Author's Note: Hiya there. Sorry for taking so long to update this one, I was so engrossed in writing A Blessing That Never Was. But now that said story has been completed, I could once again focus on this one. Without further ado, let's—hopefully—have some fun with everyone's favourite pair of little outlaws!
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball / Dragonball Z / Dragonball GT and its characters, the pranks, and PS Vita (I'd like to have it, though).
"Oww… my head still hurts," complained Goten. Bulma had bonked him in the head three times with her own version of the Frying Pan of Destruction. It seemed that if one managed to completely shave his hair he would be able to see three fresh scars amid countless others. The pain was accentuated by Trunks's explanation on the difference between weight and mass which confused him with all those technical terms, so he decided to let it go.
His fellow malefactor, however, being the brains behind the felony as always, was lucky to get only five smacks. The not-so-pleased mother would be more than happy to give more than he could've taken had the unfortunate skillet, Frying Pan God bless its soul, not yielded that easily. She was extremely displeased at the toughness of Saiyan skulls—a remark thanks to which Bulma earned a smirk of pride from Vegeta—and as she herded the demons to Trunks's room she said she would consider having Kibito Kai provide her a skillet made of katcheen. Also, while at it, she might as well ask if she could have a whole set of katcheenware. Oh, that would be good! No more bent spoons, forks, and knives during dinner. She could finally Saiyan-proof her cutleries!
However, they were also subjected to the worst ordeal Saiyans could imagine: no dinner. It was worse—and would always be—than a fight until life's end, and every sane Saiyan would choose to die serving Frieza and then be wished back just to serve him again over being deprived of food any day. Why, even the almighty Saiyan Prince never failed to whimper at the prospect of his mate imposing this kind of punishment! Yes, such was the influence of food for Saiyans.
"We have to prevent mom from getting her hands on the katcheen," Trunks mumbled while trying to suppress his hunger and browsing through the internet simultaneously. He was looking for ideas with his trusted crony for their next grand entrance. "If she does, we're gonna have to deal with a Frying Pan of Apocalypse!"
With his stomach rumbling constantly and violently, Goten had no energy to think, and currently he wasn't quite fond of the idea of devising plans. "But how do we do that? I mean, doesn't Kibito Kai live somewhere very far away?"
"Hey, did you forget? He'll come to our New Year's Eve party tomorrow. We can tie him up on top of the flag pole, or drown him in the pool or something."
Meanwhile in the Sacred World…
"Ah-choo! Ugh, where does this come fr—ah-choo!"
"Hmm? Well, Kindergarten Kai, as a ruler of the universe you have to take care of your health. Look at me. Despite my age, I'm as fit as a youth!" the Old Kai turned from a book he was reading so ardently—he was even flipping the pages back and forth—to his successor. Oh, he knew the ultimate panacea for every kind of illness known to living beings across the whole world and the Other. Quicker than lightning, an extraordinary feat for an over-seventy-five-million-year-old, he darted from his position to just beside the younger fused entity, offering him to read the book. "Here, let me show you my favourite! It'll make you feel better!"
Knowing exactly what was brewing in his ancestor's normally abnormal mind, Kibito Kai tried to politely decline the offer. "Uh… Dear Elder, sir, you really don't have to—"
"No buts! Now read, you'll like this!" said the grumpy greybeard as he started opening the pages in the dumbstruck Kai's face which soon assumed an excited look.
It was a book of medicinal herbs.
"But what if your mom gets to him first?"
"Hmm, dang it, you're right. Then we have—hey Goten, check this out!" Trunks exclaimed happily as though he had found a sunken galleon filled with treasures, "This kipkay guy has so many videos!"
"Oooohh! Lookie!" equally thrilled, Goten pointed at a video near the top of the list that caught his attention, "Stink Bomb Revenge! Looks fun! Click it, click it!"
They followed the link and watched the video, all thoughts about night hunger and embargoing katcheen conveniently flushed down the drain. As kipkay described how to make an extremely foul-smelling stink bomb the mini-demons took note of everything they would need. Trunks, as usual, had a devilish smirk forming on his face when the video ended, and he was more than ready to give this plan life.
"Gee, Trunks, he says it smells really rank," Goten, also as usual, had his own worry, "I wonder how bad it really is."
"I bet it's not as bad as Majin Buu's body odour," said Trunks jokingly, although it was enough to make the other child wrinkle his nose in utter disgust. When as Gotenks they were wrapped in said monster's torso, they could smell the highly obnoxious stench emanating from his sickly pink elastic body. "Ah, we'll find out. It's easy to make… and since the party's tomorrow night, mom must've bought some sparklers along with those huge fireworks."
"Where are they? Can we get them now?" asked Goten. As a young tyke the thoughts of something burning and exploding were more entertaining than everything else, excluding food, and he could hardly wait to lay his hands on all the fiery, explosive goodness.
"They're in the storeroom, but if we go there now mom will catch us. Let's go to bed now and wake up early so we can sneak in there before everybody notices."
"Okay! Wowee, there will be lots of boom-booms? This is exciting, Trunks!"
"Not only that, my friend. There will be boom-booms AND humiliation."
When Trunks finished his sentence in a very dramatic manner, the delinquent duo let out a fiendish cackle. Oh, how fun it was imagining all the repercussions of the fruits of their minds: the fun they were going to enjoy! The shame of their victims! The feeling of satisfaction! Eyes squinted in a roguish fashion, they exchanged a high-five, jumped into the queen-size spring bed, and drifted into their respective dream land.
