Hey, I was bored today, and I couldn't draw today, and I had inspiration today so guess what?

I wrote.

Disclaimer: Does my name look like Akira Toriyama? No.

So I don't own Vegeta, his family, the troll guys, King Yemma, the waiting line for Heaven and Hell, Goku, or the saiya-jin race.

However, I do own everything else.

***

BLAM!

Yes, you heard it. Blam. Sums it up pretty well if you ask me. Damned well, actually. What, you ask? Well, you have to go out one way or another, so I figured, why not with a bang? It should have been a bang, at least, but it didn't really come out that way. Maybe it was the wrong kind of a gun. Maybe they don't go bang after all. Or maybe, just maybe, I was thinking of the wrong kind of bang.

If you haven't guessed yet, I shot myself. Yes, shot myself. I had enough, so it ended. Right there and then, on the kitchen floor in front of my family.

Sometimes I make myself sick.

***

Well, when I first spotted these pearly white gates, I was pretty impressed, but now I'm just tired of it. This must be the slowest line I've stood in of my entire life. Even slower than the line to get into Disneyland. Amazing.

How many people die in one day? Certainly quite a bit, and they're still coming. When can I go in and see this Yemma guy and just get it over with? My knees hurt.

I wonder where I'll be going… Heaven, well, I'm quite doubtful, but Hell? Was I really that bad? In all truth, I probably was. I'd killed more people than the hairs on my head. Trust me, I've counted. Some of these people you just look at and you know they'll be riding up to heaven on a magic carpet. Some of the people, on the other hand, look like they've simply drank and smoked their way through life. I wonder… exactly how high are the standards to actually get into heaven? What's the determining mark? How exactly do they determine it?

What's that magic question that determines the rest of your eternity? Is this really fair? Is it possible, if you were already sent to Hell, that you could get back up to Heaven? Could I have possibly even had the slightest chance to make up for my youth in my later life?

Face it Vegeta, you know where you're going.

"Hey pineapple hair, you just going to stare at the ground all day, or are you going to stick with the line?"

Well that was certainly a rude awakening. But, the person was right. The line had moved. Very little, but better than not moving at all. I looked behind me to see who, exactly had yelled that at me.

Upon looking at him, I decided I'd probably get stuck beside this guy on the big ride down.

He looked like he'd spent his life on the street, like the kind of guy that would be proud of it. Didn't look any older than his early twenties. Looked like he went out fighting. He was tall, and had bags under his eyes. Doesn't have a single hair on his head, as far as I can see, and looking at his red goatee, it kind of makes his face look imbalanced. Was pale as the moon and had blood on his shirt. He was a sorry sight.

When he caught me looking at the red stain, he quickly pulled his jacket over the spot and shot a glare at me.

"You lookin' at somethin'?"

And horrible grammar to boot. Here comes a smirk.

"Yeah, I'm looking, and I see something." Chuckle. " Step off those stilts and let me get a look at you, maybe then I'll be able to determine exactly what breed of asshole you are." The kid kind of chuckled and shifted his backpack from one shoulder to the other.

" You just keep workin' on pullin' that stick outta yer ass. It'll come out someday. "

" Still working on it. " He laughed again.

" Ya sure are feisty for an old man. "

" Older and wiser. Name's Vegeta. " The kid smiled and offered his hand.

" Name's Greg. " I took his hand and shook it. " You sure got a funny name. " That put a scowl on my face in record time.

" Might be funny on Earth. " Greg just all out laughed at me then… Suppose he must think he's all down-to-earth, and decides he doesn't believe in 'aliens'. I'll probably be dealing with a lot more of that. No use keeping secrets here.

" You mean… to tell me… that you're not from Earth?" Another laugh. " Oh man, so let's count, you're stuck up, old, have a funny name, and are crazy to boot. Any more surprises for me? " Normally, this would be the kind of kid who I'd have kicked their asses within five seconds of meeting then. Maybe I feel sorry for him, or maybe I'm relating. Who knows?

" No, I'm not. I don't care if you don't believe me. " All I got was a sigh and then a long silence. I wasn't about to bring up a new topic.

"So, how did you die?"

"Got tired of living, tired of my family, tired of myself. So I went into the basement, grabbed a gun, got dragged upstairs by my screaming and crying kids, and shot myself in the head twice, on those stupid purple tiles in the kitchen." More silence. Tall and gangly was just sort of staring off into space.

" Me an' my friend was just falling asleep in the alleyway, right after a drug rehabilitation session. Hadn't eaten in two days, hadn't had a whiff of the white stuff in a week. I was hurtin'. Hurtin' bad. I knew my friend always kept some in his backpack. He didn't want to go into rehab, but I dragged him in. He was always a sneaky one, and I knew he woke up real early each morning and did crack on the street corner, not a meter from where I slept. I'd caught him a few days. I was the strong one. But that night was just one of those bad nights. One of those nights where you could kill someone for just a tiny breath. So I waited till he fell asleep, and went to sneak some from his pack. I knew I shouldn't have, but I didn't think anyone would know or care. The only person I tricked was myself. I'd just gotten into it when this big truck went by and woke him up. He saw me with his treat bag, and pulled a knife on me. That's how come I've got this blood stain." He moved his jacket aside some to show me it looking closer, you could tell he was stabbed all right.

