Disclaimer: I don not own DragonBall Z.

Author's notes: For those of you who've read Mischief Makers, this story takes place two weeks after that story concluded and one week after the events of Thank You, Mrs. Robinson. For those of you who've read neither, this story focuses on the elaborate punishment detail in which Bulma & ChiChi hand down to Trunks & Goten for their wild night of mischief.

THE ORIGINAL PRANKSTERS…A Mischief Makers Continuation

Chapter 1…Why Me?

By: Ember Maxximus

Late Friday Afternoon…

"Trunks Vegeta Briefs," she grumbled aloud to herself. "Wayward Teenager. Disobedient adolescent. Unruly brat. Thorn in my side. Pain in my ass. Why? Why, does he behave as if the rules do not apply to him? That little heathen is simply too smart for his own good."

The strikingly beautiful Capsule Corporation heiress fumed as she pounded away on her keyboard.

"To think that the boy had the gall and the testicular fortitude to attempt to pull the wool over my eyes in such a deceitful manner. Simply disgraceful. Where did I fail as a mother? I am giving, nurturing, and loving. He's never left wanting. I just don't understand."

Her thought process was interrupted as her personal assistant's voice spoke through the intercom. "Ms. Briefs?"

"Yes, Alexa, what is it?" she asked, somewhat irritated. She was having a terrible day and couldn't help but to take her frustrations out on those around her. She had meetings to attend, a presentation to write, a son to punish, and to top it all off today was the first day of her period.

"Mr. Shiitake is here to see you," the secretary nervously spoke to Bulma, the CEO/President of Capsule Corporation.

"Fine, send him in," she snapped. Mr. Shiitake, the brown nosing lab manager of the special inventions department, entered the massive office of Ms. Bulma Briefs. She looked up at overweight balding man questionably, aggravation plainly written across her normally cheerful face. "What do you need, Mr. Shiitake?" she sharply asked.

The man nervously fidgeted with the pocket of his starched white lab coat, the poor baka was terrified of her. "Um, well, um…as you know the majority of my team is out with a virus and I wanted to come in this weekend and get caught up on everything. There are deadlines, and filing, and research papers to typ-"

"Mr. Shiitake, you are the department head," she stated matter-of-factly. "If you choose to work on your off day, that's fine. It is not necessary for you to ask me these things because you are the department head and lab manager. Understand."

"I see. I'll just show myself out," he mumbled to the floor. Bulma didn't acknowledge him as he left. She chose to continue her frantic typing as if he never interrupted her with such foolish nonsense to begin with.

"Cheeseburger eater." She said once he was gone.

Mr. Shiitake exited the massive office via the large cherry door entrance. He waddled down the hallway mumbling what seemed to be obscenities beneath his breath, although one word could be distinctly heard above the rest. Bitch.

~*~*~*~*~

Early Saturday Morning

Erotic dreams of seduction and pleasure filled the lavender locked bishounen's sleeping mind as he slumbered into the early Saturday morning. Gentle caresses of skilled hands and fervently heated kisses of an eve less than one week ago. The friction of two sweat slicked bodies moving as one. Her touch was forever imprinted in his memory, a symbol of innocence lost and manhood found. "Elvia," he whispered into the pillow as his reverie became more intense.

"Trunks wake up!" Bulma fussed at her son. Wearily, he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Here, put these on and meet me downstairs in twenty minutes," she tossed a large pair faded blue coveralls, which read Capsule Corporation Janitorial Staff across the back in black embroidered letters, at him. Trunks rubbed his sleepy eyes and studied the garment Bulma ordered him to wear.

"Mom, why do I need to put this on? You need help in the lab or something?" he groggily asked as he held the coveralls up, eyeing them suspiciously.

"Of course not, I have a perfectly fine lab team working for me, but Bubba Ray, the janitor is on a well deserved vacation this week. Now get dressed I'll see you downstairs."

Tiredly he stumbled down the stairs in his oversized janitorial staff coveralls. Wiping the eye boogers from his sleepy baby blues, he ventured into the den to discover Goten, his partner in crime and best friend clad in identical garbs.

"Hey dude," Goten glumly greeted Trunks As he slouched deeper into his seat.

"'Sup,"he answered, taking a seat beside Goten on the plush hunter green leather sectional.

"Man, this sucks. I can't believe we have to clean all eighty-six bathrooms of the Capsule Corporation high rise."

"Nani!?!" Trunks asked in downright disbelief.

"You didn't know," he replied, looking skeptically at his friend. "Dude, mom has been ragging me all week about it, rubbing it in my face." Goten informed him, then in his best ChiChi imitation, he began, "Serves you right, Son Goten, your brother would've never in his wildest dreams shamed me as you have. Maybe now, you'll think before you decide to go out and break the law and desecrate your skin with fifth." His mock ChiChi voice sounded so much like the original that it was just plain scary.

"No dude, she just told me this morning, woke me up from a really great dream about El…er…um…elephants…Damn! Now we've got to clean all those baka bathrooms," he changed the subject hoping Goten wouldn't ask about his dream.

"Hey Trunks." Goten turned sideways in his seat to face his friend.

"Huh?" He answered, crossing his fingers that Goten wouldn't ask about that.

