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Launch's Souvenir is the second story in Life Is Not Just an Interval Between Kung Fu Matches. I added this story to the active roster at the very start. It was always a part of the collection. I don't recall exactly when I came up with the idea, but I believe it was during one of the rewatches for my 15 collection, Somewhere Between The Ocean and The Bottom of This Glass. In any case, I always considered this to just be a stupid little story, not super important to the Dragon Ball universe, but a fun adventure nonetheless. The fact that Roshi retained Ƶ30,000 of his prize money at the end of the Tournament Saga allowed for this story to exist. I don't know why the feast after the tournament didn't cost the entire prize money. Thankfully for me, this allowed for this story to exist. Also, the scene at the beginning of DB episode 29, with Roshi trying to buy panties for Launch in a random South City store, served as the basis for this one. He wouldn't give up after one attempt. No way.
This story leaned into the minimalist, karui prose style that I have been working on quite a lot over the past several years. I'd say the third scene in particular showcases this style well. Roshi is fun to write for because most of his shit is comedic or epic. There is little in between. He and Krillin have a complementary style. Krillin is more grounded than Roshi, but he can appreciate Roshi's lecherous nature to a degree, which makes stories with them more interesting than Roshi/Goku stories.
These are my notes for the story:
*11/15/22 notes: **decided to do the Roshi 30,000 zeni story this day **bare bones story idea is from 15 collection Tournament Saga watch through **this should be treated like an episode of Dragon Ball - 29.5 **episodes 28 (just the ending few minutes) and 29 (just the opening) are relevant here **Roshi, Krillin, Launch are the characters **first scene should be in South City, getting the goodies with Krillin(!); second scene back home showing her how to put it on; this should be paced like an episode *5/1/23: **Roshi wants to get these panties with the front completely exposed (like the ones I have), but Krillin points out that even blue-haired launch would shoot him if he gave her that *1/1/25: **some thoughts I've had about this story over the past week or two, brainstorming while at work: first scene should be in a lingerie store where Roshi and Krillin look at panties; the above-mentioned point about the front-exposed panties should be maintained; Roshi eventually settles on getting her chocolate panties; after paying at the register, he makes a pass at the cashier, causing them to be thrown out; the second scene should be on a nudist beach (clothing optional) they stumble across on their way back to the airport; they explore it, unfortunately finding that almost everyone who's naked is an old man; when the old men stir at the sight of a new naked person coming onto the beach, a woman, Roshi runs over to see, only to be disappointed by it being an old woman; Launch's panties melt here; in the third scene, back at Kame House, Roshi gives Launch her present; the chocolate has melted, so she thinks it's a dessert and eats it, much to Roshi's surprise and chagrin *1/31/25: **outline: ***scene 1: Roshi and Krillin shop in the lingerie store before settling on the chocolate panties; Roshi makes a pass at the cashier and gets thrown out ***scene 2: on their way to the airport, they come across a nudist beach, exploring it briefly, finding no women there; the panties melt but Roshi doesn't realize yet ***scene 3: returning to Kame House, Roshi gives Launch her present, which she thinks is just chocolate because the panties melted up; Roshi is sad as she eats the chocolate instead of wearing it *2/9/25: **potentially a cover pic for the Roshi story at the end of episode 15 with the seagulls flying around (3:39 remaining); this same shot is at the end of the episode as well *2/13/24: **woman's name is Manjiru, which is the Japanese for pussy juice **security guard's name is Koucha, which is the Japanese for black tea **security guard is a tiger man; woman is a card-carrying lesbian literally *2/14/25: **Crisp is a good pun but also based on someone I work with **Pipupi isn't based on anything *11/25/25 notes: **repetition of "nice" in the first paragraph **remove the napkins and have them be tissues instead **"that he’d be lucky to retain for more than a week" ---> "that he'd be lucky to retain into next week" **be more specific about how the beach trail splits off from the city, going into the forest **describe the woman's belly in terms of lasagna **Krillin's dialogue in the third scene could use significant polish
As can be seen by the first few notes, this was one of my earliest ideas for the 17 collection. I never considered removing it, as a short comedic story featuring Roshi's lecherous ways is always fun to write. My 5/1/23 notes reference a pair of panties that I own and sometimes where when I'm feelin cute and such. These panties are also mentioned in the final version of the story, although Roshi spends less time on them than I had originally intended. My 1/1/25 notes are pretty much what I ended up writing, though I later added a specific outline that reinforced these ideas. The 2/9/25 notes were not heeded. I ended up taking the cover pic from the beginning of DB episode 29 when Roshi's in a lingerie store.
