Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Mischief Makers ❯ Mischief Makers ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I don't own `em. I wish I did, but I don't. That includes any mentioned DBZ characters or any other mentioned cartoon characters, TV show, or songs.

Special thanks to Vegge's Mate for allowing me to use her catch phrase "weakling fornicator".

The Mischief Makers

Chapter 1…Our Story Begins…

By: EmberMaxximus

The young man's current predicament could only be described as pure bliss. Clad in only a pair of silk pajama bottoms, he reclined atop a colorful mountain of goose-down pillows. Each cushion was meticulously placed for his ultimate comfort. The woman beside him was positively breathtaking. Her finely manicured hands alternated between placing bite size pieces of smoked Alaskan salmon and thinly sliced portions of mango into his mouth.

`Dende, she's beautiful,' he thought. Raising a hand to her face, he brushed aside the aqua blue locks that had fallen into her brilliant azure eyes.

"Goten-kun, you're so handsome," she softly whispered.

He leaned into the woman, wanting so desperately to experience her lips pressed against his own.

"Mmm…Bulma," he purred as she grabbed his shoulders and shook him roughly…roughly?

"Bulma," he murmured again.

"No it's me, Trunks. Wake up!"

Discontent about not being able to finish his dream, Goten slowly opened his eyes to see his life long best friend sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Dude, did I hear you just moan my mom's name."

Goten's face guiltily flushed to an incriminating shade of crimson red. "Eww, you ecchi, your having hentai dreams about my mom."

"Man, your mom is hot. It was such an awesome dream. She was wearing one of those little…," he began retelling the naughty dream.

"SHUT-UP!"

"…lacy nighty things, like from one of those Victoria Secrets magazine and…"

"Dude, if you don't shut up already I'm gonna tell my dad about…"

"Alright, alright. I was just messing with you. Trunks, man you shoulda saw the look on your face. I betcha your baby sister is gonna be hot just like your mom, when she grows up. Hey it's ten o'clock at night, what're you doing here?"

"You can be such a idiot sometimes Goten. Did you forget that we were suppose to meet in the forest a half hour ago?"

Like a light switch being turned on in his head, Goten suddenly remembered that he and Trunks were suppose to go to Satan City. How could he have possibly forgotten after he and Trunks had spent the last two weeks plotting this night…

Flashback

The two young men sat in the front of the computer screen. The lavender haired fifteen-year-old bishounen typed away. The boy certainly had inherited his mother smarts. Somehow he had managed to hack into the Department of Motor Vehicles database and create himself a pseudonym, a twenty-one year old alias to be exact. He printed out and laminated the fraudulent identification.

Goten snatched the ID from Trunks. "It looks so real. Joe Kawaii? You named yourself that," laughed Goten.

"Shut up GO-TEN. It's a good name. It's very suave."

"Where's mine? Hmm… I want my name to be Goten Saiyaman on my driver's license."

"I already told you, since you have Gohan's old ID, you don't need another one."

The teenage demi-saiyans sat at the desk making a list of things to accomplish with their newly acquired credentials. After making several amendments to their list, it basically boiled down to…

Buy Beer

Go To Strip Club

Party

End flashback

Goten dressed as quickly he could in a pair of dark baggy denim pants, an oversized T-shirt, and his favorite pair of Adidas. Grabbing his wallet, he and Trunks jumped from the bedroom window. They walked a safe distance into the forest, so that none of their family members would be able to detect their Ki, before leaping into the sky and flying towards Satan City.

"Man, Trunks this is gonna be the best Saturday night of our lives," he told his compadre. Goten's excitement was clearly written across his face in the trademark Son kool-aid smile.

"It better be. I've saved 563 zeni for tonight. And lemme tell you, it wasn't easy holding onto my allowance like that for so long."

Ten agonizingly long minutes later the warrior youths landed in the busy downtown party district of Satan City.

"So, where to first," they spoke in unison. Laughing, they both started to walk. Carefree and happy, the young men set about to have the ultimate night ever…

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The Mischief Makers

Chapter 2 - Mmm…Beefy

By: Ember Maxximus

Trunks and Goten strolled down the crowded streets of Satan City's downtown party district. They looked around in sheer awe at the many festivities taking place behind every turn and at every corner. Tattoo parlors, nightclubs, strip joints, live music and diners. A partygoer's paradise.

Goten lifted his nose, scenting the air. Mmm…beef! Forgetting everything on the "to do list", Goten charged off in the direction of the mouth watering aroma.

"Hey, Goten! Wait up man," called Trunks, but his pleas fell upon deaf ears. Son Goten was off and running. `Kuso,' mumbled the lavender haired teenager as he sprinted off in the direction of his best buddy.

Seven minutes and thirty-four seconds later, a slightly winded Trunks found Goten with his hands and face pressed up against the window front of small restaurant looking like the lady from the Mervyn's commercial…open, open, open. Trunks immediately fell into a fit of laughter at the sight of his goofy friend.

"You're such a Bubba Gump, Goten." Chuckled Trunks.

"Let's eat here," pleaded Goten.

"Dude, NO! It'll take all my zeni to feed us both. I know ChiChi-san fed you dinner, you eat more than my dad and your dad combined!"

"Duh, that's because I'm growing," stated Goten matter-of-factly. Suddenly Goten elbowed Trunks in his ribs. Goten stood with a huge grin plastered on his face, pointing at the daily specials chalkboard. In colorful pastel chalk it read `Mr. Raul's daily special…seafood pasta - 12 zeni, soup `n salad - 5 zeni, and as always the 56oz. T-bone steak meal *free to any patron who can eat the entire meal alone in one sitting*

Six steaks and thirty minutes later, hoots and applause echoed throughout the diner as the demi-saiyan youths made their exit. In the fifteen years that Mr. Raul's Bistro had been open, this was the first time ever that anyone ate the whole steak, much less three apiece. Mr. Raul, the establishment's owner, took a Polaroid photograph of the two young men to hang in the restaurant. Also, Mr. Raul gave them red polo style shirts with the diner's logo embroidered on the front.

"All your zeni to feed us, eh?" chided Goten as he rubbed his pleasantly stuffed belly.

"Shut up," mumbled Trunks.

Now that the comedic duo was stuffed like ticks, they focused on the ever so more important issue at hand…the list.

"Don't be mad, Trunks. We can go to nudie show now. Ooo, ooo, let's go there. Yeah, dude, we can go there. The Naughty Kitten."

Trunks smirked to himself as he envisioned big boobs, lap dances, and alcoholic beverages…yes! Finally!

"Woohoo. Titties and beer. Woohoo, ya, ya. Titties and beer." Snapped back to reality by Goten's lewd song, Trunks eyes lit up. Finally all the hard work and careful planning were to be put to use. Yeah, baby…The Naughty Kitten.

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Mischief Makers

Chapter 3 - The Naughty Kitten

By: Ember Maxximus

The Naughty Kitten stood in the distance amongst a myriad of clubs, strip joints, and diners. Flashing pink neon signs beckoned undersexed men of all ages, and the occasional woman, to it like a desert oasis on a scorching mid July afternoon. Like moths to the flame, the mischief makers drifted towards the hentai sanctuary with only one thought on their pubescent minds…titties and beer.

"ID's gentlemen," asked the burly ogre of a doorman. Trunks nonchalantly removed his, while Goten fumble through his wallet for Gohan's old driver's license. Bruno, well at least that's what his nametag said, snatched the boys' fraudulent credentials and suspiciously eyed them.

"Joe Kawaii, eh?" asked the behemoth bouncer.

Trunks nodded his head and sweat-dropped.

"Alright then mister `Joe Cool'…name, birth date, address, height, hair and eye color," questioned the suspicious doorman, in attempts to catch the teenage bishounen in a lie.

Trunks inhaled deeply, then in one breath he spewed, "Joe Kawaii, June 15 1980, 123 Eluspac Proc Drive, purple, blue."

Bruno nodded before turning his head towards Goten to say, "And you're how old, baby face?"

"Thirty-four?" answered Goten, adding his toothiest Son smile.

The doorman gave the saiyan youths back their identification. Trunks paid the man the, fifteen zeni a head, cover charge then he and Goten entered the Naughty Kitten.

The clubs interior was tastefully, albeit surprisingly, decorated. Several black lacquer tables with matching burgundy-cushioned chairs surrounded the black and white, raised ballroom style stage floor. Trunks and Goten chose a table near the stage and waited for the next dancer to enter the spotlight.

"Can I get you two something to drink?" Asked a petite brunette clad in a very minuscule red mini dress.

"I'll have a beer, um whatever's on tap," Trunks replied suavely.

