DH88 - Thanks buddy!
SilverWolfe - I am getting better at fights? YEAH!! Yeah, I really don't know how to chat up girls, but I've had that line used on me before.
Richard - Actually, YGO is taking less than DBUF. My computer has been really (censored) up! And no, no way am I making this a full-on crossover. Cameos are to be expected when this epic goes way too long. This will be out for another couple of years at least.
chibibaka - It has been tooo long! Sorry for not writing!
CatStar - hiya! the fight was that good, huh? Great!
Davifflaelan - Go for it! Attack the purple Tellatubbie too!
.
.
Una: Wow... This is weird.
Yugi: Nan desuka, Una-san?
Una: These are chapters I wrote four years ago, way back when I had a website called "Una's Sky Palace."
Bardock: So?
Una: My writing style has changed a bit.
Yami: How?
Una: You'll see.
.
.
Episode 4
Plot for Revenge! The Escape from Hell
The orange-yellow sky had no sun. It didn't have any birds or planes. Yet it was this sky that she stared at day after day. There was something wonderful beyond it, she just wasn't exactly sure what it was.
There was no way to get there. She couldn't escape her eternal prison. She was dead, and this was Hell. The reason why she was here was a non-existent memory. As far as she knew, she had always been here. Here, with her stepmother Triga, [2] brought up learning the Dolarian way of the dark arts and language. She had been schooled in many languages, her best being Hispan, Basic, and Nihongo. [1]
She did, however, know that she once had a life of some sort. Something told her she didn't belong in Hell. She had been loved. Not in the sexual sense, but in the deeply emotional. There was someone she was connected with in that place beyond the orange sky.
Her reflection in the nearby lake, Lake Blood, did not feel right. Triga had her wear heavy make-up. Her lipstick and eye make-up were black. Her outfit was black with white pearls. Her long nails were painted black. This image, as well as this girl, was known as Cyra. [2] Cyra didn't call herself "Cyra" because she wanted to know her original name first.
There was one clue as to what race she was, though. When she got very angry, or powered up as high as she could, her power increased, her hair turned bright orange, and her eyes turned greenish-blue. Triga preferred her like this; her hair was orange, too.
Just then, Triga flew past at top speed, clutching something. If one wasn't careful, one could mistake to Dolarian for a black and orange football.
Vamonos, Mihija, she called out to her daughter.
.
.
Triga and Cyra were hidden in Mt. Needle to evade the ogres. Triga took off her hood and held up her prize. Mira, hija, she said in Dolarian. Esta es una fruta "ambrosia," la fruta de los dios!
Cyra stared at the fruit with wonder. Que maravilla, she murmured. She switched her language to Nihongo. "But, why did you steal the fruit of the gods?"
"Baka," snapped Triga caressing the red treasure. "Anyone who eats this and is dead will be granted life! We could go back to the real world and conquer it at last!"
Cyra's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Maybe we'll even find some new and impressive fighters, try new exotic foods, find my real parents..."
Triga looked up at her as if she had been wounded. "C-Cyra, child, why would you do that?" She looked down sadly. "Oh, I see, you don't love your Triga. The only one in this God-forsaken place to raise you!"
"Oh, no! No! That's not what I meant at all! Its just that, I want to know where I come from."
Triga sighed. "Triga didn't want to tell you this until you were a little older, but..." She sat down and waited for Cyra to do the same. "Triga knows what kind of alien you are."
A hot anger rushed through Cyra. "You knew!?!" she screamed. "Why haven't you told me sooner!?!"
"Please, hija, callate. I haven't told you because your people have an awful history. You are," Triga paused. "You're a Sayin!
"The Sayins were a race of blood-thirsty warriors, who cared for nothing but themselves. They would massacre entire species of people, just for their own profit. All lives other then their own meant nothing to them. Whoever killed them must be a saint!" [AN - Ah, the irony]
Cyra gasped. "You mean, there are no more anyway?"
"No, there are a few left. In fact, they live on the very planet we are going to once we are resurrected." Triga bent down and whispered, "You see, Triga heard of a planet that has these seven magic balls called 'dragonballs.' If all seven are collected, a wish is granted."
"Is there a way out of Hell?"
"Yes, and I know we'll be out of here within the hour!"
.
.
It was a sunny, winter day in the Potzu Mountains. The sun glistened off of the newly fallen Christmas snow, making the forests look serene.
