The next part of my story begins during the filming of Frieza's final scene. The tyrant stood outside the library, at the top of a giant set of stairs. There was a baby carriage next to him, and he kicked it down the stairs, thereby giving Vegeta a chance to save an innocent and look like a bigger hero.

(Fun Fact: to increase tension during filming, Mr. Plate put an actual baby in the carriage.)

"Really, Frieza," said Vegeta. "Can't you pick on someone your own size?"

Then Frieza began to walk down the stairs, staring at Vegeta the whole time. Vegeta smiled and began to walk up to meet his foe. Once they reached the middle, the two of them began to beat on each other. Again, I'm not going to go into too much detail, as this fight differs from the previous one only insofar as it is Vegeta who lost this time. In fact, I think Mr. Plate may have actually re-used the choreography for both fights.

After a while, Frieza kicked Vegeta up the steps (apparently they got turned around somewhere), then blows up the library. Vegeta flies across the sky, then lands face-first on the pavement.

We are now treated to a close-up of a single copy of To Kill a Mocking Bird, which was slowly burning up.

Cut back to Vegeta, looking off-screen towards what I can only assume is the book, while the special effects crew turn his face red and add CGI spouts of steam to his ears.

"As if it isn't bad enough that you destroy life," said Vegeta, "must you destroy that which makes life worth living, too?"

Then Vegeta began to scream. The standard 'powering up' fair began to happen—lightning, upturned stone, visible ki aura, ect. Nothing we haven't all seen before... at least until Vegeta went Super Saiyan! When the hell did he learn to do that? During training? Did Mr. Plate's wish actually give Vegeta the motivation to activate this power during the shoot?

Who the hell knows? But Vegeta went Super Saiyan, then began to brutalize Frieza, so we were back to the one-sided beatdown thing now.

Vegeta punched Frieza around, shot ki at him and so on and so forth, but never killed him.

Soon, we see a shot of the tires of a red van pulling up, and Bulma climbing out of a now blue van.

"Vegeta!" she shouted.

"Bulma! No!" responded Vegeta. "Why aren't you safe at home?" Why? Does Frieza usually hide his prisoners in the Briefs' house? Oi!

"What's this?" said Frieza. "You seem to be fond of the little girl. Well, then, surely you'll let me introduce myself."

Then Frieza raised his finger and formed a glowing orange sphere, which grew until it was the size of the library.

"No!" said Vegeta. "Not even you could be so evil!"

"No, of course not," said Frieza. "Because you won't make me. Give up your Super Saiyan powers, and I'll let her go. Isn't that nice of me?"

Vegeta growled, then lowered his head. "I agree."

Then Vegeta dropped out of Super Saiyan. Frieza began to laugh maniacally as his muscles swelled up like balloons. Apparently, we're to believe he absorbed Vegeta's power.

"The… power!" said Frieza. "It's unbelievable!"

Vegeta turned to run, but Frieza quickly grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into a wall.

"Where are you going, little monkey? Trying to find a banana?" Frieza then tightened his grip. "Well, would you settle for a split?"

Frieza thrusted his hand back and glared, but then his eyes were suddenly filled with pain and shock. Cut to behind him, where a dagger was being twisted into his back. Cut again, and we saw Bulma holding the dagger.

"This is my planet," said Bulma. "Get off it."

She stepped back, and Frieza's corpse fell backwards to the floor.

Vegeta then exploded back into Super Sayian and grabbed Frieza's body. The alien quickly awoke in a panic, but before he could react, Vegeta placed his hand on Frieza's face and fired a massive ki blast. Frieza's headless body fell to the floor.

"What are you doing!" shouted Mr. Plate, running onto the set. "His character was already dead! You didn't have to re-kill him!"

Bulma walked towards the bathroom, passing me coldly on the way.

"Well, look who it is. Managed to pull yourself away from Maron, did you?"

"I… don't know what you're talking about, Bulma," I said, laughing.

"Oh really?" said Bulma. "So you didn't sleep with that bimbo last night?"

"You… knew about that?"

"Sure," she responded. "Maron told me. And you know what else? I am sick of your libido getting in the way of our relationship. We're through!"

"Now hold on! My libido? Would you stop trying to make me seem like some kind of a man slut? This Slut Yamcha you keep comparing me to doesn't exist. This was the first time I slept with another woman. You've tried to sleep with Kami knows how many people; I just succeeded first. Hell, I don't even know that you didn't succeed. For all I know, you slept with Maron before I did!"

"Oh, is that so? Well, stop trying to change the subject! You cheated on me, and I'm breaking up with you. If you were too clingy to leave me, that's your business."

"How do I come across as the bad guy here?" I shouted. "I mean, look at you! You're lusting after someone that tried to kill everyone on the planet! Even you!"

"You tried to rob Goku the first time you met him," said Bulma.

"But I didn't try to kill him," I responded. "And… wait a minute, now you're changing the subject! The fact remains that you always lust after the most dangerous guys you can find. You lusted after me when I was a bandit more than when I was a good guy! You really do have terrible taste in men, and if you actually pursue a relationship with Vegeta, what do you think will happen?"

"Nothing," said Bulma. "Vegeta may be a violent asshole, but he was never as sneaky as you!"

Then Bulma stormed back to the set, where Vegeta and Mr. Plate seemed to be closing down their fight.

"—he did to my planet, I had to kill him!" finished Vegeta.

"That's beautiful!" shouted Mr. Plate. "Bulma defends her planet, and you avenge yours. Print that. I don't want to change a thing."

"Uhh… sir," said the cameraman, "shouldn't we at least cut out that part where you walk onto the set and get into a fight with the actors? Save it for the blooper reel?"