"Can I get one of those fruity little umbrella drinks with the pineapple's and--," Goten started before Trunks interjected him.

"Just two beers, please."

"Okay cutie pie," said the waitress, as she took Trunks' ten zeni bill and headed in the direction of the bar.

"What did ya do that for," complained Goten.

"Because, only girls order fruity drinks. C'mon, think McFly. When have you ever seen anyone besides our moms' drink fruity drinks?"

Goten screwed his face up and reached one hand behind his head and scratching it, considering Trunks' revelation.

"Yeah, you're right. But, I still want one."

"I'm not paying for it, Goten."

The same waitress returned with the boys' beer. "Here you guys go, two drafts."

She handed Trunks back his change, which he so graciously gave back to her…by placing it between her bosom as she giggled away.

"Umm, miss. Can I still get one of those fruity things?" inquired Goten as Trunks gave him the evil eye across the table. Goten handed the waitress some money and she disappeared to retrieve his drink.

It was at that moment that an attractive blue haired woman took the stage. She danced around wearing only a black rhinestone thong and black patent leather stiletto heels. Long blue hair flowed down her back and eyes the color of blue skies sparkled brightly.

"Eww…dude, she looks just my mom," stated Trunks disgustedly.

"Uh-huh, she sure does," Goten dreamily replied.

The woman was quite the contortionist. She gyrated her hips suggestively. Gracefully she leapt through the air, her hands grabbed firmly onto the pole before her, while she allowed herself to dangle upside down from it. She slid down the pole then back up it repeatedly, then ended her routine by somehow lifting her ankle and placing it behind her head.

The room burst into cheers and catcalls at the end of her performance. She sauntered around the club collecting singles, fives, tens, and twenty zeni bills from her generous patrons. She made her way towards Trunks and Goten's table. Trunks crossed his arms and turned his head in the opposite direction, ignoring the blue haired exotic dancer.

"Omigawd! Like, I just totally love these little fruity umbrella drinks," she giggled. She talked as if she was some B teen movie reject from the eighties. Without asking, she reached for Goten's drink and consumed it in two swallows.

**Hiccup** "Oops, did finish your pina colada? I was really thirsty. Lemme make it up to you," she slurred. "How about a discount lap dance?"

Something inside Goten suddenly clicked. He went from goofy teenager to Mr. Debonair mode. Exactly akin to way his father went from idiot box to super saiyan warrior mode during battle.

"Sure, doll. I'd love a lap dance, especially on my birthday," Goten then took her hand, bringing it to his lips and softly kissed it.

That comment definitely got Trunks' attention. `Hey, his birthday was two months ago,' thought Trunks as he finished off the second beer.

"It's your birthday!?!" she squealed. "Well, then birthday boy consider this my gift to you, a no charge x-tra special lap dance."

"You're very pretty," he professed. "Such a pretty woman must have a pretty name, too."

"Well my stage name is Kitty, but you can call me by my real name…Marron. What's your name cutie?"

"Gohan."

"Like gag me with a spoon, I'm sooo sure! Hey! Is your dad Goku? Of course he is. Like Omigawd, I so remember you. I use to be Krillan's girlfriend. Don't cha remember me?" she asked as she took a seat in his lap and began her complimentary dance.

Goten smooth façade began to falter. He had been caught lying and now he found it impossible fib convincingly while she grinding her hips against his growing erection.

"Okay, okay, okay!" he blurted out. "I'm Son Goten, not Gohan. I kinda borrowed my brother's ID. Please don't tell anyone."

Trunks could only burry his hands in his face. `Dende, why me?'

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Mischief Makers

Chapter 4…Strip Club Hiatus

By: Ember Maxximus

What a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.

The interior lights of `The Naughty Kitten' began to dim as then evening's next entertainer took the stage. Unlike, Marron's raunchy performance, this woman possessed a certain je ne sais quoi, which made her irresistible to Trunks. She was a drop dead gorgeous, sophisticated red headed beauty. Her routine was a simple, classy strip tease danced to Shirley Bassey's Big Spender.

Her focus during the seductive presentation was on none other than Mr. Joe Kawaii himself. She removed her elbow length black gloves, followed by a black spandex tube dress. Each item was flung at Joe's…er, Trunks' feet.

Meanwhile, Trunks was completely oblivious to Goten's current dilemma with Marron. His every hormone overloaded thought revolved around the fiery goddess on stage. As her set ended, the crimson haired vixen strolled over to incognito teenagers and Marron.

"Hey Blue, mind if I take this lavender haired hunk off your hands?" the goddess spoke.

"Actually, I just blackmailed them into buying a two hundred zeni visit to the champagne room. But, you're welcome to come along, we'll make it a double trouble."

Goten and Trunks jaws' simultaneously hit the floor.

`Kuso! Kuso! Kuso! Mom and Dad can't find out about this. UURRRGGGHHH, Goten I'm gonna kill you. Think Trunks! I can do this. I still have 550 zeni. I can afford this. HFIL, I might even like it…a lot. Okay, let's do this,' deliberated Trunks.

"Okay ladies, let's do this. Lead the way," Trunks coolly stated.

The two thong clad exotic entertainers escorted the demi saiyan duo to the first unoccupied private/champagne room. They entered the room and were led to a plush black velvet sofa.

"Okay ladies, let's have it," smirked Trunks.

Marron rolled her blue eyes and shook her head before pointing to a sign on the door. `PAYMENT MUST BE RECEIVED BEFORE ANY SERVICES CAN BE RENDERED'.

"Oh…" blushed Trunks. He opened his wallet, removed two hundred zeni and forked it over to Marron. She kissed Trunks on the cheek and skipped out the door to the kitchen for the bottle of champagne.

"Yuck!" stated Trunks, while wiping the greasy crimson lipstick from his cheek.

"What…The Blue Kitty's not your type?" asked the stripper.

"No way, she looks just like my mom," he shuddered.

"Oh, I see…so handsome, what's your name?"

"Joe Kawaii."

"Well nice to meet you Joe, I'm Blaze." She extended her hand, which he politely shook. Marron reentered the room, bottle in hand. She popped the cork and filled four glasses with the bubbly liquid. She took two of the champagne filled glasses, handed one to Blaze and plopped down on the couch.

"Sit with me Blaze," Marron childishly giggled as she patted the cushion next to her. Blaze looked at Marron skeptically, but sat just the same.

"Blaze, could you believe that these two little hotties used fake ID's to get in here. I'm like so positive that their parental units are totally clueless to how bad these boys are."

"So, what are you suggesting?"

"Duh…isn't it so obvious. I'm suggesting that they ought to be punished."

"Okay Blue, now you're scaring me. C'mon they're just a couple of kids trying to have some fun. And as far as I'm concerned old man, young man, the zeni's still green and it spends just the same."

"Fine Blaze, you party pooper. You win, no punishment," Marron pouted.

Meanwhile Trunks and Goten let out a huge sigh of relief. Trunks had thought for sure that he'd end up in some rank mildewed jail, fighting of some giant of a cellmate, trying to make him his girlfriend. Yep, that would of gone over real well. He could see it now, the front page of the Satan City Informer… `Capsule Corp heir, Trunks Briefs, being charged for the murder of local gang member Tiny. Briefs, whom was arrested for forgery and underage drinking at a strip club, holds firmly to claims of self defense and was quoted saying "I'm nobody's bitch!" when asked about the event.

Goten wiped the sheen of nervous sweat from his brow. Then spoke up, interrupting the women's conversation. "Umm, does this mean that we can get that dance now?"

"As if. This only means that you're folks aren't gonna find out about this. Mmm…but maybe we can still have some fun," spoke Marron. She rose from her seat on the couch, taking the champagne bottle with her. She stood mere inches from Goten. She took a swig of the bubbly alcoholic beverage before pushing the bottle to Goten. "Drink," she commanded. He did as he was told, setting the empty bottle on the table.

She grabbed a handful of the cotton shirt, pulling Goten against her bare chest. With her other hand she cupped his face, leaning into to him and whispered into his mouth. "So, you like watching strippers?"

Afraid that any words might betray him, he merely nodded. "Me too. Strip for me."

Setting her sights on Trunks, she added "Anata mo." **you too**

That was the last straw. Mr. Kawaii was now deeply pissed. Trunks Ki crackled to life around him as his temper flared dangerously high. The explosion of his energy pushed Marron stumbling backwards into the plush sofa. "Fuck that, I refuse! I came to this place to see some naughty kittens, not to show my naughty hot dog to some thirty something, washed out titty dancer."

"Your Ki, lower it!" Goten panicked.

"Apologize Blue," Blaze began, but Marron was in such a fright and combined with all the alcohol she had consumed, she simply fainted into her coworkers lap.

