CHAPTER THREE: THE GINYU FORCE'S HORRIBLE REALISATION! THE SOURCE OF ALL
POWER!! Well, at least that means the end of them...
Trunks stopped in mid stride, holding the milk carton in one hand. What was that he heard? Was it...the television?
It wouldn't be his dad. He never watched T.V. said it rots your brain. Trunks didn't pay much attention to his warnings, though. He was rather fond of watching anvils falling on people. Besides, his dad never came downstairs anymore since the salamander guy had started living with them. Not unless he was fully armed with a chainsaw, plastic explosives, and a rabid wolverine.
As he peered around the corner he realised it was one of the freaks. One of the freaks. Which one? There were five of them...
Oh. It was the Irish one. It was hard to tell. There was the Australian one, the animal sounding one, the Irish one, the slow one, and the womanly one.
"Jace?" he thought that was his name.
The white cotton ball resembling hairpiece moved.
"Yeah, kid?"
"What'cha watchin'?" Trunks asked.
Jace blinked. "n-nothing...shouldn't you be in bed?"
Trunks noticed the mans pants were down and he was quickly trying in vain to seal up the lubricant and change the channel.
Next on 'Playmates'...watch as we explore the—
The purple 'MUTE' words appeared on screen. Trunks remained oblivious.
"So...what're you doing up so late?" Jace asked once his pants, (black speedos, to be politically correct) were in place.
"I can't sleep. Can I watch t.v with you?"
"You know...I'm really busy kid...."
"Please!!?"
Jace thought it wise as not to anger the kid. He'd heard about halfbreeds and their temper tantrums. Most didn't get out alive.
"Sure." He patted the space beside him. Trunks eagerly sat down.
Jace didn't say anything, but instead handed the remote to Trunks. "Here. You pick. Just steer clear of channel 69, okay?"
Trunks agreed, and started flipping channels. Nothing looked to interesting, nothing much except for a man with a bandanna and a greased chest wearing leather pants and a sparkly belt who was dancing wildly across the stage he was on. Actually, truth be known, it looked rather frightening.
Jace lunged at the screen. "Who is that!!??" he cried, pointing with a gloved finger.
"Ummm..." Trunks paused, then looked for the channel guide. "Lord of the Dance?"
"LORD OF THE DANCE!? THAT'S MY TITLE!! THAT'S THE GINYU FORCE'S TITLE, DAMMIT!!"
"Shut up, will you?" Trunks asked, annoyed. "People are sleeping, you dumbass."
With an Erie shock he realised he was starting to sound a lot like his father. As if being almost identical wasn't bad enough...
Jace calmed himself and sat back. After a while of watching the mans antics, Jace spoke up.
"I must have it."
"What?" Trunks asked, curious.
"His source of all power."
Trunks looked at Jace.
"Yessssssss....the belt...his source of ultimate powah..."
For added effect, thunder boomed loudly in the distance.
"His belt?"
"Don't you see? When the other guy stole his belt, he just started to suck! This guys a threat, man! We can't have him upstaging us! We have a reputation to uphold, dammit!"
Trunks nodded. "Uh huh." He said without much feeling.
"So," Jace said, getting up from the couch, "I'm going to have to leave. I need to get the belt. Sure, it'll be dangerous. But it's what I must do. The Force is feeling threatened...I have to make this sacrifice."
Trunks looked unsure. "Isn't the force that skywalker dudes trademark?"
Another silence. Crickets chirped.
"You numb nuts, I meant the Ginyu Force. Now try not to be to upset...because of my leaving and all. Tell Lord Freiza to get a life...but leave out the part about me saying it, alright?"
"Uh huh."
"I'm off now. I'll go wake the others...you go back to sleep. And remember...stay away from channel 69. Those are words to live by. You don't want to turn out like me, do you?"
Trunks quickly shook his head.
Jace grinned. "That's a smart boy."
And then, without another word, he pulled out a harp and was promptly gone.
