VIII. Attack of the Narcolepsy

Bulma coughed, waving her hand to clear the air of smoke. "Trunks?" she called out, "Trunks, are you ok?" The area began to become more breathable, the dark fog lifting.

"I'm okay, mom," the teen said, walking towards his mother while helping the pregnant woman into a seat, "You okay?" She nodded as she ran down the aisle and embraced her son, her whole body trembling.

Then she shook her head, slowly at first, then furiously, "Why did he do that? Why!?" She sobbed into the demi-Saijin's shoulder, clinging to him tightly.

Trunks was grim as he held his mother, "I don't know, mom..I don't know.."

Suddenly a voice called out, "Hey, Bulma! Why're you crying??"

Her head shot up, her sobs turning to sniffles, "G-Goku?" The black-haired man smiled brightly at her from the street, his arms helping to support a dazed Maxwell.

"Ya, it's me," he beamed, climbing up into the bus from the missing windshield.

She blinked in confusion, "I thought you went back to Heaven.."

He shook his head as he wiped her tears away, "No, not yet. I'm still on my mission."

She smiled at his warm touch, beginning to feel a bit better already, "So how long will you be staying?"

Goku tapped his chin in thought, looking up, "Hm..I suppose just until I finish rounding up all the escaped people."

Bulma gently laid her hand on his shoulder, sighing softly, "I'm glad you're here."

Goku peered down at her, raising an eyebrow, "Hey, what's wrong? You look like you're about to cry."

The blue-haired lady sniffled, backing away from the hero, "It's just...Vegeta. I don't know what's wrong with him! He just..flipped out, just now! He was going to...to kill an innocent woman!"

Goku's eyes widened and he clearly shouted, "WHAT!?"

Bulma threw herself on her life long friend, "Why is he doing this now, Goku!? I'm afraid he's...going to hurt me.."

Goku hugged her, soothingly rubbing her back, "You shouldn't worry, Bulma. No matter how angry or upset he's gotten, he's never hit you." His hands stopped their motion - as if an afterthought he asked, "Has he?"

Bulma looked up at him, eyes wide and incredulous, "Goku!! How could you say such a thing? Of course he hasn't!"

Goku coughed lightly out of embarrassment, "Well, I-"

Bulma frowned and looked down, leaning against the taller figure for a moment, "Well there was one time.." Goku's body tensed. Bulma whispered so that their conversation wouldn't be so public, "It was an accident. Seriously. One night when Trunks was out, I thought it'd be funny to slip some everclear in with his cranberry juice, so he got a bit..tipsy. After dinner I was..teasing him, so he threatened to hit me, but he wasn't serious. I kept joking with him and he went to mock-hit me, and accidentally hit me."

Goku somehow found the notion of a drunken Vegeta rather amusing. He opened his mouth to speak when Bulma finished, "He apologized to me, though. I think it might've been because he was liquored up some, but...he was sincere. He proved his sincerity later on anyways." A blush crept upon her cheek at the last sentence.

"Where'd he hit you?" Goku asked, finally pulling back from their embrace. Bulma laughed slightly before composing herself.

"Right here," she said, pointing to her left breast.

Just then a chorus of screams erupted throughout the already startled crowd of passengers as two very mythical looking creatures poked their heads inside the bus. "Anubisss?" one of the two supposed monsters asked in a tone of a nurse calling in the next patient. Its wings flexed and glinted like the finest of precious metals.

"Ne, brother," the other snake jerked his head in the direction of the alleged. Calen peered at his twin, watching as he hissed, the forked tongue licking the air.

"Hey, it's you two again," Goku said, tilting his head to the side.

Both snakes hopped up onto the bus, whispering into the air what sounded like, "Anubisss..."

Pikkon leapt up behind them, "Goku, I think-" Kalen and Calen stood on either side of Goku.

"We sssaw you with Maxxxwell," Calen spoke.

"With Maxxxxwell," echoed Kalen.

"You've got to be Anubisss," Calen stated.

"Gotta be," said Kalen.

