"Greetings, dear viewers, who have joined us today on this live broadcast of an unexpected press conference! My name is Mark Mellows and I am the special correspondent from the West Channel News, hot on the scene! Right now, there isn't much of anything happening. Ever since Bulma, the current president of Capsule Corps, announced the press conference, journalists from all across the globe began swarming here to the West Channel News Tower. Obviously, West Channel News was the first to get the scoop, since Bulma contacted us directly…"
A man in a suit with a haircut containing a mixture of hair gel easily half his own weight and most of the periodic table was yelling into the camera. The reason for his elevated voice wasn't just his passion for his work, even though he'd have been yelling either way, it was actually the major number of special correspondents gathering under one roof to break down the scoop of the week. In the cutthroat world of television broadcasts, chivalry was dead, meaning Mark Mellows had to nudge more than one lady correspondent with his shoulder to get a better angle and to fit into the frame of the camera fully. Compromising his competition helped too.
"With time ticking down to the important press conference, we've got our guest today, country singer Tooter B-Pop with his theories about this conference that is just four minutes away from go-time and the potential meaning of this conference to the rest of the world. Take it away, Mr. B-Pop," Mark Mellows pushed the microphone toward a short and slender, hairy and bare-chested hick chewing on some smack with a loosely hanging leather west and a massive cowboy hat covering up his greasy hair.
"Yep. It might be a grand number of things. An announcement of a brand-new Capsule Corps product. You better believe it, I'll be buyin' it. Don't even know or care what it is. I'm buyin' anyway. Ya also can't forget that Bulma is married to the actual King of Saiyans, an alien race that's been just doin' their best to cohabitate, so to speak. Not to mention, Capsule Corps hasn't kept it secret that they've been supportin' Mark Hercule in the King of the World election and that sort of didn't work out, because King became King of the World again, so they might be talkin' somethin' 'bout that too. Maybe they're hoppin' into bed with another candidate, honestly, the only way to know for sure is to wait two more minutes and just see and hear it for ourselves, I think. Yep…" Tooter B-Pop leaned to speak into the microphone only for the massive cowboy hat to nearly devour him whole, before being forced to flick it back. Feebly at first, but after the fourth time, he did it with enough gusto to nearly send the hat off his head, opening his smack-munching, rowdy, and rugged face.
"Heh, heh, heh… You shouldn't say that out loud, I don't think… Come on, we're just doing a little of small talk, a bit of banter to fill the time, you know…" Mark Mellows chuckled, pulling his tight shirt collar to widen it up and get some more air as if could cool his forehead that sprinkled with sweat. "Also, those are some very good guesses, I didn't expect a country singer to actually be a viable expert on the matter…"
"Yep…" Tooter B-Pop mumbled before turning his head back from the camera in reaction to some commotion in the back.
"W-Wait a second right now! I'm getting some news that Bulma, president of the Capsule Corps, is arriving at the West Channel News Tower as we speak! Why doesn't our news team cut to the correspondents watching the ground floor and the entryway to see if they can catch an early scoop from Bulma!?" Mark Mellows suggested with some aggressive winking and tapping of his foot to make the news team and the techies behind the scene absolutely do as he "suggested".
The image from the first floor was nowhere as clear as it was from the conference room on the 40th floor. It was staticky, and the camera was bent at a 45-degree angle because of all the pushing and shoving from the ravenous correspondents looking for their own pound of flesh. No matter how hard Bulma's security team worked, they couldn't hold the flood of the summoned press away and, even if they could, they were wary of the legal trouble of shoving a member of the 4th branch of the government with too much force.
"Shesh! What's wrong with you dolts!?" Bulma cried out, looking livid at the complete lack of progress in making her way to the conference room because of the flood of journalists in her way. "I'm going to tell you everything during the damn conference I called up, what are you getting all up in my face now for!? Yesh, I knew I should have asked Krillin to be on my detail…"
It was only when a cerulean beam with sparkly stardust effects engulfed Bulma and gently hovered her above ground with a look of restrained, moderate surprise the media backed way off, terrified of getting caught up in whatever hi-tech tomfoolery was going on. In a gentle and almost melodic swoop, Bulma's particles disassembled and fired in instantaneous speed toward the source of the beam, before the beam repeated from the core of the Big Gete Star and flashed the stage in the conference room. The dazzled press glared at the transportation beam with wide jaws and starry eyes.