"Hey Kawaii, put a lid on it. Nobody's gonna make you shake your groove thang." Slowly, Trunks began to collect his cool. "Ol' Blue can be an insufferable lush sometimes, why don't you two gentlemen get lost."

Trunks ran his fingers through his lavender locks. Hopefully, none of the other Ki sensing warriors, especially Vegeta, felt his little temper flash. She was right, they should leave, there's still plenty of time to have some real fun until dawn comes.

Blaze pulled two crisp one hundred zeni bills from the straps of Marron's thong and handed them back to Trunks.

"Not all of are like Blue, and don't worry about her. She might as well be dead to the world when she passes out like this. She won't remember a thing tomorrow and your secret's safe with me."

"Thanks," Trunks spoke.

The two mischief-makers were about to leave the room. "Hey big spender," Blaze called "Come back and see after you've learnt to shave."

Trunks gave her the trademark Vegeta family smirk and walked out the room.

They made their way into the noisy smoke filled main room of the gentlemen's club only to be confronted by the two giant size behemoth bouncers. "There they are, get `em!" Yelled the hideous looking one, while pointing in Trunks and Goten's direction. The teenage demi saiyan pair sunk into battle stance. There was no chance in the home for infinite losers that they were going down without a fight. No chance at all.

Mischief Makers

Chapter 5…Hentai's Amuck & Blue Planet Brawls

By: Ember Maxximus

The mischief makers strolled into the earsplitting, smoke filled central room of the gentlemen's club, only to be met head-on by the club's two extremely large behemoth bouncers. "There they are, get `em!" shrieked the uglier of the two, while pointing in Trunks and Goten's general direction. The teenage saiyan hybrids sunk into battle stance. There was absolutely no chance in hell that they were going down without a fight. No chance.

"Goten, don't hurt `em, just knock `em down on their asses. Then we high tail it for the exit."

"Hai, wakatta Trunks." **Yes, understood Trunks**

The burly bouncers headed straight towards the hybrid youths like a pair of out of control rabid rhinoceroses. Trunks and Goten braced themselves for impact, however the colossal bodyguards had their sights set elsewhere. They flew past the youths to a small disturbance near the stage.

"Get your filthy paws off my…" began the exotic dancer **smack**. She punched the old bald ecchi in the face, breaking his red sunglasses.

Like veteran football studs, the bouncers tackled the old man to the floor.

"Roshi!" growled the uglier of the two bouncers. "How did you get in here? Have you gotten so senile as to forget that you and Porky have been banned for life from the Naughty Kitten?"

Meanwhile, Oolong was down on all fours, stealthily sneaking towards the exit.

"Eek!!! The piggy has a camera," screamed a female voice.

"Run Oolong, run! You've been spotted! Don't let `em get the camera!" yelled Master Roshi as he fought tooth and nail against the bouncers. He grabbed the pair by the hair and slammed their foreheads together. They fell to the floor unconscious.

Seeing his chance, Master Roshi bee lined it for the exit as fast as his aging bowed legs would carry him. He burst through the Naughty Kittens' front doors in a colorful blur of red, blue and green. The loud Hawaiian style shirt ruffled against his bony body.

Out front, at the curb, he dove head first into the capsule air car's front seat. Oolong shifted the vehicle into gear with the experience of a seasoned getaway driver and tore down the street like a bat out of hell. Master Roshi stuck his right hand out the window, middle finger extended triumphantly, and flipped off the Naughty Kitten.

Trunks and Goten stared at the entire scene in utter disbelief. Was this the revered Master Roshi that Goku and Krillin had constantly sung such wonderful praises about. Good Kami, what is the world coming to?

The two demi saiyans strolled out of the strip club and walked down the crowded streets of Satan City's downtown party district. "Hey Trunks, let's go to a regular club. How `bout it dude?"

"I think that that's the best idea you've had all night long, Goten"

They didn't have to travel far. At the end of the block stood a very trendy, very loud nightclub. The club's parking lot overflowed with cars. Giant neon blue letters read `Blue Planet' above the building's main entrance.

"You wanna go in there, Trunks?"

"Yep," grinned the lavender haired bishounen.

Once again, for the second time this evening Trunks proudly displayed the Joe Kawaii false credentials, while Goten flashed Gohan's old driver's license. The only difference this time around was that the doorman wasn't interested in playing twenty questions. He merely took the cover fee and allowed the youngsters to enter the Blue Planet.

Inside the club was a rainbow of moving lights. Sweaty bodies of beautiful people bumped and grinded away on the many dance floors. Loud techno music reverberated of the walls; one could literally feel the music.

The two had barely even been inside the club for maybe a total of five minutes when a beautiful blonde approached them. Trunks appreciatory took in the glorious sight of her, starting with her clear hazel eyes then roaming over her hourglass figure. Wow, she was hot! For all he knew, she could've just walked straight out of an MTV video. The fuscia halter-top she wore showed off her ample bosom and the flare bottom hip huggers clung to her curvaceous derriere like a second skin. Then she smiled, it was like pure sunshine.

"I've never seen you here before," she purred.

"It's my first time here," Trunks blushed.

"Aww, how sweet, a Blue Planet virgin. Well, let me be the first to deflower you. Ooo, this is my jam. C'mon let's dance."

She took Trunks by the hand and guided him to the center of the main dance floor.

"Uh, yeah Trunks…I'll catch up with you later. If you need me, I'll be at the bar having some fruity drinks," Goten called after his oblivious friend.

They danced against each other. Bodies close, so very close. Trunks was completely enthralled with her, totally under her spell. `Now, this is how the night should have began in the first place,' he thought.

The blonde wrapped her arms around Trunks' neck and pulled him closer. He was utterly hypnotized by her womanly charms. Then unexpectedly, she pulled him closer to her and tasted his lips with her own. She reluctantly broke the heated kiss to stare into his sparkling blue eyes.

"I don't even know your name," he whispered into her ear.

Meanwhile at the other end of the club, Goten was busy sampling every flavor of daiquiri that the Blue Planet had to offer. So far, he'd tried strawberry, banana, liquid cocaine, fuzzy navel, peach, mango, tropical fruits, sangria and coconut-pineapple. Only nine more flavors to go and he could officially say that he'd tasted every flavor of daiquiri that the Blue Planet sold.

Poor Goten, the room began spinning and he was suddenly overwhelmed with the need to urinate. He hopped off his barstool and staggered to the bathroom, all the while humming `We Gotta A Power' loudly to himself.

~*~*~

"Oh…Here I am kissing you and I haven't even told you my name, you must think I'm a total-"

"No, not at all," Trunks interjected.

She brought her hands up to the back of his neck, running her fingers through the silken lavender locks and smiled that smile at him again.

"My name is Trunks…Trunks Briefs," he told her, returning the grin.

"I'm…"

"BRITNEY!!!" bellowed a belligerent drunken male voice. "Get uhwaay from fhat purdy boooy. Yous my gurl!"

Towering an intimidating 7'2" was one of the biggest mother fucker's Trunks had ever laid eyes on. He grabbed Britney's arm, forcing her back into the growing crowd.

"How dare yoouus, I'm gonna rips of yourz head und shit down yourz nexs!" Bullied the possible beau.

"Is that what you think?" Trunks smirked.

The giant lunged at Trunks. Cocking back his right fist, he put all his weight behind that right hook. Trunks just stood there, with that Vegeta smirk, making no attempt what so ever to defend himself. The fist made contact with Trunks' chin. Somehow, over the music, crunching bones could be heard and the giant beau fell to his knees, clutching his now shattered knuckles and weeping like a newborn babe.

Trunks bent down close enough so that the wailing giant possible beau could hear him. Then Trunks simply stated, "You hit like a girl."

The moment those five words were spoken; it was as if it signaled an apocalyptic chain of events. Testosterone fueled by alcohol flared to life starting a massive bar room style brawl in the club.

It was as if every male at the Blue Planet was intent on proving their manhood by pummeling Trunks. As if that was possible! He dodged each attacker easily, mere child's play and before he knew it he could hear police sirens screaming in the distance.

`Kuso, we gotta get out of here. Where'd Goten go,' he thought.

As if on cue, Goten drunkenly stumbled out of the men's room and met up with Trunks.

"Dude, you didn't save any for me?" Goten slurred.

"You're wasted!" Trunks accused.

"Well…maybe I wouldn't be if you hadn't decided to run off and play kissy face with Miss Boobs!"

