Chapter Seventeen – A Fine Day To Exit (Stage Left)

18 stepped out of the Red Ribbon Records building with a smirk in her face, and stretched in the warm morning sunlight. The morning was going well, she thought. Marron hadn't thrown a tantrum about going to school, Krillin had made her breakfast, Old Man Roshi hadn't been a lecherous old fart, and President Black had been scared out of his wits for the second time in as many weeks.

The android rose into the air and sped away home, smiling as she remembered how Black had cowered under his desk for the entire meeting and then begged to do anything she asked if she only went away. As a result, 18 had managed to land Death Saiyan a lucrative gig in one of the largest-capacity venues in the area: Hercule Arena. It would be a ninety-minute set, supporting a big band from some foreign country, 18 hadn't listened to those unimportant details, just the main points, such as the pay. Now all she had to do is tell the others the good news and some how figure out a way to keep the money. The clouds flashed passed and the sunlight was reflecting peacefully upon the surface of the sea below her as wave crashed upon wave, and slowly an idea formed in her cybernetically enhanced mind.

Vegeta look up at the android over his breakfast cereal and stared coldly at her.

"This had better be good," he warned. "Because if so much as a single crunchy golden flake of morning eatiness becomes soggy, I'll rip your face off."

18 stared at him blankly then smirked. "Not getting any?"

"… No."

"Slept on the couch again?"

"…Yes."

"What did you do?"

"I said her arse looked big in spandex."

"What was she doing in spandex?"

"Don't ask. Now, why are you here, robot?"

"I've got you another gig," 18 replied matter-of-factly.

Vegeta's eyes it up and he dropped the spoon into his Wheaty Yum-Yums. "Where!" he asked, casually flicking a peace of sugar-coated cereal off the end of his nose.

"The Hercule Arena," 18 replied. The Prince's eyes widened slowly.

"That place is big! I saw it on TV once. There must have been at least three hundred people in there!"

"Three hundred thousand, you mean?" 18 asked.

"That too," Vegeta replied, taking a spoonful of breakfast and chewing thoughtfully. "This could be interesting. All those easily susceptible mines staring at me on stage…" Vegeta smirked. The expression was somewhat marred by the fact he still had the spoon in his mouth. "When is it?"

"Two weeks time. Tuesday," 18 replied, standing to leave.

"Excellent, excellent. It gives me time to kick them into shape. This will be most triumphant!" Vegeta cackled.

"Uh, great," 18 said with a frown. "However there will be managers fees to cover."

"Wuh?" Vegeta said, his expression dropping.

"Managers fees. It wasn't easy to get you this gig, you know. I had to do a lot of looking around and a lot of talking and explaining on your behalf even to get people interested. Do you have any idea how high venue the arena is! Only the bets bands in the world perform there. Hey, you're lucky to be given the shot, kiddo."

"Kiddo?" Vegeta repeated, shocked that the walking toaster had dared title him thus. "Look, if it's such a big venue, surely we'll be getting paid for it."

"'Fraid not. That was part of the deal; for you to play there is so much of a privilege that you have forgone any sort of royalties from ticket sales. However, we may still get money from merchandise."

"And let me guess, that is where you want your money from."

"Correct."

"Bitch."

18 smirked at Vegeta's comment before flicking her hair behind her ear. "And don't you forget it buster. Now, I'll be back later in the week to arrange the gig with you. I'll also be talking to printing firms and the like on your behalf, see if we can get some T-shirts and posters printed."

"Good idea. Why not get some lunch boxes printed. Anything else you think will sell and line your pocket with gold?" Vegeta asked, his eyes slits.

"Oh sweetie, don't be bitter about it," 18 said with a laugh. "It's all in the name of Death Saiyan."

Vegeta watched her depart, and wrathfully resumed eating his breakfast. After several spoonfuls he threw the spoon down in disgust.