"Wow." What else could I say? I haven't been there, don't know what it's like. I may actually be looking forward to getting to know Greg better. We both knew hard times. They might not have been exactly the same, but hard times none the less. " I was abducted when I was five, if it helps any. "

"Jeez. We're a pair, ain't we? So where do you think you're going?" Jeez, he was so casual! Can you still be high when you're dead?

"Me? Well…" I know it, but why can't I say it?  Come on Vegeta, just tell him. "Hell. You?" There.

" I… I guess I'm going there too. You'll stick by me, won't you?"

"…Sure."

"Hey! You're up next!" This was it. In a few seconds, the guy by the door's going to tell me to go in.

" I guess I'll see you there." I smirked softly.

"Yeah. In case we don't, take care, okay?"

"Mr. Vegeta, please proceed into the judging hall." The troll guy just said it. Here I go. It's judgement day.

"I will."

" Mr. Vegeta! Please! " Wave goodbye. I get a wave back… and then I step in, and hear my boots make those ominous clicks on the smooth marble floor. Yes, definitely marble. Why am I occupying myself with such trivial things? Why? Because I'm afraid.

I can see the big guy sitting behind his desk, slowly reading through a big stack of papers. On the paperclip, my name was written. No wonder the line took so long. I watched him straighten out his papers and calmly set them on his desk. He cleared his throat.

"Well, Vegeta, you've certainly led an… intriguing life."

"Spare me, please. Just give it to me straight. Where do I go?" I looked over at the imposing elevator with a sign reading 'Heaven/Hell' Hanging in front of it. This is the hardest few moments of my life.

"In truth, I'm not exactly sure where to put you. In your youth, you murdered millions, but it wasn't really your fault, was it? You didn't have much of a choice. And then, as you got older, you fought to defend, but in pursuit of a very selfish, if not slightly strange, desire, and then you settled down with a family, which you mistreated often, but did love very much. Then you went and committed suicide, the ultimate cowardice, but under the circumstances, well, let's just say I don't blame you. Am I right?" Slow nod. He really does know everything. "So, black or white, you ask me? Vegeta, you've lived your life in a million shades of grey. Normally I don't do this, but now I must. I'm going to boil this down to one plain and simple question, Vegeta: If you could now, would you kill the one known as Goku?" Stupid question! I'm going to hell for sure, now. Of course I would! I hate that stupid man with a flaming passion! I'd rip him into tiny pieces, eat him, bury his bones, dance on his grave, and then return for a jig every once in a while! But that answer isn't going to get me into heaven! Come on Vegeta, you've done it so many times before… just lie already!

"N…No sir. No, I wouldn't." Out! It's out now,  just go with it. Oh god, I can feel my insides churning. He's smiling now, and he waves a hand, and suddenly I'm wearing all black, and I've white wings perched upon my back… No! No, I can't do this! I can't lie my way into heaven! I'd rather go to hell than this! "I… I'm sorry, this is a mistake. I should not go to heaven." What's that on my cheek? A tear? I haven't cried in over ten years. "I… I lied. I'm sorry." What the hell? He's still smiling!? He shouldn't be smiling! When's his head going to explode? When's he going to snap me in two?

"Vegeta, Vegeta… You have passed. You're going to heaven."

"I don't understand."

" Your heart said yes, you would kill him. But you listened to your head, and said no. Knowing, and taking actions upon that knowledge, is what has earned you your wings. Congratulations. Now, you may go." Wow. I feel shamed and proud and depressed and ecstatic all at the same time. I'm an angel. Feels so good to press that u button on the elevator, but did I really earn it? Apparently I did.

Here I am. Step out of the elevator.

Strange. Heaven looks an awful lot like a normal city. Only clouds are the ones in the sky. How… amusing. Even from here, I can see a house that has my name on it. No numbers here, just names. Hey, there goes a group of saiya-jins! Never thought I'd see them here.

I walk up to my front porch. It's a nice place, I'll admit that. Suppose everyone has a nice house in heaven… wonder who lives by me…

Gasp.

When I saw that nameplate on that house, I just had to. It read, nice and clear:

Greg.

I can see him coming now, wings and all. He's smiling at me.

***

Wheee! Veg went to hea-ven! Doodly doodly do! So did Greg!

Why, you ask?

Well, see, I never told you that Greg was born on the street, so the poor guy didn't really have much choice in the matter of not going to school and the like.

Tell me what you think! I know I liked it.