Vacationing with the Briefs
Author's Note: Wow! I got tons of great reviews from you guys about chapter one, so here comes Chapter Two! Oh, yeah. That belongs in Capital Letters. Alrighty. Well, you guys put me in a VERY good mood, so I'll shut up now and continue with the story...
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em and I'm broke.
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My Kami, how much clothes does one person need for a week? I watched as Bulma finished sitting on her 3rd suitcase in order to shut it. I looked at her econo-sized bags for a moment and then to the three duffels on the floor for me and the brats. Of course one suitcase was for make-up alone. As if she needed it. Bulma as never used that much, wanting to keep the 'natural' look that is so in fashion, and I've always thought that it suited her well. However, I kept my tongue in cheek and lugged everything to the aircar, like a good little boy. Hey, this week is vacation, and I am so not letting my pride get me on the proverbial couch. Besides, if I objected, then she would go on her whole 'Goku helps out HIS wife' lecture and then I'll be bound by honor to d it anyway, so better to do it seemingly by will and get the bed, then letting her see that she MADE me and being out in the doghouse. I think that my time on this muddy Kami-forsaken rock has made me soft…
After the aircar was practically dragging the ground with luggage, which Bulma decided NOT to encapsulate, even after all my saying 'Please' as well, we loaded the kids up and hopped in. For some odd reason, Bulma refused to let me drive, grumbling about 'death to birth rate' and 'road rage.' However, that was all good to me. I had a bit of thinking to do. First of all, if even the thought of the old cook, Mr. Satan, got me riled up, then how was I supposed to spend a week in his ever suffocation presence? Hopefully, I'd have enough to distract me from the thought of killing him. I remembered something from a school play of Bra's…what was it? Something about stars hiding their fires from my dark and deep desires. I liked that play…lots of death. I just can't put a name on the title though. Oh well, it's just a stupid ningen thing anyway. If the main character had been a Saiyajin, the title and all the lines would be WORTH remembering. But back to the matter on hand, I really sort of wished that I had actually PAID ATTENTION in my anger management treatment classes. After all, Bulma HAD put in quite a bit of money to let me go, and quite a bit of effort to MAKE me. The only thing I remembered from the whole blasted course was to count backward from ten, which I really didn't think was going to stop me from frying the quote, unquote "Worlds Martial Arts Champion." The man was infuriating. I don't see how Gohan could stand being around him. Hopefully the brat wouldn't marry Videl and let him into the family. Not my family, but Kakarotto's. However, even the thought of Mr. Satan being related to any Saiyajin is just as bad if he were to be part of my family. My family, with me as the head, me, who represents all that is good in this universe. I, who was everything a Saiyajin was supposed to be, related to Mr. Satan, who was…well…not. The thought frightened and disgusted me. He shouldn't be human. What was the average human like? Hmmm…not Bulma. She was very wealthy and powerful. Kuririn? No. He was a monk. Yamcha? Nope. Baseball player there. Yaijorobe? Nope. Even Videl wasn't average. She fought crime and was the daughter of a superstar. Well, it didn't matter anyway. I used to study the ningens when I first got here, but their culture was beyond me. So many different personalities, colors, styles, ways of talking…it was mind-boggling. The Saiyajins had different personalities, but not that many. We all had the same coloring, even though we wore different color combos of armor. Of course, everyone had their own style, but style didn't matter much in the big scheme of things. Style holds a much higher position here than it did on Vegetasei. On the ways of talking thing, I couldn't tell you. For the most part, I could tell you there were three ways of talking, mine, Nappa's, and Radditz's. My own voice patterns are somewhat rough, but much more eloquent than your average run of the mill Saiyajin. Nappa was a little slow, but very polite in my presence. He didn't need to say much, anyway. Although his failure was a disgrace and he deserved the fate I dealt him, I miss the big lug every now and again. However, if I ever need the company of an idiot there is always Kakarotto, eager and willing to be "friends." It's appalling! He doesn't even come close to showing me the proper respect fitting of my rank above him. But then again, neither did Frieza or his lackeys.
All my contemplating had put me into a very sour mood, so I didn't even notice when the aircar stopped. Bulma shook me gently on the shoulder and asked me to unload the aircar. Stick a carrot in front of me and call me Mr. Pack Horse. After I had all the bags up in one easy armload, I took the time to look around at the so called "cabin" It had to be at least a quarter the size of the entire Capsule Corp. complex! This place was absolutely HUGE! Hopefully its large size will keep the encounter rate between our host and myself to an absolute minimum.
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Author's note: Oh! Here's a good stopping place! All right, I'm done! ~ Dodges the sharp objects that are being hurled at her. ~ Oh! Just kidding! All right all right! I'll find an even better cliffhanger to abruptly quit typing at…. Sheesh.
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Right now it is to my total belief that the universe has a grudge against me, and is now reeking revenge with extremity. Who else but the * cough * Worlds Martial Arts Champion himself decided to greet me at the door. The next conversation went a bit like this.
"Hello there! I can see that you're a big strong man like myself, which has me a bit relieved. Now I'll have someone to spar against, that is, if you're not afraid and if you don't get hurt too badly just being in my awesome presence…." He kept talking, but I don't remember anything else that he said. Jeez, Bulma calls ME egotistical and vain. I don't even come close to this guy. Somehow I kept from laughing. Probably because then he had the nerve to put his arm around me and start walking. He's all hairy…and he smells. It's just disgusting. Frieza didn't even turn my stomach THIS badly. I really wanted to kill him. As soon as the nerve under my left eye started jumping, Bulma rushed in and saved the day, kissing up to Satan and getting him to give her a tour. I promptly hid in our room, trying to suppress a murderous rage.
I thought I would be left alone when the door opened. I slid along the wall and hid behind the door, as it was opening rather slowly. If it was Satan, he wouldn't be able to feel my chi. Unfortunately, it was the cue ball. Kuririn peeped behind the door and raised an eyebrow at me. I gave him my best "Ask-and-you-will-die-because-it-is-none-of-your-damned-business" look. It worked, but he still came in, closing the door behind him and sat on the bed. Although this could have been my last chance to kill him, I just glared at him. Soon he started to fidget so I finally asked him what he was doing in my room.
"Well, ah…Vegeta. We're all going to go down to the lake later on, and since it's a sandy shoreline, we were going to set up to play volleyball. And well, I was wondering if you wanted to go because, well, we're on vacation and you don't need to be so anti-social."
"Well, baldy, not like it's any of your business, but I am NOT anti-social. I am completely in favor of society, as long as it leaves me alone."
"See! You are anti-social!" I think in his efforts to get me to "join in the fun" he forgot his usual fear of me, which I was just fine with. While it was flattering for him to cower, it got annoying.
"I am not. If I were anti-social then I wouldn't be talking to you and you would be laying dead as a nail in the doorway."
"Oh, you're just lucky I ALLOW you in my presence!" That one stopped me. Of all people, I NEVER expected that out of Kuririn's mouth. I couldn't help but chuckle. The short one laughed along with me, albeit nervously.
"Alright, cue ball," He cringed at my nick name for him, "Just for that, I'll be there." Smiling he stood and left without a word. Something tells me that Bulma put him up to this. I turned to Bulma's laptop that she had left in the room. I had a couple of hours and I was curious as to what this "volleyball" ningen crap was. You should always be prepared, says I.
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Oh! Well, that's all for today, folks! * Smirks evilly * I'm going to need 5 reviews in my e-mail box before I'll begin writing the next chapter. You guys gave me nine for Chapter 1 in the first day alone, I know you can do it! Oh, and Daniel-chan, have fun at Tool in a few days!