"It's fucking cold! That bitch! That utter, utter, utter, bitch! FREDERICK! BRING ME MORE WHEATY YUM-YUMS THIS INSTANT! AND SOME COFFEE!"

And so after breakfast, Vegeta called the others and they gathered in the gravity room so the Prince of Saiyans could explain the situation. He highlighted the importance of the event and made it quite clear that under the circumstances that, no matter what happens, if Kakkarot should mess this up he was a dead man.

"But Veggie, what if a crazed fan jumps on stage with a…a… needle!" Goku cried. "What then?"

"Then you whimper on the floor like a small child whilst I hit him with my infernal machine."

"Oh, that's alright then," Goku said with a grin. "Isn't it?"

"Yes, Kakkarot, it is," Vegeta said with narrowed eyes, and then sighed. "Have we got a set-list we can use?"

"Well we've done quite a bit ofnew stuff lately. I was thinking we should start doing our own songs," Mirai volunteered.

"What… like make stuff up?" Vegeta asked.

"Sorta," Mirai conceded. "I think we could get a couple of songs done easy if we work hard."

"Listen brat," Vegeta said, "nobody works harder than a Saiyan."

"What about a hungry saiyan? They work really hard." Goku added.

"What? A hungry Saiyan is still a Saiyan, Kakkarot."

"Ye-es, but there's a clear devide between the two."

"How do you work that one out then?" Vegeta asked, folding his ams over his chest.

"Well one is hungry, and the other isn't," Goku answered. "Gees, Vegeta. You're supposed to be smart."

"Don't make me hit you," Vegeta said, his voice sounding oddly friendly.

"Oh I'd never do that!" Goku said innocently. "I'm too innocent and cuddly to make you do…"

Vegeta's bass was a blur and it hummed through the air and caught Gogu in the back of the head. He stood motionless for a moment, a happy, deluded exopresison on his face, before toppling backover onto the floor, his unblinking eyes and deranged grin staring up at the ceiling. This unnerved Vegeta so much that he covered Goku's face with Napa.

"Now as I was saying," Vegeta continued. "We should be able to get several of our own songs up and running in the two weeks we have to prepare. So let's get to it. Kakkarot, think up some licks on the guitar for us." Silence. "Kakkarot?"

There was a pause, and then a muffled voice came from Napa's nether regions. Another muffled voice. And then a scream of realisation. Goku's legs twitched and kicked, his arms flailed about, and then there was a golden explosion of light before Napa shot skyward.

Goku stood up panting and attempting to spit out the wretched taste of Napa's backside, although this endeavour turned out to be a waste of time.

"Kakkarot. Licks. Now." Vegeta said, sternly.

"Please, don't mentions 'licking' for at least a month," Goku moaned, resisting the urge to puke.

"Very well," Vegeta said. "But can you give us a guitar tune?"

"Uh, something like this?" Goku's fingers moved over the strings, and the guitar wailed. The Saiyans listened, and it was good. Even Vegeta was impressed.

"yes, yes. Something like that will do indeed. Now, turnthat into ome sort of steady tune. Raditz, come up with a nice chugging rhythm. I'll match yopu, and Kakobrat…"

"Hey!" Gohan objected.

"…will drum out a beat. Okay? Good. Let's go."

And so the band steadily worked out the tune to their song whilst Mirai listened and thought about lyrics. He thought hard as Death Saiyan played through their new song several more times, each member interjecting with ideas or suggestions. The song began to change. It slowed down, became twangier, some pieces were repeated whilst others were dropped. Eventually Mirai had it, and he broached it to the others.

"All hail who!" Vegeta cried in disgust.

"Frieza, dad," Mirai replied.

"I am not going to play a song devoted to that kiddy fiddling lizard!"

"It isn't a devotion dad. It's sarcasm. A sneer. Listen, I'll go through the lyrics with you. Okay?" Vegeta hesitated, then allowed his alternative son to continue. "I'm a bit hazy on some of the lines, but they can be ironed out later. But that's the general gist of it."

