"Ya pervy old fart!" a scorned blonde unleashed a hail of bullets at a frightened old man in shades who just moments earlier burst out from the little house located on a remote island in the middle of the sea on a south-eastern corner of the world. "You've just sniffed your last pair 'a panties!"
The outraged blond woman rightfully bunkered herself inside of the house, unchaining the hell that she had boiling inside her all at once in controlled bursts and streams. Whereas before the bald old-timer merely fled however he could, once he regained his footing and composure after being noticed and found out, he began ducking and avoiding the bullets with more skillful moves, though still fumbling over himself and tripping over his own feet.
The surrounding world drowned out in bottomless deep of black as a lightning-clad impulse lashed within Muten Roshi's mind, prompting him to look away and into the sky to the west. He sensed a powerful Ki signature floating in the skies above, surrounded by an assortment of less powerful yet still formidable Ki. It was not necessarily the size of those signatures that troubled the old martial arts master but their nature for it was the sense he knew well – the fiendish whiff of the Evil Tribe.
"K-King Piccolo? Impossible…" the old man muttered to himself, having absolutely no idea how the Evil Tribe might have revived itself with the old Demon King dead and buried and his reincarnation having severed all affiliations with his demonic past, as well as being part of Earth's divinity which made any attempts from his part in creating constructs of the Evil Tribe futile.
"M-Muten Roshi, are you okay?" sea turtle bellowed, seeing the old martial arts master riddled with bullets, the fact that the troubled old man himself seemed to ignore. Muten Roshi hopped up, turning around as he slipped his sandal off and sent it flying toward the Kame House in a trajectory that led it to bounce off of the white window shutter and socked the blond woman right in the head, knocking her out immediately.
"O-Old geezer, maybe that was a bit extreme!" the sea turtle exclaimed, crawling back into the house to check on the unconscious gung-ho beauty. It was not her wrath toward Muten Roshi and the way in which he found entertainment that the old man tried to protect from, it was her noxious personality and the way in which she could have gotten herself killed because of it that prompted the Turtle Hermit to pull such a stunt.
"Ho-ho-ho! Well, would you look at that!?" an annoying shriek filled the air as skies died out with a swarm of annoying gnats. One of them that was in charge of the squad of armored soldiers was the most frightening. His Ki signature far surpassed that of Muten Roshi's and even most of the Earth's warriors that might have rushed to his aid if he powered up in a desperate plight to stand his ground. "A neat, little Earthling house. We've heard gunfire, it wouldn't have happened to be directed toward us, eh, old man?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Muten Roshi took a neutral stance, turning his side to the invading Evil Tribe force as she placed his arms behind his back. "We have had our dealings with the Evil Tribe and we know better than to shoot at you. Our weapons wouldn't work even against this fodder of an army you lead."
"Oh? Isn't this a surprise? You know what the Evil Tribe is then, old man?" Medamatcha croaked, dancing in mid-air in excitement.
"That's right, we've had a Demon King of our own rise and fall on Earth. Even if a single one of those soldiers behind you could take the Earth over all by themselves, you will find nothing but defeat on this planet. Consider this an early warning and leave back to wherever you've come from," Muten Roshi warned the invading force of space demons.
"Ki-ki-ki… You're interesting, old man, I think I'm gonna eat your heart after I drain all of your energy…" Medamatcha made improper gestures with his hands, similar to those that Muten Roshi used to inhibit when he was about to engage in some fondling of women bosom and licked his lips.
"S-Sir. This old man seems knowledgeable, perhaps we should question him about the Earth's Dragon Balls?" one of the soldiers asked Medamatcha before the sadistic space goblin got himself too excited.
"D-Dragon Balls!?" Muten Roshi's eyebrows tilted and his mouth jarred open. He didn't expect even the Evil Tribe from another corner of the universe to scurry to Earth in search of the magical, wish-granting orbs. Though it made sense that they would know what they are, given how they must have been spawned by a Demon King of their own, similar to old Piccolo.
"Oh!? You know of them? Lord Slug wishes them very much. He might spare your pitiful planet from utter obliteration if you hand them down and he'll let your rock join his mighty, demonic empire!" Medamatcha spread his arms out wide as if to demonstrate how generous his offer was. "You'll still likely die, old fool, you were far too defiant and crude toward the Evil Tribe…" the dwarfish space demon cackled.
"You will find no Dragon Balls here, go back to the hellhole you've come from!" Muten Roshi broke his neutral stance by shaking his fist out in front of himself as a threatening gesture. He should not have lost his cool like that but the situation was dire. He needed to power himself up to the limit as a beacon to everyone about this situation though, given the nature of the Evil Tribe, they may have had troubles of their own on their hands. He might have had to deal with this situation himself like the good old days.
"Oh well… I'll like questioning you my own way anyway…" Medamatcha cackled. "Would you also, by any chance know of a female Saiyan too? She is, after all, the naïve fool that led Lord Slug to this planet, after all. You should betray her as an act of revenge, be a little bit naughty, see how good it feels!"
