Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ He Means Business ❯ 13 ( Chapter 13 )

NOTE: This is the last chapter. I hope you guys enjoyed this story! Please let me know what you thought!

Next I will be working on the sequel to "Anaugust Gold." But if you are uninterested in that, worry not, for I will also be doing one-shots and drabbles and such at the same time. Likely I will do another humor story after I finish the sequel. ^^

 

 

...

 

"We're fucked," Raditsu threw his jacket onto the table as he strode into the room. "Plain and simple! Why'd you do that?"

 

"What?" Bulma blinked, leaning back and sipping her coffee.

 

"If there's one thing I've learned how to read in the time I've been here," he snorted, "it's numbers. And I saw how much you paid your kid last week to bring us junk that didn't even work out anyway."

 

"Yeah, well," she sighed, kicking a chair out across from her to suggest that he take a seat, "it was fun while it lasted."

 

"So you weren't kidding, what you said earlier on the—" he made a motion with his hand.

 

"Telephone," Bulma filled in.

 

"What you said earlier on the telephone—you're done?" he sat down, leaning across the table.

 

"For now," Bulma shrugged. "Wait 'til Son and Vegeta try competing with me in my actual market, though. They don't even know how to make the Hoi-Poi Capsules, let alone something that could be better or cheaper than they are in any way."

 

"The what?"

 

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Anyway, you're right—I've wasted too much money on this for now."

 

"I tried to stop you."

 

"I know."

 

The weeks had passed quickly in the constant rush to outdo Goku and Vegeta. Bulma's initial excitement to expand into a new area to compete with them gradually waned: although their brainstorming sessions with Raditsu were often exhilarating and frequently lead to good ideas, she found Goku and Vegeta putting her plan into action days or hours before she and Raditsu could, and constantly losing their ideas grew tiring. In return, they would do what they could with Goku and Vegeta's ideas, brought to her by Trunks—but they never seemed to work as well for her as hers did for them. She wondered, briefly, whether Trunks might have been censoring the information before giving it to her, or holding something back. It was possible, but there was no way to know.

 

"It seems like your son was always on Vegeta and Kakarrot's side," Raditsu finally spoke after an extensive pause.

 

She sighed. "Yeah. Probably because he knows they could beat him up if they got too unhappy with him."

 

"Wonder what they did with all that money."

 

"Probably Son and Vegeta took it from them."

 

"Probably."

 

 

...

 

 

"Well, dammit, Kakarrot," Vegeta huffed, pacing. "We've been destroyed."

 

"We...we have?" Goku spoke through crumbs. "The restaurant was still there when I left ten minutes ago..."

 

"You know what I mean," the prince growled. Goku blinked, and, sighing, Vegeta continued, "I mean financially. We're destroyed. We can't compete anymore."

 

"We...we lost?"

 

"I can't see a way to salvage it."

 

Goku shrugged. "Well, I guess Bulma is a lot better at this stuff than you an' me, Vegeta."

 

"You're going to give up? Like that?"

 

"Sure," Goku smiled. "I had fun, getting free food and stuff, but I like sparring you better than selling stuff with you."

 

"I do miss sparring," Vegeta bit his lip.

 

"Yeah." In the beginning weeks, they had had more time, and sometimes fought for a while after turning in for the day. But Goku had noticed Vegeta spending ever more time on plotting things out, drawing pictures, scribbling notes—bargaining with Trunks, stealing Bulma's plans. Bulma's ideas were always great, but Goku noticed that they never worked for long. He wasn't sure if Vegeta just didn't know how to make them work, or if they really weren't good ideas. Vegeta swore that Trunks held the key information back from them, and that had been the cause of all the problems, but since there was no way to prove it for sure, Goku knew it wouldn't be fair to treat Trunks badly. He often held Vegeta back during verbal sparring matches with their sons. It had almost come to a fight, once—Trunks and Goten were going to fuse. Goku had been hoping they wouldn't, because he wasn't sure what he'd do if they did—would he be able to say no if Vegeta asked to fuse with him to take Gotenks on, because he knew that Trunks and Goten were only asking for fair payment? He wasn't sure. He'd been wanting to try the fusion dance for real for the longest time, and he knew that it would be the most fun with Vegeta. If only Vegeta wasn't so stubborn...we could work together better. "You know, Trunks and Goten are a really good team."

 

"I guess," Vegeta admitted. "They sure tricked us. Damn, to think they were on Bulma's side the whole time. I should have guessed it."

 

"Yeah?"

 

"I mean, Bulma is Trunks' mother, and she—well—you know—"

 

Goku nodded. "We gave them money to take those ideas from Bulma...but...I tried to say something like maybe we shouldn't, but you never wanted to listen," he mumbled. "It was a lot of money, wasn't it?"

 

"'A lot'?" Vegeta raised his eyebrows. "That's an understatement. They almost singlehandedly ran us into the ground, probably went so far as to give all that money to Bulma and Raditsu, even." He sighed. "I was so sure one of Bulma's ideas would pull through for us, though, and get us back into business—so to speak."