"Heh, heh, heh," Vegeta chuckled. "I quite like it now. Okay, we can do it. Let's try it in full, with vocals."

The band agreed and they let rip with their new song. Mirai sang like he'd never sang before, and Vegeta's bass thrummed and boomed through the chamber. They all agreedit was exhilarating, and added it to their routine.

"Well, that was easier than I'd imagined," Gohan said after the hum of the guitars died away, "one song in only a couple of hours. If we keep this up, we could have an entire set-list and enough material for a couple of albums."

"This is indeed most agreeable," Vegeta agreed, nodding his head. "C'mon, let's get another one done quickly. Kakkarot, jam if you please!"

"Jam?" Goku asked, breaking into a grin.

"Did he say jam?" Turlus asked.

"He did, he said jam!" Brolli cried.

"You know what this means!" Raditz yelled excitedly, hurling his guitar away.

"Oh no…" Vegeta moaned.

"TO THE KITCHEN!" everybody else cried, and charged for the doorway. Vegeta yelped and dived aside as the crush of Saiyans rumbled passed jabbering excitedly about jam. When the crescendo of feet dispersed, Vegeta was left alone with Mirai and Gohan. The three of them exchanged glances, and Mirai gave a shrug.

"Oh sod this," Vegeta said after a lengthy silence and trooped off after the others.

He found them in the nearest kitchen, pestering the latest chef to be employed by the briefs family. This one, however, was standing the rigors of being yelled at by a small, belligerent person who claimed he was a prince and the constant yammering and braying of his friends. Frederick, for twas his name, loaded the industrial-size toaster with as much bread as he could find and had ordered the largest jar of jam to be opened. It was strawberry jam, and when this fact was announced a great cheer went up.

The toast baked, and the butter and jam were applied, and the Saiyans stood around stuffing their faces with as much toast as they possibly could whilst shouting "Food break!" at each other. Frederick watched them with an air of bemusement about him, and then returned to work preparing the dinner for a group of medical officers who had visited the Capsule Corporation headquarters. Bulma had re-created one of Frieza's regeneration tanks, and was holding a meeting with various parties whom would be interested in such a device, whether they were medical, commercial or military. Despite the already increased rate of cellular regrowth that the regenration tanks offered, Bulma was convinced that she could improve upon them ten-fold, and this item of news increased the interest of the buying parties exponentially. A cure for cancer… human longevity… battlefield medical packs that could close a fatal wound in moments… all of this was feasible for a price. And everybody wanted a piece of this medical revolutionary pie.

But none of this interested the Saiyans, all they were concerned about now was toast. Lots of toast. With jam. And they weren't leaving until they had their fill! Vegeta decided to leave them to it after it bacem apparent that they wouldn't be budging for some time, so he went to his private study and cackled for a while as he plotted dastardly things to do to Kakkarot, many of them involving small fluffy kittens booby-trapped with needles.

The week wore on, and the following week went past quickly, and soon it was time for the band to prepare for their big gig. 18 had hired a stage crew for the event, and they handled the set up of the equipment and instruments, much to Vegeta's annoyance. 18 oversaw everything, and made sure everything was set up to the exact standards she laid down for the night. Death Saiyan would be the supporting band, but by God they would be the best thing ever! She foresaw zeni rolling in through the windows for this if it all went well and certain Saiyans didn't do anything stupid (she stole glances at Brolli, Napa and Goku as they prepared themselves and prayed).

Vegeta watched the hired goons moving everything as some annoying serving wench applied his makeup. Goku appeared wearing his ridiculous uniform with the cap perched precariously on the crest of his hair, and grining rediculosuly, a sight which caused a shudder to run up Vegeta's spine.

"Why do you insist n wearing that foolish outfit?" the Prince enquired as the wench plastered the white face paint over Vegeta's features.

