NEXT CHAPTER
In regards to his new line of work, Trunks said with much delight, "I'm going to … be a sex worker."
There was a shocked Goten on the other side. "A WHAT?!"
"A sex worker. You know, people would hire me to perform sexual favors. It seems like a lot of fun. I think I can make more money doing that than at Capsule Corp. anyway."
"Trunks! You- You can't do that!"
"Why not? Give me one reason."
"Ok, easy. Your father."
Trunks stood up on his Kleenex boxed feet and laughed, "That old man would die for the chance to do it. The only thing to worry about from him is a jealousy fit."
"Ugh. Ok fine. Pan, then. What about her?"
"What about her?! She's a whiny, wishy-washy bitch. Plus she's 10 years younger than us! You can have her, you pedophile. *I'm* going to have thousands of women. Daily."
"You're going to be a male prostitute."
"Potato, potahto."
"Sure. Whatever you say. You're a stud," as Goten's sarcasm got the better of him.
"I'm hot AND sexy. Women will throw themselves at me."
"So how will you start this booming business of yours?"
Trunks was arranging a coat hanger on his head so it stood up like antennae, "I figure I'll wait on the corner. Some gorgeous chick will be overcome by my animal magnetism and she'll hire me. Then she'll tell all her gorgeous girl friends about me, and my reputation will do the rest."
"Uh huh. Well, hate to run, but I have to go."
"Go where?"
"Uh, school."
"But it's 6 o'clock at night."
"So it is. Bye!"
Click. Goten hung up on his crazy ex-best friend.
Trunks placed the phone on its base and began to walk into the kitchen. A few sheets of Aluminum foil fell off him, but the majority of his body was still covered. The Kleenex boxes shuffled across the wood floor and the coat-hanger-antennae lightly scraped on the doorway molding as he passed through it into the kitchen. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Bulma sitting at the table.
Without looking up from a magazine, she addressed her son, "Hi dear. There are some groceries in the fridge."
Trunks thought this was a strange thing for her to say after what he had done at her company earlier that day. Surely, she must have head about it. "Uh, hi Mom. It's okay, I'm really not hungry."
"Well, dinner's at 7."
Neither had moved since Bulma had begun the conversation. Trunks didn't want to move because he didn't want her to see that he was wearing her lipstick, but he was still puzzled, "That's all you have to say to me?"
"What else would I have to saaaAAAYYYY! Oh my God, Trunks!" Bulma had looked up. Trunks was terrified. She continued screaming, "Trunks! What have you done?! Did you cut your hair?!"
"Uh. What?" said a baffled Trunks.
"Your hair!! It looks shorter!"
"No Mom. I didn't touch my hair."
She studied him closely. "Well something looks different. Hmmm …" she shrugged and looked back to the magazine, "Oh well, I guess your dear ole Mom is just going crazy."
Trunks rushed out of the kitchen before Bulma could snap out of her bout of obliviousness – which, admittedly, could be never. But I digress.
Trunks went to his room where he peeled off all the aluminum foil, leaving him stark naked. wink wink Except for the Kleenex-box-shoes, coat-hanger- antennae, and red, red lipstick. Trunks was looking through his closet trying to find clothing that a sex worker might wear. To his frustration, all he saw were five dozen blue corporate suits.
He walked to the doorway, intending to yell to his mother, asking her if his "normal" clothes were in the laundry. However, he reached the doorway and stopped because he had run into his father coming out of the Gravity Chamber. Vegeta turned to face his son who was slightly blushing and wearing nothing but a coat hanger, Kleenex boxes, and lipstick.
Vegeta narrowed his eyes, "What are you doing?"
Hurriedly, Trunks wiped the lipstick off his lips, leaving red smudges on his face and hands. But he still couldn't put a sentence together to answer his father. He stuttered, "I, uh … Well, I - "
"Put some clothes on. I don't want my son, a Prince!, walking around with … everything hanging out."
Snapping out of his stutterings, Trunks shouted, "Clothes! I was looking for clothes. I think Mom is washing them."
Vegeta looked behind Trunks into the room and saw the pile of aluminum foil on the floor. "Whatever. Put on a robe at least and talk to the woman about getting your clothes back."
Vegeta walked away and Trunks ran into his room to grab his bathrobe. He pulled it on and ran back to the kitchen. "Hey Mom-"
"Dinner's at 7, Trunks."
"No Mom, I'm not hungry. Where are my clothes?"
"I fed them to your sister."
"What?"
"Bra."
"Bra *ate* my clothes?!"
Bulma looked up at him with a 'Are you stupid' look and said, "Are you stupid? How could Bra eat your clothes?!"
