The Oatmeal Mission
By Pikachu Hunter
Part One Of Two: Getting Rid Of It
Vegeta, still in his pajamas, being a pair of dark blue pants and a white muscle shirt, ducked behind the counter of the kitchen, and peered around the cupboard door. Bulma was busy stirring something in a pot, most likely Oatmeal. Vegeta hated Oatmeal more than he hated Frieza, Cell, Majin Buu, and Goku all together. The Oatmeal was going down.
Vegeta pulled a large walkman from his pocket, and pressed the play button. It blared the Mission: Impossible theme he'd heard in the background of a James Bond movie. Bulma looked around the kitchen. Seeing nowhere that the music could be coming from, she went back to stirring the sticky mass in the pot with a wooden spoon.
Vegeta breathed a sigh of relief, and put the headphones on his ears, decreasing the volume for any listeners outside his head. He tucked the walkman in his pocket, and crept around the side of the island, keeping out of sight of Bulma. He had to get rid of that disgusting breakfast, no matter what. He didn't want to eat anything he couldn't kill first...and you certainly couldn't kill Oatmeal.
He scrambled across the kitchen on all fours, and ducked into the dining room as Bulma look suspiciously around the corner, wooden spoon in hand and pink apron on. She again shrugged and went back to her cooking. Vegeta ran across the small room with a table in it, and crept nearer to the side door. Just a little further, and he'd be out of the house.
"Dad, what are you doing?!" Eight-year-old Trunks tugged on his father's shirt.
"Er...I'm...practicing." Answered Vegeta, shocked that his son had seen him in his 'casual' camouflage. Trunks squinted at the black paint under the man's eyes and the leaves in his hair. "Were you playing in the backyard at midnight again? You look tired, and--"
"Shh! Okay, just promise not to tell, and I'll let you in on what I'm really doing." Vegeta put a finger to his mouth to signal silence as a request. Trunks nodded. "What is it?"
"Your mother is making Oatmeal for breakfast..."
"No, not Oatmeal! Anything but that! Oh, spare us of the terrible--"
"Shh!" Vegeta clamped his hand over his son's mouth, smothering the cries of despair. "I have a plan to get rid of the Oatmeal, but I need your help." Vegeta said, turning off his walkman for more concentration. Trunks shook his head. "Nu-uh, last time I helped you do something like this, I ended up grounded for a week. I am not putting chocolate pudding in the washing machine again." He refused.
"No, no, this is completely harmless, trust me!" Vegeta said, trying to convince the boy.
"What do you want me to do?" Trunks wondered. Vegeta clapped his hand on his son's back, making the boy cough and wheeze for air. His super-human strength was a little much to put on his son without suppressing it.
"That's the spirit! Now, all you have to do is..." Vegeta whispered the plan in his son's listening ear, and they laughed after the plan was discussed. They danced in joyous circles. "No Oatmeal this morning, no Oatmeal this morning!" The sang.
"Quick, go!" Vegeta shoved his son in the direction of the front door. Trunks ran outside, and over his lawn to the neighbors house, where the Son family lived. "Hey Goten!" Trunks called out while knocking on the door. Goten's mother, Chi-Chi, opened the door.
"Just a minute..." she yawned sleepily, seeing the boy on the step. "Goten, Trunks is here!" She called to the table, not too far from where the front door was. A seven-year-old rushed to the door, and his mother walked tiredly away. "Hi Trunks!" Goten waved, with his other hand in his pocket. Trunks looked around for possible suspects who could be listening for the enemy, being his mother at the moment.
"I need you to help me."
"With what?" Goten asked.
"...My mother is cooking Oatmeal for breakfast, and Dad has a plan to get rid of it. But we need you. You are the key to getting rid of the terror that is being slopped into bowls at this very moment. Will you help us?" Trunks asked. He had definitely inherited some strange habits and moods from his father, and his mother's drama queen attitude being influenced on him didn't make matters any better. Goten nodded. "Just as long as I don't end up keeping your chocolate pudding water balloons in my room. I got in really big trouble when Mom found them! They got all over the carpet!"
"I know, I know. I got in trouble too. But this has nothing to do with chocolate." Trunks assured his friend.
"What?!" Goten yelled, attempting to slam the door on the other boy's face. "No chocolate, no deal!" He said through the part of the door that Trunks had managed to keep open with his foot. He kicked Trunks' foot out of the way, and locked the door.
"Fine, I'll do it myself." Trunks said, walking back to his own house. He sucked in as much air as he could, and hoped to Kami he would think of a good excuse when asked for one. He slowly took his hand up in a fist, and knocked on the door.