When the grand light show trick subsided, in the center of the stage there were only Baby Vegeta and Bulma with the former holding his hand over Bulma's shoulder and back and showing off a confident smirk to the press.
"No need to get handsy, you parasite," Bulma hissed, restraining her voice so that only Baby Vegeta would hear her complaint.
"Apologies, Earthling, for this entire scheme of ours to work, both the press and the Saiyans must believe us to be King Vegeta and his Earthling wife," Baby Vegeta replied, gently moving his lips to Bulma's ear and breathing out warm puffs into it.
"I AM Vegeta's wife," Bulma's right eyelid twitched, but she stepped over herself and just waved to the bedazzled press, approaching the microphone on the central stand and finding an excuse to slip from Baby Vegeta's hands this way. "Welcome, everyone. I've called you up today because my husband, King Vegeta the IVth, the King of Saiyans, has a few words to address his people with."
"Amazing!" Mark Mellows turned to Tooter B-Pop, who only tucked the front of his cowboy hat over his eyes with a cool expression, having surmised this reason as one of his few potential theories about the sense of this press conference.
"Greetings, Earthlings," Baby Vegeta approached the stand to the right of his wife and leaned to speak into the microphone. "I had my wife employ the Earthling press because I need to address my people. Your king requires your service. Attend to me in the West City square an hour from now. No matter where on this lovely blue and green marble you have built your new life, your Saiyan battle power should make it possible to get there in time. Rest assured that I will not demand you to abandon your new Earthling families or the second life you've built here during the time of my inaction as a ruler. I will explain my command further during the meeting. That is all."
"W-Wait up now!" Mark Mellows and the other agents of the press jumped off their chairs before they could finish making themselves comfortable as this press conference barely lasted any time at all. Toying with her hair and looking a bit perplexed, Bulma observed Baby Vegeta step back from the stand and beam himself and her off the premises. "Wait up a second, just wait one second! What are we supposed to do exactly!? How are we supposed to fill the airtime now!? Umm… Think, Mark, think… You're a professional. That's right, Mr. B-Pop, what do you think the cause of this Saiyan gathering could be?"
"They are going to all get together. Yep…" Tooter B-Pop nodded without a shadow of a doubt.
Far to the east, to the west from the massive Paozu mountain range, Chi-Chi looked worked up over what she saw in the news, but she was tending to Goten so she restrained herself from making any sudden moves with remarkable self-control. Goku looked serious but didn't say or do much other than stare solemnly at the television screen.
"Wh… What does this mean? Why is Bulma-san standing around all palsy with that alien fellow who's brainwashed Vegeta?" Ox-King turned to Goku with the giant father-in-law occupying most of the sofa space. "Did this alien parasite get her again?"
"Who knows?" Goku wondered. "But I think I'd better take part in that big Saiyan get-together. Is it okay, Chi-Chi?"
"Yeah," Chi-Chi nodded with a worried expression. "Kick that body-snatcher's rear end and free Bulma's mind, Goku-sa! I'll take care of Goten, besides, technically, I'm not a Saiyan anyway."
"Heh…" Goku chuckled, standing up and approaching his wife. The Saiyan gently placed his hand on her shoulder with a cheerful grin that always made him look absolutely clueless, when in fact he was aware of more than it initially seemed. He then leaned and tickled Goten's belly, making the little rascal roll around his bed with ecstatic, tearful laughter. "I'm actually a bit relieved that I'm the one who's going to kick Baby out of Vegeta and not you. We don't want poor Vegeta to be trapped in a body of mincemeat, do we?"
"Stop teasing," Chi-Chi looked up at her husband. "If this Baby really is in Vegeta's body, do you think you can really knock him flat?"
"Who knows…?" Goku snickered before stretching out and tightening his belt. "Alright! I'm off, be seeing you, Ox-King, Chi-Chi, Goten!"
As commanded by their king, the Saiyans gathered, filling the West City square in no time flat and flooding the surrounding speedways with a crowd that left little place for human spectators. Given how Saiyans were notorious for their superhuman abilities and violent mentality that initially caused some tension between the two co-existing races, no Earthling press representatives were pushing their boundaries and getting too close, besides a handful of vans and helicopters scoping the situation from a respectable distance.
"This is unprecedented! A summit of all Saiyans gathered in one place!" a middle-aged woman in a fluffy and worn pink suit and curly, long blond hair spoke into the camera before moving slightly to the side to give the cameraman the chance to take some shots of the situation in the square. "I don't believe such a thing has ever happened in recorded history that an entire race would gather for a summit in one place like this. We await the conclusion of this summit in deep anticipation. If it feels like the fate of our planet is being decided over there, it may be because it absolutely is!"
