Disclaimer: The following is a completely profitable endeavour based on real life events, facts and people. It is possible that Dragon Ball, Dragon Ball Z and Dragon Ball GT are all owned by Funimation, Toei Animation, Fuji T.V. and Akira Toriyama. Support the official release or else.

Claimer: Bringer of Death™ is a licensed television series and owned by Berryhill Corporations and Starlingm Industries. All jokes are licensed by Infinity Gohan Incorporated.

(Bringer of Death™ is parodied in front of a live studio audience)

Chapter 5

But Will He Call?

The attack ball blasted through space at lightspeed, a screeching sound in its wake. It was curious, considering that sound requires a medium in order to travel—one which space distinctly lacks.

He was nearly there. Lazily opening his eyes, the prince could finally see Frieza Planet 79 growing in size as he approached. He had specifically chosen this planet out of all of the bases left in Frieza's empire. Several factors had contributed to this, including its large garrison of troops, its top of the line specs for intergalactic communication, and what was said to be a legendary assortment of Butter Fingers.

'Can't believe I had to take this pod from that disgusting Cui,' the prince muttered. 'It's all cramped, stuffy and…and—what the heck is that smell? It's so…asexual.' Finally, the pod's signal was picked up by the station down below, the base's systems automatically bringing his vessel in for a proper landing. 'Then again, it could be Frieza's rotting head,' he mused. 'Nah, it's definitely Cui.'

But the lieutenant monitoring the base's sensor array ignored the alert signaling the incoming vessel. It was only after the alarm persisted into annoyance that he finally huffed and shut off his HBO GO Tablet—the most recent episode of Game of Space Thrones had him absolutely glued to his screen. With an frustrated exhale, the soldier rolled his chair over to the sensor station. "Can't believe they killed Rob!" he complained angrily. But as soon as he saw the information his new readout displayed, his eyes widened and he jumped to his feet.

"Commander Malaka, come quickly! Sir, incoming vessel, attack pod class!" the soldier called out. Hurriedly, the humanoid dinosaur doctor entered the room to see what all the trouble was about.

"Yes, yes...what is it? Oh wait, let me guess...Raditz miraculously survived his skirmish on Earth and has been training all this time, and now he's come back here to get his revenge on Frieza?"

"HAHA! Excellent jest, sir. Hilarious!" the lieutenant laughed, always making sure to show appreciation for his superior's jokes.

"Quit your laughing, soldier. You look like a bumbling fool, and it wasn't even that funny."

"Oh, right! Yes, sir!"

"Now, make it quick. What's this all about? I have an appointment in five minutes at the hair salo—eh...I mean...firing range." The trooper stoically and silently paused to allow the awkward moment the fullness of silence it deserved. "What?" Malaka said, shrugging. "It's—um, special training...if you want to get to use the really good weapons!"

"Right. Anyway, sir, I've picked up a signal from an attack pod. It's on course to land in only a few moments. There's just one thing. The pod is registered to Cui, but internal bio-scans of the vessel reveal the only passenger to be Prince Vegeta. Most curious, don't you think?"

"Hold on a second! We can scan the inside of ships from this distance?" the doctor asked, both intrigued and shocked. Had they managed to scan what he was doing in his pod the week prior?

"I know, right? We just had it installed today." Malaka gave a small sigh of relief before the soldier continued. "Uhm...wait a moment, sir! There's something else, a malfunction perhaps. The scanner...it seems to have located traces of...of Lord Frieza himself! He could be on the ship, sir!"

"What?" Malaka interrupted. "Let me see that! Hmm..." he said, looking over the scan. "The air composition within the ship is most interesting as well. It seems to be a mixture of asexual feramones and the rotting decay of a brain."

The dinosaur put his hand to his chin in thought. "Hmm…let's see here: there are two men, together, alone, in a very cramped space...and once, a university colleague of mine mentioned to me that Arcosians give off the stench similar to that of a rotting brain when they are making lo—" Malaka paused suddenly as he realized the problem. If he sent a squad to greet the pod and the squad saw something, everyone would instantly die. Then again, if he didn't send a squad to greet them, it would show disrespect and…well, everyone would also die.

