BADMAN
Author: Lordess
Disclaimer: I don't own the shirt. or the characters.
Notes: This came out as a 'what if' story that continually flits back to that infamous shirt Vegeta wore.
Warnings: OOCness, "Vegeta's" rambling thoughts. This doesn't exactly follow the story line we know and love. Take that!
ONE-SHOT
* * * Vegeta, the prince of all saiyans, crept silently towards the direction of the lizard. Kakkarot's annoying friends were also quietly making their way towards Frieza behind him. He had been under the impression that the third class idiot had killed the lizard. For all the trouble of being removed from Namek and have it being destroyed on top of it, Kakkarot had nothing to show for his efforts. Now, Frieza had landed on Earth.
Why did he have to end up stuck on this miserable planet? Then again, where would he go? The only home he had ever known had been destroyed by the lizard that he was apparently going to present himself to. Living under Frieza's reign had been comparable to Hell, he knew this, seeing as though he had been killed once and the powers that be hadn't just let him lounge around sipping cocktails.
What was worse than suddenly finding the tyrant, who had destroyed everything you ever knew then held you in bondage nearly all your life in which he beat and tortured you, whom you believed to have been killed, suddenly show up at your doorstep apparently doing rather well, probably with the intent to beat and torture you some more, and then kill you again? Wearing a pink shirt besides. That was worse.
Didn't they have gender specific colors on this backwater planet? Of course, they couldn't even get past their own moon, which had actually been destroyed. Wasn't anyone upset by that move? He was sure someone was, what with the number of annoying songs he had heard dedicated to walks and rendevous under the moon. Someone had to be. Maybe oceanographers were. It would've disrupted the tides. If he lived, he would find an oceanographer and ask if he was upset with the absence of the moon.
Vegeta tried to refocus on the task at hand, which was climbing up a cliff. It ended up being too dull for him and his mind went back to wandering. If Kakkarot suddenly showed up and fought Frieza. the victor would be very badly off. He could then kill whoever remained, take over the planet, and introduce some new ideas. First, he would find whoever made this shirt, and send them to the next dimension, then, he would find whoever sold the shirt, and send them to the next dimension. The woman bought the shirt, but he would have already sent her to the next dimension for being loud. After he took care of that mess, he would explain the importance of gender specific colors and implement laws on his teachings where violators would be put to death. Finally, he would set to work about getting a new moon. He would probably have to destroy it immediately in demonstration of his power to quell an uprising against him. Then he'd kill the uprisers and get another moon.
The top of the cliff. Nice and level. He inched his way to peer over the edge, and saw Frieza's circular disc of a ship and a small battalion of armed nothings. There were twenty, maybe thirty, no it was twenty of them. Behind him, he heard the rest of the troupe reach the top and begin to fan themselves outward. He ignored them.
What was that crap all over Frieza? Oh. he was now part machine. Kakkarot did a number on him. He wondered if the lizard had feeling in his prosthetics. He decided he should ask him if he got the chance. He couldn't imagine Frieza would. Squinting, he saw a taller version of Frieza, minus the metal additions. King Cold. There was moron. The man defined moron, though he suspected Frieza probably surpassed his father. It would seem Kakkarot would have to kill them both, and end up clinging to life, then he could swoop down before anyone could think and kill the bastard. He doubted he would even have to concern himself with the henchmen, they would ideally have been killed in the battle. Upon further reflection, they would have been killed in the battle.
After watching the idiots mill around for nearly half an hour, the prince started to grow agitated. Sitting around doing nothing was not something he enjoyed, especially when there was a fight to be had. As if on impulse, he shot down, ignoring the muffled gasps from behind him. He entered with a bang, literally, he killed all of Frieza's men with a blast or two. He ignored the looks given him, save one: the surprise coming from Frieza.
"Vegeta, what are you wearing?" Frieza asked, shock ebbing his features. Vegeta started, that was not the reaction he had been expecting. He looked at himself, the pink shirt and yellow pants reminding him of what the woman had called a banana split. He had forgotten about what he was wearing.
