Disclaimer ~ I don’t own DBZ, or Shrek the movie or the book
A.N. I asked a very good friend about the fur color of Goku when he is level four and guess what? It IS pink, so if you don’t like it, then that’s just too bad ‘cause Toriyama designed him that way, not me. Thanks for the reviews and I would still like more! That’s a hint if you don’t know. ^-^;
A tall figure in a flowing robe walked purposefully down a lavishly decorated hall. Her cold, aqua blue eyes glared out at the world with an air of arrogance and self-love beyond the considered normal amount. She had thin, pale lips that were drawn into a firmly set frown and painted with an outrageously loud red lipstick, which matched her extravagant nail polish perfectly. Her blue-green hair was cut just above her shoulders and hugged her head tightly, barely moving as she strode down the corridor. Her extreme make-up and gaudy jewelry only added to her vain, pitiable appearance. Though she thought herself a great beauty, Lady Bulma was rather plain looking without her mask of cosmetics and as for her body well, her hips were a size too large and her breasts were so small, one couldn’t tell if she was male or female without touching her. Of course, no one wanted to do that, for her temper was not one to be reckoned with. She made the meanest of the Ice-jins look like a harmless babe. Her cruel eyes lit up with a flash of enjoyment as she approached the doors of her destination, the castles’ torture room.
Inside the dimly lit, dismal room hung a young girl. Her dark eyes were squeezed shut as she twisted and writhed from her chained position, upside down from the ceiling. Her tormenter was a tall man with a large afro and little brain. His current method of torture on his victim was tickling. Her high pitched laughter rang out through the dark room as Lady Bulma entered, her lips curved into a sneer as she held up one slender, pale hand. “That’s enough, she’s ready to talk.” Her shrill laughter echoed through the room as Sataan lowered the young demi-saiya-jin onto a table. The girls’ black eyes seethed with hatred as Bulma mockingly tugged on her restraints. “Fight, fight, fight as hard as you can, you can’t beat me, I’m the saiya-jin Pan!” She teased. Pan shook her head at the woman. “You’re a monster.” She said. Bulma glared at her. “I’m not the monster here, you are. You and the rest of that Saiya-jin trash spoiling my perfect world. Now tell me, where are the others!” She yelled as she grabbed onto Pans’ shoulders and shook her violently. Pan wasn’t frightened in the slightest; in fact, she was amused. She smirked at the Lady right before spitting on her face. “Bite me!” She cried triumphantly. Bulma growled as she wiped the offensive liquid from her face. She walked around the table and picked up a small knife. “I’ve tried to be fair to you creatures, now my patience is at an end! Tell me! Or I’ll..” She trailed off menacingly as she placed the blade edge to the end of Pans’ light brown tail. The young girls’ face twisted with fear and anger. “Not the tail! Not my little tail!” She cried. Bulma smirked to herself and set the knife down. “All right then, who’s hiding them!?” She bellowed. Pan looked away and spoke in a defeated, shameful tone. “Ok, I’ll tell you. Do you know the Namek man?” She asked. Lady Bulma looked perplexed for a moment. “The Namek man?” She mused. Pan nodded her head. “The Namek man.” She repeated. Bulma thought hard about all the people under her rule, she faintly recalled a tall, green man with pointed ears and a surly disposition. “Yes, I know the Namek man. The one who lives on Drewry Lane?” She asked hopefully. Pan could barely keep from grinning as she continued to lead the Lady on her wild goose chase. “Well, she’s married to, the Namek man.” She said softly, closing her eyes in utter shame. Bulma looked aghast. “The Namek man ?!” She cried. Pan shouted out hysterically. “The Namek man!” Lady Bulma put a finger to her chin in thought. “She’s married to the Namek man.” She mused, unaware of Pans’ half-contained giggles. Just then there was a bright light in the room, as the door at the head of the stairs opened and Captain Juunanagou entered inside. He politely bowed his head to Bulma. “My Lady, we’ve found it.” He said. Bulma smiled approvingly. “Well then what are you waiting for? Bring it in!” She cried.