A confused Trunks protested, "But you said-" Then he saw that his mom had been looking at a bra advertisement in the magazine. He continued his quest for clothes now that he had her attention.
"Where are my clothes, Mom?"
"I threw them out."
"What?! Why?! What will I wear?"
"I threw out your clothes. I didn't like them. And I don't care what you wear."
"SIGH. Can I have some money to buy new ones, then?"
"Okay. Get $300 from your father." Trunks started to walk away, but Bulma grabbed his wrist and spoke very seriously, "Don't. Buy. Socks. No socks! You hear me?!"
"Uh, yeah, Mom. Why?" She didn't answer him, so he walked away to find Vegeta.
And he did find Vegeta. Sitting in a chair. Reading. Or something. Probably not reading, but who cares? Let's say he was reading "The Little Engine That Could." Reading it aloud.
Vegeta, unaware of his son entering the room, " 'I think I can, I think I can, I thiiink .. Iiiii …. caaaannnnn …' NOOOOO! Why can the *train* do it? What can't *I* do it? Why can't I defeat Kakarrot?!"
"Dad?"
Vegeta sat on the book, "What do *you* want?"
"Mom told me you'd give me some money for clothes."
"If it will get you away from me, fine. How much?"
"She said $300 …"
Vegeta eyes Trunks suspiciously. Then he fingered through his wallet, withdrew many bills and handed them to Trunks. "Here's $500. Make sure you buy a lot of socks."
"What the hell is the deal with the socks?!"
"Shut up and just do what I say, boy."
Trunks rolled his eyes, "Whatever." On his way out, he walked by the kitchen, "Bye Mom."
Without looking up from the magazine, she said, "Dinner's at 7."
Trunks looked at his watch. He crinkled his brow, "It's 8 o'clock."
She responded, "Don't forget to take the armadillo."
Trunks scratched his head and walked out to the car - still wearing his robe, Kleenex-box-shoes, and coat-hanger-antennae with red smudges across his face.
A/N ---- So what's with the socks? No, seriously. This is all sorts of fucked up. Ha ha ha. Maaayybybe other people will review this. Lemme know if I'm doing right. Hahaaha .. not that I care, b/c this is damned funny to me ---- but it's nice to hear good things.
Remember … watch out for those socks. Maybe I'll figure out why by the next chapter. And maybe Trunks will start his job. I really don't know.
In regards to his new line of work, Trunks said with much delight, "I'm going to … be a sex worker."
There was a shocked Goten on the other side. "A WHAT?!"
"A sex worker. You know, people would hire me to perform sexual favors. It seems like a lot of fun. I think I can make more money doing that than at Capsule Corp. anyway."
"Trunks! You- You can't do that!"
"Why not? Give me one reason."
"Ok, easy. Your father."
Trunks stood up on his Kleenex boxed feet and laughed, "That old man would die for the chance to do it. The only thing to worry about from him is a jealousy fit."
"Ugh. Ok fine. Pan, then. What about her?"
"What about her?! She's a whiny, wishy-washy bitch. Plus she's 10 years younger than us! You can have her, you pedophile. *I'm* going to have thousands of women. Daily."
"You're going to be a male prostitute."
"Potato, potahto."
"Sure. Whatever you say. You're a stud," as Goten's sarcasm got the better of him.
"I'm hot AND sexy. Women will throw themselves at me."
"So how will you start this booming business of yours?"
Trunks was arranging a coat hanger on his head so it stood up like antennae, "I figure I'll wait on the corner. Some gorgeous chick will be overcome by my animal magnetism and she'll hire me. Then she'll tell all her gorgeous girl friends about me, and my reputation will do the rest."
"Uh huh. Well, hate to run, but I have to go."
"Go where?"
"Uh, school."
"But it's 6 o'clock at night."
"So it is. Bye!"
Click. Goten hung up on his crazy ex-best friend.
Trunks placed the phone on its base and began to walk into the kitchen. A few sheets of Aluminum foil fell off him, but the majority of his body was still covered. The Kleenex boxes shuffled across the wood floor and the coat-hanger-antennae lightly scraped on the doorway molding as he passed through it into the kitchen. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Bulma sitting at the table.
Without looking up from a magazine, she addressed her son, "Hi dear. There are some groceries in the fridge."
Trunks thought this was a strange thing for her to say after what he had done at her company earlier that day. Surely, she must have head about it. "Uh, hi Mom. It's okay, I'm really not hungry."
"Well, dinner's at 7."
Neither had moved since Bulma had begun the conversation. Trunks didn't want to move because he didn't want her to see that he was wearing her lipstick, but he was still puzzled, "That's all you have to say to me?"