"You don't look like yourself either," Vegeta replied, looking with disgust on Frieza's new alterations.
The disgust went unnoticed.
"You're wearing pink! Don't you know about gender specific colors?"
"Yes I know," Vegeta answered testily, "but no one else on this backwater planet seems to."
"So why are you wearing them?"
"They're what were put out for me. My regular ones are in the wash."
"Oh." Frieza replied, not quite knowing what to say due to the inadequacy of the situation. He cleared his throat, opened his mouth, and shut it again.
Vegeta felt he should have been put into a rather foul mood by this exchange, but he felt far away from the scene and therefore, didn't care so much. It was like watching oneself in a mirror or on television. He wondered if the people he saw on the t.v. watched themselves. Would it be weird to just turn on your telelvision set and find yourself looking back at you? It would be different from when you go into stores and they have camcorders hooked up to t.v.'s, because you wouldn't see the camera, and it would all be pre-recorded, he mused. Maybe he would get a camcorder and tape himself, then play it later and see if it was any weirder. Or was it that people you've never met and will never meet are also watching you that makes it weird? That was another thing to do. He decided if he lived, he would first find an oceanographer and ask if he was upset with the absence of the moon, then he would find someone on t.v. and ask them if it was weird to see themselves.
Frieza coughed.
The prince narrowed his eyes at the lizard.
"Is there something you wanted to say, Frieza?"
"Well," the lizard looked at Vegeta again before continuing, "I came here for a reason."
"Did you?"
"Yes, I was going to wipe out the planet's population, kill your super- saiyan friend, and then destroy it."
"That third-class is not my friend," Vegeta scowled.
"Fine, but I'm still going to do everything I said I would," Frieza said.
"Just as long as we're clear on that."
Frieza charged Vegeta, both ignoring the silent King Cold, who was frozen in shock, as they began. Vegeta side-stepped easily, seeing that Frieza was going to toy with him as the lizard shot past. He waited for Frieza to come back, but when nothing happened, Vegeta turned around to look.
Frieza was standing there, looking at Vegeta like the prince had three arms.
"Does your shirt say 'Badman'?" Frieza asked, mouth slightly agape. Vegeta rolled his eyes.
"Yes," he snapped.
"Why?"
"I don't know!"
"Why would anyone own a shirt like that?" Frieza asked, clearly puzzled. Vegeta looked down at himself once again, noting the cheap, pink plastic buttons and the bright pink thread holding the whole thing together. Why would anyone design such a shirt? Obviously, they got no enjoyment from their job, unless the enjoyment was derived from being sick. That's what the shirt was, he decided, sick. and sad, the shirt was also sad.
"Look, if it bothers you that much, I'll take it off," Vegeta said, proceeding to do just that. Then, he took it and threw it at the lizard, thinking to charge him while he was momentarily blinded, since Frieza had just let the article of clothing hit him in the face.
The explosion that engulfed the tyrant stopped him.
When the dust cleared, there was only a blackened spot where Frieza had stood. Vegeta looked around, suddenly seeing a golden haired boy charge at King Cold and impale him on a sword, then blowing him up as well. The final act of destruction was aimed at the ship.
Vegeta watched in disguised astonishment as the boy powered down and his hair bled into a lavender color.
"Were you wearing a pink shirt?"
* * *
Frieza looked around him. He had a feeling he knew exactly where he was at. The sudden arrival of his father didn't seem to bother him as he was distracted by what he held in his hand. It was pink.
Almost timidly, he draped the cloth over himself, and buttoned it up. He shivered.
It was definitely. odd.
Suddenly he relaxed and walked off, whistling to himself. After all, why should he be bothered? He wore lipstick and painted his nails.
* * *
THE END!
* * *
A/N: I'm not really sure what this was about, other than the pink shirt. I know, it was short, but how much can you really write of a fic that tries to center itself around a shirt?