Meanwhile, Bulma was happily stirring the Oatmeal, which was beginning to look discolored and emit a pungent aroma, displeasing to the senses. Vegeta, around the corner, winced and held his breath. Then Bulma heard a knock on the door. She rushed out of the kitchen to answer it. Opening the door, she was surprised to see her own son standing on the porch. "Trunks? What are you doing outside?" Bulma asked.
"Uh...er...Goten's in the back yard, he broke his arm! Come quickly!" Trunks lied, trying to make a concerned and frightened face to convince his mother.
"Oh, Kami!" Bulma followed her son into the yard. Trunks, while opening the gate to the back, sent a blast of electricity into the air with his incredible half- Saiyan abilities, inherited from his powerful father, who was once the prince of the alien warrior race. The blast of Chi was the signal for his father to get rid of the Oatmeal while Bulma was being distracted.
Inside, Vegeta heard the crack of Trunks' warning. Bulma was being taken care of. He crept into the kitchen and snatched the pot with the steaming substance inside. "Haha, mission successful!" He shouted in happiness as he poured the contents of the pot into the garden. Then Vegeta stared at the slush...did it just...move? Twitch...?
"Uh..." He swallowed and rubbed his eyes. He wasn't seeing this...but there it was! The Oatmeal was a mutant warrior! It took the form of a large grasshopper. "AHH, IT'S A BUG!" Vegeta screamed, running into the house armed with only a pot. He locked the door, leaving the monster to his wife and son, who had just entered the back yard, where the monster was set to destroy.
"What is that thing?!" Trunks looked at the rainbow mass of ooze, which was slimly slipping nearer to himself and his mother. Bulma gasped, and ripped off her apron, then threw it over the creature. "Die, pest!" She stomped on the being under the apron. It screeched, and scampered away, taking cover under the deck.
"That's that...now where's Goten?" Bulma looked at her bewildered son. He'd never known she was so good at fighting off evil creatures...they could have used her in the previous battles with the evil Majin Buu, who had wreaked terror upon the Earth, and even destroyed it, not that long ago.
"Uh...heh!" Trunks smiled and put his hand behind his head. Bulma saw this face meant he'd been lying all along. How...like her son, to do something like that. But why? Why now?
-------------------
Next Chapter: The Truth Comes Out!
By Pikachu Hunter
Part One Of Two: Getting Rid Of It
Vegeta, still in his pajamas, being a pair of dark blue pants and a white muscle shirt, ducked behind the counter of the kitchen, and peered around the cupboard door. Bulma was busy stirring something in a pot, most likely Oatmeal. Vegeta hated Oatmeal more than he hated Frieza, Cell, Majin Buu, and Goku all together. The Oatmeal was going down.
Vegeta pulled a large walkman from his pocket, and pressed the play button. It blared the Mission: Impossible theme he'd heard in the background of a James Bond movie. Bulma looked around the kitchen. Seeing nowhere that the music could be coming from, she went back to stirring the sticky mass in the pot with a wooden spoon.
Vegeta breathed a sigh of relief, and put the headphones on his ears, decreasing the volume for any listeners outside his head. He tucked the walkman in his pocket, and crept around the side of the island, keeping out of sight of Bulma. He had to get rid of that disgusting breakfast, no matter what. He didn't want to eat anything he couldn't kill first...and you certainly couldn't kill Oatmeal.
He scrambled across the kitchen on all fours, and ducked into the dining room as Bulma look suspiciously around the corner, wooden spoon in hand and pink apron on. She again shrugged and went back to her cooking. Vegeta ran across the small room with a table in it, and crept nearer to the side door. Just a little further, and he'd be out of the house.
"Dad, what are you doing?!" Eight-year-old Trunks tugged on his father's shirt.
"Er...I'm...practicing." Answered Vegeta, shocked that his son had seen him in his 'casual' camouflage. Trunks squinted at the black paint under the man's eyes and the leaves in his hair. "Were you playing in the backyard at midnight again? You look tired, and--"
"Shh! Okay, just promise not to tell, and I'll let you in on what I'm really doing." Vegeta put a finger to his mouth to signal silence as a request. Trunks nodded. "What is it?"
"Your mother is making Oatmeal for breakfast..."
"No, not Oatmeal! Anything but that! Oh, spare us of the terrible--"
"Shh!" Vegeta clamped his hand over his son's mouth, smothering the cries of despair. "I have a plan to get rid of the Oatmeal, but I need your help." Vegeta said, turning off his walkman for more concentration. Trunks shook his head. "Nu-uh, last time I helped you do something like this, I ended up grounded for a week. I am not putting chocolate pudding in the washing machine again." He refused.
