Disclaimer: No DBZ is owned by me. Tra-lala.
It's been a while, yes, I know! I'm getting my drive back though, I think. Thanks to all you reviewers. You make it worth it. And not to delay...
Mission: To Be, or Not to Be... a Woman?
The Third Term
Omigawdomigawd.
He looked hideous.
He looked like the Swamp Thing. Like the Black Lagoon Monster. Like Opera Gone Eighties.
Hideous.
"You look just fine, Piccolo!" Dende chirped, ignoring the small beads of sweat that found their way down his neck.
Piccolo continued to stare at his reflection in the full length mirror.
Big baggy red cargo pants. A blue shirt with a teddy bear on the front. Christmas gloves. Pokemon shoes. Sunglasses. A John Deere hat. And a pink boa around his shoulders.
Hideous.
"Dende, I'll murder you."
"It's all we could muster!" Dende pleaded, already hearing the pigeons calling him from beyond the Look Out. "I gave you the best clothes!"
Piccolo studied the little Namek for a moment, taking in his 'Phat' sweater, pink stretchy pants and ducky slippers. "...Maybe. Isn't Mr. Popo coming along as well?"
"He's changing in the other room," Dende consoled. "Don't worry, it'll be no trouble. All we have to do is just go to Earth, slip into a lingerie store, grab you a chest thingy, buy it, and slip out..."
"Looking hideous."
Dende felt stung. HE thought he, himself, looked pretty good.
"Yo yo my G's!" Mr. Popo bellowed, entering the room. Diamond rings adorned every finger. A heavy, gold-platted ruby-studded money symbol necklace hung from his neck. A white leather jacket covered his frame, matching his whiter pants and gold-dusted sneakers. Atop his head was a solitary pimp hat, complete with feather. Romani glasses settled just under his eyes, giving notice to the studs littering both his ears.
"Popo?" Piccolo asked, in awe.
"I'm your ho!" Mr. Popo said cheerfully.
"We'd really better be going," Dende pressed, wondering what got into Mr. Popo--and more importantly, where he got his duds.
"Yes..." Piccolo trailed off. He felt like crying. He was hideous looking and had breasts. Dende was putrid looking and a little sleazebag. Mr. Popo had just called himself a ho. God. Why couldn't the day just get itself over with?
Amazingly, the trio got to earth with barely any trouble. There was only the ever beckoning flutter of pigeon wings that shadowed Dende, causing him to quiver in fear on the way down. Piccolo almost felt sorry for him. Almost. If it weren't all his fault in the first place. If he hadn't made him look hideous.
Walking down a crowded human street, Piccolo felt like a huge, pulsating pimple. He almost cried in relief when a large sign reading 'Victoria's Secret' came into view.
Inside the store was a whole other world. Barely clothed women littered the entire store, and strange articles of clothing hung everywhere. Sly-faced men and prowling women shoppers stalked the store.
Piccolo watched in fascination. Indeed. Shopping was an art! it was the thrill of the hunt...the hunter, prowling down the crowded streets, slipping through the crowded malls...not to be seen! not to be noticed! Never until they caught their prey! Laughing at the people walking by...unknowing, not going in the right direction! The sale was the other way! the other way! Fools!
Rapture! The smell, the scent of the prey reaches the nose of the hunter. The shopper. The sale! its signs beckon...beckoning in glory, beckoning, taunting! The shopper laughs inwardly, taking its time, circling the prey...slowly deciding, deciding the perfect time to strike. Slowly entering, walking amidst the clothes, the lingerie, the items, sniffing the air, eyes flickering over every attire, matching it up...was that it? No! no! The prey was near! The quivering prey, that one piece of clothing...there! That shirt! Surround it, so that it may not escape...claim it with hungry glares, keep the other hunters away! Let them know you claim this item! Slowly prowling, hearing keen, fingers extended...watch carefully! STRIKE!
The fingers find the shirt, yanking it off the hangar, a smirk on the face of the shopper, knowing they found it first!
But no! No!
The prey! A cheat! A lie!
The shirt, marked at only 20, costing so much! What is this? what is this! An identical shirt was seen, across the shop, in another store, costing only half as much! Same style! Same color!
No! Cheated! Lied!
The shopper howls in dismay, casting the treacherous prey back onto its hangar.
Piccolo breathed deeply. How he longed for the hunt...
"Piccolo?"
"What?" Piccolo answered in annoyance as he glared down at the little Namek beside him.
"Um...You need to walk into the store."
Right. Piccolo coughed and entered the forbidden lair...Victoria's Secret.
Mr. Popo was already inside, walking in strides, making sure everyone saw the feather in his hat. Piccolo rolled his eyes and began to work. He made his way to an aisle that looked most like what he saw in the newspaper clipping. Strange garments...
In every color of the rainbow! It was a splendor, a delight for the eyes. Would he take under wire? Some that buttoned in the front? Strapless!
