A/n: There really isn't much to say...I got called a bitch today! It was
special!
Meliah: Um...k...
~Bulma's Thoughts~
The Greatest Fantasy
HELL NO!
Bulma sat in her lab working on capsulizing her motorcycle. It really wasn't progressing because of all the new features, she was having trouble getting the stupid thing to work. "Okay, this should do it..." Bulma announced to the empty room.
She pushed a small button on the front of the bike and held her breath. There was a small popping sound and the bike disappeared in a cloud of smoke. When the cloud cleared, there was a small black capsule lying on the ground in its place.
Dr. Briefs stood in the doorway of his daughter's lab, watching as she capsulized the motorcycle. He smiled when he saw that the procedure had worked, but then there was another popping sound and the bike reappeared.
"Dammit!" Bulma fumed, loudly. "Stupid, fucking, piece of shit!" She swiftly kicked the tire of the bike, only to hurt her foot. "Son of a bitch!"(A/n: Tsk, tsk, Bulma, such language!)
Dr. Briefs had never heard such foul language coming from the mouth of his teenager, and he was appalled. "Bulma! Watch your language! A young lady, such as yourself, should not use language like that!" he chided. "I didn't realize you had become so violent! I was going to try to talk your mother out of her idea, but now I see that perhaps you do need to be around others your own age..."
"Sorry, Dad, but what in the He-, I mean... what on Earth are you talking about?" she asked, truly confused as at to what her father was rambling about now.
"Your mother sent me down here to tell you to go help her with dinner, and that the two of you are going shopping for school clothes tomorrow," he replied.
~What in the hell is he talking about???~ "Um...Dad," Bulma started slowly, "don't you remember? I don't go to school. I haven't since we decided that I could test out of my classes in the 7th grade because there was no point in learning stuff that I already knew. No offense, or anything Dad, but I think you and Mom are getting senile with old age."
"Yes, yes Bulma Dear, but your mother is dead set on sending you to high school to have you interact with people your own age."
"OH, HELL NO! I WILL NOT GO TO HIGH SCHOOL! I HATED SCHOOL! EVERYONE WAS A LITTLE SUCK UP THAT WOULD DO ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING POSSIBLE FOR A GOOD GRADE! I HATED THOSE PEOPLE, AND I WILL NOT GO BACK TO THEM! YOU WILL HAVE TO FUCKING DRAG ME THERE TO GET ME TO GO!"
~~~~~~~~~~
Bulma sat in the front seat of the car, arms crossed, scowling at the world out the window. ~I can't believe this! I am not a child, I could have gotten to this wretched place without her driving me! Ok, maybe not. In fact, I probably wouldn't have gone at all, but still! At least I talked her out of making me wear that flowery shit... that's the one upside to this.~ She grinned mentally, yes, she had gotten past that. Her mother had done everything except beg on her knees to get Bulma to wear those clothes. She had agreed to go to this horrible place on one condition, she wore what she wanted. Bunni had wanted her to wear a short jean skirt and a pink flowered top to the first day of school, but Bulma had outright refused to do it. She instead wore her favorite pair of flare jeans and a shirt that had the words, 'Don't look at me and don't speak to me, and we'll get along just fine...' on it. Bulma had told her mother that it was a warning to anyone to anyone who she couldn't possibly tolerate to not dare to bother her, and she hoped that it worked.
They pulled up into the parking lot of the high school, and Bulma growled at the tall building before her.
Her mother looked at her daughter like she was clinically insane and asked, "Bulma, do you want me to go in with you?"
"No, that's ok Mom, I think that I've had about all the parent interaction that I can handle for the day. I think I can find the office by myself." She grabbed her bag, climbed out of the car, and slammed the door behind her. A few people smiled at her when they recognized her as the famous daughter of Dr. Briefs. She walked up to the main door and she glared at them all. Bulma wanted no part in this whole social thing. If she were forced to have friends, then they would not be the sort of people who considered themselves as the top of the chain and flaunted it around.
She got to the office without an incident. There she found an extremely cheery woman who gave her a schedule.
"Hello, Dear! You must be Bulma Briefs! Here's your schedule, if you have any questions just ask one of your teachers."