The police swarmed in the club through every possible exit. Trunks had no choice but to create an alternate way out. He grabbed Goten by the wrist and dragged him to the opposite side of the club. Summoning the necessary amount of Ki, he blasted a man size hole into the wall. The two made their escape into the dark alley emerging right in front of a small shop. "The Other Side" tattoo parlor to be precise.

"Hey Goten, exactly how many fruity drinks did you have?" asked Trunks mischievously.

Goten looked at his fingers and began counting off his drinks on each digit. Then he got to ten and plopped down onto the ground and started to remove his shoes to count the remainder of the drinks on his toes.

"Eww! Never mind Goten…Hey, remember when we were ten and you wanted to get a tattoo?"

**sings loud and off key** "Give me two pina coladas. I need one for each hand…"

"GO-TEN!"

"Huh?"

"Dude, were you just singing Garth Brookes?"

"So, what if I was. It's a very nice song. Bulma likes that song," chuckled Goten.

"Quit talking about my mom like that!!!"

"Man, your mom is hot."

"Shut-up! Didn't we have this talk already tonight?"

"Huh?"

"Hey I got an idea, why don't you get a tattoo of my mom's name on butt!"

"Fine, maybe I will!"

"Fine, I'll even pay for it!"

Being the son of Vegeta, Trunks had inherited some of his father's bad temper and a tad of his father's overly dry sense of humor. He pulled the intoxicated Goten towards `The Other Side' tattoo parlor and piercing pagoda. Besides, Goten had been quite the pain in the ass so far this evening. Why not return the favor, ne?

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The Mischief Makers

Chapter 6…"Just Say NO!"

Needing to have the last word Trunks yelled "Fine!" once more at Goten. Trunks kept his arms at his sides, clenching and unclenching his fists in anger. They locked eyes, mad dogging each other, neither wanted to show submissiveness by being the first to look away.

*~*~*~

He observed the two young men from the opposite side of the boulevard. He had originally taken notice of them as they first appeared from the shadows of the dark alleyway; the fairer of the two had been dragging the ebony haired teenager urgently by his wrist. The shorter of the pair, was obviously inebriated and this fact seemed to perturb the lilac haired teen quite immensely. Apparently the two were now engaged in some minor verbal squabble. Perhaps, this observer might be able to offer the two just what they didn't even realize they needed, a little illegal herbal pick me up of sorts or perchance something a tab more potent.

The lanky outline of the observer casually strolled across the street to the arguing demi-saiyan duo. The hood of his oversized navy sweatshirt barely obscuring the mass of dark dreadlocks that fell just past his narrow shoulders.

"A mon, don be like dat. Jus' chill with ja bro. I's gots whatcha' be needing, some Mary Jane. The best ganga in all of dis here city. It's da chronic mon, ja wanna buy a dime bag?" asked the Rastafarian observer while fiddling with the pocket of his four sizes too big Fubu jeans.

Forgetting his frustration with Trunks, Goten turned to his friend and blurted out "Huh?"

"Dude I think he's wants to sell us some cigaweed, you know marijuana," answered Trunks.

Son Goten's eye widened with realization of what this man was attempting to do. Recalling all his mother's teachings and the many `Just Say No' assemblies in grammar school Goten sang out, literally, the first thing that came to his drunken mind. "Drugs are bad! Drugs are booze! Booze will knock you out your shoes!"

Perplexed, the Rastafarian slowly edged backwards away from the odd pair. "Ja nevamind than, mon."

"People like you belong behind bars! I have close relations with the Great Saiyaman, and when he finds out about you, it's gonna be curtains for you, curtains I tell you!" Goten bellowed at the Rastafarian drug-dealing observer.

The Rastafarian was now quaking in his Timberland hiking boots; his bloodshot eyes were glaring daggers into Son Goten.

"Ja fewl, mon, I ain't eva goin bock dere!" He reeled, reaching into his baggy trousers; he removed a shiny black glock nine-millimeter handgun and fired the weapon three times, point blank, into Goten's chest. The demi saiyan stumbled backwards clutching his torso and looking at Trunks in absolute disbelief. His breath hitched in his throat and tears welled into his bright onyx eyes.

"You've ruined my favorite shirt! Do you know how many damn yards I had to mow to buy this!?!"

The Rastafarian couldn't believe his eyes; the youth didn't even have a scratch on him, yet the poor boy was balling like a newborn over the destruction of his beloved shirt.

Goten was now beyond pissed. His energy began to rise, crackling to life around him. Black eyes flickered teal and black hair lightened to blonde. Then suddenly his energy ignited around him in a golden halo of luminosity.

"Golden Warrior," the Rastafarian spoke softly under his breath. Then the coward turned tail and ran as fast as he could from the fighter.

Meanwhile, Trunks lay on the floor, laughing his ass off and chuckling hysterically in a fit of uncontrolled laughter.

Goten easily caught up to his assailant and grabbed the man by his shoulder length black dread locks, throwing him down on the dirty asphalt.

"This shirt cost me forty-seven zeni, pay up!" roared an irate Goten.

The drug dealing, gun-wielding bakayarou dug deep into his pockets, removing a fat roll of cash and thrusting it at the golden warrior.

"The drugs! Gimme the drugs, too!"

Again, the drug dealing, gun-wielding bakayarou dug deep into his other pocket and shoved a small sack at Goten. The bag contained marijuana, cocaine, xtacy, and speed. Goten scowled at the man then tossed the knapsack into the air. The sack was followed by a small stream of Ki, which obliterating the illegal substances to mere ashes.

"No mon, no! Not m'stash!" he cried, voice wavering uncontrollably and puffy red eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"Now get lost before I make you next!"

The drug pusher scrambled to his feet and sprinted as swiftly as he could down the almost empty street.

"Watch this," Goten told Trunks as he formed a tiny Ki blast at the end of his index finger. With great precision, he aimed the sphere at the Rastafarian's backside. The Ki orb made contact and severed the man's black belt, which had, until now, been keeping his oversized pants up. The trousers fell to his knees and the poor bastard tripped over the jeans and landed face first on the black tarmac. Tighty not so whitie underwear clung to his bony butt. The former drug dealing, no longer gun-wielding Rastafarian bakayarou was so completely terrified that he liberated not only the contents of his bladder but he also emptied his bowels all over himself. He gathered his pants and hastily and got to his feet. He darted down the street in his excrement stained clothing, screaming, "Help me! Help me!" like the little bitch that he so ceremoniously proved himself to be.

Trunks and Goten were now both on the ground doubled over, cackling hysterically.

"Dude, it looks like I can pay for my own tattoo now," Goten managed to say between laughs.

The two collected themselves, dusted off their clothing and entered The Other Side tattoo and piercing parlor.

*~*~*~*~

A set of bells jingled as they opened the front door, announcing their presence. A bald tattoo covered man appeared from the back to attend to his late night patrons. The interior of the tattoo parlor was brightly lit. The walls were covered with a variety of possible tattoos and pictures of satisfied customers.

"Let me know if you need any help," informed the tattoo artist.

"You got a bathroom?" asked Goten.

"Down the hall, last door on the right," he replied.

Goten walked down the hallway to his desired destination. After using the facilities he went to the sink and splashed cold water on his face.

"Man, I feel like crap," he moaned aloud to himself. "I would give my left arm for a senzu bean right about now."

He suddenly remembered his emergency senzu, the one carried just in case located with the emergency condom in the secret fold of the trusty wallet. He popped the bitter bean into his mouth, chewed twice and swallowed. A rejuvenating wave of healing goodness washed over his body reversing the ill effects of all the alcohol he'd consumed earlier that evening.

All at once he was hit with the memories of his stupidity of drunken actions. `Omikami, Trunks, that kono yogore was gonna let me get a tattoo on my ass,' Goten thought. He growled at the thought. `Kuso, Vegeta-sama would've killed me if I had gotten that tattoo.

HFIL, my mom would kill me if I got any kind of tattoo.' Then out of the blue Goten got idea.

"Paybacks a motherfucker," he said to himself.

Goten, feigning intoxication, stumbled down the hall back to the lobby. In his best drunken voice he spoke, "Mr. Tattoo artist person guy, I'm ready."

"What'll it be then? A skull on your arm or maybe a tribal band?" asked the employee.

"Nope, I want a big red heart with wings on my ass, with blue letters that spell B-U-L-M-A."

Mr. Tattoo artist just chuckled and replied, "If that's what you want guy. I can add some flowers and birdies too," he mocked.

"I think I'd like that," answered Goten.

Trunks couldn't believe his ears. He stood there angry and speechless as Mr. Tattoo Artist led Goten down the hall to a private room.

Once inside, Goten fell out laughing. "Dude," he began telling the artist "I'll pay you double to give me a henna tattoo of Bulma, but I need to have the guy outside think that I'm really getting this tattoo. So you gotta have that little needle buzzing and you have to bandage me up when you're done."

