Vegeta walked out of the shower, toweling off his unruly hair. It had been such an intense session that even he thought he stunk. Who would have thought that day would arrive?
He tossed the damp towel into a corner of the bedroom and made his way to the couch, where he turned around and fell onto his back. "Aaaahhhhhhhh-shit."
Bulma stood over the prone Saiyan with a casual look on her face. This meant that anything was up besides something casual.
"So Vegeta," She said, and this was the final alarm that let Vegeta know something was up. She had used his name. "Did you hear that Goku went out and earned his drivers license just for Chichi?"
"Of course," The prince said, sitting up and twisting around to face his wife right side up, "That happened about ten years ago, if I'm not mistaken."
"Eleven, but I'll let it slide," She smirked, enjoying the fact that she had been able to correct the prince, "Well, I was just thinking about it and-"
"No," Vegeta interrupted.
"Oh come on!" she pleaded, rounding the couch, "Please?"
"No! I am not getting a drivers license when I can simply fly!"
"Fine," she said, pouting, "You know what else I heard?"
"What?" Vegeta sighed, to tired to argue.
"That when Goku got his license, Chichi started to have sex with him twice a night."
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Why do I always do this? Vegeta thought to himself as he stood outside the driving school, that woman knows to many of my weak points. Food, sex…Food…More sex. Dammit! I need to stop being so dependant on these things! Especially the woman. I need to find a way to stop getting her to wear those damn 'clothes' to bed! Most of all that one black one with the red bow on the front that comes off with the flick of a wrist…
Vegeta was startled to find he had an audience. A man, who looked like death had overlooked him several times, stood hunched and weezened before the Prince. He must be a hundred!
The man was talking, "I found it rather strange that the woman requested the same driving instructor as Son Goku, but I figured he turned out alright, so she must want you to do the same!" The man looked at Vegeta, "Well, come here, girl. I won't bite."
"I'm a man!" Vegeta snarled out, deepening his voice just in case.
"Oh! Sorry. I can't see as well as I used to. Well, let's get started."
Vegeta rounded to the drivers' side and sat down. What's with this contraption? I've only flown spaceships! What the… Where's the hyper-drive lever? Vegeta looked over and noticed the old man seemed to be having problems with his door; he was too weak to open it. The Saiyan snarled and flung the door open from the inside, throwing the old man back.
"Whoo!" The man said, getting up, "I guess I don't know my own strength." He felt his arms and attempted a poise no body builder would ever try.
"Get in the damn car!" Vegeta yelled after this continued for twenty more seconds.
"Oh! Sorry." The old man stepped in, "Now my lady-"
"Male!"
"Sorry. Place the car in first and lightly press down on the gaaaaaaaahhHHHH!"
The car flew down the driveway, swatting aside other cars, students, and a UFO on its way. Finally, Vegeta let up on the gas and rolled to a stop.
"Did you like that old man?"
The man was clutching his chest and pulled out a device with the words, "Beat-o-matic" printed on the side. He pressed it over his chest and a shock ran through his body.
"Whew! That was close." He looked around, "Not bad! You made it into the parking space without even being told!" Vegeta scowled, "Now lets work on city driving. To the left is a course we've set up to simulate a city. Please take us gently to thhhaaaAAAAAAAAA!"
Vegeta slammed his foot down on the gas again, enjoying the old fools screams for help. He pulled into the street in between two other students and peeled out down the road.
"Speed limit! Speed limit!" The old man was shouting, "Only 25 miles per hour!"
"What!" Vegeta yelled, "You expect me, the prince of all Saiyans, to limit myself! Do you think that by limiting myself these other people will be able to surpass me? Is that your game! Well, I don't think so! I'm not going to let anyone slow me down!"
The old man didn't answer as he began to press his device against his chest once more.
Suddenly, without warning, a huge black Cadillac SUV pulled in behind Vegeta. The sunroof opened and a man dressed all in white with white hair and white skin stood up and started shooting machine gun fire at Vegeta's car. Vegeta was about to blast them away, when the driver, who looked like the shooters twin, pulled on his leg and showed the shooter what appeared to be a script. The shooter started shouting and pointing, and the SUV took off after a girl in black leather on a road bike.
Vegeta slowed down and let the old man catch his breath. "It's a good thing you drive so fast!" The old man said, "Those weird things could have smoked us!"
There is no pissing this man off! Vegeta thought, I go fast and he's pleased, even though I'm breaking the law! Well, I'll show him! Vegeta slowed down to the speed limit and continued to crawl along.
When Vegeta wasn't looking, the old man smiled to himself. Reverse psychology. Works every time.
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"Why is this freak following me," Vegeta yelled, "Doesn't he know this is my road!"
