Any Given Sunday--Chapter 2

By Elektralyte

Disclaimer: I write for fun, not profit and Dragonball/Z/Gt is owned by Funimation and others. It is not owned by me.

Rating: T/PG-13

Summary: Can an ex-demon, a once evil android, a former alien prince, and a small boy overcome the combined might of the Z-senshi in a "friendly" game of backyard football? Probably not. But coach Yamcha is giving it the old college try...

Warning: Mentions of alcohol consumption, language and cartoonish violence.

The game so far was a total massacre.

Piccolo stood around doing nothing except occasionally meditating. Eighteen didn't know the rules and didn't really care to learn. She too, did nothing. Vegeta was only interested in committing random acts of violence, mostly aimed at Goku. Occasionally, the bored Saiyan would attack his own teammates; mostly, but not limited to Yamcha.

Goten was the only one on the team that actually gave a damn, and he was starting to lose heart.

The score was 0-18.

Every time Bulma's team scored, she would perform some insane, awkward victory shuffle. It was like watching spaghetti strands attack Jello--a loose, wiggly mess. She punctuated this point by stabbing the air with 'V' fingers.

As Goten once again became the victim of a Z-senshi dog pile, Yamcha spied Bulma making kissy faces at him while pointing to her wiggling bottom. It would have been a fetching display if not for the implied meaning of the gesture.

At that point, the game took on a surreal aspect. Yamcha became aware of an angry Chichi marching up to him.

"Um, hi Chichi, what's up?"

"What's up? I'll tell you what's up! My little boy is about to lose, that's what's up!" She ground out through clenched teeth.

"What are you talking about? Gohan's team is beating the crap outta us!"

"Not him you idiot--him!" She exclaimed pointing at the small, dejected Saiyan.

Goten at that moment was sitting on the ground watching his brother and father celebrating another touchdown. Absurdly enough, the scoreboard was making a frowny face as it read 0-24. Yamcha wished for sanity's sake that Puar would act more like a normal scoreboard.

"Listen mister," she continued ranting, "If my son doesn't win this game, kissing that blue-haired, poor excuse of a dancer's butt is going to be the least of your worries!"

"Look, Chichi, I'm doing everything I can, but as you can see I don't have much to work with..." He pointed his chin towards his apathetic teammates.

"Much to work with? Your team is made up of three of the most dangerous ex-villains on the planet plus a ten year old who's one of its five strongest beings and you have nothing to work with?" Chichi stared at him with incredulity.

Maybe Bulma was right, Yamcha thought to himself shamefully. I don't have what it takes to be a coach.

With a sigh he tried to explain. "I'm out of ideas, Chi..."

"KAMI ON A POGO STICK!" She swore loudly. "Must I do everything for you? You have a team of egotistical, 'reformed' megalomaniacs. Surely you can find something for them to rally around...COACH," she spat out, as she broadly pointed in the direction of her husband.

His eyes followed the pointy finger. Bulma was leading her somewhat inebriated teammates in a sloppy version of the 'Electric Slide'. Yamcha stared at Goku with dawning comprehension.

Did Chichi want him to do what he thought she wanted him to do?

"Chichi, surely you don't want me to..."

"Yamcha." She interrupted, "I want you to beat that woman's team by any...means...necessary." With that she turned on her heels and marched back to the barbecue pit.

"Hey Slugger!" Bulma sang out while collecting celebratory Kirin bottles from her teammates. "We playing or what?"

"We're playing!" Yamcha shouted as he tried vainly to get his team to line up for the next play.

With a sigh he got into quarterback position as Goten readied to hike the ball. Only Vegeta got in the lineup so he could cheerfully block, then pummel the now drunken Goku. Eighteen was examining her fingernails and Piccolo was meditating once again.

"Hut!" Yamcha called out as Goten hiked the ball to him. He heard Trunks count, "One million zenni, two million zenni, three...!"

"Oof!"

Yamcha lay on his back trying to remember how to breath and supremely pissed off about not getting his three seconds to throw. When he got up he furiously searched for the refs. Roshi was drunkenly passed out on the sidelines.

He spotted Oolong down field and called out, "You can start officiating any time now!"

Oolong gave a casual shrug. Yamcha spied Chichi threateningly waving a spatula at him. He swore loudly and called his team for a huddle. When only Goten came he walked over to Eighteen and called the huddle again. Vegeta took his time and Piccolo lazily floated over still in the "Lotus" position.

Bulma's team surrounded Goku cheering and high-fiving. "Look at them. Look at him," Yamcha demanded in frustration. "He's so smug. So superior." He pointed at the crazy-haired Saiyan.

"That 3rd class excuse for a fighter is superior to no one," stated the 'Mighty' Prince of Saiyans.

"Well that 3rd class excuse is kicking our 'superior' asses and is about to win!"

"Hey, let 'em. The sooner they win, the sooner this stupid game is over." Eighteen remarked with a yawn.

"Eighteen, do you really want them to win? I mean come on, wouldn't you losers like to beat Goku at something for once? I know we have that in common."

While Piccolo ignored him, Vegeta, more than a little miffed shouted, "I don't need to beat that fool at anything! And you and I have nothing in common weakling!"

"Sure we do. In fact, I can name at least two things that everyone here has in common."

Piccolo perked up a little. "Really? What?"

"Okay kids, raise your hand if you haven't tried this in this order; Kill Goku, Rule the World."

Goten raised his hand immediately. Yamcha sweat dropped.

"Ah, Goten? Why don't you get us some Gatorade? We're getting awfully thirsty here."

"Okay!" He cheerfully trotted off to retrieve beverages.

"As I was saying, 'Kill Goku, Rule the World.'"

Yamcha waited in suspense as he let that little tidbit sink in. Come on, he pleaded mentally. Take the bait.

"Actually, I just wanted to destroy all humans. After killing Goku of course." Eighteen supplied.

"Me too," Piccolo interjected. "But I especially wanted to kill Goku." Again, Yamcha sweat dropped.

"Heh, so did I. Right after I killed Frieza. I was going to become immortal and rule the Universe." Vegeta reminisced.

"Say Yamcha, you actually wanted to kill Goku and rule the world too?" Asked a slightly impressed Eighteen.

"Well, it was more like kill Goku, steal his Dragon balls, but I'm sure I would have got around to world domination eventually."

"You know," wondered Piccolo with a strange glint in his eyes, "killing Goku and ruling the world is out of the question now that I'm one of Earth's guardians. But it would be nice to beat him at something."

"I suppose a defeat is a defeat..."

"I could make Krillin take me shopping..."

"You're not going to hurt my daddy are you?" Asked a wide-eyed, juice-ladened Saiyan.

'YESSS!' Part of Yamcha was happy to see people coming around to his way of thinking. Another part of him though, worried about appealing to his player's deadlier nature. At least he did until Bulma's players chose that moment to drop their trousers and moon his team.

And, by the varying degrees of disgust and outrage on his teammates faces Yamcha knew they were with him now. The shiny, un-tanned buttocks of Bulma's players were all he needed to seal the deal.

Oh, it's on, he thought to himself.

"Come on guys," he prodded. "Whaddaya say? Just this once, let's work together? We can beat them!"

"And how do you propose we do that?" Questioned a skeptical Vegeta.

The wily Desert Bandit simply stated, "By any means necessary."

TBC