Those Infernal Mood Swings! - Chapter Three: Tie-Dye Shirts, Weed, and Funky Dreams For All
Remember kids, don't do drugs.
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After picking the little old lady up and setting her on someone's lawn, out of harm's way, Vegeta retreated (towel and all) back into the house. Mumbling incoherently about bunnies and pink and dresses, he marched upstairs and into the bedroom, yanking the towel off and tossing it aside for Bulma to find later.
A few minutes later he emerged from the bedroom, clothed in a pair of black slacks and a navy blue button down shirt, already having decided he'd take the day off from training. Unconsciously running a hand through naturally spiked hair, he made his way back downstairs, and flopped on the couch before switching on the tv. With a groan, he began the dreadful act of channel surfing (not one of his favorite pastimes).
After a while, his eyelids grew heavy, and he leaned back, resting the remote on his stomach. The TV droned on about how you should talk to your kids about not doing drugs, and how drugs were bad for you. Vegeta smirked a little, his eyes fully closing. Soon, he was fast asleep.
*******************
A couple of hours later, Vegeta was rudely awakened by an odd smell wafting into his nostrils, and some kind of odd music ringing in his ears. He half opened one eye, and moaned out,
"Woman...turn down the damned TV," before closing his eye and smacking his lips.
Then, his eyes snapped back open.
In the middle of the living room was Bulma, cross legged, clad in a pair of very baggy and worn-looking khakis and a particularly bright colored tie-dye t-shirt, also very baggy. Around her neck were various necklaces, such as a peace symbol, a little dove, a cross, a smiley face, a hemp style necklace, and something that Vegeta swore read STOP THE WAR in little blue beads. Her eyes were closed and she had her hands in that sterotypical-OHM-I-am-meditating-position.
His mouth was too tired to drop open. He lifted a hand to his cheek and pinched it, hard, wincing at the sting. Yep. He was awake.
"Great," he muttered, " my onna's a.. a.."
"Peacekeeper, baby...!" Slurred Bulma, opening her eyes, which were glazed over. Vegeta craned his neck to the left, seeing a little column of white smoke rising from beside her. His eyes grew wide upon seeing a little ashtray type thing holding what appeared to be the mother of ALL doobies, and as he stared, she lifted it and took a big drag, bobbing her head to the beat of the harpsichord-type music that HAD no beat.
She puffed out little smoke rings, grinning stupidly at him. He tried to keep his cool disposition, even though it seemed Bulma was too stoned to care much whether he was 'cool' or not, arching a brow and pushing himself to his feet.
Bulma got to her feet at the same time (after setting down her Super Joint), and grinned to him, swaying her hips and moving her body in some kind of a dance out of some Scooby Doo episode gone horribly wrong.
"Come dance with me, baby! Let's get groovy!" Her voice was a high squeal, her hair flying about her face as she moved, looking impossibly stupid.
About to take a couple of steps back, Vegeta blinked, but Bulma grabbed him and spun him in ridiculous circles that made his stomach churn before he finally jerked free and stumbled to the entrance of the living room. There he stood, gaping at the dancing Bulma who was surrounded by smoke.
Trunks chose this time to come meandering in, stopping right in front of his father and staring open-mouther at his gyrating mother, who was over there getting jiggy with it. Vegeta clapped one hand over Trunks's eyes, but continued to stare.
"Dad! ...What's that funky smell..?"
Vegeta put his other hand up and pinched Trunks's nose shut, leaving the boy squirming to get free. But since he was pressed right against Vegeta and he really didn't want his nose ripped off, he held still, but managed to utter a muffled,
"Dad, what is mom DOING?! Is that weed? Weed's bad, y'know? ..since she's doing it, can I have some?"
Sighing, Vegeta used the same hand that was holding Trunks's nose shut to cover his mouth, unconsciously blocking off his airways. So, he flailed and screeched and kicked, but Vegeta was too busy gaping and blinking at the grooving Bulma to notice. Of course, until Trunks STOPPED moving. Vegeta glanced down and blinked at Trunks, then simply looked back up at Bulma.
"..AGH!"
He let go of Trunks's face, and Trunks panted hard, toppling over. Vegeta's left eye twitched, and he shook his head, dropping the boy and turning to stalk back upstairs to seek refuge in his bedroom.
**************************
By now, it was already well past nightfall, and Vegeta was feeling the aftereffects of breathing in all of that weed-fume... He snorted in disgust, thinking to himself that there WERE no side effects. He was a saiyan prince. This human leaf would have no effect on hi-
Just as he thought this, he toppled over onto the bed and into sleep, his legs hanging off the edge of the bed.