"Agreed, but who's this Bulma character?" he asked.

"His mom."

They both began to laugh out loud and commenced with the phony tattoo.

*~*~*~

Trunks felt miserable. He wandered around the lobby looking at all the tattoos. "I can help you decide," spoke a feminine voice. He turned to see a gorgeous leather clad woman walking his way. Well then when in Rome do as the Romans.

"I'm Elvia, Elvia Darkdragon, the owner. When you're ready, just let me know." She turned to walk away back towards the counter. Trunks was mesmerized by the sway of her hips in the black leather pants.

"I'm Joe. Um, Ms. Darkdragon?" he began.

"Elvia, just Elvia," she corrected.

"You're so young and you don't even have any tattoos yourself."

"Age is nothing but a number," she spoke, jade colored eyes meeting his azure ones as shamelessly lifted her shirt revealing an extremely detailed, massive colorful mural style tattoo of Shen-Ron on her entire back. Her flawless tanned café au lait complexion made for the perfect canvas. She unhooked her bra, so that he could truly see the work of art on her back.

"Forty hours to have him completed," she said while fixing her bra and white wifebeater style tank top. "As a child I was killed by Cell, it is said that the warriors whom defeated him made a wish to this dragon and he revived all those slain by him. My outlook on life has since been dramatically altered…So do you have something in mind for your tattoo yet." She pulled the mass of shoulder length black curly hair into a scrunchie.

"You know what, I sure do. Do you have a pen?" On a piece of paper he drew the red Vegeta royal family crest. "I want that on my shoulder in crimson ink, can you do it?"

"Can do," she spoke, her painted burgundy lips curling into a flirtatious smile. "You have a beautiful mouth, you know. You should let me pierce your tongue as well while you're here."

"Nani! My tongue?"

"Did I stutter? Of course, your tongue. I find it quite erotic to be kissed by a man with his tongue pierced. If…you know what I mean?"

Trunks blushed, turning a shade similar to a tomato, at the woman's bluntness.

"So how about, Joe? When it heals I might even show you how to use it." Trunks envisioned himself in the sack with this glorious little minx. She was the ideal teacher any virgin schoolboy could hope for. Her hourglass figure, faultless bosom, and those burgundy lips…mmm, mmm, mmm, hello Mrs. Robinson.

With a devious twinkle in his eye he said in a very Vegeta like way, "When it heals, huh?"

"C'mon let's get you tattooed and pierced."

He followed her down the hall to the room opposite of Gotens'. Donning the latex gloves she quickly pierced his tongue then busily engraved his skin with the red crest. A half hour later Trunks emerged from the room feeling completely badass now. He was greeted by Goten, whom was patiently waiting for him in the lobby. He paid Elvia the 150 zeni and promised to look her up after his tongue healed, which considering his saiyan physiology would most likely be tomorrow. The two mischief makers left the parlor and walked down the street.

"What did you get? Lemme see, c'mon dude," questioned Goten.

Trunks lifted his shirtsleeve to reveal the crest. "Sweet," exclaimed Goten. "Do you wanna see mine?"

In all honestly Trunks had no desire what so ever to see the desecration that Goten had done to his body, but curiosity got the best of him and he nodded his head. Goten pulled the corner of his pants down and pulled the bandage aside. There stood, in all its glory, covering the entire left cheek of his ass, the tattoo. A giant red heart with wings read Bulma Forever. Doves, doilies, flowers and several small twinkling stars surrounded the heart. Trunks felt himself swoon. Did his friend have no idea that he'd just signed his own death warrant with that abomination on his ass? Unable to tear his eyes away, he was overwhelmed with a sense of guilt. He had been a part of the future demise of his best bud.

"What's wrong Trunks?"

"I just want to tell you in case I never see you again after tonight that **sniff, sniff** I love you, man." He bit his lip to keep the tears from spilling as he choked back sobs.

Overcome by remorse Goten decided not to torture his friend any longer and let the cat out the bag. "It's temporary Trunks. It's just henna. I had you going there too for a minute. Too bad you started crying, truly I'm touched, and I would've kept the gig on until it faded away."

Realizing he'd just been played, Trunks punched Goten hard in the arm sending him flying down the street. Goten just laughed it off, besides the hit barely tickled.

They continued their stroll, they had accomplished everything on the "to do list" and with dawn fast approaching in a few hours it was a good idea to go home. That is, until they felt a familiar Ki.

**************************************************************** **

Mischief Makers

Chapter 7…Dirty Deeds

By: Ember Maxximus

Closer and the closer it came. It's familiarity teasingly recognizable, yet not. It came nearer and nearer, taunting the young men with its presence. It approached at speeds upwards of sixty miles per hour. The pair focused upon the heavens above, hoping to catch a glimpse of their possible demise. Who was this lone warrior, with their Ki suppressed to virtually nothing at all? It felt so tangible. Damn it! Who!?!

Staring into the star speckled night sky, Trunks shouted, "Show yourself!"

Nothing. No response, nothing at all, only the fast approaching headlights of a sports air car. A brand new red convertible Capsule Camaro to be exact. The car flew past at speeds twice the legal limit. A dark haired male driver with two female passengers hastily sped down the boulevard. AC/DC's "Dirty Deeds, Done Dirt Cheap" thunderously reverberated from the air car's overpriced stereo system.

That Ki. That car. That man. Quoting his father, Trunks gritted his teeth and growled "Weakling fornicator."

"Who?" questioned Goten.

"Yamcha." Trunks sneered.

Yamcha, the former member of the Z Senshi, ex-baseball player, and self proclaimed stud muffin extraordinaire. Trunks loathed the man with every fiber of his being. His hatred stemmed from years of seeing this man grovel for his mother's affections in the absence of Vegeta. He recalled witnessing one particular argument the man had shared with his mother during an outing to the park when he had been a boy.

Flashback

"He's an asshole, Bulma! Can't you see that I still love you?" Yamcha pleaded.

"Don't speak of Vegeta that way! He's the man I'm with, the man I want, the man I love, the father of my son!" Bulma retaliated, her cheeks flushing with anger.

"But, I love you…"

"You wouldn't know love if it came and bit you on your ass!"

"Please, Bul-," he began.

"Listen very carefully, because I'm only going to say this once. I would not let you touch me if you were the last man on Chikyuu or if both my hands were cut of off at the wrist, hell, not even if the world mysteriously ran out of batteries," she calmly told him, venom in her words. Calling out to chibi Trunks, voice full of maternal love she yelled, "Honey, it's time to go home now."

End flashback

"I can't stand him," Trunks informed Goten. The music, as well as Yamcha's miniscule

Ki began to fade. The last part of the song's fading lyrics echoing in his head…

Pick up the phone
Leave her alone
It's time you made a stand
For a fee I'll be happy to be
Your back door man

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap
Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

Concrete shoes, cyanide, TNT
Done Dirt Cheap
Neckties, contracts, high voltage
Done Dirt Cheap

Trunks scowled, running his fingers through his lavender locks. He turned to Goten, smirking deviously, "I've got an idea, follow me."

Focusing on Yamcha's feeble energy signature, Trunks and Goten ran as quickly as possible, without raising their own Ki, after Yamcha's red air car. They arrived just in time to see the man exit his vehicle and guide the two baseball groupies towards a first floor room of the sleazy `No Tell Motel'.

The man could be heard conversing with the women as they walked. One female was draped against his right side; his arm snaked around her waist. Obviously jealous, the second woman pulled his other arm around her side, forcing his palm to rest on her large derrière.

Brushing his lips against groupie #1's ear he spoke, "If I could be anything less than human, I'd want to be the water in your bathtub."

Goten snickered, "Liar, he'd want to be a saiyan."

Turning to the other woman, he gave her ass a good squeeze and told her, "Your daddy must've been a thief…he stole the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes."

"What a cheese ball, I can't believe those bimbos fell for that. You're daddy must've been a thief," Goten scoffed.

"Well, we know what his momma must've been," he joked.

"What?" asked Goten.

"An extra on The Simpsons," Trunks jested.

"Yeah, I even heard she lost her job at the sperm bank…for drinking on the job."

"Eww! Goten, that's disgusting!"

"You're just mad because you didn't think of it first," he laughed.

"So, you ready to prank the sorry bastard or what?"

"I thought you'd never ask," replied Goten.

