Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Piccolo and Powerade ❯ Piccolo and Powerade ( Chapter 1 )

Piccolo and Powerade

(by Sailor Taichichi Vegeta)

Another pointless, plotless parody of Powerade. Don't read if you're in a mood for flaming.

Disclaimer

Tails: *drinking* We don't own DBZ.

Me: And we don't own Powerade.

Tails: Except for the ones that we drank.

The sun beat down mercilessly upon the forest and flatland. Trees and shrubs withered up and turned brown. Rock formations fell apart without notice. A bubbling stream dried up in its tracks. Birds were too hot to sing. Squirrels and chipmunks crawled around in the dirt and made their wills. It had to be at least two hundred degrees in the shade.

It had to be at least two hundred and one degrees inside the head of Piccolo Daimaoh Junior. Sweat poured down his face in torrents. He tried in vain to meditate.

"Come on. Focus," he told his body.

"I'M HOT," Piccolo's body told him.

Piccolo attempted to stand up so he could train. It took a lot of strength, but he managed to split into two Piccolos. They took a step toward each other…and fell. Piccolo `re-fused' and lay on his stomach, gasping for air. His life passed before his eyes…he could see an angel standing in front of him…and the angel looked a lot like Gohan.

"Hi, Mr. Piccolo!" said the angel. "You look hot."

"I am hot," said Piccolo.

Gohan produced two bottles. One was filled with cherry-flavored liquid, the other lime.

"You could use some Powerade," he said.

"What's Powerade?" asked Piccolo.

Gohan told him, "It's a great-tasting sports drink that has all the vitamins and minerals you need to do your best."

"I'll take the green," said Piccolo.

Gohan gave him the bottle.

Piccolo stood up and unscrewed the lid. A cool spray rose up to greet him. He took a drink.

Suddenly, it wasn't as hot any more. The sweat on Piccolo's face crystallized and fell to the ground in a tinkling shower of ice.

"Wow," breathed Piccolo. "What just happened?"

Gohan opened his bottle. "I told you it tasted great."

A rare smile appeared on Piccolo's face. He raised his bottle; Gohan did the same.

"Let's go."

Piccolo and Gohan started to gulp down their drinks, uttering exclamations of delight.

"Yeah!"

"Whoa!"

"Ahhh!"

The blue sky was no longer oppressive. A light dusting of snow began to fall. Piccolo and Gohan, no longer hot, alternated between sipping from their bottles and frolicking in the pure white atmosphere.

Gohan had one mouthful left; so did Piccolo. The senshi lifted their bottles in a toast and finished their frosty treat. The cold goodness coursed throughout their veins. They grew colder and paler, until they suddenly became glittering sculptures of ice. Definitely not hot any more.

"Cut!" cried the director. "That was perfect! You two were great! I think that's all we need."

"No more filming?" asked Gohan.

"None at all," said the director. He handed them two pieces of paper. "Here's your paychecks. It's been a pleasure advertising with you."

After they left the studio, Piccolo and Gohan planned what they would do with their money.

"I'm going to buy some candy and put the rest away," said Gohan. "What about you, Mr. Piccolo?"

"I think I'll go to Vegas," said Piccolo.

"All right!"

"But maybe we should get some nourishment first."

"You're right. But I'm not really hungry."

"Neither am I. So, what do you want to drink?"

"Powerade?"

They looked at each other.

"Nah!"

The End