A Boy and His Dog
Tally Ho
Vegeta had to sit on the heels of his feet just so he could be eye level with the other man. He held the receiver against his ear, while his other hand supported him on the counter. He shifted his heels so they weren't digging into his buttocks, and sighed a haughty sigh. Pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes, he finally said, "Yeeah..." It was one of those evil, sarcastic yeahs. "And how do I know you're telling the truth?" the prince concluded.
Across from him, through a thick sheet of super Plexiglas, sat Freiza's right hand, also known as Zarbon. Zarbon was youthful and feminine, and coincidentally, also very pretty. He tied his luxurious green hair into a braided ponytail, and loved to get manicures and pedicures in his free time. He also had piercing yellow eyes and a way with women. In battle, he could make himself turn into something akin to a toad, and it was a really ugly one to boot. This magically made him win the fight. As much as there was known about Zarbon, there was never conclusive evidence to any rumor one way or the other. This is how Dodoria came to believe that he was a gypsy, and therefore, was scared shitless of him. Vegeta, however, thought he was just an asshole, and at the moment, a lying asshole at that.
"I have your proof," the alien countered calmly, "but if you want to chat it's going to cost you."
"What do I have that you want?" Vegeta wondered, seriously stumped.
"Radditz," Zarbon said with a dead pan expression.
"What the Hell is a radditz?" the child asked himself aloud, but then he dismissed the entire train of thought, "Forget it. It's yours."
"Thank you," Zarbon actually smiled now, "and here is your goods."
He stood and backed away from the window; then he walked out of sight. Vegeta sighed again, but this time it was more like a "god, I don't want to deal with this bullshit" kind of sigh. He then saw a large man blunder into his view. Large was pretty much an understatement. This guy was huge. His muscles bulged under the standard armor Freiza's soldiers were provided, and his legs were as thick as tree trunks - the big kind of tree trunks that come from big trees. Hey, Vegeta thought, he looks like...
The man picked up the phone, and he picked it up upside down.
"A big inept retard," Vegeta's thought concluded itself with a sense of mortified doom. This was a rare occasion where Vegeta wished his first impression had been incorrect. The other Saijin began to talk, but all the prince heard was a muffled baritone voice that sounded much like a thug gangster trying to sweet talk his way through an interview with someone as intellectual as The Architect from "The Matrix: Reloaded". With Vegeta being that Architect, in his mind, at that moment, he began to seriously believe that destruction was a form of construction.
In a fit of despair, and in a daring move to save his sanity, Vegeta dropped his phone and simply covered his face in shame. He felt shame for every last member of his race; every last brainless drone whose idea of "improving" their space shuttles and pods was to put spoilers on the end; every last ignorant cunt who wanted nice things like chrome-plated scouters and dishwasher safe glass fists; every last punk who wanted to be individualistic by dyeing their hair - as if some other mentally handicapped crack fiend hadn't done it before; every last military officer who thought to shoot first and ask questions later; and lastly, for this fine specimen before him that nearly proved that robots were the cure. Vegeta reached a point were he wished he could cry, but was glad that he did not.
On the other side of the super Plexiglas, another man approached the giant buffoon. He had long, black hair, and it was spiky as was characteristic of a Saijin (which he was). He was very big too, but not nearly so as the balding idiot. After his attempts to show the other man how to operate the phone were futile, he finally took the phone for himself and tapped on the glass. Vegeta looked up at the noise and picked up his end.
"Prince Vegeta," spoke a smooth, calm voice. The voice was of an elderly brother who always knew what to say said, "My name is Radditz, sir. I have been ranked third class." Mentally, Vegeta could see where this was going, so he only forced himself to nod. "This, sir," he gestured to the man next to him, "is Nappa. He's a first class general. He apologizes for whatever he said to upset you, my lord. He meant no ill intentions." Vegeta nodded minutely again.
Radditz shifted uncomfortably from leaning over so far, "Sir, we will obey you. My prince, what is your command?"
"Get me something to read," Vegeta was surprised with his own honesty, "It's boring in here."
"I can make no promises at the type of material I will be able to collect, or even if it will be in a language you have heard of."
The Prince of Saijins really didn't care at this point. In fact, he thought the more time consuming it was the better. If he had to translate something akin to sanskrit on this own..then so be it. He was about to say something else, what though, he wasn't sure. He was positive it didn't matter because when he opened his mouth to speak and the guard cut him off, he didn't mind.
"Time's up," his cell block guard said, "Say goodbye, and let's go."
Radditz frowned, hating to see his prince being degraded like this. The leader of such a powerful race should not be treated like a common prisoner. Instead of talking about the injustice, he said, "Lord Vegeta, I will be in contact with you shortly."
"Yeah," Vegeta replied, "Okay." And he hung up the phone.