Lo! It was a mental maze! And sales...what could he possibly pick? What was there to be had? Was he wise enough?
After a few moments of contemplation, Piccolo noted a woman nearby was staring at him oddly. He cleared his throat and moved on. Great. He felt like a big pimple again.
Strangely, the woman neared him. "...Hey," she began.
Piccolo looked over. "...Hi."
"Um...looking for something?"
Piccolo coughed to himself, pushing his sunglasses farther up his nose. "Oh, just..." he flicked a few garments idly. "One of these..."
"How sweet!" the woman squealed. "For your girlfriend?"
Piccolo looked hurt for a moment. He didn't look THAT masculine, did he...?
Wait. Never mind.
"Um...yes."
"I like your boa!" the woman droned. "Oh, and if you want a deal, go with a set. A bra and thong set. They're on sale."
Sale!
Sale!
What a magical word.
"How much off?" Piccolo asked, breathless.
"60!"
The Namek fairly gasped.
"Here! I thought these were cute!" the woman giggled, thrusting a matching black satin set at the Namek.
Piccolo took them, gazing at them in wonder.
"Are they big enough?" the woman asked.
"Yes...I think so," Piccolo responded. The sale tag glinted invitingly at him.
"Glad to help!" the woman cooed before disappearing on her merry way.
What a blessing! A Sale Angel, come to guide him through his personal dilemma. Piccolo bowed his head. If this was a blessing for all those times he strung Dende up nude for the pigeons...why, he'd gladly do it again.
Not like he needed more reasons to do it.
Really.
Not like he was trying to make up any reasons to do it.
Dende smiled, obliviously, at Piccolo from a distance.
Sadistic bast-
"Are you done yet, ho?" Mr. Popo asked, prodding Piccolo with a cane he found.
Piccolo shot the genie a distasteful look before proudly announcing, "Yes. We can go now."
Time passed. The trio once again made their way up to the Look Out, only the beady eyes of soaring pigeons keeping their departure from being near perfect. And the fact that Mr. Popo was dressed as a pimp. And that Dende was a sadistic bast-
"Where my money?" Mr. Popo asked a pigeon that flew uncannily close. The pigeon didn't respond. "Do I have to choke a ho!" Mr. Popo bellowed at the bird, sending it taking flight elsewhere.
"See?" Mr. Popo commented to Dende. "You just have to be upfront with them."
Dende shuddered. "I don't know..."
Piccolo ignored all of this. He kept fingering the lovely prize he held in his hands. And he got it on SALE.
Once they had landed, Piccolo immediately made his way to his quarters. Mr. Popo removed all his jewelry and adorned his normal genie outfit once more. Dende changed as well, but kept the slippers on for his own Namekian reasons.
"So. Want to play Blackjack?" Mr. Popo asked.
"Not right now," Dende responded. "We need to get those numbers for Piccolo to try out...you know, Ms. Cleo, and the sex guru."
"Guru...Wasn't there someone on your planet named Guru?" Mr. Popo asked in wonderment.
Dende's eyes widened. "Now that you mention it...there was! Guru!"
"Could it be the same person!" Mr. Popo asked.
"I...but...Guru died. Didn't he?"
A chill wind blew past.
"...Maybe...he didn't..." Mr. Popo whispered.
Meanwhile, Piccolo had adorned his newfound findings. He purred at himself in the mirror, turning this way and that. He looked good! it had taken him a while to figure out what the thong was used for. The bra, he knew. And it was perfect!
Wanting to show off his new findings, Piccolo threw open the door and made his way to the dining room where Dende and Mr. Popo were. "Look at-"
Piccolo paused, studying Dende and the genie. "...Why are you wearing garlic, crosses, carrying wooden stakes, with a bags of silver bullets at your side, and wearing Britney Spears' new perfume?"
Before Dende could spill the beans about Guru, he noticed something peculiar about Piccolo. "Why are you wearing the thong on your face?"
Piccolo frowned, bringing a hand up to touch the black garment that fit around his head. "It fits. See, the two loops go around my ears... ...?"
Dende shrugged. "No idea! Never owned one!"
Mr. Popo, for some reason, coughed. And looked guilty. And twiddled his thumbs.
"Is something wrong?" Piccolo asked the genie suspiciously.
"No, no! You're wearing it right."
"How would you know?" Dende asked stupidly.
Mr. Popo's left eye twitched. "I just do! I'm a genie! I'm smart!"
"But-"
"Do I have to choke a ho!"
Dende quieted, gulping.
Piccolo could only groan. "We don't have time for this. Did you get those numbers?"
"We're doing that now!" Dende announced before grabbing Mr. Popo and making a hasty exit.
Piccolo rubbed his temples, wondering why he had to put up with stuff like this. Gawd.
I had way too much fun writing the shopping part. XD