 

"Yeah," Goku shrugged. "Well, maybe Bulma sometimes has bad ideas, too."

 

"Maybe," he sighed. "Unless our sons sabotaged them."

 

"That would be mean," Goku frowned. "I don't think Goten would do something like that!"

 

"With Trunks leading him," Vegeta smirked a little, "he might."

 

"Now I get what Chi always says about your and his bad influence," Goku smirked a little. "Say, I haven't seen those guys in a while. I wonder what they're up to?"

 

"Beats me."

 

 

...

 

 

"Say," Bardock leaned against a rock formation, "King."

 

"Yes?"

 

"You know how Nappa is irritating as hell?"

 

"Well, as he is a part of Hell, it's frankly a matter of—"

 

"Shut up. So I was thinking."

 

"God forbid."

 

"So I was thinking, why is it that he's irritating as hell?"

 

King Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Did you and I meet the same Nappa?"

 

"Shut up."

 

"Stop asking me questions then."

 

"Dammit, no, that's not what mean. So if he's irritating as hell because, say, he talks all the time—"

 

"Yes..."

 

"Following people around—"

 

"Yes..."

 

"Because they won't listen to him—"

 

"Yes. Wait. No. No. No."

 

"King, my boy—" Bardock clapped his hand against the king's shoulder.

 

"Really, I'm older than you—and boy is inaccurate at best—and watch with the close contact; my guards might interpret it as a death—"

 

"King, I think we know what we have to do."

 

"I think we've been over this—"

 

"This is Hell."

 

"Yes, of course—"

 

"It's time we experienced it."

 

"You don't mean—"

 

"Nappa!" Bardock shouted to a distant speck. "Yo! Buddy! The king and I are over here! Yes, I know we look like unnaturally large tufts of grass, but it's us!"

 

A manly squeal echoed from across the canyon.

 

"You know," King Vegeta spoke through clenched teeth, "I hate you. So much."

 

Bardock threw an arm around his shoulder. "And that, King, is the way it's supposed to be."

 

 

...

 

 

"The scouter says they're over there," Bulma pointed.

 

"Why don't I get to use it?" Raditsu pouted.

 

"Think," Bulma rapped against his noggin as she climbed onto his back—perhaps surprising him a bit, as he jumped at the extra weight. "I can read it. Which means..."

 

"I can't," he mumbled. "Sure, sure."

 

"So, let's go!"

 

"Don't you have aircraft for this?" he motioned to her legs, wrapped around his torso as she struggled to cling onto his still-vertical form.

 

"Oh, you're probably faster, though," she winked. "Besides, Vegeta never lets me do this."

 

He smirked a little. "So, which way was that, again?"

 

 

...

 

 

"Over there!" Goku grinned. "Grab on, Vegeta; I'll just use my instantaneous movement to get us there."

 

"Fine," he grumbled, laying his hand against Goku's shoulder. "Now go."

 

"Aw, cheer up, Vegeta. I know you; one day you'll go back to competing with 'em. Hey, wanna spar later tonight? Would that make you feel better?"

 

"Maybe," the prince whimpered.

 

"Aw, cheer up, Vegeta. Now let's go find out what Trunks and Goten are doing!"

 

 

...

 

 

"A...a house."

 

"I'd call it a mansion."

 

"A castle."

 

"Damn."

 

"How?" Vegeta blinked.

 

"Yeah—how could they have afforded all this?" Bulma agreed. "There's a pool—a—is that a room full of snow? Is that a—is that a herd of giant lizards?" her eyes bulged. "Inside individual novelty giant hamster balls?"

 

"Wait—wait a second." Raditsu's mouth hung open. "This is where the farmer lived! " All eyes turned to him, and he shook his head. "Never mind."

 

"Welcome," Trunks strutted up to them, followed closely by Goten, "to our...humble...abode."

 

"Trunks," Goten poked the back of his shoulder, "it's called a house."

 

"It's...great!" Goku grinned. "Wow, guys! One thing, though..." he scratched his head.

"How did you pay for it?" Vegeta blinked. "Surely Kakarrot and I didn't give you enough money to have managed this..."

 

"Us...either..." Raditsu mumbled, and immediately all four turned to each other with wide eyes, pointing.

 

"You?"

 

"Suckers!" both boys sang, grinning. "Guess we win!"

 

Bulma, Raditsu, Vegeta, and Goku were silent. A quiet rumbling echoed through the mountain range in the disance—a deep and jovial rumbling, a sadistic and cruel rumbling, reptilian rumbling—rumbling that had not been heard since centuries long past.

 

Raditsu stuffed his hands in his pockets, kicking a pebble and sending it soaring into the distant highway. A small scream echoed back, followed by the far-away song of a pileup in progress. "Damn dragon."

 

 

 

 

 

END