"But I'm not!" Goku protested, wondering why they were being so persistent.

"Thisss baka ssseemssss to have forgotten.." Kalen finally spoke his mind.

"Hn. Yess, it appearssss ssso," Calen noted, bending in odd ways to examine the black-haired Saijin better, "Perhapsss if we wake up hiss powerssss.."

Kalen nodded in agreement, "Hai! That'll ssserve him well."

Pikkon began to interject, sounding like a very frustrated black police officer who was stuck in Beverly Hills when he really worked in Detroit, "Now listen here! I don't know who you people think you are, but running around and calling innocent bystanders 'Anubis' just isn't the correct moral ethics or protocal around here! You're interfering with official godly missions and we don't have to stand for it!" Both snakes looked at each other, then at Pikkon, then back at each other; then they began to laugh.

"Godly misssssssion, eh?" laughed Calen, "You hear that, Kalen? Godly!"

His brother nodded in a frenzy, chuckling as much as a snake can chuckle, "Hmhmhmhmhmm!! Looksss like the universsse hasss forgotten the name Anubissss after a few mere millennia of ssleep!" The snakes calmed themselves - suddenly looking very harmless, which was odd all in its own.

"Anwaysss.." Calen decided to pointedly ignore the green-skinned alien, "Let'sss commence, brother. The sssooner thiss endsssss, the better."

Kalen purred, or made a noise equivalent to that of a snake purring, "I concur." They each summoned a staff-like object, one embellished with ornate light colored gems: amethyst, peridot, amber, diamond, aquamarine, opal; the other held dark colors: ruby, emerald, sapphire, garnet, onyx, turquoise. The snakes slithered down, raising their tails into the air and lowering their heads to the ground.

At the exact moment their eyes began to glow, Bulma suddenly thought out loud, "Where's Vegeta?"

***

Curse words in more languages than known to man were spewed forth from the prince's mouth as he crawled out from under the crunched bumper of a luxury vehicle. He stood up slowly, brushing off his clothes as he continued his angry tirade that lacked proper verbs. He stopped, paused, and examined a hole in his shirt. He ground his teeth together, glaring venomously at the small tear, poking his finger through it. "I liked this shirt," he growled to himself before looking up to see which automobile had hit him first so that he could then direct as much of a hate-filled gaze he could muster at that object.

Instead, he heard a voice call out, "Holy shit..." He directed the hate-filled gaze at the person who decided to interrupt the wonderful silent search he'd been performing over the sounds of the blaring backed up traffic. It was a teenager with a shaved head, and if Vegeta knew his Earth symbols right, the interesting shape that was adorned by his t-shirt was not to be confused with an ancient symbol of peace, but rather it was the carrier image of the single largest group of assholes the human race had managed to muster.

"You worthless, diseased-ridden, vermin-filled, maggot-infested, bastard of a swine," the Prince of Saijins snarled, raising his finger and pointing to the young man as if to emphasize his accusation.

"What did you just call me!?" the brat shot back, seemingly forgetting that this man had been hit head-on (and when I say head-on I mean head-on and broad-sided) by several cars, trucks, and other such large blunt objects.

"You Neo-Nazi, homophobic, pot-smoking, lot-loitering, piece of white trash," Vegeta furthered his opinion, feeling the darkness return to him.

"What the fuck!? Fuck you, you crazy old shit!" the teen responded, spitting at him. The saliva missed its target.

"Your soul is tainted," Vegeta said simply as he approached, watching the figure of the hopeless youth crumple and wither like an uprooted flower.

There, now. The bitch may live - an exchange had been made.

***

A blue-skinned man with horns atop his head ran a one-competitor marathon up the long driveway towards the large, ornate mansion. For some reason it seemed to resemble a plantation house, which lacked oppressed slaves, as well as slaves in general. The blue-skinned man grit his teeth and ran faster, making a trail of dust follow behind him. He passed the fountain in the front - a collaboration of frogs playing various instruments, but he paid no attention to it. He raced on, noting the lovely antique car which had its self settled in his direct path. With great effort he leapt high into the air, clearing the large obstacle in one bound. He landed in front of the steps, stumbling slightly as his ankle twisted, but he trudged upward to his destination, gasping for air as he reached it. Lifting his fist, he pounded on the door as his other hand reached into his inner jacket pocket.