Notably, I began writing the first draft on 2/13/25, so notes from then on are in relation to what I was writing. One thing I'd like to note is that Crisp was based on someone I used to work with. That person is no longer in the same department as me, but I still work with them. I don't hate the person Crisp is based on. I'd also say there was a light reference to a scammer in a Kitboga video named Chris that Kitboga kept calling "Crisp", but that is a tenuous reference at best, as Crisp is not a scammer.
So anyway, I began writing this story on 2/13/25, finishing it during the night of 2/14/25. Wasn't a complicated story to first draft. The third scene took me only fifteen minutes to write, for example. The drafting phase wasn't a challenge, either, taking place from 11/26/25 to 11/29/25. I was able to draft on work days, which is fairly rare for me, but again, this story is neither long nor complex, so it wasn't a big deal.
The thematic focus is on the recklessness of Roshi's sexual desires in relation to impatience and antisocial behavior. Karmic retribution is a constant in his character arc, one that I couldn't pass up, as revenge is one of the tenets of this collection. One could also argue that Roshi's lust is an addiction, which I would not push back against.
In any case, there will likely be little to say about this one aside from pointing out easter eggs, so let's get to it.
Story[]
The sting of the cashier’s slap left a lasting mark, yet did little to dissuade his fervor. Roshi led Krillin to the third lingerie store of the day, Silk Seduction. His blood was running hot. He’d promised Launch a present. With Ƶ30,000 left of his prize money (Goku’s fifty-seven full-course meals the night before had drained the majority of his winnings), he couldn’t be as extravagant as he’d wished. A cute set of lingerie remained well within his budget. Launch deserved a reward for her hard work. He’d make sure to pick out the sexiest pair of panties. Someday, should luck smile upon him, he’d snatch a peek at her in them.
The thought alone nearly made him bust a nosebleed. He had rolled up tubes of tissue and stuck them up his nostrils as a precaution. Preventative measures would be required in this treacherous lair.
“Master, how much longer are you going to shop?” Krillin whined. “We have to get to the airport. We’re going to miss our flight.”
He stroked his goatee. “Settle down, Krillin. Let an old man have his fun. Besides, I promised Launch I’d get her a souvenir. We’re not leaving until I’ve found it.”
The mingling scents of a hundred perfumes met them inside. Roshi moved with urgency until he came across the area where bras and panties were for sale. He was home. Oho, he was where he was meant to be. There were dozens and dozens of bras of various sizes, colors, shapes, and textures. Pink, black, white, and red dominated. He was drawn to the more risqué designs. Alas, those were the most expensive. Some hung from the walls, others were stuffed in bags (he objected to the notion, preferring those on display), and mannequins wore a prized few. He stopped to watch an employee change out a mannequin’s bra and panties, holding a fresh tissue to his nose. The minutes flew by. Krillin tapped on his arm, begging him to hurry.
“Settle down. Don’t spoil my good time.”
The mannequin’s unclothing made him quiver. His imagination ran wild; his tissues stained crimson.
When the show was over, Roshi wiped his beard and browsed the panties aisle for underwear befitting Launch’s distinct style of femininity. Satin panties, lace panties, panties pink and yellow and purple, panties with flowers, Hello Kitty panties, extravagant panties that could be untied from the front—the options were overwhelming. His heart pounded. His fingers twisted around expensive fabric. Krillin’s mumbling hardly registered.
He got his grubby hands all over those panties, feeling them, stretching them, struggling to not wear a pair over his head upside down. The fact that they were new and unworn helped him maintain composure. After fifteen minutes or so, he came upon a black-and-pink pair that was tied together on the front with see-through, flowery mesh sporting on both sides. Not the kind a self-respecting woman would walk around in at home. He liked it. A lot. The pinnacle of his fantasies. She couldn’t hide her bush in that. He wondered if she waxed. Launch wasn’t likely to wear it around the house, especially if she sneezed. He’d be eating lead salad for lunch if she caught herself in that.