Tally Ho
Vegeta had to sit on the heels of his feet just so he could be eye level with the other man. He held the receiver against his ear, while his other hand supported him on the counter. He shifted his heels so they weren't digging into his buttocks, and sighed a haughty sigh. Pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes, he finally said, "Yeeah..." It was one of those evil, sarcastic yeahs. "And how do I know you're telling the truth?" the prince concluded.
Across from him, through a thick sheet of super Plexiglas, sat Freiza's right hand, also known as Zarbon. Zarbon was youthful and feminine, and coincidentally, also very pretty. He tied his luxurious green hair into a braided ponytail, and loved to get manicures and pedicures in his free time. He also had piercing yellow eyes and a way with women. In battle, he could make himself turn into something akin to a toad, and it was a really ugly one to boot. This magically made him win the fight. As much as there was known about Zarbon, there was never conclusive evidence to any rumor one way or the other. This is how Dodoria came to believe that he was a gypsy, and therefore, was scared shitless of him. Vegeta, however, thought he was just an asshole, and at the moment, a lying asshole at that.
"I have your proof," the alien countered calmly, "but if you want to chat it's going to cost you."
"What do I have that you want?" Vegeta wondered, seriously stumped.
"Radditz," Zarbon said with a dead pan expression.
"What the Hell is a radditz?" the child asked himself aloud, but then he dismissed the entire train of thought, "Forget it. It's yours."
"Thank you," Zarbon actually smiled now, "and here is your goods."
He stood and backed away from the window; then he walked out of sight. Vegeta sighed again, but this time it was more like a "god, I don't want to deal with this bullshit" kind of sigh. He then saw a large man blunder into his view. Large was pretty much an understatement. This guy was huge. His muscles bulged under the standard armor Freiza's soldiers were provided, and his legs were as thick as tree trunks - the big kind of tree trunks that come from big trees. Hey, Vegeta thought, he looks like...
The man picked up the phone, and he picked it up upside down.
"A big inept retard," Vegeta's thought concluded itself with a sense of mortified doom. This was a rare occasion where Vegeta wished his first impression had been incorrect. The other Saijin began to talk, but all the prince heard was a muffled baritone voice that sounded much like a thug gangster trying to sweet talk his way through an interview with someone as intellectual as The Architect from "The Matrix: Reloaded". With Vegeta being that Architect, in his mind, at that moment, he began to seriously believe that destruction was a form of construction.
In a fit of despair, and in a daring move to save his sanity, Vegeta dropped his phone and simply covered his face in shame. He felt shame for every last member of his race; every last brainless drone whose idea of "improving" their space shuttles and pods was to put spoilers on the end; every last ignorant cunt who wanted nice things like chrome-plated scouters and dishwasher safe glass fists; every last punk who wanted to be individualistic by dyeing their hair - as if some other mentally handicapped crack fiend hadn't done it before; every last military officer who thought to shoot first and ask questions later; and lastly, for this fine specimen before him that nearly proved that robots were the cure. Vegeta reached a point were he wished he could cry, but was glad that he did not.
On the other side of the super Plexiglas, another man approached the giant buffoon. He had long, black hair, and it was spiky as was characteristic of a Saijin (which he was). He was very big too, but not nearly so as the balding idiot. After his attempts to show the other man how to operate the phone were futile, he finally took the phone for himself and tapped on the glass. Vegeta looked up at the noise and picked up his end.
"Prince Vegeta," spoke a smooth, calm voice. The voice was of an elderly brother who always knew what to say said, "My name is Radditz, sir. I have been ranked third class." Mentally, Vegeta could see where this was going, so he only forced himself to nod. "This, sir," he gestured to the man next to him, "is Nappa. He's a first class general. He apologizes for whatever he said to upset you, my lord. He meant no ill intentions." Vegeta nodded minutely again.
Radditz shifted uncomfortably from leaning over so far, "Sir, we will obey you. My prince, what is your command?"
"Get me something to read," Vegeta was surprised with his own honesty, "It's boring in here."
"I can make no promises at the type of material I will be able to collect, or even if it will be in a language you have heard of."
The Prince of Saijins really didn't care at this point. In fact, he thought the more time consuming it was the better. If he had to translate something akin to sanskrit on this own..then so be it. He was about to say something else, what though, he wasn't sure. He was positive it didn't matter because when he opened his mouth to speak and the guard cut him off, he didn't mind.
"Time's up," his cell block guard said, "Say goodbye, and let's go."
Radditz frowned, hating to see his prince being degraded like this. The leader of such a powerful race should not be treated like a common prisoner. Instead of talking about the injustice, he said, "Lord Vegeta, I will be in contact with you shortly."
"Yeah," Vegeta replied, "Okay." And he hung up the phone.