"Hey, hey, missy, don't you think you're blowing all this a bit out of proportion?" the helicopter pilot wondered with a carefree tone. While he's never quite had to deal with a situation that required him to maintain his copter above a situation that could've resulted in his complete disintegration in a flash, the distance at which the journalists felt content with doing their jobs from made doing the pilot's job way easier than usual. "I mean, isn't basically every summit in existence an Earthling race summit?"
"Stay quiet, you…" the reported lady was about to scold the pilot before the latter grabbed the stick with both hands and began flailing around the cockpit. Something adamantine and incredibly fast blitzed right past the helicopter, threatening to take it down with a mere bump. The reporter screamed out and braced for impact, nearly slipping out through the open copter door but managing to stay inside because of the split-instant reactions of the film crew. "It appears that some Saiyan joined the others a bit late… Nearly crashed our chopper! Perhaps we should take it to a safer distance?"
"Now you want me to talk…" the pilot mumbled, overcoming the anxiety of the sudden blitz of the immovable Saiyan flying less than a meter away from the stabilized news helicopter. "To be entirely honest, there's not really a safe distance to be in from a Saiyan. Those guys can vaporize us with beams of light. Something like that could circle the entire world multiple times before a single second clocks in. You'd have to be on a different star system to be safe."
The Saiyan nearly sending the news helicopter into an uncontrollable swerve and causing it to crash was Bardock, snuffing out the vivid and clear energy aura around him and landing on the ground with a pound at the vintage stone tiles that were the pride of the city square. The descended Saiyan approached the front of the crowd with no hesitation or letting the momentous atmosphere of the occasion get to him.
"Huh? Dad?" Goku exclaimed, looking a bit taken aback to see his father here. "What are you doing here?"
"What does it look like? I will not let some Tsufurian poser parading in Vegeta's body take charge of the Saiyans. I don't really feel like ruling, but until there's a better alternative, I'm a more suitable king than some Tsufurian body-snatcher!" Bardock grumbled with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Whoa! Would that make me the prince of Saiyans? That's so weird…" Goku scratched his head. "Anyway, I came here to fight Vegeta and knock some sense back into him."
"Hmph, stand back, Kakarot," Bardock pressed his forearm to Goku's chest, applying a slight amount of force to his push. "It's not like I want to rule, either. I've come to enjoy a peaceful life and even if Launch can only tolerate me as her gentler self, having her around makes me feel like the good old days with Gine. It's only my luck that the moment I think I got my life back together, this shit would break out! I'm not happy about this and I'm going to give that asshole Tsufurian the receipt. I'm not afraid of writing one for you either. I've got decades of disciplining you to make up for anyway!"
"You know, here on Earth, we've got this game called "Rock-Paper-Scissors"," Goku pointed his index finger up.
"Plenty of cultures have a version, you fool," Bardock became sour. He knew exactly what his son was getting at since plenty of army folks used that game to determine who was to fight first during missions. Even the Ginyu Special Squadron were known to decide their fighting order by playing that game. Though Bardock didn't exactly have the best luck with it…
"Saiyans!" Baby Vegeta walked out in front of the crowd with Bulma standing farther in the back, looking visibly uncomfortable at being there. While her anxiety about being brought together with her husband was palpable, so was the irksome feeling that the artificial Tsufurian super-organism parading around as her husband would betray her when it suits him. "I'm glad to see so many of you gathered here and heeding my summons! It is true that as king I have been lax in my duties and let you settle down here on Earth, encouraged you to start families and live ordinary Earthling lives, find jobs and make yourselves useful. I still stand by that order, however, I have one additional request. This planet has magical wishing orbs, known as the Dragon Balls. There are seven of them, they are scattered around the entire Planet Earth and they look like orange marble spheres with red stars on them. When gathered together, they fulfill any two wishes that the person who gathered them desires. My order as king is that you bring them to me!"
"Wh-What the…!?" Bardock growled. "What's he up to!?"
"The Dragon Balls!?" Goku gasped.
Perhaps because he could hear the rumbling amongst the Saiyan people, Baby Vegeta raised his hands in front of him and signaled for the Saiyans to simmer down. Baby's face twisted with a delighted smirk, for he enjoyed having that sort of power before those that oppressed and exterminated his entire race in the past. Even if he ultimately has settled on giving them a shot at redemption, it didn't mean that he would have to favor them in any way, shape, or form.
