Misfortune Rages Rampant

"Fortune knocks but once, but misfortune has much more patience."-Dr. Laurence J. Peter

After a failed attempt to intrepidly withstand his mother's invective—an assortment of accusations of his general insubordination—Son Gohan wearily trudged down the hall into his room. He was going to school, and there wasn't even a remote possibility of it being otherwise. What was even more perplexing than his mother's abrupt decision for him to attend school, was that he was going to go to a high school located in Satan City, the closest municipality from his isolated dwelling. He didn't think that Satan City being the closest was going to hamper his routine anyway, distance wouldn't matter; after all flying does make morning commuter traffic obsolete.

Why Satan City, he thought a little despondently, all it would be is a big reminder of how I failed my father and how I let the living reincarnation of Bozo the Clown steal the merit for saving the world.

He chuckled dryly, remembering the aftermath of the Cell games. Mr. Satan was a real opportunist; he easily manipulated the press to his advantage, making him an extremely popular overnight commodity. Well, all that must be buried, deeply at that, in to the dark recesses of his mind. He needed to be sharp the next morning, his enrolment and then subsequent high school career were on the verge of becoming a reality, an unwanted reality at best.

Well, it can't be that bad, I'll get to meet some interesting people, make friends, and generally get to socialize with people my own age for a change. It's one thing to be affiliated with an extremely laconic Namek, an overbearing narcissistic Prince bent on being the sole possessor of the world's ego, a female prodigy prone to impulsive mood-swings, a formerly bald monk bent on being my self-proclaimed tormentor, two hyper-active kids with an unquenchable thirst to annoy, and an overprotective mother bent on making my life HELL…

As anyone would observe, Son Gohan really needed to obtain a slight thing the general contemporary populace would like to call a LIFE, and quickly for that matter. Soon, the modus operandi for achieving such a vital goal would come into being, and with any luck, he would finally be doing something "normal" for a change.

********************

"Gohan, get up! You're going to be late for school, and on the FIRST DAY! You can't possibly afford to give a bad impression on your first day, it's not…"

And the lecture from hell emanating from the kitchen continued, solely inspired by an insatiable need for scholarly success.

"Hmm…?" A large yawn subsequently followed, with Gohan kicking of his sheets and drowsily heading in the general direction of the bathroom. He got there, only to realize that he wasn't wearing anything, not anything…not a single thread of fiber clad on his body…

How did that happen?

He never slept completely naked; at most he would have had on his teddy bear underwear, a little small and constricting, but clothes nevertheless. He quickly dashed back into his room, his facial coloring slowly varying to that of a ripe tomato, and then surprisingly close to that of his crimson window curtains. He frantically looked about, panic evident in his eyes. His boxer shorts couldn't of just disappeared; there must be a logical solution.

"Oh Gohan, looking for these?" The voice was sickly sweet, coated layer upon layer with insincerity. In the lavender-haired boy's hand clipped with a cloth peg was one teddy bear underwear.

With slight trepidation, the teen pivoted doing a 180-degree turn, eyes resting upon the infernal duo of mass destruction. The collateral damage these two runts can cause is more severe then any nation can willfully perform through its largest contingent army.

"You know big brother, you shouldn't really flash us like that. We aren't into that sorta thing you know." The other, equally dangerous, counter-part quipped.

"Did you just take a shower?" Trunks asked, amiably restraining the laughter threatening to burst out from him like an erupting volcano. Gohan's face was getting progressively redder; at this rate steam should have been protruding out of his ears and nostrils.

"Why would you ask that Trunks? He doesn't have any water on him." A slightly confused Goten asked, not catching the drift of his accomplice.

"Well Goten, I can't think of any other way to account for the shrinkage!"

"Why you little…" The scarlet-faced teen attempted a rather gauche lunge at the two brats, only managing to collide head first with his door, as Trunks had calmly closed the door prior to the aforementioned murder attempt.

"Ouch!" The dazed boy grabbed his head immediately, rubbing his rump ruefully. "When I'm done with you both, there won't be enough left to fit in a goddamned matchbox!"

He flung his door open, and raced down the hall towards the living area. As soon as he entered he slammed on the brakes, scanning the vicinity for any sign of the two brats, who, in Gohan's eyes, were condemned without any possibility of parole to death row.

Parole? On death row?

"Gohan!" An astonished Bulma shrieked, turning around rather quickly as a tinge of red infiltrated her well-defined cheeks.

"Oh my…SON GOHAN! Why in the name of all that is holy are you not wearing clothes!? I THOUGHT I TAUGHT YOU BETTER THAN THAT!"

Gohan quickly realized that, much to his dismay, he had conveniently forgot about his current state of nudity…

Not good, not good. Must kill kids…must kill kids…must kill…

Shutup you bonehead! Go put on some goddamn clothes before further embarrassment!!

Gohan fled back to his room as fast as his ki could carry him, he was surprised that a sonic boom didn't ensue from his blistering pace. He quickly got a change of clothes, entered the washroom, hastily showered, and returned. This time making sure that he had something guarding his modesty.

