By: Fukushuu
(A/N : MW AHA HA AH AHA! Well, that's about it. A fic based on nothing but a whim. It IS supposed to be funny. If you no likey, you can flamey!
I don't own anyone but me, and...EVERYONE I PUT A STICKER ON!!! MW AHA HAHA HA HAAH!
Oh, yeah, and something's messed-up with the computer I'm using, so quotation marks will look like this : « The. »
SORRY!)
Piccolo hovered nicely, looking pretty and everything. (Insert all possible gushy things you can say about him. .The list will go on for a while.) He meditated, thought about Gohan's past, how he trained him, how quickly the kis was growing up, why he had no reproductive organs, you know the drill. When all of a sudden--
« MR. PICCOLO!!! » sounded throughout the entire sky.
« What the hell?! » the Namek yelled back.
« Oh...NOTHING! » sounded back.
« OKAY THEN! » Piccolo shouted. Meditating resumed, and life went on as normal.
Dende stood next to Piccolo, kicking him in the shins. « So, what do you want to do today? » he asked, continuing his daily exercise. (He was trying to develop strong leg muscles by weakening the older Namek's.)
« Oo! Oo! » squealed Mr. PoPo from behind the young Guardian, his hand raised and waving around. « Ooo! I have a good idea! »
Dende gave one final REALLY good kick before pausing long enough to look at Mr. PoPo. « No, Mr. PoPo, we will not write self-help books for people who have addictions to self-help books. We can't make a sequel and make profits off it, remember? »
Mr. PoPo sighed, and trudged hard-heartedly back to the magical kitchen that no-one ever sees to make food for everyone who shows up.
Piccolo yawned.because I'M the author, and I can do what I want with him! He yawned again to prove my point. « Let's go to hot-springs. We've both heard of them before, and never seen them or experienced then either. I've heard it costs money, so, how much money do we have? »
Dende pulled off his tiny yet KAWAII shoes, the wool socks, the polyester sock, the not-so-polyester sock, the blue socks, and the socks with built- in toes to reveal. « Three dollars Canadian, eighty-seven Namekian grooples, and three and a half pairs of socks. »
Piccolo nodded. « Then let's go for it! »
(A/N : My stomach hurts, so weird things are gonna happen. ENJOY! -^_______^- )