~* Running running running. Gotta run from that hippie onna! Vegeta ran down that curvy white path, the only thing illuminated in the darkness that enveloped him, pressing in around him. In the background he heard that awful, chirping harpshichord-ish music, getting louder and louder and louder until it was nearly deafening, but when he clamped his hands over his ears and winced, closing his eyes, the music stopped and it was silent.
He opened his eyes partway, glancing around nervously, and circling him were five heads of..Bulma?! One was mad face, with glowing red eyes; one was a sad face, with diamond tears; one was a happy face, with sharp vampire teeth; one was a horny face, with vampire teeth AND glowing red eyes; and one was the one he recognized as the moody face from that monthly thing, with big purply-ish bags beneath the eyes and sagging cheeks. All were spinning around him in painfully fast circles, his stomach churning and that music again rising in the background. Bulma's voice rose above it all, in a slurred yet smooth and taunting tone.
"Grooooooovy, baby.....!"
He growled and tried to shove past the spinning heads, running as fast as he could into the pitch blackness. All of a sudden, the blackness turned into flame, and his skin began to crawl. All around him were...
Floating pastries?
Cookies and cupcakes and cinnamon rolls, all of them so appealing to his Saiya-jin appetite. He realized that he hadn't eaten dinner before he retired and leapt at one of the delicious looking things, his stomach growling and the earth shaking beneath his feet. It threatened to give way, cracking and breaking as he leapt and flew and the pastries, for some reason unable to reach them or fly.
Yowling in frustration, he made one more jump, his stomach growling loudly enough to make the ground tremble and crack open, a giant hole forming directly beneath him. Flailing his arms for something to grab onto, Vegeta screamed at the top of his lungs as he fell into the darkness of the bottomless pit. *~
Sitting up sharply, Vegeta cried out in shock, body drenched with sweat. He looked around, swatting his arms at the beams of sunlight that shone through the window. After a few moments, he stopped, and took a deep breath through his nostrils, trying to calm himself.
Unfortunately, it didn't work.
Why?
Vegeta smelled cookies.
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A/N: Poor poor Veggie-chan.. T_T; How's he ever gonna cope..? Please review!
Remember kids, don't do drugs.
******************************************************************************************************************************
After picking the little old lady up and setting her on someone's lawn, out of harm's way, Vegeta retreated (towel and all) back into the house. Mumbling incoherently about bunnies and pink and dresses, he marched upstairs and into the bedroom, yanking the towel off and tossing it aside for Bulma to find later.
A few minutes later he emerged from the bedroom, clothed in a pair of black slacks and a navy blue button down shirt, already having decided he'd take the day off from training. Unconsciously running a hand through naturally spiked hair, he made his way back downstairs, and flopped on the couch before switching on the tv. With a groan, he began the dreadful act of channel surfing (not one of his favorite pastimes).
After a while, his eyelids grew heavy, and he leaned back, resting the remote on his stomach. The TV droned on about how you should talk to your kids about not doing drugs, and how drugs were bad for you. Vegeta smirked a little, his eyes fully closing. Soon, he was fast asleep.
*******************
A couple of hours later, Vegeta was rudely awakened by an odd smell wafting into his nostrils, and some kind of odd music ringing in his ears. He half opened one eye, and moaned out,
"Woman...turn down the damned TV," before closing his eye and smacking his lips.
Then, his eyes snapped back open.
In the middle of the living room was Bulma, cross legged, clad in a pair of very baggy and worn-looking khakis and a particularly bright colored tie-dye t-shirt, also very baggy. Around her neck were various necklaces, such as a peace symbol, a little dove, a cross, a smiley face, a hemp style necklace, and something that Vegeta swore read STOP THE WAR in little blue beads. Her eyes were closed and she had her hands in that sterotypical-OHM-I-am-meditating-position.
His mouth was too tired to drop open. He lifted a hand to his cheek and pinched it, hard, wincing at the sting. Yep. He was awake.
"Great," he muttered, " my onna's a.. a.."
"Peacekeeper, baby...!" Slurred Bulma, opening her eyes, which were glazed over. Vegeta craned his neck to the left, seeing a little column of white smoke rising from beside her. His eyes grew wide upon seeing a little ashtray type thing holding what appeared to be the mother of ALL doobies, and as he stared, she lifted it and took a big drag, bobbing her head to the beat of the harpsichord-type music that HAD no beat.