"I am not here to learn," Bulma replied to the overly cheery woman.
"Of course you are, Dear! Why else would your father send you to such a wonderful school? He is a genius after all! He knew that you would get the best education possible here!"
"Please!" Bulma rolled her eyes and muttered to herself, "Welcome to the first day of Hell..."
"Oh no, Dear! Today isn't a full day! It's only a half! Have fun in your new classes!" The cheery woman moved on to help the next person with their schedule.
"Thank, Kami, for small favors." Bulma muttered as she walked towards her first class. "Let's see here...lovely, they signed me up for all easy classes! Jefferson building, room 129, American Lit." She trudged up three flights of stairs to her first class.
Bulma pushed the door open and looked at all the other people in the room. There was a girl with a People magazine out, with Bulma's family on the cover.
"Oh my gosh!" the girl squeaked, "It's Bulma Briefs!" At this point the whole class looked up to the door to see Bulma glaring at them. "She sure looks different in person..." a girl whispered to her friend.
"Miss Briefs, why don't you tell us a little about yourself?" the teacher asked, smiling.
"Okay then. My name is Bulma, you will not call me Bulma, because you will not speak to me. I have no wish to socialize with you morons. I find you annoying and self-absorbed. I know that you must be thinking, 'Well she is stuck up!' You people annoy me to the point of insanity, and I've only been here for five minutes!"
The teacher and most of the class stared at her in awe. This wasn't the same girl that did the interviews or that was in all those photos of a smiling family. She was rude and evil, and she couldn't possibly be that girl. "Well, Miss Briefs, that was...interesting..." the teacher said. "You may take a seat."
While all of this was going on a teen with onyx eyes and a Widow's peak of black hair was staring intently at the girl who stood before him from the back row of the class.
Bulma walked to the back corner of the room where there was a blonde girl who was smiling happily at her. "Move!" Bulma barked. The blonde girl squeaked and jumped up out of the chair with her books and ran to the front of the room to get away from her. "That's what I thought..." Bulma sat down in the chair and started staring out the window when she felt a pair of eyes on her...
She turned around to see who was looking at her. "What the fuck do you want?"
A/n: Any ideas? R&R
Meliah: Um...k...
~Bulma's Thoughts~
The Greatest Fantasy
HELL NO!
Bulma sat in her lab working on capsulizing her motorcycle. It really wasn't progressing because of all the new features, she was having trouble getting the stupid thing to work. "Okay, this should do it..." Bulma announced to the empty room.
She pushed a small button on the front of the bike and held her breath. There was a small popping sound and the bike disappeared in a cloud of smoke. When the cloud cleared, there was a small black capsule lying on the ground in its place.
Dr. Briefs stood in the doorway of his daughter's lab, watching as she capsulized the motorcycle. He smiled when he saw that the procedure had worked, but then there was another popping sound and the bike reappeared.
"Dammit!" Bulma fumed, loudly. "Stupid, fucking, piece of shit!" She swiftly kicked the tire of the bike, only to hurt her foot. "Son of a bitch!"(A/n: Tsk, tsk, Bulma, such language!)
Dr. Briefs had never heard such foul language coming from the mouth of his teenager, and he was appalled. "Bulma! Watch your language! A young lady, such as yourself, should not use language like that!" he chided. "I didn't realize you had become so violent! I was going to try to talk your mother out of her idea, but now I see that perhaps you do need to be around others your own age..."
"Sorry, Dad, but what in the He-, I mean... what on Earth are you talking about?" she asked, truly confused as at to what her father was rambling about now.
"Your mother sent me down here to tell you to go help her with dinner, and that the two of you are going shopping for school clothes tomorrow," he replied.
~What in the hell is he talking about???~ "Um...Dad," Bulma started slowly, "don't you remember? I don't go to school. I haven't since we decided that I could test out of my classes in the 7th grade because there was no point in learning stuff that I already knew. No offense, or anything Dad, but I think you and Mom are getting senile with old age."
"Yes, yes Bulma Dear, but your mother is dead set on sending you to high school to have you interact with people your own age."
