, the…the…. Well, he hadn't thought of a name for it yet, but he was certainly eager to test it. If his invention worked correctly he would have discovered the secret to mind control. His hands tingled with excitement. All I need is a test subject and then I can have all of the hot cocoa I want. He began to laugh maniacally.
The door creaked open and Vegeta walked in. He stopped when he saw Dr. Briefs standing over an odd-looking machine laughing like a madman. "What on earth are you doing?"
Dr. Briefs stopped laughing. "Who!! What!! Nothing!! I wasn't making a diabolical plan to get hot cocoa!"
"What? What are you babbling about?"
Hmm, perhaps I should test it on Vegeta. If it worked right, Vegeta would do nothing but make him cocoa all day long…with marshmallows, and maybe a little bit of whipped cream. "Um, Vegeta, would you mind stepping over here a moment?"
"What for?"
"I just need your help; it will only take a second," he assured him.
Vegeta stepped over to where Dr. Briefs was standing. "I need to talk to you about your wife," he said seriously.
"Mmhmm," Dr. Briefs nodded, as he fit the mind control helmet onto Vegeta's head. I hope the energy makes it through his hair, he thought trying to push the helmet down as far as he could.
"You're not messing my hair, are you?" Vegeta said very suddenly, making the doctor jump a little. "It took a whole bottle of that new mousse I bought."
"Of course not," he said quickly. "Now stand still."
"Anyway, Mrs. Briefs seems to have a strange attachment to apple pie. I mean every day, for dessert, it's apple pie. You'd think she'd try something new, like Strawberry Shortcake, or a Cheese Danish, even a Fig Newton for heaven's sake! But no, everyday it's the same thing. Apple pie!"
Dr. Briefs finished fitting the helmet onto Vegeta's head, with some effort, and stepped over to the machine's controls. He pulled out his clipboard to take notes as Vegeta continued to rant about his discontent with Mrs. Briefs' dessert menu.
"And what about those Little Debbie cakes with the sprinkles, you know the ones with the vanilla frosting in the middle—"
Dr. Briefs threw the switch on the machine, sending a jolt of energy to Vegeta, causing him to stop in the middle of his reverie. Dr. Briefs watched, hoping that the Saiyan's tower of hair would not thwart his plans. Finally, after the appropriate amount of time had gone by, he pulled the switch, shutting the machine off. Vegeta didn't move; he stood staring at the doctor, as if transfixed. After a moment, he snapped out of his apparent trance.
"What was I saying?"
"Something about apple pie."
"Apple pie," Vegeta repeated, with a dreamy look in his eyes.
"Well, enough about apple pie," Dr. Briefs interrupted. "Let's talk cocoa. I like mine piping hot, in a mug, with lots of—" Vegeta stepped around the doctor and started for the door. Perhaps he has not quite recovered from that trance, thought the doctor. "Hey! Vegeta, where are you going?" He could already taste the cocoa on his tongue.
Vegeta glanced back over his shoulder. "To get some apple pie, where else?"