"A female Saiyan, could it be Chayote?" Muten Roshi pondered to himself, there were very few female Saiyans affiliated with Earth, now that he did an elementary headcount in his mind, there was only Chayote and the female warrior that came together with Bardock, though it was far less likely that she'd have been involved with the Evil Tribe and their affairs.
"Be as silent as you want to be, I have my own ways to make you talk, old-timer!" Medamatcha giggled to himself before lunging at Muten Roshi by himself, letting his men hang back. The despicable goblin was as fast as his tremendous Ki suggested, a painful shock resonated in Muten Roshi's head the moment he realized that he was under attack.
It wasn't like Medamatcha thought of stopping just this far, choosing instead to swing his stubby arms and feet about in a vicious beatdown that numbed old Roshi's senses and sent him down on his knees and wheezing as blood trickled from his broken nose and cracked lip. As much as the veteran martial artist wanted to just jump back on his knees and engage the vicious little bastard, his strength and health failed him as the enemy was just too strong, Roshi managed to return back on his feet but his feet were too wobbly and vision too blurry for a meaningful response.
"Well, feeling more talkative?" Medamatcha chuckled, cracking his knuckles. He barely even began tapping into the resources of his cruelty and he already had Muten Roshi in a motherlode of all pinches. There was no conceivable way of winning this clash though, perhaps, his old and brittle bones still had it in them to deal with this annoying gnat for the rest of the Dragon Team.
"I warned you, demon," Muten Roshi hissed as he spread his legs out wide and raised his arms over his head. An intense air pressure gripped around the throat of the undergrown demonic personality as he began trembling in either fear of excitement as he found himself completely unable to resist whatever was coming next.
The intense airwave turned to a horizontal air tunnel that encompassed Medamatcha and Muten Roshi alike and began changing its color to that of salad green. The defiant and cocky demonling raised his stumpy arms up in resistance to the authoritative air pressure but he could do little to nothing as bit by bit, he began feeling as if his entire body was being disassembled into strings bit by bit until he became one with the airwave the sole purpose of which was to do away with all evil. Medamatcha's features blurred within the howling, sealing wave of energy as it became as if there were a whole handful of his copies being sealed away all at once.
"Mafuba!" Muten Roshi croaked as he swung his arms, aiming toward the open window and the pot of boiling rice that Launch had on the electric cooker. The boiling pot swung around uneasy, gleaming with emerald energy that tried to bust out from within but Oolong leaped in for the save, placing the lid over the pot and completing the sealing ritual.
"How's that? It is an ultimate technique that the Earth has devised to deal with the likes of you – the Mafuba!" Muten Roshi wheezed as his eyelids became heavy and his arms weighed down, trembling in pain as profuse sweat began to sprout from the old man's pores all at once, soaking him completely.
"J-Just what the heck was that!?" Medamatcha's shrieking voice filled the air, making Muten Roshi's eyes snap so wide open that his shades slipped off his nose and fell down onto the sand of his island while his skin turned completely pale as the circulation of blood halted in the panic of the old martial artist. "Damn, I almost got done in by some strong wind… If only I didn't split off into my Medas and tribute one of them to that infernal pot…"
"N-No…" Muten Roshi muttered before slumping down on the sand, completely powerless and drained of all strength to continue.
"Hm? What's that? You've gone on ahead and died on me?" Medamatcha scratched his head without shifting his stupid-looking expression of blown out, yellow eyes, and fishy lips that seemed stuck on the position of a goofy smirk the whole time. "Well, that's unfortunate, I guess that makes us back to square one… No more use for this annoying island then, hopefully, if I destroy it, my Meda will come back to me."
"W-Wait, please take this Dragon Ball!" sea turtle burst out the door, fondling between his fins a fist-sized orange orb with four, red stars on its front. "Just leave our home and our island alone!"
"Hm?" Medamatcha turned at the turtle with a goofy grin that seemed to terrify the sea turtle for a second there as he genuinely couldn't tell if the little, froggy goblin was going to blast him to smithereens or take him up on his deal as the silence stretched on and on. "Okay. Since you've asked so nicely, we'll just take all the interesting stuff you've got in that house and leave. Lord Slug only needs the Dragon Ball and the Saiyan woman, after all."
"N-No, there's absolutely no need for you to stick around for even a minute longer. Everything valuable we have is sealed into capsules anyway," the sea turtle began shaking his fin out in front of himself in fright. "Just take the Dragon Ball and leave, please! You've already caused enough damage, I'll even go ahead and release your little doppelganger that Muten Roshi sealed away for you."
"Actually, Medamatcha-san, we've seen those Earthlings use this interesting storage technology called capsules. It is unlike anything anywhere else in the universe. Taking all the capsules these Earthlings have in exchange for their miserable lives is a decent enough deal," one of the soldiers in the platoon led by Medamatcha suggested. The little amphibian demon began scratching his head, looking rather miffed as he couldn't figure out what to do despite turning on all of his limited intelligence.
"Y-Yes! We'll give you all of the old, pervy ju… I mean treasure that Muten Roshi has stored in the several centuries that he's been alive for. It's all in one case of capsules, I'll take it out for you!" sea turtle noticed a chance to make the invaders leave. Medamatcha turned to the soldier who suggested taking the capsules away from the inhabitants of this island who kicked the sea turtle aside and rushed into the house, leaving a few seconds later with a luggage-sized metal case in hand.