Unfortunately, the Son household was far from serene. Shouts could be heard from miles away. They were coming from Son Chichi, wife of Son Goku. She was criticizing Goku about the Christmas gift he had given her the day before: a new no-stick frying pan!
At that time, Prince Vegeta was traveling to his allies' house on his brand-new motorcycle. He was wearing tan pants, a long sleeved, blue shirt and sunglasses. His black hair blew behind him as he sped through the forests of the mountains. Only once did a tree too large to go around come in front of him, but one small Big Bang Attack took care of it.
He pulled up and stopped in front of the simple homestead just in time to see the couple emerge. Goku, chased by Chichi, was rushing out, asking for the eleventh time why Chichi didn't like her gift. She was flailing the pan over her head, threatening to stick the pan in place that not even the powerful Super Sayin could stand! Gohan, Goten, and Chile could be seen from the doorway laughing uncontrollably.
Vegeta took off his sunglasses, an anime sweatdrop forming on his brow. This is one of the most powerful beings in the universe!
Goku gave one final yelp before tripping on a rock and falling face first in the snow. He skidded to a stop right at Vegeta's feet. He looked up, teeth chattering, and smiled. "Heya, Vegeta," he chattered. "Merry Late Christmas!"
Vegeta looked first at Chichi, who had stopped dead at the sight of Vegeta, and then back to Goku with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. "You, Kakkarot, are..." he paused and shook his head. "No, I won't say a word. This is way too easy."
Chile stepped out, wiping the tears of laughter out of his eyes. "Hello, Vegeta-sama," he panted, still not quite over his fit. "You're looking well."
Vegeta straitened up and smiled. Hearing his proper title from whom he had dubbed a "proper Sayin" was somewhat refreshing. "I only came to invite you all to a New Year's Eve party Bulma is throwing. All of the members of Capsul Corp will be there, it is most likely to be a bore!"
Chichi snorted at Vegeta's comment. Vegeta in turn glared at her. How can Kakkarot be at the mercy of this weakling!! It was common knowledge among the Z fighters that Chichi was the only one who had the upper hand over Goku; Goku loved her dearly, no matter how much abuse she gave him (she cooked his meals!). However, people like Vegeta refused to take any orders from her, and getting at Goku in any way was a bonus in his book. "If you would rather not attend, I'll simply tell her that you were the one to turn down the invitation."
The Earth woman turned her nose to the air, away from Vegeta. "We will go," is all she said.
"Alright," cheered Goten, jumping up into the air. Gohan, always trying to avoid an obvious conflict (and seeing an imminent one between his mother and Vegeta), changed the focus to Vegeta's motorcycle. "So, Vegeta-san," he said politely, "when did you get the bike?"
Chile began circling it. "Its a beaut', Sire!"
Goku tilted his head in a teasing fashion. "I didn't think you'd need it, Vegeta? Slacking off on your training?"
Another immortal rule among the Z fighters was simple: Don't make Vegeta mad if you can help it! Vegeta sneered and turned on Goku. "How dare you?! ME!?! Slack off!?!"
Goku took a couple steps back. "Hey, hey, hey! I was only jokin'! C'mon, Vegeta!"
Chile ignored his fellow Sayin. He had gotten so used to their arguing, that their spats had no affect on him. He ran his hand across the gleaming, chrome finish. It felt very smooth and inviting. The sun over the trees made the dark-gray color shine brightly in the snow. His hand ran over the silver handles. Power steering, up to 360 speed, it had it all! "Its wise for him to ride instead of fly, bro," Chile said over his shoulder to Goku. "Its too inconspicuous to fly. Saiyaman has an excuse." Chile ran his hand on a green, circular glass on the dashboard. "Seems pretty standard, but what's this for?"
Vegeta snorted. "Bulma installed that thing 'just in case.' It's a new DragonRadar."
Gohan nodded gravely. "Hopefully we won't need that for a while."
.
[Commercial Break]
.
It was nighttime. All was quiet. The one called Cyra felt she would have no problem seeking out and obtaining the two dragonballs Triga had sent her to get. The first was more than simple. It was washed up on a beach on a small continent. It took one simple ki-energy movement to clear away enough sand. When that was done, the seven-star ball was hers.
As she flew off into the sky above the beach, she checked her chart again. Triga had used her magic to track down the balls and circled the locations. The girl snorted. The next was on a large island called Japan, in a western city full of people. Flying at medium speed, she reached the city in three hours, not using up too much of her energy. It was Triga's plan to gather all seven within two days, but the girl named Cyra didn't feel comfortable with the whole ordeal. Now that she had escaped from Hell, she wasn't interested in ruling over anything; she just wanted to explore the living world, interact with people, try new foods, learn new things. She didn't mean to stop her surrogate mother, but maybe just delay slightly.