"Thank God." Was all trunks said, as he lifted the remote and switched on the glow-in-the-dark button. "Now...where was that 69..."
Trunks stopped in mid stride, holding the milk carton in one hand. What was that he heard? Was it...the television?
It wouldn't be his dad. He never watched T.V. said it rots your brain. Trunks didn't pay much attention to his warnings, though. He was rather fond of watching anvils falling on people. Besides, his dad never came downstairs anymore since the salamander guy had started living with them. Not unless he was fully armed with a chainsaw, plastic explosives, and a rabid wolverine.
As he peered around the corner he realised it was one of the freaks. One of the freaks. Which one? There were five of them...
Oh. It was the Irish one. It was hard to tell. There was the Australian one, the animal sounding one, the Irish one, the slow one, and the womanly one.
"Jace?" he thought that was his name.
The white cotton ball resembling hairpiece moved.
"Yeah, kid?"
"What'cha watchin'?" Trunks asked.
Jace blinked. "n-nothing...shouldn't you be in bed?"
Trunks noticed the mans pants were down and he was quickly trying in vain to seal up the lubricant and change the channel.
Next on 'Playmates'...watch as we explore the—
The purple 'MUTE' words appeared on screen. Trunks remained oblivious.
"So...what're you doing up so late?" Jace asked once his pants, (black speedos, to be politically correct) were in place.
"I can't sleep. Can I watch t.v with you?"
"You know...I'm really busy kid...."
"Please!!?"
Jace thought it wise as not to anger the kid. He'd heard about halfbreeds and their temper tantrums. Most didn't get out alive.
"Sure." He patted the space beside him. Trunks eagerly sat down.
Jace didn't say anything, but instead handed the remote to Trunks. "Here. You pick. Just steer clear of channel 69, okay?"
Trunks agreed, and started flipping channels. Nothing looked to interesting, nothing much except for a man with a bandanna and a greased chest wearing leather pants and a sparkly belt who was dancing wildly across the stage he was on. Actually, truth be known, it looked rather frightening.
Jace lunged at the screen. "Who is that!!??" he cried, pointing with a gloved finger.
"Ummm..." Trunks paused, then looked for the channel guide. "Lord of the Dance?"
"LORD OF THE DANCE!? THAT'S MY TITLE!! THAT'S THE GINYU FORCE'S TITLE, DAMMIT!!"
"Shut up, will you?" Trunks asked, annoyed. "People are sleeping, you dumbass."
With an Erie shock he realised he was starting to sound a lot like his father. As if being almost identical wasn't bad enough...
Jace calmed himself and sat back. After a while of watching the mans antics, Jace spoke up.
"I must have it."
"What?" Trunks asked, curious.
"His source of all power."
Trunks looked at Jace.
"Yessssssss....the belt...his source of ultimate powah..."
For added effect, thunder boomed loudly in the distance.
"His belt?"
"Don't you see? When the other guy stole his belt, he just started to suck! This guys a threat, man! We can't have him upstaging us! We have a reputation to uphold, dammit!"
Trunks nodded. "Uh huh." He said without much feeling.
"So," Jace said, getting up from the couch, "I'm going to have to leave. I need to get the belt. Sure, it'll be dangerous. But it's what I must do. The Force is feeling threatened...I have to make this sacrifice."
Trunks looked unsure. "Isn't the force that skywalker dudes trademark?"
Another silence. Crickets chirped.
"You numb nuts, I meant the Ginyu Force. Now try not to be to upset...because of my leaving and all. Tell Lord Freiza to get a life...but leave out the part about me saying it, alright?"
"Uh huh."
"I'm off now. I'll go wake the others...you go back to sleep. And remember...stay away from channel 69. Those are words to live by. You don't want to turn out like me, do you?"
Trunks quickly shook his head.
Jace grinned. "That's a smart boy."
And then, without another word, he pulled out a harp and was promptly gone.
"Thank God." Was all trunks said, as he lifted the remote and switched on the glow-in-the-dark button. "Now...where was that 69..."