Trying to remain tactful, Roshi moved along, though his heart burned for the rocks left unturned. On the back wall, a slew of panties hung in plastic bags with bright red lettering reading ‘EDIBLE’ on their packages. He required a new tissue roll. His breathing quickened, and his face grew hot. Going against his better judgment, he snagged a chocolate-flavored pair. For good measure, it came with a matching bra. Launch would love it. She’d appreciate their beauty, their taste. He imagined her wearing it while she cooked, the roaring heat of the stove melting the gooey texture and contouring it against her skin.
“Can we go now, Master? Please, we’re going to miss our flight.”
“Impatience is wasted on the youth,” he said. “Alright, Krillin. Don’t worry. I’ve found the perfect gift.”
He paid at the register, his eyes lingering on the cashier’s chest. She was a blonde-haired buxom lady of rather chestly proportions, the kind he’d love to reach out and squeeze, or, if he was to behave with a more gentlemanly air, stuff his face in between and shake about. His palm curled into a claw. Took every fiber of his being to hold back. Couldn’t waste another tissue in this economy.
She handed him the bag, saying, “Thank you for shopping with us. We hope you have a lovely rest of your day.”
“You know what would make it even lovelier? How about you and I take a long walk down the beach? You must be tired because you’ve been running all through my mind.”
“Sir, please, that’s highly inappropriate.”
He held up the bag. “Let’s sneak off to somewhere more private where you could try these on. Picturing you in them has been my dream. Oh, ohoho!”
Shaking her head, she handed him a business card that was striped orange, white, and pink. Her name, ‘Manjiru’, was written in a cursive, purple font in the center. “I’m a card-carrying member. Don’t get the wrong idea, sir.”
“Eh, what’s that supposed to mean? C’mon baby, how about we go for a walk down the beach, just you and me?” He glanced at Krillin, who stood sheepishly by his side. “We could ditch the boy.”
“I heard that.”
She frowned, whistling between her fingers. How she splayed them with perfect dexterity betrayed an ephemeral elegance that enhanced her beauty. “Koucha, get over here. There’s another.”
A lumbering tiger man came around the corner wearing a bulletproof vest, his security badge shining on his belt. Sensing the end was near, Roshi lunged at Manjiru, trying to get in a squeeze or two. However, the man caught his wrist, parried his advance, and dragged him away. Krillin sidled up behind, his head hung in embarrassment.
“No touching. That’s the rule. That’s it for you. You’re banned,” Koucha said, throwing him out the door.
He landed square on his chin. Hovercars zoomed by. It was a bright and cloudless day. The smell of the ocean was in his lungs. The city thrived while he sulked. The good times, the perfume and dim lighting, were far behind, memories that he’d be lucky to retain into next week. Roshi clutched his bag, regrouping with Krillin as he got to his feet. His muscles were tense. Rubbing his jaw, he sighed, wishing to return home and retreat to the television. He knew which exercise tape to play.
“Master, can we go? We’re going to be late.”
“Yeah, yeah, Krillin, I hear you. Come along.”
Always thirsting, never quenched. His existence held perilously in a sad state. The bruises Goku had inflicted upon him yesterday throbbed with rekindled vigor.
Downtown South City was bustling with pedestrians and tourists. Many were sightseeing now that the tournament had ended. Roshi and Krillin were swallowed up in the crowd as they made their way to the airport on foot. Not taking a cab would save what precious little prize money he had left. With the airport in the distance, scenic as the face of a postcard, they came upon a narrow path diverting from the busy street, leading to the right, down to the shoreline, trees and overgrown bushes walling it in. Naturally, they ventured down. Airplanes were a curse upon this world. He’d have to be wheeled to his seat in a straitjacket. A sign reading ‘ATTENTION: BEYOND THIS POINT YOU MAY ENCOUNTER NUDE BATHERS’ stopped him in his tracks. As a tourist, what else could he do but live and experience South City for everything it had to offer?
“Master, please, we’re going to miss our flight if you—”
“Quiet, Krillin. I won’t be long. Just a peek and we’re out of there. I know my limits.”
