So here we are again with our sake-seeking hero as he is about to venture from his front doorstep…

Chapter 2: The Speedo, the Slapper and the Stud

Vegeta ventured out into the garden, quickly scanning the immediate area for his super-special sake. Seeing nothing, he flared up his ki, about to take off to the skies…

"Honey!"

Vegeta, who was about five metres off the ground by now, fell back to earth with a bump, his concentration being broken. He felt at the developing bruise on his arse. Damn that woman! Dare she bruise the saiya-jin prince's buttocks?

"Goddammit, woman, what's wrong with you? What the hell do you want of me now?"

Bulma just shrugged off the comment and held up a small green and silver contraption. Vegeta recognised it immediately.

"A dragon radar? You bruised my ass for a goddamn dragon radar! I don't need a dragon radar, Bulma, I have no need for Dragonballs, you incompetent trashy slut!"

Bulma threw the radar at him in a huff.

"Hmph! Suppose that's what I get for trying to help a stupid monkey. For your information, mister, it's not a regular radar. It's my special 'Sake Radar'."

Vegeta looked, nonplussed, at his wife. Bulma sighed.

"Instead of detecting the Dragonballs, it should detect your lost sake. I haven't tested it yet though…"

"Silence, woman. You have done enough. Go now. You bore me."

Putting the Sake Radar in his pocket, Vegeta flared up his ki once again and took to the skies, leaving his home and wife behind.

When he was a fair way up, he took the radar out and looked at it. It wasn't bleeping, blipping, or even beep-beeping. Annoyed, Vegeta shook it vigorously, trying to get it to work.

"Crappy thing! Stupid woman! Giving me a stupid piece of crap that doesn't work!"

Incensed even further, Vegeta hit the little machine in his rage. Forgetting his own strength, he put a dent in the small device, making a few tiny sparks fly as a small component fell off the radar, falling to the ground below.

"Oh piss!"

Vegeta cursed as the tiny iddy-biddy little shiny thing was falling fast. He was about to follow it when a sharp beeping caught his attention. The radar was working! A small yellow blip appeared on the screen, as with the dragon radar when it detected a dragonball.

"Yes! I always knew I was smarter than that woman!"

With that, he followed the blip on the screen to his super-special sake.

As he was flying through the clouds, Vegeta began to tire. He had been flying for many hours now. 'Crap,' he thought, 'with no evil assfezzes around I'm getting out of shape.' He looked up ahead. He could just make out the outline of the lookout.

"Ha! Maybe Dende and Piccolo can amuse me for a while until I'm rested."

He picked up the pace a little, heading for the big white thing suspended in the sky.

Eventually, upon reaching the lookout, the first thing he saw filled him with such loathing, hatred and disgust that he had the urge to throw up. But that's just not what princes do, so he didn't. Anyway, the source of his contempt, his long-term rival, the simple-minded dickhead, the one with whom he was constantly a competitor with to be the strongest warrior. The one, above all, whose haircut was just too similar to his. Oh yes, that was him alright. But, hang on…what the hell? Vegeta stared at his rival, his urge to be sick coming back at a rate of knots at the sudden realisation of a very distressing fact.

"Kakkorott? What in the fiery depths of Hades are you WEARING?"

Goku put on his 'I'm a goody-goody-cocksucking-steriotypical-saviour-of-the-world-and-I-have-no-brain smile.

"You mean this? It's my Speedo! Like it? Gohan likes it because he says it defines my testicles."

"…"

"Piccolo says he likes it too 'cos when I bend over he can see my ass crack! Wanna see?"

Vegeta wanted so badly to just run away, but his foolish monkey pride permitted him not to move. A lesser woman would have upped and run away, like Krillin maybe.

"NO! No, Kakkorott, that's fine."

"Don't you like it, Vegeta?"

"Umm……"

"You don't, do you?"

Vegeta, as much as he tried, could not take his eyes off the insanely tight lemon yellow plastic garment. He strained out an answer between his mental wretchings.