There was only a slight sliver of moon in the sky over head, but the stars were almost nowhere to be seen. The city was larger than she expected, with so many lights and sounds that one wouldn't have known it was night. The girl's eyes sparkled with wonder and excitement. Now, more than ever, she wanted to go down and take a closer look. She wanted to see the people and buildings and machines. But she knew that the Earthlings didn't fly, and her landing would be greeted with crowds and stares. Such a spectacle was to be avoided at all costs.
She tore her eyes away from this beautiful sight and flew higher to the rooftop of one of the taller buildings. She took out her map again and studied it. The next ball was in a large house. Though it wasn't specified on the map, she could see from the roof the house indicated. It was a large, dome-shaped mansion, with the words "CAPSUL CORP" written in large, black letters on the side.
The one called Cyra landed softly onto the lawn. A fresh layer of snow lay lightly on the grass, and when she landed, a small foot-print was made. The ice cold seeped through the boot and stung into her flesh like sharp knives. She lifted her foot and put it back on the print. What kind of substance was this? And why did it make her foot's outline? She put her hand down flat on the snow. It was so cold and wet! How strange!
Her head snapped around twice like a gazelle, making sure she hadn't been spotted. Then her attention went back to staring at the ground. Her hand's outline was on the snow now, too. She grinned. The grin was almost like a child's making a new and exciting discovery, but the black make-up disfigured it into something more grotesque. The girl wanted to forget what she was doing and play in this "discovery" of hers.
But no time for that now; she really had work to do. The girl flew higher to make sure everyone was asleep. There was only one window with lights gleaming from it. Peering inside, she saw that the glow was from a television screen. A small, light-haired boy in a Capsul Corp night shirt had fallen asleep in the middle of a movie, and the screen only had static. The kid himself was snoring loudly at the foot of his bed with his head in his lap.
The on-looker giggled. 'Such a simple, childish thing to do,' she thought. 'You're lucky. I'll bet you don't have a care in the world!' She dove down from window to window, searching half-heartedly for the ball. There was no need to go in yet. If she didn't see it, she could wait until morning when everyone was away. But then she saw it. Shining dimly like a dying ember in the darkness was the five-star dragonball. As quietly as she could, she whispered an incantation to melt away the window pane. The liquid glass trickled down noiselessly, and not so much as an extra shade of light changed. A cool breeze blew past the frame. Fortunately for her, the couple in the bed didn't stir. She cocked her head. Her shadow covered the man, who faced the opposite wall and slept on the farther side of the bed. But his mate slept closer to her. She cocked her head again and stared at her. The woman had sea-blue hair and was very pretty. Definitely not a fighter, judging by her skinny arms.
She crept into the room and took the ball. It glowed slightly brighter as she took it. Quickly stuffing it into her leather pouch around her neck, the one called Cyra took one last look at the couple. The man on the opposite side of the bed hadn't stirred. She could see his tall, pointed hair under the sheets, but that was it. What a fool not to realize he was being robbed!
Before anything else could happen, she hopped out into the air, replaced the doorframe, and flew off into the night.
If only she had looked in the mirror on the opposite side of the window. Two ebony eyes peered through the darkness. Vegeta had seen everything!
Hiya! Its me, Goku!
Vegeta gets angry and follows the girl to challenge her to a fight! I sure hope he knows what he's doing, because she's no weakling! Chile, Gohan, and I have to go to help him! What is with these people? And who are they? Next time on DragonballUF: Kibano-hatstu!! Cyra's Special Attack
[1] Hispan, Basic, and Nihongo - Hispan is the official language of the Dolarians. Nihongo is Japanese. Basic was introduced in DBBC as the most commonly used language in space for business and trade; based on English.
[2] Triga and Cyra - Triga's name is based on the Spanish word "trigo", meaning "wheat"; Cyra is based on "cereal", which is the same in Spanish and English .
.
Bardock: Looks like the same old crap to me. At least we'll get a fight next ep!
Una: Old style fight. I'll go back and punch it up a little.
Yugi: After you finish my latest chapter.
Una: Actually, I feel like working on this for a while. I've been neglecting my old fav show, and its rather disgraceful.
Yami/Yugi: NOO!
Bardock: heehee! Payback's a bitch, ain't it?!
Yami: grumbles Damn monkey...