He came back, rage forgotten, only embarrassment showing for his wanton attempt to punish the kids. "Err…He he. Hi Bulma-san. What brings you here this early?" Gohan immediately assumed Goku-mode, with the patented sheepish smile and the back-of-the-head rub.

Not completely recovered from her shock, Bulma just nodded, then proceeded to take her cup of morning coffee outside, muttering something about keeping the devil children segregated as much as possible. The image replayed in her head once again, as another onslaught of red attacked her cheeks.

Damn, that is one toned body…not to mention…Stop!

"Gohan, can you please explain to me why you made Bulma go into a state of subconscious shock, by flashing her—and everyone here—YOUR PRIVATE PARTS!?"

"MOM!" The voice betrayed a tinge of exasperation, "Why don't you say that a little louder, I'm sure the kids in SATAN CITY didn't hear you!?"

"You listen to me mister, I will not tolerate sarcasm. Do you understand me?"

"Uhh…sorry. Can we drop the subject now?" Gohan sighed a breath of relief, as his mother, eyes slit and a frown clearly evident, placed a plate generously piled high with various foods on the table. He attacked it immediately, wanting to get out of this torture chamber as quickly as his appetite would allow. After swallowing what seemed to be his 15th serving, he patted his full stomach, and promptly grabbed his book bag heading for the door rather quickly.

"You hold it mister."

"Uhh…yeah mom?"

"Well," his mother waited expectantly for something.

"Well what?"

"Well, AREN'T YOU GOING TO SAY GOODBYE!?"

"Yikes! Oh yeah, " the teen rushed up to her, gave her kiss on the cheek, then turned around and sprinted out the door and up in the air, yelling goodbye to his mother and Bulma, who presently was taking a breather by a tree adjacent to the house.

"Gohan, remember to eat your lunch!" She then paused, pondering over the stupidity of her statement. She was telling the son of Goku, to remember, to eat his lunch. Assuredly it would be the dawn of Armageddon if a saiya-jin managed to forget mealtime.

"Oooh, my baby has grown up so much," squealed the older woman in an obvious showing of a mixture of pride, and remorse.

**********************

"Whew, that was one hell of a morning. Maybe it's a premonition of things to come?" Son Gohan pondered over the implications of that statement, shuddering involuntarily. He had already reached Satan City, a good 20 minute fly from his home, and was currently swooping down into a deserted alleyway.

Better not let anyone see me flying, if I'm to maintain some semblance of normalcy here.

He then proceeded to run towards Orange Star High School, his new hell. He saw the structure up ahead, it looked like an average rendition of a school, with a parking lot adjacent to the school. Gohan immediately concluded from speedy analysis the faulty juxtaposition, rationalizing that traffic would have flowed much smoother if the parking lot entrance had been separate from the school.

That is why you need a life Gohan, stop acting so nerdy, he reprimanded himself.

He ran inside, then proceeded to walk briskly to the Office. It was a normal school office, with the high counter from where the secretary stood, administering absentees and student problems.

"Hello miss, can you please direct me to the enrolment office?" He asked as politely as he could, retaining some semblance of the manners his mom thrust upon him in his formulative years.

"Enrolment office? No, no, there isn't any enrolment office. Just go the guidance office and ask for the registrar, I trust you have already filled out the enrolment forms." There was a hint of sarcasm evident in the way she said forms, but Gohan shrugged it off, surmising that he had first day jitters and was imagining things.

"Yes ma'am, I filled out the forms," consciously remembering where he had put them, "I have them right here," he confirmed as he pulled it out of his pocket.

"Ok, go outside, take a left and walk at the end of the hall. There is a sign that says Guidance Office, even you can't miss it."

"Umm, Ok, Thanks!" The secretary sweat-dropped as the new kid didn't even notice the mockery in her voice. Ah well, the advantages of being naïve.

***********

"Oh Come on, OPEN UP!" Thunderous pounding resounded throughout the office space. The aggravated person waited a couple of seconds, and then resumed his pounding.

"Geez, what the hell are you doing there?!" There was a slight tone of discomfort palpable in the voice.

"HEY! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU! PERVERT! STOP POUNDING ON THE DOOR WHILE I'M IN THE WASHROOM!" An irate woman's voice shrieked from inside the object of dispute.

"Eep," the man looked at his desk with a little discomfort, terror apparent on his ashen face. "I, can't…hold…it much…longer…" he whispered to no one in particular.

He slowly, taking small deliberate steps, walked towards his desk.

Gohan entered the guidance department, and by taking a quick calculating glance around it he gathered that only one person was present in the main room, and he surmised that most of the others were in the offices that branched off from the main room. He could hear the lively cacophony of telephones ringing, people speaking, files being shuffled and file cabinets being closed; the sounds emanating from the said offices. He looked at the only man present in the main room, a man in about his mid-thirties, slightly plump with short brown hair closely cropped covering his forehead. He appeared to be spaced out, a little discomfort clearly reflected as his mouth was clenched tightly.