She puffed out little smoke rings, grinning stupidly at him. He tried to keep his cool disposition, even though it seemed Bulma was too stoned to care much whether he was 'cool' or not, arching a brow and pushing himself to his feet.
Bulma got to her feet at the same time (after setting down her Super Joint), and grinned to him, swaying her hips and moving her body in some kind of a dance out of some Scooby Doo episode gone horribly wrong.
"Come dance with me, baby! Let's get groovy!" Her voice was a high squeal, her hair flying about her face as she moved, looking impossibly stupid.
About to take a couple of steps back, Vegeta blinked, but Bulma grabbed him and spun him in ridiculous circles that made his stomach churn before he finally jerked free and stumbled to the entrance of the living room. There he stood, gaping at the dancing Bulma who was surrounded by smoke.
Trunks chose this time to come meandering in, stopping right in front of his father and staring open-mouther at his gyrating mother, who was over there getting jiggy with it. Vegeta clapped one hand over Trunks's eyes, but continued to stare.
"Dad! ...What's that funky smell..?"
Vegeta put his other hand up and pinched Trunks's nose shut, leaving the boy squirming to get free. But since he was pressed right against Vegeta and he really didn't want his nose ripped off, he held still, but managed to utter a muffled,
"Dad, what is mom DOING?! Is that weed? Weed's bad, y'know? ..since she's doing it, can I have some?"
Sighing, Vegeta used the same hand that was holding Trunks's nose shut to cover his mouth, unconsciously blocking off his airways. So, he flailed and screeched and kicked, but Vegeta was too busy gaping and blinking at the grooving Bulma to notice. Of course, until Trunks STOPPED moving. Vegeta glanced down and blinked at Trunks, then simply looked back up at Bulma.
"..AGH!"
He let go of Trunks's face, and Trunks panted hard, toppling over. Vegeta's left eye twitched, and he shook his head, dropping the boy and turning to stalk back upstairs to seek refuge in his bedroom.
**************************
By now, it was already well past nightfall, and Vegeta was feeling the aftereffects of breathing in all of that weed-fume... He snorted in disgust, thinking to himself that there WERE no side effects. He was a saiyan prince. This human leaf would have no effect on hi-
Just as he thought this, he toppled over onto the bed and into sleep, his legs hanging off the edge of the bed.
~* Running running running. Gotta run from that hippie onna! Vegeta ran down that curvy white path, the only thing illuminated in the darkness that enveloped him, pressing in around him. In the background he heard that awful, chirping harpshichord-ish music, getting louder and louder and louder until it was nearly deafening, but when he clamped his hands over his ears and winced, closing his eyes, the music stopped and it was silent.
He opened his eyes partway, glancing around nervously, and circling him were five heads of..Bulma?! One was mad face, with glowing red eyes; one was a sad face, with diamond tears; one was a happy face, with sharp vampire teeth; one was a horny face, with vampire teeth AND glowing red eyes; and one was the one he recognized as the moody face from that monthly thing, with big purply-ish bags beneath the eyes and sagging cheeks. All were spinning around him in painfully fast circles, his stomach churning and that music again rising in the background. Bulma's voice rose above it all, in a slurred yet smooth and taunting tone.
"Grooooooovy, baby.....!"
He growled and tried to shove past the spinning heads, running as fast as he could into the pitch blackness. All of a sudden, the blackness turned into flame, and his skin began to crawl. All around him were...
Floating pastries?
Cookies and cupcakes and cinnamon rolls, all of them so appealing to his Saiya-jin appetite. He realized that he hadn't eaten dinner before he retired and leapt at one of the delicious looking things, his stomach growling and the earth shaking beneath his feet. It threatened to give way, cracking and breaking as he leapt and flew and the pastries, for some reason unable to reach them or fly.
Yowling in frustration, he made one more jump, his stomach growling loudly enough to make the ground tremble and crack open, a giant hole forming directly beneath him. Flailing his arms for something to grab onto, Vegeta screamed at the top of his lungs as he fell into the darkness of the bottomless pit. *~
Sitting up sharply, Vegeta cried out in shock, body drenched with sweat. He looked around, swatting his arms at the beams of sunlight that shone through the window. After a few moments, he stopped, and took a deep breath through his nostrils, trying to calm himself.
Unfortunately, it didn't work.
Why?
Vegeta smelled cookies.
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A/N: Poor poor Veggie-chan.. T_T; How's he ever gonna cope..? Please review!