"Soldier," Malaka barked. The alien stood up with a salute. "I want you to send a greeting squad to that pod's landing bay. They should buy me enough time to—I mean, that should show some proper diligence and respect toward Lord Frieza." Meanwhile, Malaka was forming an escape plan for when things would assuredly went south.

Vegeta's pod landed with a thunderous crash on the cushioned landing pad. The prince smirked as he inserted a disc into the pod's computer and selected Track 12 from his John Williams: Best of Space Wars collection, musing that spectators (and anyone else who happened to be witnessing this in any way, including reading an account of it) would be be put in the proper frame of mind by the Imperial March.

The pod's speakers activated as a group of soldiers lined up on both sides of the ship, waiting for Prince Vegeta and Lord Frieza to both exit. And exit they did, as smoke poured out of the small vessel and the prince pulled himself out with one hand, slowly revealing his ominous form. The Saiyan stepped forward slowly, stopping for a few seconds as he activated the pod's alarm with his remote, the ship giving off two small beeps.

Seeing only Vegeta exit, and no deaths as of yet, Malaka emerged from the shadows hesitantly before hurrying to be the first to greet Vegeta among the soldiers stationed there. "Welcome back, Prince Vegeta! I swear it's been a nightmare around here trying to make contact with Frieza and our forces on Name-eck," the doctor said, butchering the proper pronunciation.

The prince merely smirked. "Well you see, it is rather hard to answer calls when your vocal chords and your mouth have been violently severed from one another…isn't that right, Frieza?" Vegeta lifted the tyrant's lifeless head to show the soldiers, grinning broadly. All gasped at how contorted the face was, as though the last thing Lord Frieza had seen was five hours straight of The Annoying Space Orange.

A lone soldier raised his weapon slowly, his hand quivering. 'I hope Prince Vegeta knows that on my planet, it's a custom to show respect to our new leaders by raising our weapo—' The trooper was suddenly turned to dust faster than the effects of a Solar Flare.

"Clean-up, Aisle 9," the prince calmly said, the corners of his mouth turned upwards in a smirk. "Now then... Anyone else want to challenge me?" The group remained silent, visibly trembling. One of them even appeared to wet himself. "Hnph. I've seen more backbone in premature infants than you lot. That you pathetic scum are called guards is a joke," Vegeta mocked, turning his eyes to the side. He wouldn't even look directly at these idiots. "Now then, Malaka. I'll be needing some things immediately. As I'm sure you've deduced...I slaughtered Frieza like a pig. I'm pretty sure that makes me the new head honcho around this joint, so bitches need to get moving to shine this place up."

"My Lord, Vegeta. Of course, whatever you say. Anything you ask we will gladly do," Malaka bowed, fearing for his life.

The prince rolled his eyes, mentally making a list of things he had always wanted. "First, I'll be needing a new set of royal armor. This old set shall be framed. Hehe," he smiled. "I might even autograph it in Frieza's blood and sell it on Space eBay."

"Most wise, your grace," the doctor added.

"Pah. You suck up well, Malaka. Keep that up and you'll go far. Now, after the armor we're on to more immediate needs. Get me a three-foot hoagie from Space Subway, then I want all the technicians on this station assembled in the meeting room. Each one needs to bring a copy of How to parody Star Wars and a punching bag that looks exactly like this." Malaka suddenly found an autographed picture of Krillin shoved in his face (the signature being none other than Krillin's itself).

The Saiyan kept walking on ahead of Malaka before he halted in thought. "Oh and while you're at it, find a use for this." Frieza's mangled head was suddenly cast over Vegeta's shoulder and landed in Malaka's hands.

"Yes, Lord, of course. May I ask, did you have anything special in mind?"

In response the prince merely shrugged. "I-dunno," he shrugged. "Coffee grinder, tea mug, hood ornament. Surprise me."

And that was the day Dr. Malaka began to regret his career choice.