"There's an Earthling woman in that house though her vitals are weak. This old man seems to be on his last legs too. All the Earthlings except for the talking animals appear to be obliterated, we've got the capsules and the Dragon Balls," the soldier reported, handing the metal case back to Medamatcha who wrapped his stubby arms around the case and pressed it to his body while another soldier picked up the Dragon Ball and pocketed it.
"Excellent, now that I know that all the Earthlings are either dead or about to be, I'll feel so much better about returning to report to Lord Slug," Medamatcha giggled. "There's no use in slaying the fauna anyway, it'll make this planet worth much less in the end. We don't want another incident like on Planet Babari, do we?"
"No, sir!" the soldiers all saluted at once. A loud popping noise filled the air together with a flashy burst of colorful clouds that seemed to demand the full attention of the invading soldiers. Medamatcha as well as his armed goons all turned to a chubby, undergrown pig that fell flat on his butt from the hold of one of the soldiers who raised his hands up in the air, shocked at the fact that the Dragon Ball he cradled had just become an anthropomorphic pig.
"A witch! This man is a witch! Turned a Dragon Ball into a pig he did!" Oolong pointed an accusatory finger at the Evil Tribe soldier who shook his arms in denial and began spouting apologies as well as excuses to try and shift the blame.
"Oh no… If only it was Puar who performed the shapeshifting and not Oolong…" sea turtle sighed in disappointment as their switcheroo plan to get rid of the alien invaders appeared to have failed.
"Hm? You're not a Dragon Ball, you're just a pig…" Medamatcha pointed his finger at Oolong. Without any further warning, the froggy goblin extended his hand and formed a gleaming sphere of concentrated energy, though he did not fire his energy wave due to the fact that Oolong pleaded for his life, choosing to delay the obliteration of the deceitful swine for just one second to listen to his plight.
"Look, we don't really have the Dragon Ball, we haven't collected them but we know a girl who has the radar that can find the Dragon Balls!" Oolong pleaded his case so that Medamatcha didn't reduce him to ashes with his shiny blast. Hearing this, Medamatcha's blast weakened and drew in until it was but a mere flickering point of light before completely fading out.
"You mean like the one that the female Saiyan used to collect the Ultimate Dragon Balls?" Medamatcha wondered.
"Y-Yeah! She's the one that built it, in fact. She can build that sort of stuff, whatever other planets with Dragon Balls you find – she can build a radar to find them!" Oolong nodded repeatedly, looking energetic about the fact that he had just successfully bargained for his insignificant life.
"Interesting. Lord Slug will accept taking that woman as his slave though she will have to be constantly tortured so that the miserable vibe of our Evil Tribe spaceship remains intact. Anything that's not of demonic origin just ruins the atmosphere, it reeks, we can't stand it!" Medamatcha stuck out his tongue. "This ability of hers sounds very useful, however, you've saved your life until you can show us her location, pig."
"You're a shapeshifter, aren't you, change into a radar that shows her location. You are unsightly to look at even to us, Evil Tribe demons," one of the soldiers demanded. Oolong was all too eager to comply given how this was his only chance at postponing his demise for the time being.
"What are you doing? Didn't you hear that they are going to torture Bulma-san until the end of her days?" the sea turtle tried shaking Oolong out of this silly plan but Oolong shoved his fins off of him.
"Don't worry, I'm sure that Goku or Krillin or Yamcha is going to find us before they capture Bulma. I'm sure that Yamcha's stalking Bulma anyway, there's no way those two are over each other…" Oolong laughed out even though his guts were turning and wrapping around themselves in terror deep within.
"Just so you know, we demons of the Evil Tribe have an excellent hearing!" Medamatcha shrieked out, threatening to scoop Oolong's head clean off with a swipe of his claws but halting just so the shapeshifting pig could take his squad to this Bulma who can build Lord Slug as many Dragon Radars as planets hosting Dragon Clan Namekians there are out there. "Just one sign of betrayal, shapeshifter, and we'll settle for asking some other Earthlings for directions."
"R-Right!" Oolong muttered with a face that suggested a mean case of constipation before taking the form of the desired Bulma Radar to fit into the hand of any given soldier. The radar still had some general features of Oolong's face on its front side. "Just so you know, my transformation only lasts around five minutes and then I will need at least a minute of a break."
"No worries," Medamatcha cackled to himself in fiendish glee. "We aren't that slow as to take this long to scour your measly planet in such a slog of time."
Oolong who had at that point become an anthropomorphic Bulma Radar just gulped in terror, realizing the pickle that he got himself into that, all things considered, still beat getting blasted into oblivion and reduced to a pile of ashes. The platoon of Evil Tribe soldiers and Medamatcha took off heading toward West City to the north-west of the Kame Island's current location. Their departure made the sea turtle sigh a breath of relief as he knew that both Muten Roshi and Launch would recover before long.
Now if only someone did something about this army of space demons invading Earth, they could return back to their normal routine…