SilverWolfe - I am getting better at fights? YEAH!! Yeah, I really don't know how to chat up girls, but I've had that line used on me before.
Richard - Actually, YGO is taking less than DBUF. My computer has been really (censored) up! And no, no way am I making this a full-on crossover. Cameos are to be expected when this epic goes way too long. This will be out for another couple of years at least.
chibibaka - It has been tooo long! Sorry for not writing!
CatStar - hiya! the fight was that good, huh? Great!
Davifflaelan - Go for it! Attack the purple Tellatubbie too!
.
.
Una: Wow... This is weird.
Yugi: Nan desuka, Una-san?
Una: These are chapters I wrote four years ago, way back when I had a website called "Una's Sky Palace."
Bardock: So?
Una: My writing style has changed a bit.
Yami: How?
Una: You'll see.
.
.
Episode 4
Plot for Revenge! The Escape from Hell
The orange-yellow sky had no sun. It didn't have any birds or planes. Yet it was this sky that she stared at day after day. There was something wonderful beyond it, she just wasn't exactly sure what it was.
There was no way to get there. She couldn't escape her eternal prison. She was dead, and this was Hell. The reason why she was here was a non-existent memory. As far as she knew, she had always been here. Here, with her stepmother Triga, [2] brought up learning the Dolarian way of the dark arts and language. She had been schooled in many languages, her best being Hispan, Basic, and Nihongo. [1]
She did, however, know that she once had a life of some sort. Something told her she didn't belong in Hell. She had been loved. Not in the sexual sense, but in the deeply emotional. There was someone she was connected with in that place beyond the orange sky.
Her reflection in the nearby lake, Lake Blood, did not feel right. Triga had her wear heavy make-up. Her lipstick and eye make-up were black. Her outfit was black with white pearls. Her long nails were painted black. This image, as well as this girl, was known as Cyra. [2] Cyra didn't call herself "Cyra" because she wanted to know her original name first.
There was one clue as to what race she was, though. When she got very angry, or powered up as high as she could, her power increased, her hair turned bright orange, and her eyes turned greenish-blue. Triga preferred her like this; her hair was orange, too.
Just then, Triga flew past at top speed, clutching something. If one wasn't careful, one could mistake to Dolarian for a black and orange football.
Vamonos, Mihija, she called out to her daughter.
.
.
Triga and Cyra were hidden in Mt. Needle to evade the ogres. Triga took off her hood and held up her prize. Mira, hija, she said in Dolarian. Esta es una fruta "ambrosia," la fruta de los dios!
Cyra stared at the fruit with wonder. Que maravilla, she murmured. She switched her language to Nihongo. "But, why did you steal the fruit of the gods?"
"Baka," snapped Triga caressing the red treasure. "Anyone who eats this and is dead will be granted life! We could go back to the real world and conquer it at last!"
Cyra's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Maybe we'll even find some new and impressive fighters, try new exotic foods, find my real parents..."
Triga looked up at her as if she had been wounded. "C-Cyra, child, why would you do that?" She looked down sadly. "Oh, I see, you don't love your Triga. The only one in this God-forsaken place to raise you!"
"Oh, no! No! That's not what I meant at all! Its just that, I want to know where I come from."
Triga sighed. "Triga didn't want to tell you this until you were a little older, but..." She sat down and waited for Cyra to do the same. "Triga knows what kind of alien you are."
A hot anger rushed through Cyra. "You knew!?!" she screamed. "Why haven't you told me sooner!?!"
"Please, hija, callate. I haven't told you because your people have an awful history. You are," Triga paused. "You're a Sayin!
"The Sayins were a race of blood-thirsty warriors, who cared for nothing but themselves. They would massacre entire species of people, just for their own profit. All lives other then their own meant nothing to them. Whoever killed them must be a saint!" [AN - Ah, the irony]
Cyra gasped. "You mean, there are no more anyway?"
"No, there are a few left. In fact, they live on the very planet we are going to once we are resurrected." Triga bent down and whispered, "You see, Triga heard of a planet that has these seven magic balls called 'dragonballs.' If all seven are collected, a wish is granted."
"Is there a way out of Hell?"
"Yes, and I know we'll be out of here within the hour!"
.
.
It was a sunny, winter day in the Potzu Mountains. The sun glistened off of the newly fallen Christmas snow, making the forests look serene.
Unfortunately, the Son household was far from serene. Shouts could be heard from miles away. They were coming from Son Chichi, wife of Son Goku. She was criticizing Goku about the Christmas gift he had given her the day before: a new no-stick frying pan!