Meanwhile, on the noisy ship heading towards Earth, a small thought was brewing in Bulma's mind.

"Hey, guys, do you think Vegeta will, ya' know...call me?" The ship was suddenly silent. A piece of chicken hung out of Krillin's mouth, saliva dripping to the floor of the ship. Gohan froze, looking up from his escape plans, which he had been planning in order to escape from his mother and the inevitable homework that had piled up while he was away. Piccolo stopped as well, pausing his connection to iCloud—which was a very significant action, considering he was listening to his personal collection of The Best of Celine Dion.

"What?" Bulma asked, feigning anger. "It's a legitimate question. I mean, we shared a spark. I could feel it."

"You're joking. Right, Bulma?" the short monk asked hopefully.

"Well, why would I? He seems like a decent guy," she retorted, oblivious to how insane this was. 'And have you seen that body?' she thought, biting her lip seductively, rolling her eyes in the back of her head. 'I mean, damn!'

"He literally slaughtered entire planets full of people, not to mention an entire village of my brothers," snapped Piccolo. "Even when he was helping us beat Frieza, he only wanted immortality so he could take over the universe in Frieza's place. He'll probably be even worse than that tyrant!"

"And he's tried to kill each of us at least three times," Gohan added with gusto.

"All this combined...no, Bulma. I do not think he will call. Nor should he," Krillin said, hoping to settle the matter.

"Ah, come on. Let her dream," Nail suddenly interrupted. "I think they'd make a cute couple."

"Shut up, Nail!" Piccolo commanded, angered more than usual at his 'guest'. But Bulma ignored the comments and continued.

"So he's a little rough around the edges. You guys just don't see the potential for good in him. In fact, I'm going to track his pod right now so I can—" The debacle finally ended with a karate chop to the neck, courtesy of Piccolo.

"Why do I have a feeling I'm going to be blamed for that?" the always-morbid Krillin moaned. The Krillin Owned Count incremented by one yet again, the small ding ringing in the back of the bald monk's mind.

Goku awoke with a large yawn on the grasslands of Namek. Instead of checking to see whether the others had left yet, he'd done the smart thing and decided to take a well deserved two-day-long nap.

"Nothing like a little shut-eye right after the battle of your life," the Saiyan said, stretching his limbs. "Hmm…well, I guess I better find a way off Namek so I can train to beat Vegeta. But where to start? Oh, I know! Can't have training on an empty stomach! I wonder if the nearest village has any food..." And thus Goku flew towards the Namekian central village, whistling Jingle Bells all along the way.

When Goku finally neared the village, however, he found the Namekians screaming in utter agony, clutching their ears and hiding their children from the cacophony. When the Saiyan landed, he finally ceased his whistling, much to the joy of the Namekians.

"What's wrong? Is Freezer back again? Gosh darn it, he's harder to get rid of than a fly at a barbeque! Mmm…barbeque." The warrior's salivating ended as Moori clutched onto him with grateful tears in his eyes.

"Are you the one who dealt with the source of that horrid sound, the sound resembling something from the bowels of Hades? Yes, you must be! Thank you, sir! We are eternally grateful! May I ask, what is our savior's name, and as a reward would he like some trees?" the elder questioned, not being able to think of anything substantively better than trees.

"Ah…sure. I stopped the sound, I guess. My name is Goku and I'm a Saiyaman, but I was raised on Earth!"

"I think you mean Saiyan, my friend."

"Eh," Goku shrugged. "Potato tomato, tomato radish. Mm, radishes. And carrots! And cabbages and vegetables of all kinds...do you guys have some stew cooking?"

"Uh...yes, Goku. It's definitely you, then. King Kai already contacted us with the details of reviving your friends." In realization, the oaf slapped his forehead and smiled.

"Of course. I almost forgot we came to Namek for a reason!" Goku said. "And that reminds me...I also came to your village for a reason too…what was it, though?" the Saiyan remained stumped for a few moments as his brain collected the information. "Oh yeah! Is there a ship or something I can take to get off Namek?"

