Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or any of the characters, Akira Toriyama does.
...
"Let me be! There are mine! MINE, I tell you!" Master Roshi protested as attendants from HFIL tried to snatch the bundle out of the ancient figure's hands.
"What's going on?" King Yemma's voice boomed out. Goz and Mez dragged Roshi over to the large mahogonay desk. "Well Sir, the attendants have told us this old geezer won't let go of this stuff he's got in his hands", Goz stated. "Hasn't he heard 'you can't take it with you'?" Mez asked.
King Yemma stared at the bundle in Roshi's hands it was a stack of Girlie Magazines. "No way I'm letting go of these treasures, heh heh!" Roshi snckered.
"How did he even get down here with those?" the boss of all ogres demanded. Goz and Mez just shrugged. "Where there's a will, there's a way, heh heh!" Roshi chuckled. King Yemma's eyes bulged as he read through Roshi's file., "You lecherous old coot! You truly deserve to be here. I hereby condemn you to spend all eternity in HFIL!"
King Yemma easily snatched up the stack of magazines away from Roshi. Goz and Mez dragged the protesting elder away.
The judge of the dead's eyes fell on the stack of magazines. 'Wow! Look at that blonde on the April cover!" Looking both ways, King Yemma snatched up the April magazine and began leafing through it. He suddenly looked up and Kami was staring daggers at him. "What are you DOING?" the Guardian of Earth screeched. "Uh, just getting rid of some contraband that someone brought in here". "Checking rather thoroughly, aren't you?" Kami remarked sarcastically.
King Yemma's face flushed an even brighter shade of red than his usual hue.
Five seconds later, an attendant came in to dispose of the magazines. He picked up the stack of the offending magazines and turned to leave.
"Well, I must be getting back to the Lookout now", Kami said.
When no one else was around, the boss of all ogres slammed his fist on his desk and growled, "Blast it all, I wasn't done with that April issue yet".
...Down in HFIL...
"So, I'm in HFIL now, huh? Well then bring on the bad girls! WOO-HOO!" Master Roshi whooped.
"I know I'm in HFIL, but I feel like I'm in Heaven, cause' I'm sure lookin' at an angel right now!" the lecherous pervert exclaimed, glancing at a Saiyan woman with short, spiky black hair and a skimpy pink outfit that resembled an Earth woman's one-piece swimsuit, who was talking to four other Saiyan women. "Well, hello ladies!" Master Roshi called out. "Who's the dried up old fart?" Fasha asked. "Obviously, he's a pervert", one of the Saiyan women said.
"I am Master Roshi, I'm known from coast to coast and all the ladies love me, because they all know I'm the most!" Master Roshi started to sing. "Ladies, let's show this Master Roshi what we do to guys like him down here", Fasha said. Another of the Saiyan women cracked her knuckles. "Let's", she said. "OH GOODY!" Master Roshi chortled, grinning like a perverted idiot.
...
Master Roshi staggered toward the HFIL tavern. His glasses hung at an awkward angle and the left lens was crushed. His bald head and arms were covered with purplish-black bruises. His clothing and part of his skin was covered with scorch marks, obviously from ki blasts.
Once the old coot got into the tavern, he grabbed a seat next to a a Saiyan with black and silver battle armor and a hairstyle that strongly resembled Goku's. Master Roshi recognized the man as Turles.
"Well", Turles said, looking up from his drink, "I see you met the Saiyan ladies". "When I said I wanted to meet the bad girls, THIS ISN'T WHAT I HAD IN MIND!" Master Roshi groaned.