"Goten, wake up," the cerulean-eyed imp rocked his friend to prepare for their crazy antics. The sleepyhead raven-haired kid, however, just squirmed and hid himself under the quilt. "C'mon, Goten! We gotta get those sparklers before the others wake up!"
No use. Trunks frowned but soon recalled the moment before fighting Majin Buu in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. That's it! It was a sure-fire—and perhaps the only—way to wake the Son boys up. He giggled, peeked under the quilt, and whispered at the jumbled mass of hair, "Hey, Goten, wake up. Breakfast's ready."
Sure enough, at the mention of the word 'breakfast', the boy who had been sleeping seconds ago suddenly shot up, wide awake, knocking Trunks over the edge. "Huh? Food? Where?" he whooped with so much glee, all traces of sleepiness missing from his face.
"Gee, what's the use of your ears?" Trunks mumbled loud enough for the other to hear, "You hear better with your stomach."
And so they commenced their raid. Stealthily but swiftly they navigated through the pitch-black hallways, avoiding the security bots patrolling important areas of the house and keeping their power level low enough to avoid detection by Vegeta, whose ability to sense energy was just too keen it was even functional in his sleep. They sneaked into the kitchen to snatch some items, rummaged through the recycle bin to gain enough amount of something, and finally scurried to the storeroom to secure the most crucial elements of their final mischief for the year: sparklers and fireworks. Mission accomplished! Holding all the items in their small hands, they carefully retreated to their basecamp which was the little prince's room.
"Alright, we're ready. Goten, run through the stuffs, will ya, pal?" requested Trunks to his brother-in-arms. He arranged the items nicely on the floor.
"Right!" replied the enthusiastic Goten as he followed suit and double-checked the materials that would soon be stink bombs. Sparklers: check. Scissors? He didn't remember seeing it in the video, but oh well. Perhaps it might come in handy. Check. Newspaper: check. Rubber band: check. Strike anywhere matches: a controlled and well-aimed energy blast ought to do the trick, so check. Hair? Now that was missing.
"Umm… we forget one thing, Trunks," he said with confusion daubed all over his face as he marked a cross next to the word "Hair" on his note, "Whose hair are we gonna use?"
"Yours, of course," Trunks gave him a strange look. Why did he have to ask the obvious? "Why do you ask?"
"No! No way! I'm not giving out my hair to be burned!" now realising what the pair of scissors were for, Goten stood up in protest, "Why don't we just use yours?"
"Dummy, if we use mine we'll be busted even before the fun starts. My hair is purple. They'll know we're up to something."
"But we're gonna hide the bomb, right? They won't see it."
"Just in case. Goten, this is no time to be arguing. We're using your hair, and that's that."
"Nuh-uh! Trunks, why is it always me who gets the bad part?"
Trunks thought hard for a moment, then an impish but sincere smile graced his lips. "It's not so bad if I give you a PS Vita for your little sacrifice, right?"
"Huh? But it's not out yet!" the little boy's eyes became wide open and his pupils dilated. Did he hear it right? Were his ears playing tricks on him? PS Vita?
"Mom sponsored its development with LOTS of money," Trunks made a wide arc with his outstretched arms to emphasise his point, "So, as thank-you gifts, they sent her two units. Since no one but me plays games over here, she said you can have the other one."
Goten suddenly brimmed with excitement. Being an avid gamer he was, he had been longing for said console ever since its announcement and would sell his soul to Babidi to get his hands on it before others did. And yet here he was, with his best friend, who not only had had said console in possession, but also was willing to give it for free! Technically speaking it wasn't free since he had to give up some strands of his precious, iconic spiky hair, but at least it would save him a shipload of time and effort to get his hands on one. Without much ado he agreed to Trunks's proposition and offered his head to him in a very solemn, ceremonious manner.
"Thy sacrifice hath been accepted…" Trunks's imitation of a shaman was so impeccable it amused Goten to no end. With the scissors Trunks navigated his hand around the younger halfling's surprisingly smooth crown of hair; how it formed a bizarre spiky pattern like that, not even the Old Kai knew. He searched for a perfect spot which would yield as many strands as possible when cut, but not so many Goten would notice. "Ah, there. This should do."
"Be careful, will ya?" warned the sacrificial lamb.
With a movement of the hand, accompanied by a swift shearing sound and a muffled yelp, the boys finally had all the necessary items for their stink bomb prank checked. Goten then turned around to receive further instructions from Trunks, but what he saw was a statue. Well, almost a statue; there stood his buddy, unmoving, his right hand—still holding the pair of scissors—suspending in the air, and his face having gone up several values in the lightness department.
"What's wrong, Trunks?" the younger jester tilted his head to the left and inquired curiously. Despite being almost completely frozen Trunks could actually manage a nervous, lopsided smile, and Goten could see his lips quiver and hear him producing funny chuckling sounds. Then it so happened that he looked at the floor, and as a result his face became even paler than Trunks's, perhaps as pale as the Kamikaze Ghosts themselves. The fact that his hair was scattered all over wasn't what shocked him; rather, he was appalled at the sheer amount of hair that had fallen to the floor.
"T-t-t-trunks… you d-don't…"
No answer. With as much courage and strength as he could muster, Goten limped to the wardrobe, opened the door, looked at his reflection in the mirror, and threw an energy ball and lunged at Trunks while screaming like a person desperately needing a good exorcism.