Moori scratched his chin in contemplation and turned away. "Hmm…well, the last ship we had was made to fit up to twenty Namekians and designed for the sole purpose of saving the strongest of our species—ensuring the survival of our race when the cataclysm occurred many years ago—but it was stolen by that punk kid of Katas a few hundred years ago. I suppose you could try our Guru for guidance, but I advise against it."


"Well, it all started about thirty years ago when our planet suffered a horrible—"

"Bored now. Gonna go talk to Guru. Bye!" the Saiyan said shortly, taking off into the sky in a streak of white energy.

"Wait!" Moori called after him. "Don't you want your trees!?"

Vegeta, with his new blinged-out golden armour—which included a gold scouter, a golden cape, golden boots, and a pair of golden undergarments which were both air-conditioned and extra snug—walked into the room filled with scientists and engineers. Each were working their hardest on preparing designs for Vegeta's new ship, a few quickly dashing through their guides to study up. The prince sat down swiftly in his chair at the head of the lengthy, MAHOGANY table.

"All right let's get this over with. I have a dozen planets to pillage and destroy, a few trillion innocent children to burn alive, an Arcosian parade to rain on, and a buttload of birthday cake to—" The Saiyan's speech suddenly halted as he noticed one of the hologram displays showing an array of ships almost exactly like Frieza's. "What in Space Hell is that?! Why would I want to use one of Frieza's ships? It looks like a suppository."

A foolish, small scientist tried to explain their reasoning for displaying the unsightly option. "Well, sir, although it may not look appealing, its shape allows for easy landings and maximizing space for troops and storage as well as various rooms, engines and—"

Vegeta swiftly cut off the imp with his own argument. "Aaaaand—I don't give a rat's crusty dried asshole. I want sleek, I want red carpet, I want streamlined." Vegeta looked around, seeing the puzzled scientists. If they didn't want to die they had better get this right. But he realized they didn't have much to go on; if he wanted something that looked less like a pastry, he might have to explain himself. "Ya know, so it'll go faster and look awesome and stuff." The scientists remained silent for a few moments.

"Well, you see, Lord Vegeta, streamlining is based on allowing air to move around the vehicle. In space, there is no air so—"

"Would this please my lord?" a female voice said. The holographic image changed to a black and gold streamlined spaceship that basically screamed awesome.

"Woah! That's totally boss!" Vegeta yelled, putting his hand on the table as he got a closer look. "This is totally the best thing I have ever—I mean…*ahem*." The prince made his way back to his seat quickly and sat down flustered. "Most impressive...miss?"

The chair swiveled around and Vegeta expected to see some obese, elderly female. Instead he found the body of a young, grey-skinned, horned alien with spidery fingers. The prince's heart rate increased dramatically and a loud thump could be heard from under his end of the table. Vegeta swiftly put one leg over the other shortly after.

"I am your humble servant Oniya, my lord. It is my sincere gratitude to meet the great Lord Vege—"

"Are you female?" the prince quickly asked, not wanting to have the Dodoria Incident repeated.

"Ye—yes," the scientist responded, slightly offended. She wasn't that flat-chested...right?

"Good, because you're the new captain."

"What?! But why!?" Though Oniya would've liked a better position and rank, suicide missions weren't exactly what she had planned. They kind of tended to mess with her schedule if things went badly.

"Because you're the hottest—I mean most capable pilot within five hundred parsecs of here. And believe me, I know. I travel a lot."

"Well, what about the squad of other highly trained pilots we have here? Their training regimen includes practicing daily with the controls of every design of ship ever constructed, not to mention they are trained this way from birth," the female asked haughtily, folding her arms. If she was going to be stuck with the Saiyan she would at least like to know how much she could get away with.

"They died." Vegeta answered plainly.

"Oh? When exactly?"

"Bout' five minutes from now," the prince quickly replied, smirking. "All right, on to business, slackers. Here's a list of things I want done to the ship, and I want it all done within the week." The prince promptly threw a piece of paper at a more lizard-like scientist, who then read it out loud.

