Sorry it took so long to update, would have done it sooner except I had a test [She didn't study for it, if that's what you're wondering.]

(GET OFF MY COMPUTER!!!!), and my mom decided to check on the light coming from my room, so no more late night writing sessions. [Yeah, right.] I SAID GET OFF MY COMPUTER! Sorry, that would be the voice in my head, in a jar, you wanna buy it?

(I'll be in here, all hail me.)

Disclaimer: Do you want to read the disclaimer? Good cause I don't want to write it.

"Oh, so you're on first name basis?" Bulma quipped at Vegeta. The Principal had turned his back to sift through permanent records.

"Shut up."  The scowl seemed to be etched into his face for all eternity.

"Make me."

"I said shut up."

Mr. Featah turned with a folder in one hand, set it on his desk. Turned around again, and picked up a box labeled "Vegeta", then set it beside the folder.

"Now Ms. Briefs, could you please tell me what possessed you to participate, in this…um, frog war?"

"That bastard." Bulma pointed at Vegeta. He wasn't paying any attention, simply gazing off into the distance.

"That is no excuse. Ms. Briefs, you of all people. A frog war?"

"That I won." Vegeta had returned from his world where all people worship the ground he walks on.

"You didn't win, it never really ended."

"You were going to surrendering. Admit it, I won."

"YOU STOLE THE CART AND I RAN OUT OF FROGS TO THROW AT YOU!"

Bulma yelled.

Keeping his calm, Vegeta said. "You shouldn't have allowed me to take it from you. You're pathetic."

"I'M THE ONE WHO'S PATHETIC? I'LL KILL YOU!"

"Yeah, sure."

"Believe me, I will. Oh, you know you have frog guts all over your pretty boy face. ."

"I WILL NOT BE INSULTED BY THE LIKES OF YOU!"

"WHAT ABOUT ME?" Bulma screamed.

Both reached for something to throw at the other. Bulma had a can of pens, while Vegeta just took an entire lamp.

Mr. Featah looked on in horror, not sure how to calm them down, not having anyplace to escape to, then he remembered about the bottle of aspirin in his desk.

"BE QUIET! YOU KNOW THAT WAS A DIRTY TRICK YOU LYING-" Bulma started her round of screaming.

"PLEASE, CALM DOWN, BOTH OF YOU! I'VE HAD ENOUGH!"

Luckily, no one had thrown anything, yet.

"Now, I need to hear why both of you were here in the first place. Vegeta please put down my lamp. Thank you, Bulma, why were you sent to the office?"

"Why are you asking me first?" Bulma asked, glaring at Vegeta.

"You were here first. Now please answer my question."

Bulma stayed silent for a little while. She was still glaring at Vegeta, who wasn't paying any attention. So, being the smart person she was, she turned to glare at what's his face, the principal.

"I got in a fight. Didn't your secretary tell you that?"

Mr. Featah was seriously considering swallowing the entire bottle of aspirin in his desk. (I don't really blame him)

"No, since Vegeta came in, she was busy at the computer."

"If the idiot teacher didn't tell me that it would combust, I-" Vegeta started.

Cutting him off again, Mr. Featah continued, "She's been busy totaling the expenses. Now, Ms. Briefs, if you say you were in a fight, how come the other participant isn't here?"

Bulma continued to glare at all the proper nouns in the room.

"If she wasn't a prep sympathizer, I'm sure he would be here, but as it is, he's causing more havoc, and I'm still stuck here, eagerly awaiting my dismissal."

Sighing, Mr. Featah wrote down something, trying not to glug down the bottle that could end his misery right then and there, handed it to Bulma saying, "This is your after school detention. I must say I'm very disappointed in you. You were never in this sort of trouble before."

'Yeah, and I was never caught before, if that as-' Bulma thought.

Grabbing the piece of paper from the principal, Bulma exited the office.

Now in the girls' bathroom, Bulma was extracting dead frog parts from her hair and off her skin. Washing it out as best as she could, trying to get the ammonia and decaying matter smell off her proved to be a very difficult test. She found her thoughts trailing back to the recent events. Then to her parents reaction for the detention,

'Memo to self, before parents kill me,

Kill that bastard Vegeta. Destroy locker (not with c40's this time…). Kill preps. Kill Prep sympathizer. Pick out tombstone.'

Looking half decent, she stepped out into the hall.

Walking down the bleak, unnervingly quiet hallway, Bulma mentally checked her schedule.

"Algebra next." Bulma got her textbook from her locker and then proceeded to the correct classroom.