The guards huffed as they lifted a heavy, round object onto the wall and hung it in place on a sturdy hook. A drab, yellowed canvass was pulled back to reveal the polished surface of dark glass, the black glass that was the magic mirror of legend. A quiet gasp escaped the lips of all in the room as a bald head with steely eyes and a thin mustache formed in the smooth glass. Lady Bulma smiled at the trapped face. “Magic mirror..” She began. “Don’t tell her anything!” Pan cried out. She yelped as Bulma threw her into a cage at the end of the room. The blue-haired Lady smiled at the mirror again. “Evening. Mirror, mirror on the wall, is this not the most perfect Queen-dom of them all?” She asked smugly. The mirror paused for a moment before solemnly replying. “Well, technically, you’re not a Queen. “He had to be honest after all.
Lady Bulma narrowed her eyes dangerously at the face in the glass. “Ah, Sataan.” She commanded. Her dim-witted servant held up a small hand mirror and thrust his fist through the pane, shattering the glass. Bulma smirked at the panicking mirror. “You were saying.” She drawled out. The mirror stuttered back at her. “Uh, what I mean is, uh, you’re not a Queen yet, but, but you can become one. All you have to do, is marry a prince or a princess.” He blurted out. The Lady seemed interested. “Go on.” She ordered. The mirror let out a nervous laugh. “So, just sit back and relax my Lady, because it’s time for you to meet today’s eligible bachelors and bachelorettes. And here they are!” The mirror took on a game show host attitude as he described the first silhouetted figure. “Bachelor number one is a mentally troubled young man from a far off castle. He enjoys sushi and hot tubing anytime! His hobbies include cooking and cleaning for his older brother, and he aspires to be a mime. Here’s Prince Chautzu!” As the mirror revealed the small, child like prince, Lady Bulma was more than a little put off by his clownish face. The mirror continued on. “Bachelorette number two, is a cape wearing girl from Fire Mountain. Though she dresses in just her underwear, she’s not easy. Just get past her mother-like temper and see what a live wire she really is. Come on, give it up for, Princess Chi Chi!” Bulma had to smile at the lovely raven-haired woman that graced the glass before her. There was one more to go though. “And last but not least, bachelor number three is a dark, handsome prince locked away in a lava surrounded castle and guarded by the fire breathing monster Brolli; but don’t let that cool you down. He’s a loaded pistol who likes pina coladas and getting caught in the rain. Here’s Prince Vegeta!” The mirror showed Bulma a young man with sharp, obsidian eyes, wild black hair in a flame like style, and a regal, angular face. The mirror’s face then smiled out at the Lady. “So will it be, bachelor number one, bachelorette number two, or bachelor number three?” He asked.
Bulma tried to think about the choice, this would be her husband or wife until death after all. “Oh, oh three? One, no two. No, no three? Umm.” She desperately tried to think as her captain and his guards threw out their opinions on which one she should pick. Finally, Sataan called out to her. “Three, pick number three my Lady!” He waved two fingers in the air and then stopped to look at them as Bulma made her choice. “ Ok, all right! Ok, uhh number three!” She cried. The mirror smiled a toothy grin at her. “Lady Bulma, you’ve chosen, Prince Vegeta.” He moved aside to show the picture of the prince to Bulma once more. The Lady was quite taken with his dashing good looks and his wistful, if somewhat depressed expression. “Prince Vegeta, he’s perfect.” She sighed. The mirror suddenly remembered an important fact about the prince. “But I probably should mention the little thing that happens at night.” He said, but the Lady wasn’t paying him any attention. “All I have to do is find someone to go.” She trailed off with a small smile on her lips. The mirror tried once more. “Yes, but after sunset.” He was cut off by the Lady’s hand. “I’ll do it, silence!” Bulma smirked to herself. “I will make this Prince Vegeta my king and Capsule will finally have, the perfect Queen! Captain assemble your finest men, we’re going to have a tournament!” She cried.
Part Four |