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Dear Hormones,
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I regret the fact that we have never been formally introduced till now, and am writing this letter to rectify that. I was very young when I was taken in by Frieza, and the drugs provided by his scientists repressed you all along these long years because of the lizard's fear of me repopulating the Saiyan race. So naturally I have not felt your presence till now, a whole year after the Namek incident, when all traces of the repressing chemicals have worn off.
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This brings us straight to the cause of today's correspondence. I simply cannot leave this without being addressed. As I mentioned, I am having some difficulty, shall we say, accommodating your presence. Do not get me wrong. I am glad for your long-awaited arrival. But I am having difficulties growing accustomed to you whenever The Wom-ahem, any annoying blue haired, weak (but curvy) individual belonging to the opposite gender comes within my visual/auditory/olfactory range. Before, this situation would not have merited enough when you were dormant. But now that you are free, you do not seem to have any notion of control. You just go on, raging full-speed ahead. You need to learn the meaning of "there is a time and a place for everything." You start going all wonky at the worst possible times, especially when I'm wearing my Spandex Suit.
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SPANDEX. S-P-A-N-D-E-X that expands according to the contours of the body! Honestly, what is there to get all excited about her back-side outlined faithfully by her oh-so-tight-and-molding tiny red dress? And do not say that it is The Woman's fault for walking in front of me; sure, a lot of her thighs and cleavage were exposed tantalizingly to my view, and my palms were itchi—no! No. What am I doing? Just…just ignore that last bit. I do not want to muck up my letter with White-out or scribbles, nor do I wish to begin anew, so, just ignore that last part. As it is, the last part is totally your fault, and the very reason why I am writing this letter!
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You are NOT to do funny things inside my tummy every time she looks up innocently with her enormous and endless sparkling sapphire orbs – ugh! [Am I turning into a poet now? Why should I, the Mighty Prince of All Saiyans even think of something so ridiculous? {Am I not supposed to train harder with my full concentration to beat Kakkarott and that Purple-haired Punk? Just wait till I Ascend, and then nobody can stop me from killing these weaklings! (That reminds me, I'll kill that Scar-Face a second time, even more painfully)}]
Okay, what I want to tell you is, when She is bending down to repair anything in my GR, or when she looks up directly at me with her plump pink lips parted in an 'O', you will NOT crowd my Royal Head with vivid and lewd images of the said subjects in different and totally uncorrelated circumstances. I have observed that these thoughts tend to linger in my mind and disrupt my training and even visit me in my sleep to increase my embarrassment even more!
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I do not want you running rampant in my system like an unchained yard dog. You need to learn discipline and how to obey me when I tell you to get out of the street and back into your house---metaphorically speaking, of course. When I say to stop roving around in my blood stream and to get where you are not going to cause me trouble, you had better do it. I do not want you lingering, either. You get up and you go. No questions, no protests. You are a guest in my body, and if it comes to it, I can blast you back into the glands from whence you came. I will do it. You know I will, so do not push me, and I will not push you.
Look, I am not inconsiderate, quite benevolent in fact. And I am growing tired of this one-sided conversation with the chemicals in my own body. So as compensation, I will give you full freedom in one area – you can carry on fueling my hatred of that Yam-yam or Dim-sum or whatever he is, as much as you like. Happy now?
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I believe I have made myself sufficiently clear. Is everything copasetic? I certainly hope so. This arrangement simply cannot survive without our mutual agreement to not disturb each other from our usual activities. I thrive on order, and right now, you are the epitome of chaos. I hope that after you receive this message, you will make an effort to alter your activities to accommodate my preference for stability. These are the terms of our future cohabitation, so I hope everything comes out looking satisfactory to you. I am certain that if we cooperate and do not try to undermine or overtake the other, we should get along quite well.
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Until we meet again (which I have a feeling will be shortly, since I detect The Woman's ki heading this way), I wish you well.
Sincerely,
Vegeta,
The Prince of ALL Saiyans.
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P.S. Has she changed her hairstyle? Is that her new perfume, or has her smell got stronger? And is she wearing that tiny red dress? Why is she looking at me with those blue, blue irises? Did her lips just part in wonder to form that delicious little 'O'?
She is now directly in front of me, why can't I think straight and is that my heart hammering so hard against my battle-hardened chest?
She is moving still closer… *gulp*
-Veggie.
P.S.2: omnipotent Porunga owns neither me, nor my hormones.