“But Master—”
“After all I’ve gone through to train you boys, this is the thanks I get? Maybe I won’t take you back to my island.”
“Oh Master, don’t say that. I’m sorry. Forget it.”
“That’s what I thought.”
A trail of sweat ran down his back. Suits weren’t meant for the beach. The sky was cloudless, the shore empty as far as the eye could see, save for a trio of seagulls arguing over a french fry. Where were the hotties? Damn it, he’d earned his reward. He was the World Champion. A faint wind brought salt to his nostrils. His nose twitched.
Around the bend, they came across a group of older men in their fifties or sixties drinking lemonade under umbrellas, their bare, flabby bodies coated in layers of wispy white hair. Wearing naught but their skinsuits (meatbags were an inelegant design), he wasn’t keen to analyze their particulars. They whistled them over, and while Roshi wasn’t enthused to conversate, perhaps there were women amongst their group lurking in the shadows. Hope had been kindled. Krillin groaned.
“Ah, ya, hello there,” said a rosy-faced man. “A pleasure to meet you. Welcome, ya. My name’s Pipupi, and this is my good friend Crisp.”
Crisp nodded. He had short black hair, dark eyes, and a tan complexion, hiding his chest scars by crossing his arms. “Afternoon.”
“Come, join us,” Pipupi said. “We’re about to play volleyball, ya. Drinks are over there in the tent if you’re thirsty.”
Oh, he was thirsty, alright. Positively fiending. Not for volleyball. Not for these hog-swinging fellows. “Any pretty ladies in your group?” Roshi asked.
“We’re a men’s team,” Crisp said.
Pipupi concurred. “It’s a guy’s day out, ya. We have room for two more. Our only rule is no clothes. Take ‘em off, ya. Feel free. Unencumbered. Trust me, ya, it’s a great feeling to be free. Too hot to wear stuffy clothing in this weather, ya.”
“No way, I’m not doing that,” Krillin said. “This is weird. Master, can we go?”
“Thanks for the offer, but we’re passing through,” Roshi said, clasping his hand on Krillin’s shoulder. “Have fun, gentlemen.”
“Try our lemonade, ya,” Pipupi said, holding his glass to the sky like it were his drawn sword. “It’s ice cold.”
“Thanks, we’re fine. Enjoy your game.”
Crisp’s arms remained folded. Squinting, he made a face as if he considered himself better than them for letting it all hang out. He was content to let him believe that. Arrogance left unacknowledged died a bitter death, a cold death, a little death. They walked off, Roshi swallowing to prevent himself from gagging.
“Master, we’re going to be late. We can’t miss our flight.”
“Quiet. Let’s go a little farther. There have to be hot babes out here. After everything I’ve been through, I deserve it. The beach should be a goldmine.”
They came upon several men lying on blankets or play-wrestling in the sand, and passing them was a greater relief than reaching patches of shade. He appreciated whoever had planted those palm trees. The fruits of their labor would not be forgotten in the next fifteen minutes. Further down the shoreline, they found another group of people. His blood warmed. He noticed the slender, curved frame of a woman, assuredly, from behind, her butt thick enough to be an ergonomic pillow. A turtle could dream. Hootin’ and hollerin’, he broke out into a sprint, leaving Krillin in the dust.
Spread towels, backpacks, and umbrellas marked the outpost. The place was rife with the smell of sunscreen. The group, seven strong, looked over, the woman turning to face him as he arrived in a huff, spraying sand every which way (some of their crevices would need a thorough washing down before they returned home). When she did, he beheld a perhaps sixty-eight-year-old woman with a lasagna paunch for a belly, deflated, saggy breasts, like a pair of lazy eyes that would make any man shrivel up, a wiry pubic forest, messy as a lumberjack’s beard, masking any sign of what lay beneath, and a time-worn face.
His disappointment was immeasurable, and his trip was ruined. No need for a tissue. His blood was quite cool. Krillin was right. They should never have come here. He regretted the young, spunky women who had chosen not to take the path he had. Luck was the cruelest mistress.
Seagulls circled over Kame House in the cloudless cerulean sky. Humidity was an ever-stifling presence. Turtle raised a flipper from the shore, welcoming them back. Launch was humming while wiping down the counter. A pot of tonjiru was boiling on the stove. The aroma of ginger made his mouth water. He hardly thought about Krillin. In familiarity, he found comfort.