Author: Lordess
Disclaimer: I don't own the shirt. or the characters.
Notes: This came out as a 'what if' story that continually flits back to that infamous shirt Vegeta wore.
Warnings: OOCness, "Vegeta's" rambling thoughts. This doesn't exactly follow the story line we know and love. Take that!
ONE-SHOT
* * * Vegeta, the prince of all saiyans, crept silently towards the direction of the lizard. Kakkarot's annoying friends were also quietly making their way towards Frieza behind him. He had been under the impression that the third class idiot had killed the lizard. For all the trouble of being removed from Namek and have it being destroyed on top of it, Kakkarot had nothing to show for his efforts. Now, Frieza had landed on Earth.
Why did he have to end up stuck on this miserable planet? Then again, where would he go? The only home he had ever known had been destroyed by the lizard that he was apparently going to present himself to. Living under Frieza's reign had been comparable to Hell, he knew this, seeing as though he had been killed once and the powers that be hadn't just let him lounge around sipping cocktails.
What was worse than suddenly finding the tyrant, who had destroyed everything you ever knew then held you in bondage nearly all your life in which he beat and tortured you, whom you believed to have been killed, suddenly show up at your doorstep apparently doing rather well, probably with the intent to beat and torture you some more, and then kill you again? Wearing a pink shirt besides. That was worse.
Didn't they have gender specific colors on this backwater planet? Of course, they couldn't even get past their own moon, which had actually been destroyed. Wasn't anyone upset by that move? He was sure someone was, what with the number of annoying songs he had heard dedicated to walks and rendevous under the moon. Someone had to be. Maybe oceanographers were. It would've disrupted the tides. If he lived, he would find an oceanographer and ask if he was upset with the absence of the moon.
Vegeta tried to refocus on the task at hand, which was climbing up a cliff. It ended up being too dull for him and his mind went back to wandering. If Kakkarot suddenly showed up and fought Frieza. the victor would be very badly off. He could then kill whoever remained, take over the planet, and introduce some new ideas. First, he would find whoever made this shirt, and send them to the next dimension, then, he would find whoever sold the shirt, and send them to the next dimension. The woman bought the shirt, but he would have already sent her to the next dimension for being loud. After he took care of that mess, he would explain the importance of gender specific colors and implement laws on his teachings where violators would be put to death. Finally, he would set to work about getting a new moon. He would probably have to destroy it immediately in demonstration of his power to quell an uprising against him. Then he'd kill the uprisers and get another moon.
The top of the cliff. Nice and level. He inched his way to peer over the edge, and saw Frieza's circular disc of a ship and a small battalion of armed nothings. There were twenty, maybe thirty, no it was twenty of them. Behind him, he heard the rest of the troupe reach the top and begin to fan themselves outward. He ignored them.
What was that crap all over Frieza? Oh. he was now part machine. Kakkarot did a number on him. He wondered if the lizard had feeling in his prosthetics. He decided he should ask him if he got the chance. He couldn't imagine Frieza would. Squinting, he saw a taller version of Frieza, minus the metal additions. King Cold. There was moron. The man defined moron, though he suspected Frieza probably surpassed his father. It would seem Kakkarot would have to kill them both, and end up clinging to life, then he could swoop down before anyone could think and kill the bastard. He doubted he would even have to concern himself with the henchmen, they would ideally have been killed in the battle. Upon further reflection, they would have been killed in the battle.
After watching the idiots mill around for nearly half an hour, the prince started to grow agitated. Sitting around doing nothing was not something he enjoyed, especially when there was a fight to be had. As if on impulse, he shot down, ignoring the muffled gasps from behind him. He entered with a bang, literally, he killed all of Frieza's men with a blast or two. He ignored the looks given him, save one: the surprise coming from Frieza.
"Vegeta, what are you wearing?" Frieza asked, shock ebbing his features. Vegeta started, that was not the reaction he had been expecting. He looked at himself, the pink shirt and yellow pants reminding him of what the woman had called a banana split. He had forgotten about what he was wearing.