"Do me a favor dude," Trunks released a sigh of relief, great…topic avoided.

"Sure," He turned to face his friend as well.

"Can you look into my ear and see if it's clogged with mass quantities of earwax and if it is can I have a Q-Tip." Trunks looked at Goten with a look of sheer puzzlement, then Goten quickly added, "Had nice dreams about elephants, eh?"

"Err, I'll tell you about it later." Then a mischievously glint began to form in Trunks' eyes which then grew into a matching smirk. "If mom comes in stall her, I've got an idea."

"Wait, I can't deal with any more of your bright ideas, you're always getting me in trouble," he whined, grabbing Trunks arm pleadingly.

"Shut up! Quit being a baby, just stall her." Trunks nimbly hopped from his seat on the sofa and sprinted down the adjoining hallway. Moments later Trunks mother, Bulma, sauntered into the den looking positively stunning in her navy blazer and matching mid thigh length skirt. Goten couldn't help but be in awe of her long toned legs. The way she walked, each and every step she took was graceful and beautiful. He continued to admire her attractiveness… the way her Nine West black pumps accentuated her calves and the way her those calve muscles flexed as she walked closer and closer. She is simply breathtaking, the epitome of beauty.

"Chikyuu to Goten!" she yelled, snapping her fingers in front of his glazed over black eyes.

"I said here is Trunks and your lunches." She grabbed his sweaty palm placing two capsules into it. Hands on hips, she glared at Goten then snapped, "Okay Tweedle Dum, where's Tweedle Dee?"

Goten looked around nervously, never being able to lie quite as convincingly as Trunks, he bit his lower lip and prayed to Kami that Trunks would rear his lilac locked head and save him from Bulma's interrogation, but it seemed that the fates were against him this early Saturday morning so he did what came naturally, simply feigned absentmindedness "What's a Tweedle Dee and why'd you call me Tweedle Dum. It's not nice to call people stupid, Ms. Briefs."

"Stupid?" she asked, surprised at his comments.

"You called me Tweddle Dum. I don't wear tweed and I'm not dumb," said Goten, crossing his arm's over his broad chest defensively.

"Whatever," Bulma skeptically looked at Goten as if he had suddenly sprouted a second head. "Where's your partner in crime?" she asked again losing patience.

"Partner in crime?" Goten slowly repeated her, deliberately pretending to be a few cents short of a dollar until Trunks returned.

"Trunks! Goten, has he come downstairs yet?" she asked very irritated. She was no fool and her maternal instincts were screaming at her that something just wasn't right. Goten took a deep breath, opening his mouth to speak when out of the blue, Trunks magically appeared at the foot of the stairs.

"Hey mom, I had to brush my teeth," he beamed in the most innocent smile that he could muster.

"It's time to leave, let's go." Bulma stated and the trio walked outside into the crisp fresh morning air. It truly was a beautiful day. There were birds were singing in melodious rhapsody, a tribute to mother nature. Morning dew blanketed the green grass like a lover's embrace and the golden sun seemed to float in the nearly cloudless sky and the demi saiyan duo could think of a thousand and one other things to do on this lovely Saturday morning besides cleaning eighty-six disgustingly nasty bathrooms at the Capsule Corporation high rise downtown.

She nonchalantly tossed capsule #93 onto the driveway and when the thick cloud of smoke disappeared a shiny red Viper Capsule air car was visible.

"Everybody in, let's go," she commanded the reluctant janitors. Turning the key, the powerful engine roared to life along with the custom Kenwood sound system that surprising was basing Garth Brooks' Pina Colada song from the giant speakers. Goten hung his head in shame of memories two weeks prior that the song brought to the surface of his mind. Ignoring her passengers, she placed her Dixie Chicks CD into the stereo system bobbing her head to the rhythm and singing along loudly to 'Goodbye Earl'.

Trunks rolled his eyes at his mother's musical preferences. Once upon a time she used to be cool, in fact she was the person whom instilled his love for good rock music. He grew up listening to Ozzy, AC/DC, Fleetwood Mac, and Areosmith. How she went from that to Dixie Chicks was a mystery that could reasonably be classified into the ranks of the Loch Ness Monster and the Sphinx. Trunks slipped his headphones on over his ears and cranked up the volume on his Korn CD in attempts to drown out Bulma's heinous singing and Dixie Chicks' lyrics about condemning murder of idiot husbands named Earl.

'Why Me?' Trunks thought as his over active imagination envisioned his very own royal hands elbow deep scrubbing fecal matter from filthy commodes that reeked of urine, then to finish that task only to have to deal with little white tine trash cans overflowing with snot tissues, used sanitary napkins and tampon applicators. Swallowing down the rising bile in his throat he chased away the daymare with plans of outsmarting dear ol' mom and possibly a quality prank, or two, or three while he was at it. He rubbed the capsule case tucked away in his left breast zippered pocket and deviously smirked. Perhaps this Saturday would not be a complete waste after all…

TO BE CONTINUED…

Author's notes: Hehehehe…so what's that that lil' Trunksie's got hidden in his pocket and what sort of evil pranks does he plan on pulling on those souls unfortunate enough to cross his path…stay tuned and find out. And lemme know what 'cha think so far, the feedback does wonders for my creative juices.

~Ember Maxximus