"A gravity chamber, a pool, a dance club, a sunken living room, an open-plan dining room, hot tub, fireplace, fishing pond, a subscription to Space Netflix, a large outside garden and a power source with enough juice to make it look like it's taking steroids." The engineers sweated as they read the plans. "Sir, you do realize that most of this will impede performance by 98%?"

The Saiyan shrugged as he raised his coffee to his lips. "Who has two thumbs and doesn't care? This—PTEW!" Vegeta suddenly spat out his coffee. He immediately held up the cup, finding it to be the bottom of Frieza's hollowed out head. "MALAKA!" The doctor stuck his head through the doorway in reply. "Cross coffee grinder and coffee cup off the list. What does that leave us with?"

"Well, sir, it appears we only have hood ornament now." the creature informed his master, who smiled sadistically.

"Yup. Everything is coming up, Vegeta." And thus the Saiyan took an even larger gulp of the coffee, his eyes bulging open as he once again spat it out. "Hot! Hot! Hot!"

This hut was far larger than all the others Goku had seen on Namek, not to mention far grander. Its main identifying characteristic was the fact that it sat upon a tall mound of rock about a hundred feet high. This was either Guru's Palace...or somebody had decided the tower of dirt needed a hat.

"Hello! Anyone in here?" the Saiyan's voice echoed as entered the large space. He instantly saw the gigantic Namek, easily twenty feet in height and weighing—

"None of that," the deep voice interrupted, causing the narrator to pause.


"Uh…who are you talking to? Is it a ghost? Can I fight him?!" the oblivious Saiyan inquired with excitement.

"It's none of your concern, young one. I take it you are the new Nailllll! Sorry, force of habit. Anyway, I never knew that article in the paper would work so welllll!"

"Um, sorry sir, but I don't think that your planet has a newspaper business," Goku informed the elderly Namekian, who remained quiet for a few moments.

"New Nail, gather the Dragon Balls and wish for a newspaper system," Guru commanded swiftly.

"Actually, uh, I'm not here for that. I was just looking for a way off Namek."

"Ha! Sucks for you. Only way off here is with a ship, and we don't have any of those. But while you're here, let me raise your power."

"Uh, ok I guess. But...why?" the confused Saiyan inquired as he stepped forward. Guru gently placed his hand upon the Saiyan's head.

"I sense a great well of energy deep within you—a pure energy, untouched by evil and hate—one that could one day save this universe from monsters even greater in power than Frieza. Plus, I reeaallly like to mess with the natural order of things. Why do you think I made the Dragon Balls in the first place?!" And thus Goku's power was raised three-fold in an instant, a small barrier of energy appearing around him as his ki increased exponentially.

"Woah! I feel super strong! I bet I could take on Freezer now! I could probably take out that whole Gangnam Force out by just blinking!" The Saiyan's brain whirred to life as it began to start a laborious thinking process. "Wait a second, I bet their ships are still here!" The warrior turned around with a smile as he headed out. "Thanks for the boost and all, but I gotta run!"

"Halt, young one!" the great Namek called, stopping Goku in his tracks. "I have searched your mind and found you to be pure, therefore I find you are worthy to know that your life's one true desire is here, now, on Namek." The Saiyan's features became taught as he felt butterflies in his stomach.

"You don't mean…" Goku asked, almost out of breath.

"Yes. Search Frieza's ship and you shall know it to be true." For a few moments, Goku merely stood there, not believing that it could be true. The room was quiet until he looked Guru dead in the closed eyes, saying two simple words.

"Thank you." And, like that, the Saiyan was gone.

With all the speed he could muster, the warrior blasted off, his new speed causing the ocean to stand in hundred-foot walls to his right and left. Frieza's suppository-shaped ship soon became visible, the same hole he had used as an exit earlier his decided destination. Landing inside, the warrior hurried through the ship, looking desperately for the ship's control center and mumbling to himself. "Come on. Come on! COME ON! There it is!"