“Oh, Roshi, Krillin, you’re back. Welcome home. Where’s Goku?”
“He went to find his grandpa’s Dragon Ball. It’s a long story,” Krillin explained. “Anyway, we had a great time at the tournament.”
“I’m glad to hear it. How’d you do?”
“I battled all the way to the semi-finals, and Goku reached the finals. We both lost to Jackie Chun. He’s a real martial arts master. He was unbeatable. Regardless, I’m proud of how well I did, considering it was my first attempt. I’m going to train a lot harder so I can get stronger than Jackie and Goku. My goal’s to win the next tournament.”
“That’s the spirit, Krillin,” he said. “You and Goku did well. Boys your age don’t usually make it through the preliminary rounds. You should hold your head high for winning a knockout match. Stay focused. Don’t lose your drive.”
“I won’t, Master.”
“Why don’t we celebrate with lunch?” Launch said, tilting her head to the side and smiling.
He’d like to celebrate, but food was the last thing on his mind. “Before I forget, here’s a little something I got for you at the tournament. A souvenir of sorts. I expect you’ll find it to your liking.”
“Aw, Master, can’t it wait? I’m starving. Do you have to—”
“Quiet, Krillin. Launch deserves a present for all she’s done.”
With a blank look, she tore open the plastic bag, revealing what looked like a mangled wad of beef jerky. He froze, feeling a cold tingle shudder down his back. The bra and panties had melted together into a horrid, intertwined monstrosity. That had almost certainly happened when they had taken that walk down the beach.
“Oh my. Chocolate’s my favorite. Thank you, Roshi. That was very thoughtful.”
With a smile and half a laugh, she took a bite, leaving the rest in the package. How his blood froze, how he cursed himself silently for letting a quick fix destroy his long-term plan. Alas, the feeble, false temptation of the exercise tapes called to him. He deserved a reward, craved that sweet release. He sniffled, rolling a wad of unused tissue paper in his pocket between his thumb and forefinger. Hollow victories were better than nothing.
Endnotes[]
- The name of this story is fairly obvious. Nothing clever going on here.
- The first sentence is a reference to the last time Roshi is seen in DB episode 29. I did this in order to show that Roshi was going from shop to shop, getting kicked out and assaulted for his behavior.
- I don't recall how I came up with the name of the shop. I probably used a random name generator and then tweaked the name into something appropriate for the story.
- This story would've never happened had that bill not come out to Ƶ470,000 in DB episode 28. It could've easily been written that Goku's feast cost the entirety of Roshi's winnings. Good for me, though, as I'm happy to have made this story.
- Tissues are often involved in masturbation (I don't use them, as I prefer recycling my cum, but that's a conversation for another time), while Roshi uses them primarily to stop his nosebleeds, which are symbolic of him ejaculating. Tissues are quite the thematic objects throughout this story.
- Roshi getting off to an employee changing a mannequin is typical of him. I somewhat based this moment on the George plotline from "The Pie" episode of Seinfeld where George watches a mannequin that looks like Elaine get undressed and becomes aroused.
- I'm quite fond of Hello Kitty panties, personally. That is the type that I wear most often.
- The black-and-pink pair of panties is a pair that I own. They are quite erotic because you can untie the front to reveal the prize inside. Still, Roshi was correct to move on from them, as neither version of Launch would ever wear them.
- I personally think Launch shaves her pubes, but you never know. Certainly, blonde Launch would. I could see blue-haired Launch letting it grow out a bit.
- I've never had any personal experience with edible panties, so I had to, uh, do some research on the topic before writing out this story. Roshi and I differ in terms of taste, though. I would never buy the chocolate version unless it were white chocolate. It goes without saying that Roshi was unhinged to think Launch would wear the edible bra and panties.
- The card-carrying member might be my favorite joke in the story. The colors on the card are the lesbian pride flag colors, indicating Manjiru, whose name means pussy juice in Japanese (and who has likely slurped up quite a bit of that in her time), is not into men at all. Especially not old coots like Roshi.
- Had a woman offered to walk down the beach with Roshi, he would have 100% abandoned Krillin. That is just how it is when Roshi's thinking with his other head.
