Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Original Pranksters ❯ Phase 1 ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: Nope…not mine, as much as I wished I owned the Bishounen of DBZ especially those cutie-patooties Trunks & Goten, well sadly they're not mine unless you count the 53 action figures…err…that's besides the point, but um, Dragonball/Z/GT belongs to Akira Toriyama, Toei Animation, Funimation and others…Nope, not mine.

Original Pranksters

Chapter 4…Initiating Phase 1

By: Ember Maxximus

Fierce eyes of azure ice and noir obsidian spied over gray cubicle walls vigilantly observing their treacherous prey. His labored breaths could be heard clearly as the task of pilfering Capsule Corporation's mainframe seemed to have the equivocal effect of sprinting a hundred yard dash. The balding imbecile pulled a floral handkerchief from his trouser pocket, wiping the river of sweat flowing from his bulldog looking face and his shiny extended forehead.

"Stupid cunt, I hate her!" Saul arduously breathed through his teeth, "Screw that Briefs bitch, I'll show her and that annoying little gigolo prick of a boyfriend of hers, too. I'll be rich and laughing as this company is sucked down the crapper," his black beady eyes narrowed as his fingers henpecked away, setting aside top secret inventions and pending copyrighted material for his 'other' employer to be saved away on several discs and then snuck out of the building with none the wiser until it was just absolutely too late.

Goten gently set his hand on his best friend's shoulder. All plans be damned, Trunks was irate and coiled to spring like a deadly rattlesnake. How dare this bastard talk about his parents that way? "The plan Trunks, the plan," Goten reminded him, Reassuring coal eyes tried to extinguish the cold flames blazing behind iced indigos. Trunks exhaled slowly, Goten was right, but that still did little to deter his need to pummel the living shit out this jackass.

Shiitake adjusted himself in the too small for his big but office chair, leaning precariously to the left as his facial expressions contorted, a straining vein bulged in his temple. Brbrbrbrbrbrbrbrb-woooshhhhhhhh…The undulating roar of bodily gas reverberated through the cubicle, unleashing its deadly fumes in a twenty-five foot radius.

"Kami-sama, that sounded wet," Trunks choked, trying to keep the contents of his breakfast in his stomach. Goten's suffering appeared to be worse, his normally gentle eyes were watering in apparent pain, his strong hands covering his nose and mouth.

"I think his insides are made from mustard gas," Trunks added as the pair doubled over trying to remain silent but finding the normally simple task difficult in the office turned gas chamber.

"His farts are worse than Roshi and Oolong combined after a night of binging on Mexican food," Goten gagged, making a sour expression, "believe me, I know."

Shiitake rose from the chair, rubbing his distended gut, as he trudged to the men's bathroom. "Thank Kami, he's gone," Trunks sighed in relief, "I don't think I could've survived another one of those rotten eggs."

"I ditto you on that, dude, he's smells heinous, like he has halitosis of the butt or something." Goten added, just as glad as Trunks that the stink man had slithered into the lieu.

The teenage demi-Saiyan pranksters tiptoed into the lair of the mole. Goten clutched the can of tuna in one hand and grabbed the cup containing all of Shiitake's plastic pens and pencils from the infiltrators desk and ran to the small kitchenette on the opposite end of the floor. With Goten gone, Trunks began his task, starting by removing his multipurpose Swiss army knife from the front pocket of his C.C. janitorial coveralls. One by one the lavender haired Bishounen used the tiny screwdriver to carefully unscrew, although only partially, all the cubicles and the few shelves. With that only taking a few minutes he then proceeded onto he next task.

Meanwhile Goten had put the shaving cream into the kitchenette's small freezer and put the container of writing utensils into the microwave, allowing them to nuke for sixty seconds. As the pens heated, Goten went to the sink, dolphin friendly tuna in hand. Using an ice pick he pierced several small holes into only one side of the can and allowed most of the juices to drain. As the aroma of white tuna wafted up to his nostrils, Goten's stomach grumbled softly begging to differ about the intended plans for the tuna.

"So hungry," Goten whined, he brought his fingers to his lips sucking the tuna juice from them in starving desperation. Then the vision of the evil Shiitake man clearly appeared in his mind's eye, which was enough for him to wrestle his hunger under control. He had a job to do. A damn important job to accomplish and no amount of hunger would stop him. He washed the fish juice from his hands and grabbed the drained can of tuna and the microwaved pens, quickly returning to his partner in crime.

"I'm back," Goten grinned, Trunks had just broken the safety seal on the Tabasco sauce and was gingerly sprinkling the spicy condiment onto the dark the seat of the fabric office chair.

