Piccolo sat down on the edge of the lookout. It was the perfect day to meditate; the sun was shining, just like it always was except during climactic scenes, the lookout had been rid of other occupants by Piccolo throwing them off the edge of the platform, and it was quiet.

"Hummmmmmmmmm," Piccolo uttered the sacred word of centering. He thoughts moved through time, conjuring up images and wisdom he would never use. Words flashed through his head, and it was too late before he noticed they meant something.

Doe a deer, a female deer. Ray, a drop of golden sun. Me a name, I call myself... Piccolo's eye's shot open. No, no no no no! Please say it isn't so! I won't let it happen! No! To late, the song was stuck in Piccolo's head. Far, a longer way to run! Sew a needle pulling tread! "AAAAUUUUUUURRRRRHHHHHHHHH!" Piccolo let out a blood-curdling scream and jumped off the lookout, trying to outrun the song from hell.

Landing at the base, Piccolo stopped and listened to his head. Nothing.

Walking past two holes in the ground that looked like outlines of Dende and Mr. Popo, he found a patch of ground he could float above without interruption. "Hummmmmmmmm. Hummmmmme a name I call myse- No!" Piccolo stood up and beat his skull, trying to knock the song out.

Now having a headache and a song stuck in his head, Piccolo blasted into the sky, and headed towards the 439-mountain district. Goku was outside and looked like he was training.

"Goku?" Piccolo asked.

The Saiyan was muttering, and with his hearing, Piccolo listened in.

"You put your left foot in, you put your left foot out, you put your left foot in..."

"Goku!" Piccolo yelled. It's bad enough having one song stuck in my head.

"Oh, hey Piccolo! What's up?"

"Spar with me. Right now."

"Uh, okay."

They spared for seven hours. Piccolo forgot all about the song, and he left the beaten form of Goku behind. He flew up to the lookout in record time and sat down. Time to medi-te a drink with jam and bread.

Piccolo opened his eye's and saw that Dende was trying his best to be inconspicuous. Piccolo then knew that the short Namek was the problem. Getting up, he walked over to where Dende was watching the Earth, and leaned over.

"Do, a deer, a female deer. Ray a drop of golden sun." Piccolo stood up and walked away.

He arrived at his room and smiled, the song was gone.

Dende stared at his mentor, wondering why he had done that. Sure, he had placed the song in his head, but why sing it to him?

He looked back over the edge and his mind wandered. Me a name I call myself. Dende face then dawned as the song got firmly imbedded in his head. That Namek's too smart for his own good. Far a longer way to run!