"I think it looks neat," Goku said, twirling.

"It only accomplishes in making you look a twerp, now take it off."

"No," Goku said.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes."

"Oh…" Vegeta paused for a moment to allow the wench to circumnavigate his mouth before speaking again. "Well, don't do anything stupid."

"I won't," Goku said, peaking out from the wings and watching the evnts on stage. The hired goons where placing the guitars on stands and making sure that the plectrums where attached to the mike stands. Vegeta's bass guitar gleamed with an oily radiance. The crowed were cheering and jeering at the stage hands, who ignored them, until one of them moved over to the microphone.

"One, two. One two," he started repeating.

"That guy can't count!" Goku cried, pointing an accusing finger.

"One two, two one," the mike tester repeated. "One two, one two."

"Four!" Goku shouted helpfully.

The mike tester moved over to the guitars and strummed them, playing a few power chords, checking they were in tune.

"That's my guitar. Why's he playing my guitar?" Goku asked, concerned. "KEEP YER HANDS OFF'VE ROSIE!" Goku cried in horror.

"Rosie?" Vegetas asked.

"Yeah, I anmed my guitar."

"Why rosie?"

"'Cos it's red. Like a rose."

"Kakkarot?" vegeta asked, as the make up wench mpoved onto the black design covering Vegeta's eyes and temples.

"Yes?"

"You're an idiot."

"hey!"

"heh, heh he- … GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF'VE MY GUITAR!" Vegeta screamed, as the technician picked up the bass and plucked the chordes. He gave a strangled yelp and pulled his hand away, and blood poured from a nasty cut on his hand. "Heh heh heh, that's my boy!" Vegeta crowed in triumph. Gohan appeared and stood beside them.

"What's happening?" he asked.

"Some baka is playing our instruments," Vegeta said, folding his arms over his chest. "Don't think he'll try that again in a hurry."

"Oh, he's a tech. He's just making sure they're all in tune and working."

"Well of course they're working. We woulnd't be usingthem if they weren't working."

"Yeah, but,"

"Listen, brat. If some dumb human is going to go around playing other peoples instruments he deserves what he gets."

"Eh?" Gohan lost. The Prince had gone off on a tangent and had lost Gohan. "But…"

"But nothing. Nobody should play another mans thingy."

"What are you drivelling on about?" Mirai asked, pulling on a pair of fingerless leather gloves as he approached. He wore a pair of tight-fitting leather trousers and a leather waist coat. Vegeta looked his son up and down and raised an eyebrow, then shrugged.

"Oh, nothing," he said, and watched the events on stage. Drum beats boomed out across the hall, and a second tech (wearing thick gloves and brandishing a metal plectrum) appeared to test out the bass once again.

"Heh, he's in for a surprise," Vegeta grinned. As the Man flashed down with the plec, there was a 'whum' noise, and a barely audible tinkling noise as the plectrum was cleaved neatly into six parts and tumbled to the floor. The tech looked down at the bass, then hastily returned it to it's stand and backed away muttering prayers and warding himself against demons.

"What exactly did you do to that bass?" Gohan asked.

"Sharpened the strings," Vegeta grinned, and shooed the make-up woman away as she finished. Movement to the right caught his eye, and he turned to see Number 18 walk towards them, followed by Radiz.

"Are we nearly set?" Vegeta asked her.

"Almost. Just a few more sound checks to be made, and then you'll get your cue to enter the stage," 18 replied. She peered out at the crowd and smiled. "Looks like quite the turnout, I hear the venue sold out and we're at maximum capacity. People are even crowded around in the streets outside trying to hear some of the concert."

"Excellent. Soon they shall hear Death Saiayn, and they shall become our slaves!" Vegeta said, smiling evilly. Everybody edged away from him. "Stop doing that!"

