Chapter 2
Piccolo almost went blind when he saw the jerseys: orange, with a bright green snail imprinted on it. In addition, the shorts were too short, the tank top much too tight and what did that mean, no shoes?! The last time he walked barefoot was when he crawled out of the egg.
Besides, he couldn't help but notice the double bed.
"That was on purpose," he growled towards Gotenks. In response, a pair of harem pants soared through the air and caught on his ears. When he tore off the garment in annoyance, he caught a glimpse of Gotenk's bare bottom.
That started well!
"Come on, Piccolo! Get changed, warm up, and then out onto the battlefield!" Gotenks cheered.
The volleyball court was not very different from the ones on Earth. A net was stretched in the middle of the rectangular square, on one side of which the referee sat in a high chair and watched the field with his millions of eagle eyes. The clear, orange-going sky was streaked with clouds of dark and light smoke. It was hot and there was a sun somewhere.
But as hard as he tried, Piccolo could not see the sun's core anywhere.
A crowd of spectators had gathered around the square, talking in all the languages of the universe. Piccolo managed to hear Namekian, mandarins, Rotwelsch, Elvish, Klingon and Austrian.
The spectators, who were sitting far away, were also able to easily follow the spectacle on the square via huge screens. Or had the bad luck of sitting right behind a pillar...or a giant.
Piccolo caught all of this in the blink of an eye as he stood in the square, stepping from one foot to the other. Not because the sand was too hot, oh no, but because the feel of the sand between his toes sent a shiver through his body that went through his claws and antennae. As a trial, he dug his toes in the sand and shook himself in disgust.
Gotenks was obviously having fun - the cheerful Fusion was just building its third sand castle.
Also good, the sooner they lost here, the sooner he could say goodbye to this terrible intermediate world with its terrible sand and return to Kami's palace to do important things.
But he hadn't counted on Gotenk's ambition, who was now hopping around his sandcastles and shouting a creative cheer: "Holahola, snail butt! We're the biggest, best, and sexy anyway!"
Piccolo stared. Blinked. And kept staring.
Gotenks jumped up and down in front of him, went down on his knees, threw his arms up in the air, jumped into the air, spun around his axis and landed while blowing sand on the ground.
"Come on, Piccolo! We have to heat up the audience! Those who can get the audience on their side have almost won. But you have to participate. Don't just stand there like you have grown up!"
"NEVER!" Picollo shouted.
Gotenks pouted, but couldn't get around to saying anything, because at that moment their opponents lurched onto the field.
They were, yes, what kind of figures were they? Robots maybe? Ah no, cars. No, but robots? Gotenks scratched his head in confusion and decided that it was better not to think too much about it and instead pose. He clenched his fist and, well, posed.
"Get ready for your worst nightmare! I am the horror that sweeps the clay court, I am the scratch in your brand new Porsche. I am the rust of doom!" the figure boasted.
Piccolo buried his face in both hands.
"Team Autobot has the ball."
"Wait a minute! Has the match already started?!" Piccolo said, taking his hands off his face. Yes, there was the ball, buried inches deep in the sand and glowing to itself!
Gotenks was as surprised as he was. His mouth was wide open. He still held his fist up.
"Piccolo!" Gotenks yelled. "Do something!"
"Me?! Who is standing there like his own statue instead of doing what we came here to do?!" Piccolo shouted back before he closed his mouth abruptly before Gotenks could think that he cared about this damned volleyball tournament.
Again the ball came torn across the net like a comet. Piccolo's leg muscles tensed, and he dropped to his knees to snap forward like a spring. The movement came so naturally, it was probably the most surprising of all. He made himself long, stretched and stretched, then his toes lost their grip in the soft sand and he hit antennae first, butt up, lengthways. Coughing sand, Piccolo pushed himself up again. Gotenks scolded, he could see that very clearly, but the sand in his ears spared him words.
As the ball reached its apex and started falling again, Piccolo got to his feet. Gotenks, who was obviously still scolding like a pipe sparrow, threw the ball back into the air. It wouldn't be enough to hit the ball, but Piccolo levered the ball so skillfully over the net that the robotic cars had no chance.
Ha! Piccolo felt something like satisfaction rise within him. Finally he had time to shake the sand out of his ears.
"Stupid Namekian! Decrepit snail idiot! How can you be so stupid!" Gotenks bleated at the Namek, when he saw the sand coming out of his ears. "Why don't you use your snake arm tactic when you take the ball instead of kissing the sand?!"
WHAM!
Gotenk's tirade was rudely interrupted by a head-butt.
Whether he liked it or not, Gotenks was not entirely wrong. In the many battles of the past few years, one or the other technology was simply no longer up to date and had been forgotten. The snake arm technique was just one of many. But here, here she would actually serve him well.
"Better concentrate," Picollo instructed Gotenks, rolling the volleyball between his hands.
"That's the spirit, pop them good, Piccolo!" Gotenks cheered.
The statement was correct, but the Karrors weren't from yesterday and accepted.
"He's coming, he's coming," Gotenks screeched, hopping across the field like a startled chicken. Piccolo didn't want to admit it, but the heat of the moment was starting to get into his bones. His hands tingled with excitement.
An incredible change was taking place with the Saiyan. He paused, got dead serious, his whole figure tensed. And when the ball hit, it leapt forward in a single, flowing motion. The ball was catapulted high into the air and when it came back down, Piccolo was already standing by.
He threw the ball up and hoped Gotenks was where he wanted it.
"Deadly Smash Ball!"
For a brief moment Gotenk's body darkened the non-existent sun. Before Piccolo's eyes the time seemed to drag on like one of Vegeta's spandex suits, as Gotenks hung in the air, his hand raised to strike, his muscles tense, an expression of joy and determination on his face, Piccolo smoothly warm around him Heart. Buried deep under reason and stoic equanimity, the admission stirred that he was beginning to enjoy the game himself. Not to mention what the sight of a sweating and panting Gotenk did to his libido.
Then time picked up again.
Gotenk's hand came into contact with the ball. The pent-up force was released in a small mini explosion on the surface of the ball, which hurled it against the ground with tremendous energy.
No matter how much the four-wheeled monster cars stretched, Gotenk's deadly smash was no match for them. He hissed and dug himself into the sand and melted it into glass.
"Isn't it a bit early for that?" Growled a breathless Piccolo as Gotenks crowed and performed a victory dance. "We haven't won yet!"
But the knot had broken. Whatever the Androidbots tried to do, from 'bumblebee' attacks to 'optimized' smash balls, they could no longer hold out against Saiyan and Namekians and finally shuffled off the pitch with burst tires.
"Hahaaaa! We won! We are the greatest!" Gotenks roared in victory.
Piccolo looked at the squirming Gotenks in silence. With his arms crossed for a few minutes as he jumped across the square in his victory dance, he then pulled him from the square and off of the quart until the next match.
This was going to be a long game.
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