- "She frowned, whistling between her fingers. How she splayed them with perfect dexterity betrayed an ephemeral elegance that enhanced her beauty." - one might imagine she knows the perfect technique for liccin puse. I'm sure she's had a ton of experience, at least.
- I added in the part where Manjiru says "There's another.", because it's insane that anyone would try to grope an employee like that, let alone two people in a single day. The Dragon World is a mad, feral place, though, so for the sake of absurdity, that line was necessary.
- Roshi is way stronger than Koucha. He relents, knowing that trying to grope Manjiru is wrong (even if he can't help himself). That is also true when it comes to him trying to fondle Chi-Chi, Bulma, and Android 18. The first two are significantly weaker than him, but he always allows them to batter him. That's classy. That's a gentleman for you. He has some self-awareness.
- "No touching. That’s the rule." - this is worded to make it sound like Roshi was in a strip joint. Cheeky writing moment, I must say.
- "Airplanes were a curse upon this world. He’d have to be wheeled to his seat in a straitjacket." - Roshi has been on several plane rides, but for some reason, he had a major freakout once, so that's why I added those lines.
- Roshi was probably going to visit the beach even if he hadn't seen that nude bathers sign. He's down bad. Bikini girls would have made everything right.
- "A trail of sweat ran down his back." - this is the hint that Launch's bra and panties are going to melt (although it's also common sense).
- Pipupi isn't really based on anyone (nor is his name). I just wanted to make the guy slightly eccentric.
- Crisp as I mentioned already is based on someone I used to work with who is also trans. As a side note, it's interesting that two stories in, I've already featured a bisexual woman, a lesbian, and a trans man. And we are about to come upon a group of gay men as well. Lots of LGBT+ people in my stories, it seems. I wonder why that is. Surely, it's a coincidence.
- "meatbags were an inelegant design" - HK-47 would agree.
- Roshi doesn't notice that Crisp is trans, so his bottom surgery must've been pretty convincing.
- Krillin was correct to be weirded out. I know nudity doesn't imply anything sexual, but still, asking a thirteen-year-old boy to take off his clothes is dicey at best.
- Perhaps the lemonade was flavored with piss. I don't know. I think Roshi suspected it.
- The guys in the first nudist group are all straight except for Crisp, who is into women.
- The second group of men, who are play-wrestling and relaxing, are the gay ones. They were certainly doing more than wrestling right there. They were for sure copulating or about to.
- "The fruits of their labor would not be forgotten in the next fifteen minutes." - just going to point out that this sentence is a concise example of my writing style overall.
- Roshi was harsh on that old woman. It's not like he looks much better. With that said, the body wants what the body wants, and because there was no blood flow as a result of seeing her naked, he couldn't force anything.
- Tonjiru is, at least to me, significantly more mouth-watering than manjiru, but to each their own.
- "He hardly thought about Krillin." - this line is so needlessly cruel. I remember during my reread of the story for the second draft, I laughed when I read this because it comes out of nowhere. Had to keep it in for that reason.
- "He’d like to celebrate, but food was the last thing on his mind." - a most ironic line, given what Launch is about to do with her bra and panties.
- The "With a blank look/With a smile" to open the third to last and last paragraphs was an intentional repetition highlighting the change in emotions and the sort of innocence/lust conversation going on.
- That tissue paper in his pocket will remained unused for what it's supposed to receive (cum). Very profound, etc.
- In the end, Roshi got what he deserved. A karmic theme is certainly at play here. This is DB Roshi. He never gets what he wants in DB or DBZ. Now, had this story taken place in DBS, I might've given him a win, as he does get actual wins in that series. Perhaps that's an idea I'll have to explore in my 16 story collection. We'll see.
Overall a fine little story. Quite like the fast pace, the developing karui style that is not really minimalistic in terms of simplicity, but is punchy pace-wise. Roshi is always fun to write for. His exasperation was particularly easy for me to empathize with, as I finalized this story during No Nut November, and I was fiending pretty hard while editing, as that took place in the latter portion of the month. Not that Roshi and I lust for the same things (quite the opposite, actually). In any case, I really like this story, especially the third scene. I will try to make sure the upcoming stories are of that quality or higher.
<---- Part 158
Part 160 ---->