"You don't look like yourself either," Vegeta replied, looking with disgust on Frieza's new alterations.
The disgust went unnoticed.
"You're wearing pink! Don't you know about gender specific colors?"
"Yes I know," Vegeta answered testily, "but no one else on this backwater planet seems to."
"So why are you wearing them?"
"They're what were put out for me. My regular ones are in the wash."
"Oh." Frieza replied, not quite knowing what to say due to the inadequacy of the situation. He cleared his throat, opened his mouth, and shut it again.
Vegeta felt he should have been put into a rather foul mood by this exchange, but he felt far away from the scene and therefore, didn't care so much. It was like watching oneself in a mirror or on television. He wondered if the people he saw on the t.v. watched themselves. Would it be weird to just turn on your telelvision set and find yourself looking back at you? It would be different from when you go into stores and they have camcorders hooked up to t.v.'s, because you wouldn't see the camera, and it would all be pre-recorded, he mused. Maybe he would get a camcorder and tape himself, then play it later and see if it was any weirder. Or was it that people you've never met and will never meet are also watching you that makes it weird? That was another thing to do. He decided if he lived, he would first find an oceanographer and ask if he was upset with the absence of the moon, then he would find someone on t.v. and ask them if it was weird to see themselves.
Frieza coughed.
The prince narrowed his eyes at the lizard.
"Is there something you wanted to say, Frieza?"
"Well," the lizard looked at Vegeta again before continuing, "I came here for a reason."
"Did you?"
"Yes, I was going to wipe out the planet's population, kill your super- saiyan friend, and then destroy it."
"That third-class is not my friend," Vegeta scowled.
"Fine, but I'm still going to do everything I said I would," Frieza said.
"Just as long as we're clear on that."
Frieza charged Vegeta, both ignoring the silent King Cold, who was frozen in shock, as they began. Vegeta side-stepped easily, seeing that Frieza was going to toy with him as the lizard shot past. He waited for Frieza to come back, but when nothing happened, Vegeta turned around to look.
Frieza was standing there, looking at Vegeta like the prince had three arms.
"Does your shirt say 'Badman'?" Frieza asked, mouth slightly agape. Vegeta rolled his eyes.
"Yes," he snapped.
"Why?"
"I don't know!"
"Why would anyone own a shirt like that?" Frieza asked, clearly puzzled. Vegeta looked down at himself once again, noting the cheap, pink plastic buttons and the bright pink thread holding the whole thing together. Why would anyone design such a shirt? Obviously, they got no enjoyment from their job, unless the enjoyment was derived from being sick. That's what the shirt was, he decided, sick. and sad, the shirt was also sad.
"Look, if it bothers you that much, I'll take it off," Vegeta said, proceeding to do just that. Then, he took it and threw it at the lizard, thinking to charge him while he was momentarily blinded, since Frieza had just let the article of clothing hit him in the face.
The explosion that engulfed the tyrant stopped him.
When the dust cleared, there was only a blackened spot where Frieza had stood. Vegeta looked around, suddenly seeing a golden haired boy charge at King Cold and impale him on a sword, then blowing him up as well. The final act of destruction was aimed at the ship.
Vegeta watched in disguised astonishment as the boy powered down and his hair bled into a lavender color.
"Were you wearing a pink shirt?"
* * *
Frieza looked around him. He had a feeling he knew exactly where he was at. The sudden arrival of his father didn't seem to bother him as he was distracted by what he held in his hand. It was pink.
Almost timidly, he draped the cloth over himself, and buttoned it up. He shivered.
It was definitely. odd.
Suddenly he relaxed and walked off, whistling to himself. After all, why should he be bothered? He wore lipstick and painted his nails.
* * *
THE END!
* * *
A/N: I'm not really sure what this was about, other than the pink shirt. I know, it was short, but how much can you really write of a fic that tries to center itself around a shirt?