The pair dashed down the empty streets, making their way to the outskirts of Satan City with Goten hot on Trunks heels. Five minutes later the pair had completely cleared the perimeter of the metropolis and were now entering the suburbs. Goten blindly followed Trunks through the short journey finally stopping in front of "Pa and Ma's Wholesale Garden Center". Trunks easily broke the lock and the pair ventured inside the gated enclosure. Pointing to a stack of sacks in the corner, Trunks said to Goten, "Take as many as you can carry, I'll meet you back at Yamcha's car."

Goten bent over to lift the fifty-pound bag when he froze. He heavily sniffed the air twice, and then blatantly exclaimed, "Fuck that! These sacks reek of shit." Goten kneeled down and suspiciously inspected the packages. He carefully examine the label, only to discover that the sacks contents were indeed shit, cow manure to be more specific.

"Goten," Trunks said as if speaking to a child. "I'm not asking you to do anything that I wouldn't do. So just grab as many bags as you can carry and so will I." Goten let out an over exaggerated breath and began to gather the manure sacks.

Goten held in his arms, a grand total of eleven sacks. Just as he was about to sprint back to the No Tell Motel, a pair of red Dobermans loomed into view growling at the would be thieves. Trunks turned towards the attack guard dogs, flashed his canine incisors and growled deep in his own throat at the animals. The large red beasts timidly backed away from the stronger opponent and retreated back to whence they came from whining the whole way. Had the beasts still had their tails, they would've been tucked tightly between their hind legs.

Trunks hoisted his fourteen sacks and he and Goten returned back to the shiny new sports air car. Upon arrival, Goten began ripping open the bags and dumping the poop into the car. "Dude, you're doing it the hard way. Don't bother to open them, just toss the bags into the front and back seats."

The first task had been completed, now for round two. Trunks focused his Ki into his index finger and began to run the digit over the car with the experience of a seasoned welder. In large capitol letters, he burned the words weakling fornicator into the hood of the vehicle. Following Trunks lead, Goten began to do the same. The car was now completely covered in a menagerie of vulgar and explicit words, although the etched words of weakling fornicator stood out above the rest.

"Now for the final touch," Trunks mischievously spoke to Goten. He reached inside the coupe and tweaked a few wires underneath the dashboard. The engine roared to life along with the stereo system. Trunks removed the AC/DC cd from its case and inserted it into the radio. "Dirty Deeds" blared to life. Trunks then took the opportunity to hit the repeat button on the cd player and turned the volume up to its highest setting. Stepping away from the vandalized vehicle, Trunks and Goten looked at each other and nodded in unspoken understanding. In unison, the mischief makers fired a small stream of Ki into the car's interior, igniting the car into flaming inferno of cow shit. The horrific stench was unbearable, almost enough to make one vomit. The pair leapt onto the adjacent rooftop of The Adult Video Megaplex and stayed to watch the scene unravel from there.

In a matter of seconds, a masked Yamcha exploded through the front door of his rented motel room wearing only a pair of leather chaps and an extremely tall cowboy hat. He ran around the vehicle, his bare bottom forming goose pimples from the chilled night air and his equipment flopping to and fro with each step he took around the automobile.

"I'll get you, by Kami, whoever did this I'll get you!" the words torn from his lips in a primal guttural shriek.

The fast approaching sound of sirens could be heard in the distance drawing closer. The demi saiyan pair put their laughter in check and jumped from the roof. The duo tore down the street, racing in the direction of the Son family home.

They finally slowed down a few miles from the Son residence. The pair was huffing and puffing from the run.

"Did you see what he was wearing? What the fuck was that suppose to be?" Goten laughed.

"I dunno. Could've been anything. If I had to guess, I would say either The Lone Ranger or **sings** dum dum ta da dum dum ta da Bonanza."

"Hey Trunks, maybe he was `spose to be Woody from Toy Story."

The pair fell out, again, for the umpteenth time that evening. In the distance the dark skies were beginning to lighten to as the sun began to make its appearance in the horizon.

"Dude, the sun's coming up. You gotta get home," Trunks anxiously spoke. He bent near his friend sniffing his rank aroma. "Man you stink like shit, booze, and smoke. Take your clothes of and burn `em Goten."

Goten stripped down to his smiley face boxers and adidas running shoes. He removed the wad of cash that he'd confiscated from the drug dealer along with his wallet. Using as little energy as possible, he incinerated the clothing.

"Okay dude, I'm out. I gotta get home and grab a shower before mom wakes up. Trunks, tonight kicked ass, we gotta do this again."

Trunks shuddered at the thought of his friend being discovered by ChiChi. "Yeah, tonight was sweet. But next time, no alcohol for you," he replied sternly.

The juvenile delinquents separated, going each their own way. Trunks went to Capsule Corporation and Goten was off to the Son family residence. Each of the adolescent super saiyans prayed to Kami above that they would not get caught…. But, since when did the deity ever listen to such wayward teenage boys.

**************************************************************** ******

The Mischief Makers

Chapter 8…When The Shit Hits The Fan…

By: Ember Maxximus

.

At the Son residence…

Son Goten stealthily climbed in through his open window. He stretched his Ki sensing abilities out to the other members of his household and noted the entire clan was fast asleep. He exhaled deeply and wiped the forming nervous perspiration from his brow in relief. He went to the corner of his small boudoir and removed a loose floorboard near his dresser. Alongside his growing Playboy stash, he hid Gohan's old driver's license and the fat wad of cash that the Rastafarian drug pusher had so generously donated to him. He scrupulously placed each item in it's own place and returned the board back to its original state.

He reached into his dresser drawer and removed a pair of paisley boxer shorts. Treading ever so softly, he made his way down to the hallway to the homes' only shower. Silently, Goten thanked Gohan for the small addition to his life long home.

Originally, Gohan had wanted to purchase his dearly loved mother a new home, when he had gotten the high paying professors' job at West Capitol's posh university, but she had modestly declined. In the end Gohan settled for adding a modern master bathroom to the aging house, as a present to his mother. Although she had chided him for the gift, it was much appreciated, especially during cold winter nights. Simply reminiscing about having to pre boil his bath water in that giant metal tub outside made him grimace.

He turned the hot water on, allowing the room to fill with steam. He adjusted the temperature, removed his skivvies, and hopped into the scalding shower. The forceful heated spray of the massaging water felt extremely blissful as it cascaded down his chiseled back, rinsing away the grime, and relaxing his tired muscles. He scrubbed his body and hair with the scented soap until his skin was nearly raw and his scalp tingled. Absolutely, no way in hell, could he allow anyone to scent his discrepancies from the night before.

Using all his willpower, Goten had to all but bite his tongue to keep from singing aloud or for that matter even humming Outkast's So Fresh & So Clean…ain't nobody dope as me, I dress so fresh and clean…so fresh & so clean, clean. He pulled aside the floral shower curtain and reached for the towel…that wasn't there.

`Kuso, no towel,' he thought. He was just about to simply flare his Ki to dry, but fear of being found awake so early this Sunday morning altered his decision.

The dark haired demi saiyan youth opened the bathroom door. He peeked his head out through the narrow opening and looked right…no one, then left…no one. In all his naked glory, he quietly tiptoed down the long hallway to the linen closet. He opened the cabinet, searching for his most cherished Fraggle Rock towel. He scanned the towels, finding the desired one at the bottom of the stack. Just as he was about to remove the drying cloth, he heard a deafening, ear splitting shriek.

Time seemed to stand eternally still as Goten turned to see his mother, ChiChi, at the end of the once empty hallway. Her body shook with rage, her cheeks flushed with fury. Her eyes were fixated on the enormous henna tattoo that covered the entire left cheek of his muscled behind. She saw everything, the giant red heart with wings that read Bulma Forever. She saw the doves, doilies, flowers and each and every small twinkling star that surrounded the heart.

"SON GOTEN!" she screeched. "What on Kami's green Chikyuu is that on your bottom. Goten! Answer me! Goten, `o my word! Does that say Bulma!?!"

"Mom, it's not what you think…I can explain."

Meanwhile, at the Vegeta-Briefs residence…

Bathed and in bed Trunks Vegeta-Briefs slumbered peacefully, wholly unaware of his best friends current dilemma. Sweet dreams of Blaze, Britney, and Elvia Darkdragon

giving him "special attentions" danced in subliminal thoughts.

At the opposite end of the huge mansion, the infant eating machine, otherwise known as Bra Vegeta Briefs awoke screaming her lungs out with an empty belly and a full diaper. Bulma groaned, rubbed her sleepy eyes and got up from bed to attend to the unhappy babe.

Half asleep, Bulma trudged down the hall to her daughter's nursery. All the while mumbling obscenities under her breath about the child's baka sire and his blatant refusal to change diapers and prepare formula.