The doors were blasted apart like fire through tissue as Goku ran forward, seeing the large, rectangular button clearly on the console. His hopes high, the Saiyan's muscles tensed as he stared at a single button that could change his life forever. Thus it was pushed. It was quiet at first, but a whirring sound began, followed by the pad in front of it beginning to glow yellow. Something was happening! Small sparks of electricity flashed around a still non-existent object...and then... it happened. The single happiest moment of Son Goku's life: He had found the Muffin Button!

Vegeta walked the halls with confidence as he neared the meeting hall. This was the moment he had been waiting for. It had taken nearly two decades and A LOT of bodies, but now he was ready to assume command of the galaxy. The automatic doors opened silently and Vegeta walked onto the set of The Phantom Menace, surrounded by dignitaries, delegates, leaders and the few remaining dirty, little, money–grubbing Clawfours.

Vegeta's platform lowered to the center of the room as all eyes were on him. The cameras from television networks around the galaxy zoomed in onto the Saiyan. All held their breath, waiting as Vegeta was about to give the most important speech in galactic history (one certain to be lengthy and with the most choice words to handle the sensitive situation).

"Ahem," he began, clearing his throat. "I'm in charge now. Deal with it. If you don't like it then suck my giant, Super Saiyan—" the prince halted his epic speech as he heard a slow clap. Turning his attention the source of the news, he found Cooler's hologram rising up to meet him.

"Well done, Vegeta. Tell me, did you 'defeat' my whiny, little brother when he had an aneurism from all the screaming or did you get him to choke on your hair?" the Acrosian asked in the comfort of his lounge chair from Space Ikea.

Vegeta crossed his arms with a smile. "My, my. If it isn't the most forgettable filler character in all of DBZ. What's wrong, Cooler? You look a little down. Maybe you should go run to Daddy and complain? You're wasting your time with me." The auditorium was filled with the gasps and "Oh!"'s from the delegates.

"Woah...low blow, Vegeta. But out of curiosity, how did you beat Frieza?" Cooler asked. In spite of the situation, he seemed unaffected. However, he was secretly choking a servant off-screen to control his anger.

'Hmm,' Vegeta thought as his face twisting with satisfaction. 'Should I tell them the truth? They'll find out eventually, but I'd much rather toy with them all a moment longer,' the prince thought as a plan formed in his mind. "Well you see, Cooler, after barely surviving combat with some of the fiercest warriors I have ever seen, I made my way to Namek. There, I easily dealt with a former rival and Frieza's right-hand men...and women, if you include Dodoria. Unfortunately, from there I was forced to join up with a rag-tag group of former enemies. But it was still a kick-ass group. The team was made up of a brilliantly wise monk, a child prodigy half-Saiyan, and lastly the greatest and most powerful warrior in the universe...being myself of course. We called ourselves—umm…TTS! It stood for Totalitarian Terrorist Squad...yeah. We slaughtered the Ginyu Force without breaking a sweat, and even after our White Mage was killed and all hope seemed lost, I remained courageous. Soon afterwards, I...Vegeta, the Prince of All Saiyans, became the Legendary Super Saiyan! Even Frieza himself was no match for me, as you all can see from the fact that I ripped his head right from his shoulders. Throughout my adventures I came face to face with death numerous times...and always gave it the middle finger." The Prince then turned to the camera. "The published manuscript is now available for purchase for $20.99. It's called The New Super Saiyan...Vegeta: A Harrowing Journey."

The room lit up with applause, regents and lord standing to their feet to applaud their new Lord after his gallant heroism in defeating the tyrant. One among them, however, remained seated, grinning slightly as he shut his eyes.

"Well...an interesting tale, Vegeta," Cooler said, pushing the advertisements off screen. "But it seems you attempted to seize control over the galaxy, whereas true power can only be given as a birthright. We should really 'discuss' the details of your takeover, so as to avoid any unnecessary confusion," the Frost Demon said with a wry smile. But the prince was never for a second in doubt about what Cooler had in mind—what his foe intended as a trap, he would use to his own advantage.

"Oh yes, our 'meeting' is of great importance," the Saiyan said with a wink.

