Ok, kids. Earlier in the creating of 'The Dentist', I had the feeling that several people enjoyed the thought of Vegeta being a shrink. Please read the aforementioned story first, so you can understand anything going on here. It's taken from a first person perspective of Piccolo, obviously. These are the thoughts and feelings he has, but the ones he never voices. Also important: This takes place before we are introduced to everyone. That means no Nail, no Sarah, no Iris... At least not yet. I think I will continue this fic. Seems promising. Without further dilemma... I give you my newest child: The Plaque Fighting Killer Within

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Things haven't been looking any better for me since I began seeing Dr. Briefs. I am still feeling irritable towards life in general, and don't really see the point in going on. I thought receiving counselling would get me through this depression over Lila.

But like the choice of my promiscuous first wife, I was dead wrong.

Vegeta Briefs is one of the people who I despise the most. In fact, after my wife and her man-whore boyfriend, Briefs ranks up there on the my mental list of people to blow away. The man is a cocky, self-absorbed guy with an attention span of a retarded kid with ADD. I believe I generally get in a good two minutes of solid narration before my psychiatrist looses interest and begins to doodle on his ever-present notepad. I really wanted to find another guy for the job, but... Somehow, I just felt that speaking my mind to another breathing (snoring) individual, no matter what an ass he is, helped a little.

The room where we always meet changes appearance periodically. It is always decorated with a decor of deep red and brown colors. It should be relaxing. I know that a guy like Briefs couldn't be responsible for it. My opinion was reinforced two sessions ago when the guy's wife came in, comparing swatches against the furniture. The fact that I was still occupying the plushy couch made no difference to the coy woman. While she is good-looking, she's not young enough to wear the skirts that reach to heaven and back. I remember Lila would do that, just to see my reaction. She always did like to see me sweat, that dirty whore.

My name is Piccolo Damioh. I am a happily (HA!) divorced man of thirty years. I only have one close relative. Even though he's my twin, we don't see each other that often. Usually we phone each other on holidays, just to make sure that the other doesn't have cancer or something... but other than that, we live our own separate lives. Nail works in a hotel chain industry, making great money for doing shit... And I get paid for doing a profession I have really come to hate.

Dentistry.

I cannot express how much I hate that God damned word. Dentistry. More like cruel and unusual punishment...For me, of course. I have no idea what the patients bitch and moan about. I mean, really. They are not the ones who have to stick their fingers in strangers' mouths. Ugh, thank God for gloves. Speaking of, I wonder where the guy has been lately. What are those religion freaks always saying? He loves us and wants us to be happy?

Biggest load of crap I've ever heard.

At first, yeah, things seemed to being going so well. Lila was everything I could hope for in a wife: She was witty and happy, not to mention beautiful. Her body has always been so thin... I used to love to hold her waist when we sat on the porch together, just marvelling at how petite she was. Of course her body wasn't all petite... But I prefer not to dwell on that matter. Her face always struck me. The way her dark eyebrows contrast with her light skin and eyes, and the deep color of her lips... I wanted her to remain with me forever, so I could just glimpse at her face everyday.

Funny, she always used to curl in a ball when she slept. I remember the way I thought of a cat when I saw her in that position. Her eyes closed softly, and a smile usually tugging at her lips... Like she had just swallowed the canary or something.

Or something.

That brings me to the subject of her new boyfriend, Bill. The guy cannot be older than twenty, seriously. His damn pecs practically stick out of whatever shirt he's wearing, boasting of his job as a physical trainer. That was where he met Lila, obviously. How could I have been so stupid as to go along with it? A man seeing MY wife sweating and skimpily clothed while doing some energetic exercise... Who wouldn't try and hit on her? Of course, this had been going on right under my nose. It wouldn't be satisfying enough if they had snuck around to do it. No no, far from it. Lila confided in me later, telling me he fucked her on my favorite couch.

I do not see how I married that bitch.

Briefs has been making notes rather rapidly on that sketchpad. I bet he's getting ready to 'rap up' his conclusions from our session earlier. Session, what a joke. He asked me if I had ever had fantasies of drugging my patients and taking advantage of them... The guy is such a sick bastard. I wouldn't be surprised if that's what gets him off. He's probably wondering how he can pull off the suggestion, the pervert.

"Well, Dr. Damioh, I can tell we've made some real progress today." Here it comes, oh boy.

"However, I think that maybe you are holding back some of your darker feelings." Like the ones where I kill you and parade your lifeless body up and down my street? Guilty. "I think it would be a good idea if you did a little exercise for me." If it involves practicing my knot-tying skills while a rope hangs around your neck, count me in! "Why don't you go home and think over your favorite intimate memories. Go over them again and again in your mind, until you realize that it's not your wife you hate, it's the fact that you had so much together and now it's wasted."

Asshole. "When you say 'intimate', do you mean-"

"Intercourse." I knew it. Pervert. "We'll discuss that topic next week, same time. And remember Piccolo, healing can only begin when you want it to." Shut UP, you pompous dick!

"Ok, same time next week."

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Yup, I am definitely adding on to this one. I like this story because it allows me to delve further into Piccolo's private thoughts. Behind his calm demeanour, he's one plaque-fighting killer! I hope you all liked this sample. Don't forget to leave a little note before you close the window. It makes me happy.

-Ace