Twenty minutes later the mother and daughter pair were comfortably seated at the kitchen table. Bulma sat sipping espresso and reading her newspapers, the Satan City Informer and West Capitol Gazette while Bra sat contently in her motorized Capsule baby swing chugging down her eighth bottle of Similac. For the two, this was a Sunday morning ritual, a time to bond. Akin to way Vegeta would drag Trunks to gravity chamber to pound the life out of the boy in a simple training session. Yes, very similar, except for the whole blood and bruises part.

"I love you B-chan," she cooed to the infant.

Bright blue eyes acknowledged her mother, and then the little one returned her full attention back to the warm formula. Bulma decided to read the Satan City Informer as the first brain food of the morning. She unfolded the daily paper and to her downright disbelief, there on the front page was a full color picture of Yamcha dressed in the erotic cowboy gear standing next to a vehicle fully engulfed in flames. She couldn't help but laugh aloud at the fool and curiosity required she read the article…

Local baseball hero and Satan's city's most eligible bachelor, Yamcha was the last victim of an apparent rise in crime in Satan City's downtown party district last night. The first incident to occur happened at the ever-popular gentlemen's club `The Naughty Kitten'. Sources say that one hundred and fifty zeni worth of exotic dancewear was possibly stolen by an elderly man and pet pig whom had been reportedly banned the previous year from the club. Approximately three blocks from that event a massive barroom style brawl took place at the techno haven, Blue Planet Club. It seems the culprit behind the disastrous incident was an unknown lavender haired assailant with inhuman strength. Eyewitness' statements declare that the man pummeled over twenty men before blowing up the black wall with some sort of grenade. He eluded capture and escaped with a drunken dark haired man. Also, five blocks away, a man, convicted felon, Heracio Farley, claims to be attacked and robbed by a `Gold Fighter', but police noted that the man was under some unknown illegal substance and he will be detained for further questioning of possible unrelated drug trafficking allegations. It was also reported that over one thousand pounds of cow manure valuing five hundred zeni was stolen from `Pa & Ma's Wholesale Garden Center'. Even more perplexing, was the fact that the owner's Doberman guard dogs seemed to be in some sort of shock. The veterinary facility the animals' were taken to confirm that canines were NOT poisoned as originally deduced, only in shock, the dogs are scheduled for release sometime early next week. The most scandalous of events was the vandalism to super fighter and baseball legend, Yamcha's new capsule air Camaro. It seems that several explicit comments were blowtorched into the vehicle's body. The car was also filled with some unknown foul smelling accelerant and lit on fire. It took fire fighters nearly thirty minutes to subdue the blaze. Yamcha was unable to comment about his car's condition or his cowboy attire (note cover picture) or even the reason why he was at the `No Tell Motel' in the first place. Police are baffled and have no leads to any possible suspects. Police also refused to comment if any of these incidents may or may not be related to each other. Police also urge anyone with any information to contact your local police department with tips and would also like to remind callers that their identities will be kept anonymous…

Bulma sipped her espresso as she let her mind absorb the article. Obviously, Master Roshi and Oolong had been on another one of their infamous panty raids but the rest of the article was simply screaming at her mother's intuition. Giving into curiosity, she lifted the babe from the swing and made her way to her eldest child's room. She peeked into the room to find the boy fast asleep. He was growing up into such a handsome young man. He looked exactly like his father, painted in her colors. Her firstborn, her pride and joy. Just coincidences she told herself. She trekked back down the stairs, how could she of possibly have even entertained the thought that little Trunks might be behind any of last night's crime spree.

She made herself another steaming cup of the dark caffeinated beverage. Bra was placed back into the swing and Bulma returned to her seat in the chair. She grabbed the other paper, The West Capitol Gazette, and flipped through each section. She read each page top to bottom. Not one spot on the newspaper was left untouched by her inquisitive azure eyes. Fingertips smudged with black ink, she opened the last section of the paper, the local news. Smack dab in the center of the paper was a five by five color picture of her son and Goten. Now that had definitely caught her interest, she began to read…

For the first time in the history of `Raul's Bistro' a pair of young men, Joe Kawaii and Son Gohan finished not one but a combined total of six 56oz. T-bone steak meals. The small restaurant has been open for over twenty years and this was the first time ever that the feat was able to be successfully accomplished. Since last night, Mr. Raul has added a stipulation to the free meal, only one person per year.

"That little shit!" Bulma growled. Leaving the baby in the swing, she stormed up the stairs to her son's bedroom. She burst through the door, flipping the light on upon entering. She grabbed the corner of the black comforter and jerked it off of the bed to reveal the sleeping the teenager, dressed only in a pair of plaid pajama bottoms.

"Get up! Get up!" she screeched. Half asleep, Trunks stumbled out of bed. "Downstairs now!" She gripped the boy by his ear, hauling him down the stairs to the kitchen table. Bulma pushed the articles in face yelling, "Read it!"

Now, quite awake, he read the piece of writing. `How did she know! I can still play it off, she's only making assumptions.' Trunks then flipped over the second newspaper article to see the very incriminating picture. Trunks sweat dropped.

"So, young man or should I say Mr. Joe Cool, what do you have to say for yourself," she questioned sternly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I…um," Trunks began, his brain in overdrive trying to concoct some plausible lie, that would offer the least amount of punishment.

DING-DONG

`Yes, saved by the bell,' he thought.

"You stay put!" Bulma told her son. She hefted chibi Bra from the baby swing and quickly went to the front entrance.

`Um the date on the restaurant photo is from last week. Yes, that's what I'll tell her. And um...the article is just a coincidence, as if I'm the only that hates Yamcha…whatever. There are no suspects are any incriminating evidence. Oh ya. Dude, you're too clever. I am da man with da plan…It's all good,' he reflected to himself.

Bulma returned to the kitchen, followed by the uninvited early morning guests. ChiChi towed Goten into the kitchen, a large cast iron skillet in the other hand. Poor Goten was being unceremoniously yanked by the ear. The young man was barefoot and wearing only a thin pair of cotton boxer shorts.

"Show her!" screeched the harpy mother at her frightened offspring.

"What are you talking about mom? I just wanna go back home, you're embarrassing me," pleaded Goten.

Taking the massive frying pan, she walloped her youngest some upside down his cranium. "YOU, em-BARE-ASS-ed yourself, boy! Now show Bulma-san how you desecrated your body with that filth, then I demand you apologize to her!"

With ease that only comes from years of firsthand experience in child rearing, she flung the upstart unpleasant child over her knee. She tugged the undergarment aside, exposing the massive tattoo of Bulma Forever along with the frilly fru fru that surrounded it. Bulma gasped aloud, eyes bulging out of their sockets. Goten struggled to upright himself, mumbling obscenities under his breathe.

**smack** again she struck him with the cast iron skillet. "I'll have none of that filth flarn filth coming out of that mouth of yours, Goten!"

Trunks couldn't take it anymore and flung himself to Goten's defense. "It's just henna mom, it'll come off after a week or two." At that moment, Bulma's attention focused on the Saiya-jin royal family crest that was inked into her son's upper arm.

"And, I suppose that's henna, too." Bulma poked the fresh tattoo as hard as she possibly could, earning an `ouch' from Trunks.

"Gomen-nasai, Bulma-san. I meant no disrespect, I only did it as a joke to Trunks" Goten spoke. **I'm sorry**

"I accept your apology. I have a special solution that should clean that off rather nicely in the lab, you may have it when you leave…and um, if you value your life, let's not tell Vegeta about it either. We'll just pretend it never happened."

"Arigatou, Bulma-san, arigatou," he replied. **Thank you**

Bulma retrieved both articles, handing them to ChiChi, whom read both newspaper editorials aloud, her voice taking on a very deadly tone as she progressed.

"Is this true, Goten?" she asked. "And do not dare lie to me because I will know!" she threatened.

Trunks looked to his partner in crime in absolute horror. "Hai..." he began.

"Iie, he meant iie. Right Goten, you meant no," Trunks interjected.

Bulma narrowed her eyes at her son. She focused on his mouth as he wholeheartedly defended his virtue. "NANI! Trunks you pierced you're tongue, too!?! How could you!?!"

Like a rancher inspecting possible, soon to be purchased livestock, she grabbed the demi saiyan's chin and pried his mouth open to examine his lying, pierced tongue.

"Okay Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum here's the deal. You have approximately two minutes to tell me exactly what happened last night or I will personally call the police and so help me Kami, I will let you two juvenile delinquents rot away in the youth detention center until the end of time."

Trunks knew his mother now officially meant business. He looked to Goten, whom merely nodded, and then threw in the white towel. "We didn't steal the panties, that was Master Roshi and Oolong."

"Everything else, more or less, was us," added Goten.