"Excuse me sir," Gohan asked politely, waiting patiently for a response. The man just stood there, currently still adhering to his zoned out stare.

"Um, Excuse me, are you awake?" Gohan waved his hand in front of his vacant stare, still eliciting no response. It looked like the man was in deep contemplation, or was forcibly doing something, as his concentrated stare betrayed.

"EXCUSE ME!" Gohan shouted, fast becoming annoyed at being ignored.

"YIPES!" The man jumped, quickly bending his back a little, while he apparently tried to squeeze his legs even tighter, "Not so loud. I could of…had an accident…" he trailed off a bit, straining himself, "You don't know how this feels… the pain…"

"What are you talking about?" Gohan was obviously perplexed at this man's incessant babbling of some obscure topic, so he decided to leave his question unanswered as he quickly asked another one. "Can you tell me where the registrar's office is? Please."

"Ooh…that way…" The man winced as he pointed a shaky finger towards the corner office.

"Are you okay?" Gohan narrowed his eyes a bit, a little worried at the man's antics.

"Oh yeah…fine and dandy…just…Ah!" The man's eyes bulged, as he tried to squeeze his legs even tighter, if that was possible. After a few agonizing moments, his face reverted back to its not-so-strained predecessor.

"Okay," Gohan said, a bit disbelievingly, but again chalking it up to first day anxiety he continued towards the little corner office. Knocking politely, he heard a "come in" emitted from inside permitting entrance.

"Ah, you must be the new student," then noticing the confusion creep into the new boy's face, "The office alerted me that you would be coming."

"Oh. Well, Hi, I'm Son Gohan." He cheerily quipped, trying to mask all the animosity he felt for his new school.

"Hi, I'm Mrs. Taylor. As you already know, I'm the school registrar. Do you have your enrolment papers?"

"Oh yes, right here," Gohan reached into his pocked and withdrew the neatly folded sheet of paper, and then handed it to the elderly woman.

"Thank you," she said as she started typing on her computer. Gohan waited patiently by her desk, for about 5 minutes he assumed, until she was finally done.

"Well, you have taken the entrance exam, and I see your scores were superb, well, actually, they were perfect. Since you don't have any grades being transferred from any other school your guidance counselor will help you pick out your courses."

"Thanks, um, who is my counselor?"

"Right this way," she led him to another small office, where a tall man was talking on the phone. He waved a greeting to them both, and motioned for Gohan to sit down. The registrar left her computer printout on his desk.

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"Oh geez…oh geez…I can make it…I can make…AHH…no I can't…" The strange man was not one who frequently engaged in pep talks, especially to himself, but this was an extreme situation which demanded extreme measures. He was in his own world, wallowing in his pool of agony, completely oblivious to the environment around him.

The woman exited the washroom, a distinct scowl plastered on her face. She briskly walked up to the strange portly fellow who was presently zoned out, staring off into space. Apparently he didn't notice her stand right in his face, her narrowed eyes and balled fist an evil foreshadowing of things to come, and yelled at the top of her lungs. "WERE YOU THE BASTARD THAT BANGED ON THE DOOR!!"

"AHHHH!!!" The poor man's body stiffened as his face constricted into an agonizing scream, his mouth gaping open and fists clenched tightly, and his lower body unusually moved, like it was in a fit of spasm, rocking to and fro. Soon his gaping mouth vanished, as relief flooded into his chubby face, and a small smile soon encroached his lips. His pants were gradually darkening, the dark patch speedily enlarging as it corrupted his new trousers.

"EWWWW!!! What the hell are you doing?!"

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After what seemed ages of chitchatting about his grades and such with the counselor Gohan finally had completed his selection of courses and received his timetable. He could have sworn that he heard yelling from outside the closed office, but he didn't think much of it. With that, he bid farewell to the kind man, and then proceeded on to his first course, which he observed, was Literature. As he was about to leave, he shot a questioning glance at the strange rotund fellow from before, who was still standing there, face aghast, reflecting evident disbelief. Gohan observed a dark patch at the middle part of his trousers, his eyebrows immediately shooting up.

"Hey, nice pants, I never saw a style like that before." If he hadn't used such a genuine complimentary tone, it would have unquestionably passed off as a sarcastic jibe at the man's misfortune. Gohan couldn't believe that they made pants like those, and how come he hadn't seen that patch there before? It sure was weird, but he had literature to attend to so he shuffled out of the guidance office pondering over the new fashion trends.

In the office the unfortunate fool stood, his pants stiffening, the air making the hardening patch quite cold on his thighs, contemplating suicide.

(A/N- On a completely unrelated note, well, it does have some thing to do with the chapter. Here is a quote I came across I find quite humorous.)

"A man's mother is his misfortune, but his wife is his fault."

Walter Bagehot (1826 - 1877)