Vegeta glared at the rest of the band members as on stage, the final sound checks were carried out. Soon, Death Saiyan were ushered on stage, and they took up their positions at their instruments. The crowd cheered for the sake of cheering, many of them not knowing who the hell these people were. Mirai soon endeavoured to correct this and he stepped up to the mic and drew it close.

"HERCULE CITY! ARE YOU READY TO ROCK!" he screamed. The crowd cheered and went wild. "WE ARE DEATH SAIYAN! REMEMBER THAT NAME! DO YOU LIKE IT HEAVY!"

"YEAH!" the crowed cried.

"DO YOU LIKE IT FAST!"

"YEAH!" the crowd cried.

"DO YOU LIKE IT DIRTY!"Mirai jeered.

"YEAH!" The crowed replied.

"Then you better get ready to rock out, boys and girls, because we're about to fucking own you all!"

And with that, Goku's arm swept down and the guitar screamed across the arena. The crowd fell silent for a moment as the sound died away, and the entire band broke into one of their songs. It was fast, it was heavy, and the crowd loved every minute of it. It didn't take long for the mas sof people to become a sea of movement. People jumped around, threw their hands into the air, piled together into knots and hurled themselves about. It was chaos, and Vegeta watched it all happen with a sneer. They had become his puppets. Soon they would do whatever was asked of them.

The gig continued, and as the band played more, the crowd became louder and louder. They started hurling items onto stage; small sweets, empty drinks bottles, balls of paper, and Mirai was even targeted by items of ladies underwear. He picked up a purple thong and wore it on his head like a hat for half the show, and as he slipped the garment on, a high shriek went up from all the girls. The heat on stage grew, and Mirai unbuttoned his waist coat, giving the crowd full view of his body. The women shrieked even louder and the girls at the barrier grasped towards him imploringly.

The set was almost at a close, and the band stepped up the tempo even more by playing a song they had learned long ago. It was very fast and very heavy, and it left the crowed baying for more and chanting their name as they played through it. Mirai's vocals ended, and as Goko, Vegeta and Raditz played through their solos, Mirai took several steps back and ran forward, launching himself into the crowed. He vanished into a sea of hands with a yelp.

The show ended, and Death Saiyan left the stage quickly, heading for their dressing room. They passed the main act as they did so.

"You guys were fucking awesome, man!" one of them cried. "You guys are playing with us more often!"

"Perhaps," Vegeta said. "Or maybe we'll invite you to play with us in the future.

The prince left them and followed the others into the dressing room, and slumped against a wall.

"Pass me a beer," he said as he slid down it. Brolli hurled the tin towards the Prince, and left an indentation in the wall. Beer exploded everywhere as the can ruptured, soaking everybody in sticky suds.

"Well, at least I'm cool. Now pass me some cold water. Pass it this time, don't hurl it."

The water was tossed through the air and Vegeta's arm flashed out and caught it. He ripped the top off and poured the contents over himself. The makeup ran, leaving a black and white mingled mess down his face and chest, but Vegeta didn't care. He just drank more water and then hit the beer. He was through his seventh tin when the door burst open, revealing a traumatised-looking Mirai, wearing nothing but his expression, his hands covering his naughty bits.

"They raped me!" he sobbed as he slumped against the door.

"That's it my son!" Vegeta crowed. "Show them what the Briefs are made of!"

"I'm not wearing any briefs…" Mirai wailed and took about drowning his sorrows in beer. The others gradually joined in with the drinking, and soon Napa was sent out on a mission to locate hard liquor. After finding Mirai some new clothes, the Saiyans trooped out into the night, in search of alcohol and exitement after their greatest night yet!

AN: I haven't updated in a while I know, sorry, but I'm finding it harder and harder to find the time to do everything. That and sometimes I just can't think of the words I want to use or how to progress the chapters. I apologise profusely.

And for those who wish to know, the songs Death Saiyan 'made up' will be parodies of songs and will be added in full after the story ends.

Until next time,

Paul.