"Kakkorott…to be honest, I HATE it. To think that you are a Saiya-jin? A SUPER SAIYA-JIN?"

Goku looked a little hurt, but then perked up again.

"That's ok, Vegeta. Your opinion doesn't matter anyway 'cos you're a grumpy sourpuss. Anyways, why can't Saiya-jins wear Speedos? I think they're great! They match my hair when I power up!"

"Kakkorott, I can see your pubes. A SAIYA-JIN SHOULD NOT HAVE HIS GODDAMN PUBIC HAIR ON SHOW!"

Goku was about to launch into a big fat rant of how great Speedos are, but he saw Yajirobe on the other side of the lookout, and ran towards him, his Speedo squeaking as he did so.

"Hey! Yajirobe! Like my Speedo? Gohan says it…"

His voice trailed off as he got further away. Vegeta felt very, very ill. 'that cannot be the strongest guy in the universe,' he thought. 'even Mr Popo has better fashion sense than he does.' At that point, Mr Popo waddles up to Vegeta, having telepathically overheard him.

"I'll have you know that my dress sense is considered a fashion statement across the galaxy! I even have my own cult, you know!"

"Wha?"

Mr Popo puffed his chest out proudly.

"The Opoppopo Cult!"

"The Popyopiwhawha?"

"The grand Opoppopo Cult! Haven't you heard of it?"

Vegeta regained his composure.

"No, but I imagine it to be a record-breaking achievement."

"Really? Well I must say-"

Vegeta cut him off.

"Yes, a record-breaking achievement. The cult that has the biggest ever number of little fat black people wearing turbans and ridiculous amounts of lipstick flying on crappy magic carpets in the galaxy."

Mr Popo tried or a few seconds to think of a bitching retort, but when he couldn't think of one, he started to snivel…

"……waaahh! Dende! Vegeta's picking on me!"

…and then ran away. Vegeta watched him go, shrugging it off and moving on.

Avoiding the Speedo-crazed Goku, he advanced further into the chambers of the lookout. Soon he was confronted by Piccolo.

However, there was something very different about this Namek.

Something very different and very wrong.

"Hello soldier boy!"

"…"

"What?"

"…"

"Vegeta, what's wrong?"

"Piccolo…I want an explanation and I want one now as to WHY you are wearing a PVC nurse outfit and carrying a giant syringe. And wearing lipstick. And false eyelashes. And…OH MY GOD, PICCOLO! HAVE YOU – HAVE YOU HAD A…"

"Tit-job? Why yes, yes I have. I'm an F-cup now. I think they're rather becoming, considering my new career."

Vegeta just stared. The one warrior he had at least a little respect for had turned into a shemale.

"What career?"

"Don't you know, sweetheart? I'm a rent namek."

"A WHAT?"

"A rent namek. You know, you pay me, I give you a bit of a poke, nudge nudge wink wink!"

Vegeta put his head in his hands. 'oh my god. He's become a rent boy. A MOTHERUCKING RENT BOY! What a day this is turning out to be…could it get any weirder?'

A voice snapped him out of his despairing thoughts –

"Look, ladies, ladies, ladies, be patient, there's plenty of me to go around, there's no need to fight over me…"

Vegeta looked around the corner to see the person that he thought least likely to see there.

"But Yamcha, we want you now!"

"Hmm…but I've got my full-body wax in an hour…and then I've got my pedicure after that…"

All the 15 girls around him all looked sad.

"Aww!"

A dirty look ran across Yamcha's face.

"There is salvation, my pretties! Come with me!"

He dragged all of them off into a chamber.

"Where are we going, Yamcha?"

"The Time-Soul Room!"

The sound of the girls' giggling and moaning could be heard before the door was shut. Piccolo tutted and said disapprovingly,

"That's just plain disgusting, that is."

Vegeta looked from him to the door that had just closed in complete and utter disbelief. 'Yep. It got weirder."