At that time, Prince Vegeta was traveling to his allies' house on his brand-new motorcycle. He was wearing tan pants, a long sleeved, blue shirt and sunglasses. His black hair blew behind him as he sped through the forests of the mountains. Only once did a tree too large to go around come in front of him, but one small Big Bang Attack took care of it.
He pulled up and stopped in front of the simple homestead just in time to see the couple emerge. Goku, chased by Chichi, was rushing out, asking for the eleventh time why Chichi didn't like her gift. She was flailing the pan over her head, threatening to stick the pan in place that not even the powerful Super Sayin could stand! Gohan, Goten, and Chile could be seen from the doorway laughing uncontrollably.
Vegeta took off his sunglasses, an anime sweatdrop forming on his brow. This is one of the most powerful beings in the universe!
Goku gave one final yelp before tripping on a rock and falling face first in the snow. He skidded to a stop right at Vegeta's feet. He looked up, teeth chattering, and smiled. "Heya, Vegeta," he chattered. "Merry Late Christmas!"
Vegeta looked first at Chichi, who had stopped dead at the sight of Vegeta, and then back to Goku with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. "You, Kakkarot, are..." he paused and shook his head. "No, I won't say a word. This is way too easy."
Chile stepped out, wiping the tears of laughter out of his eyes. "Hello, Vegeta-sama," he panted, still not quite over his fit. "You're looking well."
Vegeta straitened up and smiled. Hearing his proper title from whom he had dubbed a "proper Sayin" was somewhat refreshing. "I only came to invite you all to a New Year's Eve party Bulma is throwing. All of the members of Capsul Corp will be there, it is most likely to be a bore!"
Chichi snorted at Vegeta's comment. Vegeta in turn glared at her. How can Kakkarot be at the mercy of this weakling!! It was common knowledge among the Z fighters that Chichi was the only one who had the upper hand over Goku; Goku loved her dearly, no matter how much abuse she gave him (she cooked his meals!). However, people like Vegeta refused to take any orders from her, and getting at Goku in any way was a bonus in his book. "If you would rather not attend, I'll simply tell her that you were the one to turn down the invitation."
The Earth woman turned her nose to the air, away from Vegeta. "We will go," is all she said.
"Alright," cheered Goten, jumping up into the air. Gohan, always trying to avoid an obvious conflict (and seeing an imminent one between his mother and Vegeta), changed the focus to Vegeta's motorcycle. "So, Vegeta-san," he said politely, "when did you get the bike?"
Chile began circling it. "Its a beaut', Sire!"
Goku tilted his head in a teasing fashion. "I didn't think you'd need it, Vegeta? Slacking off on your training?"
Another immortal rule among the Z fighters was simple: Don't make Vegeta mad if you can help it! Vegeta sneered and turned on Goku. "How dare you?! ME!?! Slack off!?!"
Goku took a couple steps back. "Hey, hey, hey! I was only jokin'! C'mon, Vegeta!"
Chile ignored his fellow Sayin. He had gotten so used to their arguing, that their spats had no affect on him. He ran his hand across the gleaming, chrome finish. It felt very smooth and inviting. The sun over the trees made the dark-gray color shine brightly in the snow. His hand ran over the silver handles. Power steering, up to 360 speed, it had it all! "Its wise for him to ride instead of fly, bro," Chile said over his shoulder to Goku. "Its too inconspicuous to fly. Saiyaman has an excuse." Chile ran his hand on a green, circular glass on the dashboard. "Seems pretty standard, but what's this for?"
Vegeta snorted. "Bulma installed that thing 'just in case.' It's a new DragonRadar."
Gohan nodded gravely. "Hopefully we won't need that for a while."
.
[Commercial Break]
.
It was nighttime. All was quiet. The one called Cyra felt she would have no problem seeking out and obtaining the two dragonballs Triga had sent her to get. The first was more than simple. It was washed up on a beach on a small continent. It took one simple ki-energy movement to clear away enough sand. When that was done, the seven-star ball was hers.
As she flew off into the sky above the beach, she checked her chart again. Triga had used her magic to track down the balls and circled the locations. The girl snorted. The next was on a large island called Japan, in a western city full of people. Flying at medium speed, she reached the city in three hours, not using up too much of her energy. It was Triga's plan to gather all seven within two days, but the girl named Cyra didn't feel comfortable with the whole ordeal. Now that she had escaped from Hell, she wasn't interested in ruling over anything; she just wanted to explore the living world, interact with people, try new foods, learn new things. She didn't mean to stop her surrogate mother, but maybe just delay slightly.