"No, no, this is completely harmless, trust me!" Vegeta said, trying to convince the boy.
"What do you want me to do?" Trunks wondered. Vegeta clapped his hand on his son's back, making the boy cough and wheeze for air. His super-human strength was a little much to put on his son without suppressing it.
"That's the spirit! Now, all you have to do is..." Vegeta whispered the plan in his son's listening ear, and they laughed after the plan was discussed. They danced in joyous circles. "No Oatmeal this morning, no Oatmeal this morning!" The sang.
"Quick, go!" Vegeta shoved his son in the direction of the front door. Trunks ran outside, and over his lawn to the neighbors house, where the Son family lived. "Hey Goten!" Trunks called out while knocking on the door. Goten's mother, Chi-Chi, opened the door.
"Just a minute..." she yawned sleepily, seeing the boy on the step. "Goten, Trunks is here!" She called to the table, not too far from where the front door was. A seven-year-old rushed to the door, and his mother walked tiredly away. "Hi Trunks!" Goten waved, with his other hand in his pocket. Trunks looked around for possible suspects who could be listening for the enemy, being his mother at the moment.
"I need you to help me."
"With what?" Goten asked.
"...My mother is cooking Oatmeal for breakfast, and Dad has a plan to get rid of it. But we need you. You are the key to getting rid of the terror that is being slopped into bowls at this very moment. Will you help us?" Trunks asked. He had definitely inherited some strange habits and moods from his father, and his mother's drama queen attitude being influenced on him didn't make matters any better. Goten nodded. "Just as long as I don't end up keeping your chocolate pudding water balloons in my room. I got in really big trouble when Mom found them! They got all over the carpet!"
"I know, I know. I got in trouble too. But this has nothing to do with chocolate." Trunks assured his friend.
"What?!" Goten yelled, attempting to slam the door on the other boy's face. "No chocolate, no deal!" He said through the part of the door that Trunks had managed to keep open with his foot. He kicked Trunks' foot out of the way, and locked the door.
"Fine, I'll do it myself." Trunks said, walking back to his own house. He sucked in as much air as he could, and hoped to Kami he would think of a good excuse when asked for one. He slowly took his hand up in a fist, and knocked on the door.
Meanwhile, Bulma was happily stirring the Oatmeal, which was beginning to look discolored and emit a pungent aroma, displeasing to the senses. Vegeta, around the corner, winced and held his breath. Then Bulma heard a knock on the door. She rushed out of the kitchen to answer it. Opening the door, she was surprised to see her own son standing on the porch. "Trunks? What are you doing outside?" Bulma asked.
"Uh...er...Goten's in the back yard, he broke his arm! Come quickly!" Trunks lied, trying to make a concerned and frightened face to convince his mother.
"Oh, Kami!" Bulma followed her son into the yard. Trunks, while opening the gate to the back, sent a blast of electricity into the air with his incredible half- Saiyan abilities, inherited from his powerful father, who was once the prince of the alien warrior race. The blast of Chi was the signal for his father to get rid of the Oatmeal while Bulma was being distracted.
Inside, Vegeta heard the crack of Trunks' warning. Bulma was being taken care of. He crept into the kitchen and snatched the pot with the steaming substance inside. "Haha, mission successful!" He shouted in happiness as he poured the contents of the pot into the garden. Then Vegeta stared at the slush...did it just...move? Twitch...?
"Uh..." He swallowed and rubbed his eyes. He wasn't seeing this...but there it was! The Oatmeal was a mutant warrior! It took the form of a large grasshopper. "AHH, IT'S A BUG!" Vegeta screamed, running into the house armed with only a pot. He locked the door, leaving the monster to his wife and son, who had just entered the back yard, where the monster was set to destroy.
"What is that thing?!" Trunks looked at the rainbow mass of ooze, which was slimly slipping nearer to himself and his mother. Bulma gasped, and ripped off her apron, then threw it over the creature. "Die, pest!" She stomped on the being under the apron. It screeched, and scampered away, taking cover under the deck.
"That's that...now where's Goten?" Bulma looked at her bewildered son. He'd never known she was so good at fighting off evil creatures...they could have used her in the previous battles with the evil Majin Buu, who had wreaked terror upon the Earth, and even destroyed it, not that long ago.
"Uh...heh!" Trunks smiled and put his hand behind his head. Bulma saw this face meant he'd been lying all along. How...like her son, to do something like that. But why? Why now?
-------------------
Next Chapter: The Truth Comes Out!