"Most of you must be wondering, what exactly will I be using these Dragon Balls for? I will answer this question right now, my first wish will be to restore Planet Vegeta, but not as we used to know it. I will use them to restore how it was long before the Saiyan race met the Frieza Army and back when the Saiyans were mere cavemen thwacking dinosaurs with sticks and stones! That's right, back to the state of Planet Plant! As for the second wish, I will tell you when the Dragon Balls are in front of me, and let you decide if that is a worthy request or not," Baby Vegeta said to the crowd of baffled Saiyans, many of whom have already lost their fighting luster and grown round bellies from the state of peace and leading serene Earthling family lives.
"You won't get the luxury of negotiating your wishes with us nor are you in any position to make demands of us, poser king!" Bardock bellowed from the bottom of his lungs, making a wave of intimidated Saiyans move aside and reveal the boisterous rebel to Baby Vegeta.
"You would rebel against your own king, Bardock?" the smirk vanished from Baby Vegeta's face and his look sharpened with an intense focus that glared at the rebellious Saiyan with impressive cybernetic augmentations bolstering his stamina and overall toughness nearly to the standard of an Android as if attempting to impale him or stare a hole clean through his head. "That's some treacherous ideas and treason is punishable with death!"
"That's right, I'm rebelling, you little punk!" Bardock snickered, rolling his wristbands back and ripping the flannel shirt off his chest to reveal a cybernetically augmented body that looked almost like it was modeled after the Saiyan battle armor. "My fists are notorious for bringing about rebellions. My only regret is that I won't be getting a chance to cave the face of the actual impubescent little shit of a king himself, but a poser prancing around in his body will do nicely."
"Bardock-san!" Bulma walked out in front of Baby Vegeta with a vocal objection. "What are you doing? Stand down, you're ruining everything!"
"You should follow your own advice, Earthling woman," Baby Vegeta gently guided Bulma behind him with a sour expression. "This is fine. I was itching to prove myself to my loyal subjects who may not have seen me fight in a while. To remind them why I, King Vegeta the IVth, am the unquestionable monarch of the Saiyan race. Maybe when they see me cave the face of this rebellious trash in and stand in awe at the golden luster of my Super Saiyan form, they won't think twice about obeying the order of their king?"
"Bulma, I'm going to get you further away from here so that you're safe. But I need to know that you're not full of Baby parasites and won't infect me again," Goku clapped his hands and winced hard as a sign of his request for Bulma to show him a sign she was her own old self.
"Son-kun?" Bulma exclaimed in surprise.
"The Saiyan known as Kakarot?" Baby Vegeta's eyes widened in surprise upon seeing someone who lived rent-free in the mind of the body hosting Baby from so close. "It doesn't matter, I am King Vegeta, no matter how much rebellious filth stacks up against me, I'll crush all of it to bits and prove why I'm the undisputed ruler of all Saiyans!"
"Jeez, you sound almost exactly like Vegeta…" Goku rolled his eyes before snickering and stroking the back of his head while his other hand gently grabbed Bulma by the armpit, ready to take off from the site of a heated battle. "Anyway, I won't be your opponent right now. It'll be my dad. I'd really like to take a crack at you myself, but I don't really think you'll have the chance. The way you are now, my dad's going to trounce you."
"What's that!?" Baby Vegeta hissed. "I'll have you know, I'm King Vegeta! And I rule my people by the right given to me by the legendary and awe-inspiring power of not only Super Saiyan but the royal Super Saiyan 2 as well!"
"I know, right?" Goku shook his head in regret. "It might have been really fun to take a shot at Vegeta with all the upgrades you've stuffed his body with. I've trained long and hard to come up with something that compares with Super Saiyan 2 and now I won't get my chance to test it. Anyway, you're not a real Saiyan, so I guess you won't find fighting my dad all that fun. If you're scared, you should just jump out of that body and take a hike already, spare yourself the beating. Take care."
"W-Wait, Kakarot!" Baby Vegeta hissed, but Goku took off and dragged Bulma with him. His outrage left Baby wide open for a soaring strike that dug straight into Baby Vegeta's jaw and flattened him over the stage. The concussive force created a destructive bubble of an invisible force that expanded outward in all directions and scattered the surrounding Saiyans like bowling pins while flattening the square for the upcoming bout that would determine the future of the Saiyan race and, possibly, that of Earth's too.