The door opened to reveal a large penguin-man in a tuxedo. "Wrooorp?" asked the butler, tilting his head to the side. The man, wheezing for breath, help up a piece of paper he'd dug out of his pocket. "Wrorp!?" the butler exclaimed, taking the item from him, and reading it over. When he seemed satisfied that the material wasn't changing after the third time he read it, he finally dismissed the young man. Hurrying, the butler ran upstairs and threw open a door, screaming, "Wroorp wrorp wroop WRORP!!" The figure on the bed gestured for the butler to come to him. The penguin obliged, handing the paper to his employer.

"Oh dear," said the white-haired man, "You better call in those four kais."

***

The four siblings crouched around the bed, each looking worried. "You're probably wondering why I summoned you all here," the Grand Kai spoke after a moment, peering at their concerned faces. King Kai set his jaw - any news now was probably not good news, especially if the Grand Kai had to tell them personally. The East Kai sniffled, trying to restrain tears. "I got a telegram," the elder god explained briefly. He paused before adding, "I'm changing my will." The East Kai burst into tears, sobbing into her brother's shoulder, the West letting her as he pat her back.

"There, there, sis," he said, "it'll be okay, you'll see."

King Kai played with one of his whiskers thoughtfully before tentatively inquiring something that was nagging at his mind, "Why would you have to change your will?"

The Grand Kai held up his hand, "All in good time." He paused before collecting his thoughts, "I have decided on an heir..."

***

The door slammed, bringing Bulma out of her peaceful slumber. "Vegeta??" she called out, not sure if she should be afraid or worried. A moment later the familiar figure of her alien boyfriend stormed into the room. She gaped at his appearance. The shirt he'd been wearing had its sleeves torn off, and his pants were splotched with grease and oil. His sneakers looked like a rabid dog had used them as a chew toy and he was sporting an army jacket that obviously wasn't his own, as well as a pair of goggles - Air Force most likely.

He pointed a finger at her accusingly, "Don't you even fucking start because I don't even know." He removed the jacket hastily and threw it into the corner. He went to unbutton his shirt and when he couldn't even complete that task, he ripped it off. Bulma took this time to look at the clock. It was 8:43 in the morning.

"Where have you been?" she asked quietly, "It's eight forty."

Vegeta threw his head back and screamed, "Kill me now! If you have any mercy, you stupid fucking gods, just kill me now!!" He paused, waiting for a lightning bolt to strike him or something of the sort - but nothing happened. The Prince of Saijins snarled, "Well fuck you too!!" Bulma got up and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. He jumped at the touch.

"There were men in pin-striped suits," he said abruptly, as if this answered any question she might have, "I had a Shirley Temple."

Bulma tugged on his arm, "I think you need to sit down."

He didn't struggle as she walked him to the bed and sat him down. "My mouth tastes like a Cuban cigar," he said, "but I don't smoke."

Bulma nodded in agreement as she tugged off his dirty pants, "That's right. You don't."

Vegeta sighed, lying back on the bed, "There's mirrors on the ceiling. Why are there mirrors on the ceiling?"

Bulma sighed herself as he removed his socks and shoes, "So you can watch yourself have sex."

Vegeta narrowed his eyes, "Ganz klar. Menschengeschlecht immer sich drehen Sex." Bulma stopped all motions as the foreign language smoothly made it past his lips, as if it were natural. The Saijin yawned before mocking, "Sex hier. Sex dort. Die ganze Welt sich drehen Sex." She stood and watched him fall asleep before she walked over to the nightstand. She opened the drawer, pulled out the phone book, and looked up a number. She picked up the phone and dialed. After a moment she was finally able to speak with someone.

"Yes, I'd like to schedule an appointment as soon as possible. Last name Briefs. Money is no object."