Z Basket
By Pikachu Hunter
Chapter Five: Vegeta's Morning Wasn't Great
In the morning, sun shone through the cracks in the blinds of a white-
painted room, lighting it with soft shades of pink from the clouds in the sky. The colors washed over the hardwood floor, and crept up the side of the bed in the room, over the blankets and--
"Darn sun, waking me from my rest. I never get any sleep around here." Vegeta rolled over in bed. He yawned, and sat up to face not Bulma, but a small Armadillo. "GAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Vegeta screamed at the sight, forgetting his son's form, only asking himself why there was an Armadillo on his bed. Bulma sat up in an instant. "Pika?!" She squeaked. It appeared that two of three people had changed overnight.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" Vegeta took one look at his wife and screamed louder, forgetting the curse altogether. He'd hoped it was only a crazy dream as a side effect of being Goku's training partner.
"Pika pi!" Bulma rushed into the washroom and threw a cup of warm water over her head, then returned in pink pajamas. "Vegeta, what are you screaming about?!" She yelled over the Saiyan's cries.
"It's on the bed, and it's looking at me! Aaaaaaah, get it away!" Vegeta was huddled on the headpiece of the bed, with the Armadillo slowly creeping closer with a strange look in it's eyes as if it wanted something.
"Did you forget that 'it' is our son?!" Bulma picked up the Armadillo and hugged it. "Morning, Trunks!"
"WHEN DID TRUNKS TURN INTO AN ARMADILLO?!"
"The curse, you idiot, did you forget?!"
"Oh..." Vegeta fell off the bed and landed on the ground. "I remember now...so what was he doing on our bed, and how did he get to be an Armadillo if he went to bed as a boy?"
"Uh...why don't we ask him?" Bulma said. She headed back into the washroom, and splashed the boy. "Thanks, Mom. I thought I'd never get normal again!" The eight-year-old laughed. He hugged his mother, forgetful him, and wound up with a Pikachu in his arms. "Oops."
"Pika!"
"What?"
"Pikaaaaa!" Bulma pointed at the sink with her yellow paws. Trunks nodded, and flicked the hot water on her face. His mother was a human once again.
"What's going on in here?" Vegeta walked into the bathroom, which was connected to the bedroom by a small door, and threw a towel over his shoulder.
"Nothing much. C'mon, Trunks, I'll make you breakfast." Bulma led her son down the stairs, trying not to give him his morning hug. Who knew how long he'd suffered as an Armadillo that night!
"Make me some too!" Vegeta called after her.
"Get it yourself!" Bulma yelled back.
"Darn woman...makes me cook my own food. What kind of wife does that?!" Vegeta turned on the shower, and hung his towel on a hook on the back of the bathroom door. He opened it and walked downstairs to let the shower warm while he made something to eat.
"What do we have here?" He searched the cupboards for any edible substances. "Nothing." Vegeta scoffed at the empty cupboards. "BULMA, GO GET SOME FOOD!" He yelled at the woman across the kitchen.
"Fine...your shower is waiting....yeesh..." Bulma grumbled about being a hardworking housewife who has to do everything in the bloody house. She slipped into some shoes and left the house with Trunks.
Vegeta ran up the stairs, and slammed the bathroom door. He stepped into the shower, and--
"YAAAAAGIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!" For the third time that morning, Vegeta had received an unpleasant surprise. He was beginning to wonder if Akira Toriyama was Japan's own Lemony Snickett for letting him have such a life of misfortune. There was someone else in the shower, and it was not his wife.
By Pikachu Hunter
Chapter Five: Vegeta's Morning Wasn't Great
In the morning, sun shone through the cracks in the blinds of a white-
painted room, lighting it with soft shades of pink from the clouds in the sky. The colors washed over the hardwood floor, and crept up the side of the bed in the room, over the blankets and--
"Darn sun, waking me from my rest. I never get any sleep around here." Vegeta rolled over in bed. He yawned, and sat up to face not Bulma, but a small Armadillo. "GAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Vegeta screamed at the sight, forgetting his son's form, only asking himself why there was an Armadillo on his bed. Bulma sat up in an instant. "Pika?!" She squeaked. It appeared that two of three people had changed overnight.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" Vegeta took one look at his wife and screamed louder, forgetting the curse altogether. He'd hoped it was only a crazy dream as a side effect of being Goku's training partner.
"Pika pi!" Bulma rushed into the washroom and threw a cup of warm water over her head, then returned in pink pajamas. "Vegeta, what are you screaming about?!" She yelled over the Saiyan's cries.
"It's on the bed, and it's looking at me! Aaaaaaah, get it away!" Vegeta was huddled on the headpiece of the bed, with the Armadillo slowly creeping closer with a strange look in it's eyes as if it wanted something.
"Did you forget that 'it' is our son?!" Bulma picked up the Armadillo and hugged it. "Morning, Trunks!"
"WHEN DID TRUNKS TURN INTO AN ARMADILLO?!"
"The curse, you idiot, did you forget?!"
"Oh..." Vegeta fell off the bed and landed on the ground. "I remember now...so what was he doing on our bed, and how did he get to be an Armadillo if he went to bed as a boy?"
"Uh...why don't we ask him?" Bulma said. She headed back into the washroom, and splashed the boy. "Thanks, Mom. I thought I'd never get normal again!" The eight-year-old laughed. He hugged his mother, forgetful him, and wound up with a Pikachu in his arms. "Oops."
"Pika!"
"What?"
"Pikaaaaa!" Bulma pointed at the sink with her yellow paws. Trunks nodded, and flicked the hot water on her face. His mother was a human once again.
"What's going on in here?" Vegeta walked into the bathroom, which was connected to the bedroom by a small door, and threw a towel over his shoulder.
"Nothing much. C'mon, Trunks, I'll make you breakfast." Bulma led her son down the stairs, trying not to give him his morning hug. Who knew how long he'd suffered as an Armadillo that night!
"Make me some too!" Vegeta called after her.
"Get it yourself!" Bulma yelled back.
"Darn woman...makes me cook my own food. What kind of wife does that?!" Vegeta turned on the shower, and hung his towel on a hook on the back of the bathroom door. He opened it and walked downstairs to let the shower warm while he made something to eat.
"What do we have here?" He searched the cupboards for any edible substances. "Nothing." Vegeta scoffed at the empty cupboards. "BULMA, GO GET SOME FOOD!" He yelled at the woman across the kitchen.
"Fine...your shower is waiting....yeesh..." Bulma grumbled about being a hardworking housewife who has to do everything in the bloody house. She slipped into some shoes and left the house with Trunks.
Vegeta ran up the stairs, and slammed the bathroom door. He stepped into the shower, and--
"YAAAAAGIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!" For the third time that morning, Vegeta had received an unpleasant surprise. He was beginning to wonder if Akira Toriyama was Japan's own Lemony Snickett for letting him have such a life of misfortune. There was someone else in the shower, and it was not his wife.