"OH, HELL NO! I WILL NOT GO TO HIGH SCHOOL! I HATED SCHOOL! EVERYONE WAS A LITTLE SUCK UP THAT WOULD DO ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING POSSIBLE FOR A GOOD GRADE! I HATED THOSE PEOPLE, AND I WILL NOT GO BACK TO THEM! YOU WILL HAVE TO FUCKING DRAG ME THERE TO GET ME TO GO!"
~~~~~~~~~~
Bulma sat in the front seat of the car, arms crossed, scowling at the world out the window. ~I can't believe this! I am not a child, I could have gotten to this wretched place without her driving me! Ok, maybe not. In fact, I probably wouldn't have gone at all, but still! At least I talked her out of making me wear that flowery shit... that's the one upside to this.~ She grinned mentally, yes, she had gotten past that. Her mother had done everything except beg on her knees to get Bulma to wear those clothes. She had agreed to go to this horrible place on one condition, she wore what she wanted. Bunni had wanted her to wear a short jean skirt and a pink flowered top to the first day of school, but Bulma had outright refused to do it. She instead wore her favorite pair of flare jeans and a shirt that had the words, 'Don't look at me and don't speak to me, and we'll get along just fine...' on it. Bulma had told her mother that it was a warning to anyone to anyone who she couldn't possibly tolerate to not dare to bother her, and she hoped that it worked.
They pulled up into the parking lot of the high school, and Bulma growled at the tall building before her.
Her mother looked at her daughter like she was clinically insane and asked, "Bulma, do you want me to go in with you?"
"No, that's ok Mom, I think that I've had about all the parent interaction that I can handle for the day. I think I can find the office by myself." She grabbed her bag, climbed out of the car, and slammed the door behind her. A few people smiled at her when they recognized her as the famous daughter of Dr. Briefs. She walked up to the main door and she glared at them all. Bulma wanted no part in this whole social thing. If she were forced to have friends, then they would not be the sort of people who considered themselves as the top of the chain and flaunted it around.
She got to the office without an incident. There she found an extremely cheery woman who gave her a schedule.
"Hello, Dear! You must be Bulma Briefs! Here's your schedule, if you have any questions just ask one of your teachers."
"I am not here to learn," Bulma replied to the overly cheery woman.
"Of course you are, Dear! Why else would your father send you to such a wonderful school? He is a genius after all! He knew that you would get the best education possible here!"
"Please!" Bulma rolled her eyes and muttered to herself, "Welcome to the first day of Hell..."
"Oh no, Dear! Today isn't a full day! It's only a half! Have fun in your new classes!" The cheery woman moved on to help the next person with their schedule.
"Thank, Kami, for small favors." Bulma muttered as she walked towards her first class. "Let's see here...lovely, they signed me up for all easy classes! Jefferson building, room 129, American Lit." She trudged up three flights of stairs to her first class.
Bulma pushed the door open and looked at all the other people in the room. There was a girl with a People magazine out, with Bulma's family on the cover.
"Oh my gosh!" the girl squeaked, "It's Bulma Briefs!" At this point the whole class looked up to the door to see Bulma glaring at them. "She sure looks different in person..." a girl whispered to her friend.
"Miss Briefs, why don't you tell us a little about yourself?" the teacher asked, smiling.
"Okay then. My name is Bulma, you will not call me Bulma, because you will not speak to me. I have no wish to socialize with you morons. I find you annoying and self-absorbed. I know that you must be thinking, 'Well she is stuck up!' You people annoy me to the point of insanity, and I've only been here for five minutes!"
The teacher and most of the class stared at her in awe. This wasn't the same girl that did the interviews or that was in all those photos of a smiling family. She was rude and evil, and she couldn't possibly be that girl. "Well, Miss Briefs, that was...interesting..." the teacher said. "You may take a seat."
While all of this was going on a teen with onyx eyes and a Widow's peak of black hair was staring intently at the girl who stood before him from the back row of the class.
Bulma walked to the back corner of the room where there was a blonde girl who was smiling happily at her. "Move!" Bulma barked. The blonde girl squeaked and jumped up out of the chair with her books and ran to the front of the room to get away from her. "That's what I thought..." Bulma sat down in the chair and started staring out the window when she felt a pair of eyes on her...
She turned around to see who was looking at her. "What the fuck do you want?"
A/n: Any ideas? R&R