"Ah yes, Ms briefs, you've decided to join us?" the teacher called from her position from the board.

Bulma was still coming in through the door when greeted with the warm welcome.

Placing a tardy slip on Mrs. Kison's desk, Bulma walked to her own.

Other then the teacher, no one else really noticed her absence.

'Sometimes being a nobody can help out.'

Bulma sat down at her desk in the back,

'Away from aggravating guys, annoying preps, and everyone else, Hallelujah.'

Enjoying doing something she was good at Bulma almost hadn't noticed the teacher had spoken.

"Remember, we're having a pep rally next period."

'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NOT ANOTHER PREP RALLY!' Bulma screamed to herself.

Then people started to turn in their seats to glare at her.

'Great, I said that out loud. Why do so many preps have to be in my class? Why?'

Bulma glared back.

The bell rang, and several preps were still glaring at her.

 Wincing at the memory of the last time she had to suffer the consequences of her loud mouth, Bulma walked out in her usual manner.

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Now in the chamber of torture, the evil and very vile prep rally. (I KNOW it's pep rally, but every time I say it, it comes out prep rally.)

Bulma was sitting in the very back of the bleachers, if she wasn't hitting her head against the railing.

'Stupid! Don't you remember what happened last time? HUH? DO YOU?!'

Still banging her head against the railing (and getting a migraine) she thought back.

Some offended preps had got their boyfriends together and then told them to beat Bulma. Needless to say, 7 jocks against one misfit is not very fair,

"GO! CATS! GO!" The cheerleaders were doing their cheers. Bulma's temporary double vision focused for a few seconds after ceasing to bang her head on the railing. Not being in a sane mind, and figuring 'what the heck, I'm going to get beaten up anyway.' She stood up and did their motions exactly, but not with the correct words.

"PLEASE FOLLOW OUR DIRECTIONS, THE FOUR CARDINAL DIRECTIONS. THE PUKE BAGS ARE OVER THERE, THERE…"

EVERYONE in the gym turned to see what exactly was going on. They saw a dazed teenager making fun of cheerleaders, and having a blast.

So naturally, all the anonymous prep haters stood up too, and started doing Bulma's cheer.

There weren't a lot, but still enough to out number the cheerleaders, and unless the preps were cheating on their boyfriends, that was good.

Glares from all the prep sympathizers came at Bulma, who was still not in her right mind.

The last five minutes of the day consisted of a lot of cheerleaders crying, people (Meaning preppies' friends walking up to Bulma and saying, "I hope your proud of yourself." To which the dazed Bulma said, "Don't worry, I am." This left them stunned, they had hoped to make her feel guilty, but when you damage your frontal lobe like that, it's really hard.

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Bulma was walking through the halls (After a long after school session with the cheerleaders, and apologizing and trying to get out of there as fast as she could, was no easy feat.

Opening her locker, she loaded her books into her backpack, all while hearing a conversation not too far away from her.

"Please, just beat her up. She insulted me, she hurt my honor, you should understand that."

"If you want her pounded, do it yourself."

"Oh please, you're my boyfriend, you're suppose to help me out in these situations. Pwease, just this once?"

'gag.' Bulma thought to herself. 'That's sickening.' Trying to identify the boy's voice, she hung around her locker. 'I've heard his voice before, if I can just recognize it I can avoid being pulverized.'

"Please nothing, if you aren't willing to fight, what makes you think I will?"

'Sounds like she's getting on his nerves.' Bulma thought.

"I swear, if you weren't the captain of the football team, I would break up with you." A slap was heard, then someone walking off.

"Who said I was going out with you? Boyfriend, yeah, that's what the other fifty guys eating out of your hand are called. Pitiful, she thinks I would stoop so low as to do that."

'Duh, Vegeta.' Bulma thought to herself, banging her head loudly against the lockers, having moved closer to listen to their conversation better. She had caught his attention.

'STUPID! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid'

Hearing the rustling of clothing, Bulma had the option of running and getting caught or,

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Should I continue? Or delete this chapter and hang myself? I need some feed back! (A LOT!) If you like, tell me, if you hate, tell me.

If you want me to bash Cheerleaders/ preps (groupies, if you call them that at your school, I didn't realize there were other names for them. If you know anymore, please tell me.) more, YOU HAVE TO TELL ME.

Note, I know not all cheerleaders are snots, find one that isn't and e-mail me.

I know this chapter was short, I'll try and get the next one up as soon as I can.