This is a contest story

“Baboons go down easy,” Dikwik muttered, sucking methane and staring Vegeta down.

“Do you know where Kakarot is or not? Keep wasting my time, and I’ll blast you away!”

The Prince of all Saiyans was a handsome bloke, with a widow’s peak that hinted at an early bout of male pattern baldness. He wouldn’t put up with sass from space trash such as this man. When he raised his hand, a white-hot ki blast forming, the turtle-midget alien crumpled to the ground, shaking and begging.

“Please, sir, I’d never lie to you. I haven’t seen a Saiyan in years, not since the Great War!!”

Vegeta folded his arms and looked like he had a banana shoved deep in his earhole. “What are you talking about, fool?!”

A fool he was; a fool he’d die. Dikwik stuttered and regained his feet, and suddenly, he was breathing methane like a meth addict named Wallaby Jenkins whom Vegeta had met when he had been 26 years old in a space bar on Planet Frieza 104. “Years ago, two Saiyans visited our planet and saved us from a horrible tyrant! We erected statues of them ever since! We are loyal to the Saiyans, promise!”

It was too good to believe. Dikwik the turtle alien without a shell, mind you, but a methane apparatus that made Vegeta wonder how such a creature had evolved on a non-methane planet. Dikwik the emissary of a noble world of disgusting aliens who copulated in ways Vegeta would not imagine, led the prince to the balcony, looking down on the city of Tar-jeki. “It was more than twenty years ago,” the turtle fella pined. “They saved us from a grave threat.”

The statue of Nappa was unmistakable. The man who stood next to him was more obscure. His face had been rubbed to blank, polished pink marble. But his hair… like a Super Saiyan 3 (no spoilers for lil ‘geta’s sake tho)... he knew who that was.

It must have been during one of Vegeta’s missions with Frieza and the others that his monkey buddies had snuck off on a mission. It didn’t surprise him that they had played the heroes in his absence. “Who did they kill?”

“Our king, Peepdip the Great,” Dikwik said in a hushed tone. “He was a tyrant!! The Saiyans destroyed him and his guards, and we regained control of our planet.”

“That doesn’t sound like Nappa,” Vegeta grumbled.

“They gave us three strange little creatures known as Saibamen as a present. It was very nice of them.”

“That sounds like Nappa.”

“After the Saiyans left, the Saibamen killed half of our population and took over the planet. Their leader, a red-skinned ape calling himself Tunero-markat, was particularly fierce.”

“I don’t care. Tell me where Kakarot is,” Vegeta said with a little bit of venom.

Dikwik could not approve of such a request. It was raining lightly. Vegeta stared down upon the nobly-wrought visage of Nappa and the faceless power-level-of-a-Saibaman disgrace. It was really emotional. “So you don’t know where Kakarot is?” he asked the alien.

“No, we’ve never even heard of him!”

“Ack… why am I wasting my time with you fools?”

“Please!” Dikwik fell to his knees, all dramatic and such. “Save our planet.”

“What are you blabbering on about?”

“The Saibamen… they’ve gone rogue!”

“They have, have they?”

“Half of our population was slaughtered at their hands. Currently, they are occupying the southern continent, but we have been preparing an assault against them. I do not know if we will be successful. It would be better if someone of your caliber-”

How was Kakarot a Super Saiyan? There was a boy who once told him: ‘I’m not a slut, but who knows?’. That made Vegeta purr at night, and that’s part of the reason he so detested Yamcha. You’re cute, she had said to him. That was pretty homosexual, and had not Bulma been a female hominin, that would have been rather awkward.

“I’m not doing it,” Vegeta declared dispassionately.’

“But our race will be destroyed if you don’t help us!!”

“Too bad.”

Vegeta left that world quickly. He left Dikwik and all of his friends in pursuit of Kakarot. All that mattered to him was that Kakarot was found. The atlantic was burning. He was alone in this world of desire and express concern. There was nothing else a Prince of All Saiyans could do. He returned to his space pod, and once in space, he obliterated that fuckihng planet, that useless abode for useless sentients. To exist is to know, and hose turtle bitches knew less that Vegeta deemed reprehensible.

How had Nappa and Raditz saved this world? Had they been so fucking stupid that they had pretended to be heroes? He hated them even more than last night. “Heeeeeeeey Vegeta…!” a voice echoed in his mind.

It was a familiar name, but not one he wanted to acknowledge. Vegeta needed to figure out how to become a Super Saiyan. That female… Bulma… she knew just how to caress his emotions. You’re cute, she had said to him. He was a warrior, a man of steel, but it meant nothing.

He felt the ki warming in his hand. It was easy to destroy this world. But Kakarot… that fool was out there somewhere, training with someone. Vegeta knew what was going on. He wanted to reunite with the low-class Saiyan. He wanted to know why that bastard had become a Super Saiyan and not him.

“Please, my lord. We have faithfully served the Saiyans for years.”

They had served the Planet Trade Organization. He was done with them. A dead empire does not bleed. Vegeta produced a purple ball of ki and shot it at Dikwik. The bitch didn’t dodge the attack. He vaporized with a breath of air all of those who stood against him.

The magnificent display, which gave its thanks to Nappa and Raditz, was melted. Vegeta would not suffer their pride. He shot Dikwit ihn the face, ahnd the turtle alien died. No, he did notknow where Kakort was, nor would he find him soon, but at least Vegeta had managed to kill all of the turtle alien fuckers who made a statue of Raditz and Nappa. They were meant to burn, and so they did. Thus went the blood, to oblivion. They died and burned, and all Vegeta could think of was that Earth woman’s comments: You’re cute, she had said. Why don’t you live at my place?

He remembered placing the pink shirt over his head, suffering a slight no man should suffer. But he had done it all because Vegeta, Prince of the Saiyans, had thought of Bulma’s puse, and the hair that must be growing down there. In his dreams, he pressed his hand against her cunt and felt on hair. That was enough for the prince, Vegeta knew. That was enough for a real man.