"What else would I have to saaaAAAYYYY! Oh my God, Trunks!" Bulma had looked up. Trunks was terrified. She continued screaming, "Trunks! What have you done?! Did you cut your hair?!"
"Uh. What?" said a baffled Trunks.
"Your hair!! It looks shorter!"
"No Mom. I didn't touch my hair."
She studied him closely. "Well something looks different. Hmmm …" she shrugged and looked back to the magazine, "Oh well, I guess your dear ole Mom is just going crazy."
Trunks rushed out of the kitchen before Bulma could snap out of her bout of obliviousness – which, admittedly, could be never. But I digress.
Trunks went to his room where he peeled off all the aluminum foil, leaving him stark naked. wink wink Except for the Kleenex-box-shoes, coat-hanger- antennae, and red, red lipstick. Trunks was looking through his closet trying to find clothing that a sex worker might wear. To his frustration, all he saw were five dozen blue corporate suits.
He walked to the doorway, intending to yell to his mother, asking her if his "normal" clothes were in the laundry. However, he reached the doorway and stopped because he had run into his father coming out of the Gravity Chamber. Vegeta turned to face his son who was slightly blushing and wearing nothing but a coat hanger, Kleenex boxes, and lipstick.
Vegeta narrowed his eyes, "What are you doing?"
Hurriedly, Trunks wiped the lipstick off his lips, leaving red smudges on his face and hands. But he still couldn't put a sentence together to answer his father. He stuttered, "I, uh … Well, I - "
"Put some clothes on. I don't want my son, a Prince!, walking around with … everything hanging out."
Snapping out of his stutterings, Trunks shouted, "Clothes! I was looking for clothes. I think Mom is washing them."
Vegeta looked behind Trunks into the room and saw the pile of aluminum foil on the floor. "Whatever. Put on a robe at least and talk to the woman about getting your clothes back."
Vegeta walked away and Trunks ran into his room to grab his bathrobe. He pulled it on and ran back to the kitchen. "Hey Mom-"
"Dinner's at 7, Trunks."
"No Mom, I'm not hungry. Where are my clothes?"
"I fed them to your sister."
"What?"
"Bra."
"Bra *ate* my clothes?!"
Bulma looked up at him with a 'Are you stupid' look and said, "Are you stupid? How could Bra eat your clothes?!"
A confused Trunks protested, "But you said-" Then he saw that his mom had been looking at a bra advertisement in the magazine. He continued his quest for clothes now that he had her attention.
"Where are my clothes, Mom?"
"I threw them out."
"What?! Why?! What will I wear?"
"I threw out your clothes. I didn't like them. And I don't care what you wear."
"SIGH. Can I have some money to buy new ones, then?"
"Okay. Get $300 from your father." Trunks started to walk away, but Bulma grabbed his wrist and spoke very seriously, "Don't. Buy. Socks. No socks! You hear me?!"
"Uh, yeah, Mom. Why?" She didn't answer him, so he walked away to find Vegeta.
And he did find Vegeta. Sitting in a chair. Reading. Or something. Probably not reading, but who cares? Let's say he was reading "The Little Engine That Could." Reading it aloud.
Vegeta, unaware of his son entering the room, " 'I think I can, I think I can, I thiiink .. Iiiii …. caaaannnnn …' NOOOOO! Why can the *train* do it? What can't *I* do it? Why can't I defeat Kakarrot?!"
"Dad?"
Vegeta sat on the book, "What do *you* want?"
"Mom told me you'd give me some money for clothes."
"If it will get you away from me, fine. How much?"
"She said $300 …"
Vegeta eyes Trunks suspiciously. Then he fingered through his wallet, withdrew many bills and handed them to Trunks. "Here's $500. Make sure you buy a lot of socks."
"What the hell is the deal with the socks?!"
"Shut up and just do what I say, boy."
Trunks rolled his eyes, "Whatever." On his way out, he walked by the kitchen, "Bye Mom."
Without looking up from the magazine, she said, "Dinner's at 7."
Trunks looked at his watch. He crinkled his brow, "It's 8 o'clock."
She responded, "Don't forget to take the armadillo."
Trunks scratched his head and walked out to the car - still wearing his robe, Kleenex-box-shoes, and coat-hanger-antennae with red smudges across his face.
A/N ---- So what's with the socks? No, seriously. This is all sorts of fucked up. Ha ha ha. Maaayybybe other people will review this. Lemme know if I'm doing right. Hahaaha .. not that I care, b/c this is damned funny to me ---- but it's nice to hear good things.
Remember … watch out for those socks. Maybe I'll figure out why by the next chapter. And maybe Trunks will start his job. I really don't know.