"He's just moving with the flow of traffic," the instructor said, "now why don't you pull onto the highway here. The highway is a place where you can go faster and not have to stop."
Vegeta looked at the man, "Why didn't we go there before! I've been putting up with this slow speed for too long!"
Vegeta pulled onto the on ramp and brought the car up to 130 kilometers per hour. Much better. He drove down the lane, for once content, as his instructor fiddled with the radio. He looked up as Vegeta asked a question.
"What's up with this moron," he said, "He's going to slow."
"That's alright," the old man said, "that's what the other lane is for. Just pull to the left and pass his there."
Vegeta began to pull the vehicle left, but after a flurry of horns and squealing brakes, found himself behind the slow driver again.
"Next time look to make sure no one else is in the lane," the instructor said.
Vegeta waited patiently (About two seconds) and then moved his car to the left lane. As he passed the slow car, he noticed the maker of the vehicle. Ford? Suddenly a rock spun up from under Vegeta's tire and tapped the windshield of the other car. The car blew up spectacularly.
Vegeta glanced in the rearview mirror at the flames and rubble and turned to the old man.
"It's alright," he said, "the people who drive that brand take the risk every time they get on the road. Poor souls. Here's our exit, just pull over and slow down for the ramp."
"What!" Vegeta yelled, "I'm not getting off the highway for that lesser road! I'm skipping that exit and claiming this road for me!" He reached down to the radio, "And I'm not listening to this country crap either!"
Vegeta passed a second car that was going way too slow, and glanced to the right at the driver. Piccolo?
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Vegeta walked up to the driving school the next day and noticed his instructor was missing. His new instructor filled him in.
"He had a mental collapse last night," she said, "He kept running down the street saying something about a "saying prince trying to kill him." We have no idea what happened."
Vegeta hid his grin as he climbed into the car, shaking off his hair from the rain that had swept in from the south. He pulled the car out of the spot and said to his instructor, "Where to?" Seconds later he pulled back into the parking spot and waited for the instructor to get into the car this time. Humans are so slow!
"You must have forgotten me!" the woman said, "how shameful. Do I need to make sure you never forget me again?"
Vegeta glanced at the woman who was making eyes at him and licking her lips. No thanks. He turned his attention back to the road and squinted. The windshield was covered in rain.
"Just flick the switch on the right side of the drivers wheel and turn on the wiper blades; they'll help you see."
"I don't need them!" Vegeta exclaimed, "I can see just fine!"
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Vegeta put the car in reverse and backed away from the telephone pole he had just hit. "I saw it," he said without looking at his passenger, "I just chose to hit it."
"Mm-Hmm," she said, "Do you want to go out on a date?"
She didn't even notice, Vegeta thought and flicked the windshield wipers on. He pulled on to the road and continued.
"That's a stop sign," the woman said, "that means you must stop and make sure no one is coming on the other road."
"What!" Vegeta yelled, "I'm not stopping! Everyone should be stopping for me! I am the prince of all Saiyans! I will not let anyone bring me down!"
A flurry of horns, screeching tires, and a befuddled Piccolo, and they were through the intersection.
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"Well," the instructor said, "since you've been here, you've broken every single driving law three times, at least, wreaked five cars, killed seventeen people, but they all came back to life somehow, and made a man so pissed he grew antennas and turned green."
"So do I get my license?" Vegeta asked.
"Normally, I would never give one to you. But, for a little tip, I could." She raised her eyebrows, and the meaning of the tip was clear to everyone in a seventeen-mile radius.
"Print it up and I'll give you that tip," Vegeta said, raising his own eyebrows.
She printed up the license in record time and handed it to the Saiyan, then closed her eyes and puckered up her lips. Vegeta leaned forward. Her mouth trembled. Then Vegeta whispered, "Don't trade a cow for magic beans."
The instructor opened her eyes and saw the prince walking away. Then she understood. "Not that type of tip!"
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Bulma greeted Chichi at the front door and the two woman exchanged hugs.
"So I heard the news," Chichi said when they got settled in the living room, "Vegeta got his license?"
"Yes he did," Bulma said, "But he's not very good at it."
"So? What are you going to do about it?"
"I've already solved it," Bulma said and stood up, "I'll show you."
The two women walked into a garage and Bulma pointed to a vehicle.
"That?" Chichi exclaimed.
"Yep," Bulma patted the huge monster truck she had bought, "The best feature is on the front bumper.
Chichi walked to the front and saw tons of torn clothing tied to the front bumper.
Bulma was speaking, "Between the size of the truck and the clothing, he can fairly breeze through a town. Who the hell would walk in front of him?"
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It was a bit rushed, but I've always wanted to do this one! Have a good weekend!