"Where's the tuna?" Trunks sinisterly smirked. Goten handed him the butchered can and set the pens back to their original place on the light walnut desk. He opened Shiitake's side drawer, sifting through the compartments until he found what he was looking for…double sided tape.

He removed several pieces of the super sticky tape, and placed each piece onto the holeless side of the tuna can. Crouching low, he carefully stuck the can to the underside of the mole's desk. Trunks and Goten eyes met, heads nodding in agreement to a job well done.

"Look what I found," Trunks grinned, holding up an unopened box of copy machine toner.

"What's that for?" Goten asked scratching the back of his head, a dumbfounded expression etched on his handsome mug.

"Phase 1.5."

"1.5?"

"I've seen the light, Goten-kun, I had to make a few amendments to the plan."

"Ohhh…" Goten replied. Though slightly confused, he still in wonderment of his best friend smarts. Trunks truly was an awe inspiring genius, only he could come up with these beautifully artistic and cleverly amazing mastermind ideas for pranks and mischief.

Doing his best Vegeta imitation, "Once again," he began, trying to make his voice raspy like his father's, "I am the Prince of all Pranksters!" muhahahaha he maniacally cackled.

Goten rolled his eyes, sarcastically commenting, "Whatever Ouji-sama, let's get back to our hiding place before stinky comes back."

Eight minutes later Shiitake returned, and plopped down in the 'tabasco chair', "I feel ten pounds lighter," he commented allowed to himself. He pulled a yellow legal pad from his desk and began scrawling a few illegible notes to himself. "Buy a house in Kyoto, restore my Toyota AE86 Trueno, get hair implants, marry an eighteen year old virgin with huge knockers, and legally change my name to O-" a huge blob of red exploded from the broken pen in his hand. "Shimatta!" he cursed and grabbed a second pen as if nothing had happened. In sloppy kanji he began to scrawl his dream name down, but this time the pen refused to work at all. He turned the pen upside down shaking it vigorously. Only this time the ink detonated from its spout and nailed him square between his beady black eyes.

He jumped up cursing, "Kami-sama! Is it too much to ask for to just change my name to Obiwan Kanobi?" He wiped the ink from his forehead only managing to successfully smear it across his brow and all over the back of his hand. Saul jerked open his desk drawer and grabbed his lucky pen, the one where the swimsuit clad lady garments fall off when it's held upright.

He scratched down the kanji onto the paper and exhaled deeply. "Just one more day. Just one more day." He reminded himself as he studied the naked woman encased in the pen. His eyes crossed as he held the pen up, hypnotized by her perky breasts and the V shape tuft of black hair at the apex of her thighs. "Come to Poppa," his lecherous voice sighed as his hands smoothed over the pen. Slowly Shiitake eyes glazed over as his mind drifted away to fantasyland. That place where his ecchi daydreams where reality and all womankind revered him as the symbol of wanton studiless; the ultimate representation of desire and sex complete in the package known as Saul Shiitake A.K.A Obiwan Kanobi. In this reverie he was king.

Trunks and Goten watched the scene unroll before them, "It's like watching a Saturday Night Live skit!" Trunks loudly whispered, clutching his side as he tried to hold back the need to fall to the ground laughing.

"I got first dibs on that pen," Goten somberly declared.

"Dude that's nasty, he's already groped the pen where else do you think it's been?"

"Don't care. I have a super resistant Saiyan immune system," Goten proudly announced, "Besides, Mom has bleach."

"Whatever," Trunks rolled his eyes, grabbing Goten's upper arm. "C'mon…phase 1.5, remember."

"Oh…right," the younger demi-Saiyan agreed. Copy toner in hand the pair snuck to the bathroom to initiate Phase 1.5 as the Phase 1 began taking effect on the unfortunate Mr. Shiitake.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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A/N: Hello, hello, hello. I'm back and settled in. I finally got my internet two weeks ago **hugs'puter** so hopefully I can begin to update more regularly. And as always, reviews are appreciated, they inspire my muses (Eva, Conchita, & Bob…yep, they have names) more than imaginable. Also, I've decided to set up shop at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/CompulsiveOtaku/ since I totally lack any 'puter saviness and the web page is entirely too much work, ff.net's rating restrictions, and mm.org's access problems. It's is pretty much a user friendly version of 'Anime Anonymous' with my fanfics, fanart, doujinshi, mb, images, links, early updates and whatnot. Umm...I guess that's it, see you next chapter. ^_^

Err…ff.net won't display my link, so please see my author profile ^_^