ChiChi glared daggers into her youngest son and for the third time that morning she belted young Goten with the skillet.

"Trunks Vegeta Briefs you will pay for all the damages you've caused. The money will be deducted from your trust fund and I will not report you to the police," Bulma informed him.

"And you," ChiChi added, "will help pay for the damages as well, perhaps Bulma-san, you could employ you little heathens as janitors at Capsule Corporation's new sky rise."

"Trunks, if I had the Ki to, I would beat you in the head until the white meat showed. But since I can't…" She walked over to the phone/intercom and paged Vegeta in the gravity room. The two briefly conversed, and then she ended the call and exited the room to return only minutes later with a bottle of orange liquid. She handing the bottle to ChiChi.

"This should remove it, call me later Chi." The dark haired woman graciously accepted the bottle. Goten in tow, she drug the poor young adolescent to the family's older model station wagon air car parked out front, all the while cursing threats and obscenities to the youth and complaining something about her blood pressure as she drove away.

The Saiyan Prince regally strode into the house, nose in the air. Addressing his mate, he spoke "What has the brat done, that requires my immediate attention, woman?"

She pushed the article into his hands. "He made the newspaper. Last night he and Goten went on a crime spree in Satan City. Read it." Vegeta skimmed both articles over and put them back on the table.

Scowling intently at his only son, he stated in his raspy voice, "These accusations are true, brat?"

Meeting his father's ebony gaze, he replied "Hai, more of less."

Vegeta snorted, crossing his arms over chest. This enraged Bulma to no end, the man's son wrecks havoc on an entire city and he just `hmphs' and crosses his arms. "Well Vegeta, aren't you going to do something. If I had an inkling of your strength, I would put the little upstart rabble-rouser over my knee and spank his troublemaking hiney so bad that he wouldn't be able to sit down for a week and then after that I'd smack the taste out of his mouth," Bulma gritted through clenched teeth.

"Woman the Saiyan no ouji does not `spank hineys'. What would you have me do to then to the brat, the boy is excessively mellow for a Saiya-jin adolescent. At his age, I had done more damage than either of you could possibly comprehend," he stated matter of factly.

"This is Chikyuu, not some planet Kami knows where, out at the other end of the galaxy! Here we live by laws, not anarchy. All I'm suggesting is the boy be punished, Ve-ge-ta!" she retorted.

"I see…brat, get dressed and meet me in the gravity chamber in ten minutes." Trunks grimaced and ran up the stairs to his room to change into more suitable sparring attire. "Boy!" Vegeta called after him, "leave that sword alone, a real warrior needs no weapons."

`Kuso, dad's gonna kill me. I hope I don't have to stay in the regeneration tank too long. That slimy blue liquid tastes like crap! ***Shudders*** Man, I don't get it! URGH! Mom and her stupid Sunday morning newspapers! Damn Goten and that stupid bistro and that fucking Bulma Forever tattoo. URGH!'

After changing, Trunks entered the gravity room to see his father performing a series stretches. Trunks followed suit and began to do the same.

"Tell me exactly what happened last night." Vegeta snarled.

Trunks inhaled deeply and told the entire tale of his and Goten's adventure last night. He thoroughly explained the whole account, from beginning to end, only omitting the part of Goten's henna body art.

Vegeta smirked at the boy's testimony. He even laughed at the Yamcha/weakling fornicator fiasco. After Trunks had finally concluded his story Vegeta spoke, "I presume the tongue adornment is another form of this planets odd jewelry."

"Hai otousan…more or less"

"I see, and precisely how much in damages is your mother intending on removing from you trust fund?"

"I'm not sure, maybe eighty or ninety thousand zeni," Trunks frowned.

"I see." Vegeta walked to the opposite end of the gravity enhanced training facility, motioning for Trunks to follow him. They made their way down a ladder and ended up in the bowels of the gravity ship. Trunks surveyed the room in awe. He had heard his grandfather mention that the gravity room was a ship, but he hadn't really paid it any mind. He could see that through the doorway at the other end of the room was the ship's main control and piloting functions. In the opposite direction was a closed door; he followed his father into that room. It turned out to be modest living quarters, simply a bed, desk, dresser and an adjacent bathroom. In the wall there appeared to be a safe of some sort. Vegeta stepped up to the small safe, placing his palm on it. Immediately, it hummed to life, taking a retina and fingerprint scan. The door slid open, revealing large amounts of cash and jewels along with what appeared to be a silver, diamond, and sapphire jeweled medallion.

"The permanent dye you've applied to your skin, do you know what that symbol represents?"

"I recall you telling me stories of your people, as a child. And you always have mom embroider your chest armor with the symbol. I asked her about it one day and she said it was your Vegeta-sei royal family crest."

For just the vaguest of moments Vegeta's trademark smirk turned upwards at both ends in the form of a tiny grin, although it was gone as soon as it appeared. His only approving acknowledgment to his son's tattoo.

"He removed several stacks of money and encapsulated them. Handing the capsule over to Trunks he said, "Your mother gives me this zeni, as if I had any desire to frequent one of those shopping malls," he sneered. "This should be more than sufficient amount to reimburse your trust fund. Now give me your pledge that you will not make known to your mother or to Kakarrott's idiot spawn, the events that have transpired, just now, in this room."

"Hai, otousan. You have my word," Trunks promised. "Why father? Why help me like this after all the trouble I made last night?"

Vegeta chuckled, "Brat, your actions last night were harmless and amusing. Although I wish I could have been witness to the expression on the weakling fornicator's face after you demolished his air car."

Trunks laughed at the memory, it was indeed quite humorous. Perhaps in the future he could prank the man again. Vegeta closed the wall safe and went back upstairs to the gravity enhanced training facility, followed by his demi saiyan heir. He returned to his stretches, while Trunks made his way towards the exit.

"Brat, stay here. Your mother wants you bled and I intend to oblige her." Trunks braced himself for the onslaught of Vegeta's attack. The father/son pair spent the entirety of the morning sparring or to say more truthfully, Trunks spent the sum of the morning getting his ass kicked, oh yeah, the boy would definitely be shitting white gold tipped combat boots for the next week.

~*~*~*~*~

Monday at Orange Star High School…

Trunks walked down the school's crowded hall to his morning destination, his locker. He could see his best friend and partner in crime, Goten, waiting patiently for Trunks' arrival.

"So, I see you still have your ear. I like the way you combed your hair to hide the skillet marks," Trunks jested. "You know, if we really wanted to, we could so have our folks arrested for child abuse."

Goten chuckled at his friends' joke. "Trunks, we're gonna go out again, ne?"

"Dude, of course! We just gotta wait for everything to cool down some, first. Hey, dude can you keep a secret."

"No, but tell me anyways," replied Goten.

"Remember that hot chick, Elvia Darkdragon, from the tattoo parlor?" asked Trunks, Goten nodded. "Well, I called her last night and she wants me to come over next weekend so she can teach me how to use my tongue piercing."

"What do you mean? It's just jewelry," asked Goten in confusion.

"I'm not sure but I really want to find out," Trunks smirked. "And you know what else, she asked me if I knew how to breathe through my ears."

"Wha…" Goten began, but then suddenly his pubescent hentai mind grasped the concept of Trunks words. "Ohhh…" he blushed. The two began to laugh. It was just about time for them to go to their separate homeroom classes when suddenly a pair of small hands covered Trunks' blue eyes.

"Guess who?" asked a familiar feminine voice. Using his saiyan speed, he quickly spun around to be greeted by a pair of hazel eyes and a sweet smile.

"Britney?" he asked, very perplexed.

"Duh," she giggled.

"What are you doing here?" Trunks asked.

"I go to school here, it's my first day." Trunks looked at her, slightly puzzled. "C'mon now, as if you're the only one with a fake ID."

The bell rang, signaling that school had now begun. "Gotta go, catch you later Trunks."

Turning to Goten she smiled, "Bye Trunks' friend."

"What the heck was that? First Elvia, now Britney. What's next? Blaze as my substitute P.E. teacher?" joked Trunks.

The demi saiyan, mischief-making duo again fell into a fit of laughter. "Man, you're too funny, but I gotta bail. I promised man that I'd improve my grades and apply for Harvard, for a reduced sentence."

"And she bought it?"

"Shut up Trunks, I'll catch ya later at lunch, I'm out bro." And with that, the two split up, each heading to their separate homerooms to begin a new day; to start a new week… a mischief filled week.

.

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The End

A/N: Bad me, I know. I was simply too lazy to hack the chapters up when I decided to repost this.

Questions, comments, constructive criticism…lemme know at EmberMaxximus@yahoo.com