"Well, I for one am looking forward to our 'conversation'," Cooler replied, returning the wink.

"Yes it should be an interesting 'talk'."

The two looked at each other menacingly for a few moments before bursting out into laughter, each convinced the other was oblivious to their scheming. The laughter slowly calmed down, dying into amused chuckles as the rest of the empire watched on. Eventually, the scene was quiet once more—just the two titans staring at one another, arms folded.

"I don't get it!" a random voice said from within the masses.

"So then, shall we meet on, say...a small moon somewhere in my territory?" Cooler offered.

"Sure. Send my lackeys the coordinates. As soon as my new starship is completed, its christening voyage will be to greet you...friend."

"Excellent. So…see you in a few weeks?" Cooler asked awkwardly, eager to push the 'End Call' button.

"Oh yes," Vegeta replied, nearly able to taste his foe's blood already. "Oh and before I forget. I've always wanted to say this to you, Cooler. You're a real pri-" the screen suddenly cut to black from King Cold turning off his feed. The giant sat in his throne, brooding as he twirled a glass of wine in his hand.

"That arrogant little...Saiyan!" the king spat. "How dare he murder my precious baby boy! I'll never see him play Little Pink Princess again. And yet if this Super Saiyan nonsense contains some element of truth, Vegeta could pose us an actual threat. In which case," The Acrosian stood up from his seat, his face twisted in anger and his grip on his glass tightening. "When everything Vegeta holds dear is in ashes, only then will he die!" The glass in Cold's hand shattered. "Ow, ow ow ow! My strangling hand!"

Meanwhile, at an undisclosed location…

The set was large and resembled an expensive penthouse with a view of the outside city skyline. The camera showed two red seats available, the audience packed to the brim, and zoomed in on a cup with the picture of the host himself. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to The Nappa Show! And here's your host, the one, the only...Nappa!" The audience went wild as the camera panned over to Nappa in a white tuxedo with a pink tie and black shoes.

"What did the buffalo say to his son when he went off to college?... Bison!" The audience erupted into laughter and clapped once more. "Thank you, thank you. Now then, onto today's questions."

"Q: You're a natural blonde?! Prepare for the biggest fight of the century; Nappa vs. Chilled! Get your leotard ready, Nappa!

A: "No need. I always have my leotard ready!" The brute suddenly ripped his shirt open, revealing his green leotard, resulting in another round of applause and several whistles of approval. "Now then, next question."

Q: By the way, who's Skar? I can't find those stories.

A: "Well, Skar, or Scar-Faced Bandit, is the Dragon Ball Multiverse's resident comedian. He does several parodies and even has his own website. I highly recommend his baking as well!"

Q: Nappa, y u no leave Vegeta alone?

A: "Well, I am legally obligated by The Planet Trade Organization to be within five miles of Vegeta at least every ten minutes. It's written in a legally binding contract, so even if I wanted to, I couldn't. Also, why wouldn't I? We're the bestest of friends!" The crowd erupted in a plethora of awes.

"Q: Thanks for giving an update on Raditz. I guess he's calmed down a bit making a horrible mess of the Blood Fountain. How are Snuggle, Fufu, Cabbage-head, Other Cabbage-head, and Vegeta Jr. fairing? Are they maybe helping make a salad for King Yemma's BBQ?

A: "Good theory, but no! Who do you think runs this show?" Various cameras began to show the Saibamen around the set as the audience applauded with Snuggle and Fufu on sound, Cabbage-Head on security, Other Cabbage-Head backstage, directing and Vegeta Jr. on camera.

Q: Did you have any role in the jock-strap incident?

A: "Sorry, another legally binding contract. Can't say a thing." The host suddenly leaned in close to the camera and whispered, "But yes."

"Q: Has King Vegeta confronted you about you telling him to sit down and have a word with Frieza?

A: "Well, like I said, Frieza would have had to been aawwfully evil to say no, and I haven't seen King Vegeta, so I think it went pretty well!"

"Well folks, that's pretty much all we have time for today! Goodbye, and always remember: I can fly."