"Why the hell would I cut that?" shouted Mr. Plate. "Do you think that having a director appear in his own movie to break the fourth wall and speak with the actors is good enough for Taste of Cherry, but too good for Frieza? You disgust me. You're fired. Okay, then. Bulma? Vegeta? We're shooting the final scene. Yamcha? You're taking over as the cameraman."

And you know what? I just didn't care enough to resist him. I really wanted to work that camera. I thought that maybe doing this would help me get over how mad I was at Bulma and myself.

"Oh, Vegeta!" said Bulma. "You're so brave!"

"And so are you," said Vegeta.

Then they began to kiss. Vegeta—not a great actor—had a vacant look on his face, as if he'd much rather be training, and Bulma began to cup his butt. I don't know if that was in the script or not because, quite honestly, that seemed to be below neither Bulma nor Mr. Plate.

But I wasn't concerned with that, either. I knew right there and then that she loved Vegeta more than she'd ever loved me. Not lust; love. The cameraman was still standing a few feet off set. He was a good-looking man, handsome and reasonably muscular. In all honesty, he's probably the only guy I've ever fantasized about. Plus, he was eyeing up Bulma, and while this doesn't say a lot for his brains, it establishes that he would have been willing to do anything she wanted. And what was Bulma doing? Kissing Vegeta with her eyes closed. She didn't even notice the hot cameraman; it was as if she suddenly realized the power of monogamy.

I guess that I never loved Bulma, either, so I shouldn't complain. Still, losing to Vegeta at something like this—at what should have come down to personality or heart or something corny like that—hurt more than anything I had ever experienced. I know this sounds shallow and whiny, but I'm serious, not even getting my leg broken by Tenshinhan had hurt me as much as Bulma had here, simply by choosing Vegeta over me.

The filming was finished, and I flew off with an overwhelming urge to blow something up. Don't worry, I was referring to mountains.

But before I could disappear, I could hear a gruff voice calling out for me.

"My name isn't pathetic weakling," I said.

"You're worrying about your former mate, aren't you?" said Vegeta. "Well, there's no reason to. I won't let any harm come to her, much less kill her myself."

"Really?" I said emptily.

"Yeah, really!" responded Vegeta. "What do I have to gain from her death? Nothing at all. Her survival, however, does guarantee my progressive mating."

"So that's all Bulma is to you?" I said. "A sexual toy of some sort?"

"Of course," said Vegeta. "But that's still more than anyone else means to me."

Vegeta then turned back towards Bulma. She seemed happy, so I guess she didn't hear anything that Vegeta had said. Not even Bulma is that easy.

And as I flew back to the desert, it occurred to me that I really shouldn't feel bad about what happened. Granted, I was never much of a feminist, but that wasn't why Bulma left me. It doesn't matter if I've ogled a few women. Sure, that one-night stand with Maron was pretty bad, and made me feel just a bit more like Slut Yamcha, but that didn't cause this break up, and my own chastity couldn't have prevented it. I still don't know how love works and I'm sure no one can figure out how Bulma's love works, but I do know that even if I had been a perfect gentleman—even if I had made Umigame look like Kamesenin—Bulma wouldn't have loved me, and she would have loved Vegeta.

There's still a bit left. Apparently, Vegeta doesn't play safely with his toys, if you know what I mean.

The result is that, about a year later, Bulma was in the hospital, giving birth to her son and screaming all sorts of curses at Vegeta and me, pretty much because I was there.

Needless to say, Mr. Super Saiyan was too busy training to attend his own son's birth.

I wasn't. Ask any of the doctors in Satan City—I was in that hospital that day. I still didn't love Bulma; I'm not even sure I liked her that much at the time. I didn't want her to bare my children, and I had given up any hope that I ever would. I didn't really want to provide any sort of emotional support, either, and I knew I wouldn't be allowed in the delivery room even if I did. I wasn't there for her at all. I was there for the boy—for the one she decided to name "Trunks," once he was born. I didn't want a son, and I didn't see Trunks as my son, but I owed him gratitude, seeing as he had come back in time to save us, and I was going to repay him. Yes, I knew that Trunks was the time-traveler. I knew that a purple-haired Saiyan was going to be born on this planet in the near future, and then Bulma got knocked up by a Saiyan. I'm not stupid.

But, as I was saying before, I was going to be there for our savior. In fact, I intended to be there for every milestone that a real dad could fill in for. I may not be stronger than Vegeta, and I may not be as good with the women, but I know I'll be a better dad to Trunks than Vegeta would ever be. Even Slut Yamcha could sure as hell outperform the nicest Vegeta we'd ever see in that area.

I heard a crying from inside the hospital room. A pretty young nurse stepped into the waiting room, and so that you don't think I'm trying to angst the story up to gain sympathy, I can tell you now that I would eventually enter a very long and satisfying relationship with this nurse. (Incidentally, she was also a survivor of planet Vegeta, but that's not worth getting into right now.)

"Sir?" she said. "Your son was just born."

"I'm not the father," I said. But she led me into the hospital room anyway.

"Where is Mrs. Briefs' husband, anyway?" she asked.

"Mr. Big Shot is too busy," I said. Then I looked at Bulma, sitting contently in the hospital bed, holding a purple-haired baby in her arms. She wasn't listening to me, but was busy ticking little Trunks. I hadn't seen her looking like that—happy and peaceful and not angry at me—since we went on our first date. That was probably the only time she had given me any reason to love her.

And as I stood there, looking at her, and remembering how wonderful it felt just to think I was in love, I realised that I could only answer the nurse's question one way without taking that feeling away from Bulma.

"He's busy working," I said, making sure to speak loudly so that Bulma would hear me. "He has to work very hard to take care of his family."

"So," said Bulma smugly, "you've finally figured out who's the better man between you and Vegeta, have you?"