There was only a slight sliver of moon in the sky over head, but the stars were almost nowhere to be seen. The city was larger than she expected, with so many lights and sounds that one wouldn't have known it was night. The girl's eyes sparkled with wonder and excitement. Now, more than ever, she wanted to go down and take a closer look. She wanted to see the people and buildings and machines. But she knew that the Earthlings didn't fly, and her landing would be greeted with crowds and stares. Such a spectacle was to be avoided at all costs.
She tore her eyes away from this beautiful sight and flew higher to the rooftop of one of the taller buildings. She took out her map again and studied it. The next ball was in a large house. Though it wasn't specified on the map, she could see from the roof the house indicated. It was a large, dome-shaped mansion, with the words "CAPSUL CORP" written in large, black letters on the side.
The one called Cyra landed softly onto the lawn. A fresh layer of snow lay lightly on the grass, and when she landed, a small foot-print was made. The ice cold seeped through the boot and stung into her flesh like sharp knives. She lifted her foot and put it back on the print. What kind of substance was this? And why did it make her foot's outline? She put her hand down flat on the snow. It was so cold and wet! How strange!
Her head snapped around twice like a gazelle, making sure she hadn't been spotted. Then her attention went back to staring at the ground. Her hand's outline was on the snow now, too. She grinned. The grin was almost like a child's making a new and exciting discovery, but the black make-up disfigured it into something more grotesque. The girl wanted to forget what she was doing and play in this "discovery" of hers.
But no time for that now; she really had work to do. The girl flew higher to make sure everyone was asleep. There was only one window with lights gleaming from it. Peering inside, she saw that the glow was from a television screen. A small, light-haired boy in a Capsul Corp night shirt had fallen asleep in the middle of a movie, and the screen only had static. The kid himself was snoring loudly at the foot of his bed with his head in his lap.
The on-looker giggled. 'Such a simple, childish thing to do,' she thought. 'You're lucky. I'll bet you don't have a care in the world!' She dove down from window to window, searching half-heartedly for the ball. There was no need to go in yet. If she didn't see it, she could wait until morning when everyone was away. But then she saw it. Shining dimly like a dying ember in the darkness was the five-star dragonball. As quietly as she could, she whispered an incantation to melt away the window pane. The liquid glass trickled down noiselessly, and not so much as an extra shade of light changed. A cool breeze blew past the frame. Fortunately for her, the couple in the bed didn't stir. She cocked her head. Her shadow covered the man, who faced the opposite wall and slept on the farther side of the bed. But his mate slept closer to her. She cocked her head again and stared at her. The woman had sea-blue hair and was very pretty. Definitely not a fighter, judging by her skinny arms.
She crept into the room and took the ball. It glowed slightly brighter as she took it. Quickly stuffing it into her leather pouch around her neck, the one called Cyra took one last look at the couple. The man on the opposite side of the bed hadn't stirred. She could see his tall, pointed hair under the sheets, but that was it. What a fool not to realize he was being robbed!
Before anything else could happen, she hopped out into the air, replaced the doorframe, and flew off into the night.
If only she had looked in the mirror on the opposite side of the window. Two ebony eyes peered through the darkness. Vegeta had seen everything!
Hiya! Its me, Goku!
Vegeta gets angry and follows the girl to challenge her to a fight! I sure hope he knows what he's doing, because she's no weakling! Chile, Gohan, and I have to go to help him! What is with these people? And who are they? Next time on DragonballUF: Kibano-hatstu!! Cyra's Special Attack
[1] Hispan, Basic, and Nihongo - Hispan is the official language of the Dolarians. Nihongo is Japanese. Basic was introduced in DBBC as the most commonly used language in space for business and trade; based on English.
[2] Triga and Cyra - Triga's name is based on the Spanish word "trigo", meaning "wheat"; Cyra is based on "cereal", which is the same in Spanish and English .
.
Bardock: Looks like the same old crap to me. At least we'll get a fight next ep!
Una: Old style fight. I'll go back and punch it up a little.
Yugi: After you finish my latest chapter.
Una: Actually, I feel like working on this for a while. I've been neglecting my old fav show, and its rather disgraceful.
Yami/Yugi: NOO!
Bardock: heehee! Payback's a bitch, ain't it?!
Yami: grumbles Damn monkey...