From Penguin Village with Love- Tale 3

From Penguin Village with Love

By Reid M. Haynes

Disclaimer: Dragon Ball/Dr. Slump is the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies, as well as all characters within. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.

Legend:
( ) Denotes thoughts.
{ } Denotes sound effects.



         Among the rolling hills of drenched, foreign moorland, a Victorian mansion stood silent atop the tallest of mounds, its loneliness pierced only by a sole candle in the windowsill. Illuminated by the firelight was a beautiful guestroom, with a closed sort of design and an open door to the hallway. Along the west wing, a series of paintings made their way along the West Wing, featuring a long line of dapper, yet potent individuals. And through the too-thin walls to the den, the all too familiar sounds of moaning ecstasy could be heard just beyond, inferring an abundance of passion and OOC writing.

         Inside the lavish living area, Bulma and Vegeta curled up on the loveseat, their scantily clad bodies gleaming glassily in the glow of the blazing hearth. “Oh Vegeta,” the lady teased lazily, a sick little smile coasting her blood red lips. “You’re such a monster!”

         “Yes, woman,” Vegeta crooned passionately, moving in for the kill. “And now, you will see what a real Super Saiyan is like.”

         At that moment, a shaggy haired guy bolted into the scene. “No, no, no!” he cried, waving his hands in a frustrated panic. “No Barbara Cartland nonsense!”

         “Huh?” Vegeta blanked out, completely forgetting about the abundance of manliness that he was supposed to be displaying.

         Bulma slowly crawled out from under the man, a confused look on her face. “Who are you?” she asked curiously, resting her hand on her hip for effect.

         “I’m the author of this fanfic,” the newcomer answered, frowning in distaste at the scandal about to transpire. “And this story is about happy, romantic poo-poking, not the adventures of Lord Sin!”

         “Poo-poking?” Vegeta growled, a disgusted grimace twisting on his mouth.

         “Romantic?!” Bulma lurched back, about twice as horrified as her mate.

         The guy nodded, putting his hands on his hips. “That’s right!” He turned back to the audience. “And now, back to ‘From Penguin Village with Love!’”

Tale 3: Little Date

*****

         On the shoreline of Gengoro Island, far from the everyday activities of Penguin Village, a lone construct shone in the early evening sunset. It was a medium sized warehouse, with a triangular roof and a frame built from a lax combination of steel and aluminum. Though it was far from a foreboding night, the shadows the building cast upon the overgrown grass seemed to suck away the pleasant nature of the locale to turn it into a morbid parody of itself. All in all, being so spectacularly out of place, it was obvious that this building had been created solely for this fanfic, and for no other reason.

         The young boy stared out at his town from the dregs of the warehouse, his hand resting on the windowpane. With a wet, slipping sound, he lifted his hand from the now-smudged surface of the class to turn towards the other occupant. “The night is falling, and our time is almost up,” he said, his eyes shining behind their glasses. “If we are to strike a preemptive blow, we must be swift!”

         His partner, a girl of the same physical age, slammed her fist against her palm. “Then let’s getta goin’, then!” she said determinedly, her expression fierce in the shadowy light of the warehouse. “Time’s a wastin’!”

         But the boy did nothing to encourage her enthusiasm, instead turning his eyes towards the collection of boxes and barrels. His eyes scanned over the containers, the labels reading ‘Gag Store’ and ‘Talking Poo Piles’. “Are you certain you wish to follow though with this course of action?” he asked her in a careful sort of voice. “Meddling in the affairs of others…”

         “I am a princess,” she declared, in a tone that was very ‘Daddy’s Girl’. “It’s my royal duty t’ watch ova’ th’ people. ‘Specially someone so cute!”

         He closed his eyes hard. “So be it.” When they opened again, they gave him a look as close to sinister that had ever appeared on the boy. He made a small fist. “As Kami as my witness, Norimaki Arale and Son Goku shall not be together!”

         The girl smiled grimly, and approached him. “No way, no how!” she said, extending her hand.

         Chichi and Obotchaman shook hands, their mutual grips signifying a forging of ideals and passions. At that moment, a bolt of lightning dramatically lit the sky behind the windowpanes, filling the warehouse with a pane of white light. {KKKKRRAK! KABOOM!!!} It illuminated their darkened expressions like the fires of Hell upon the Devil’s visage. Truly, their dark alliance was a force to be reckoned with.

         Obotchaman strained slightly with the added weight in his arms, aiming a cautious eye towards the girl. Chichi was shivering like mad from the lightning blast, clutching onto his spike-topped head like she wanted to climb on top of it. “S-scary…!”

*****

         The inside of Senbei’s laboratory was a mess. Cramped and filled to capacity, it was nothing like the labyrinthine complexes owned by the mad scientists in big budget movie productions and cartoons. To its credit, all sorts of odds and ends were packed into the corners and stacked on top of each other, most of them bearing some quality of ridiculousness. It was a strange, yet serviceable little hovel.

         “So if we just bypass the feedback loop, we should have enough power to get the auxiliary systems online…” The man himself was currently tuning up his most advanced invention: his daughter. Arale’s head had opened up like a can of sardines to reveal a maze of circuits and switches, each periodically sparking as Senbei poked a long, metal implement into her skull. The girl’s eyes were wandering about the lab listlessly, looking for something to occupy her attentions. Apparently, having someone tinker inside her brain wasn’t enough to get her interest aroused.

         “Are you done yet, Hakase?” she complained loudly, turning her head a full 180 degrees to stare at her creator. “I wanna play with Go-kun s’more!”

         Senbei grunted as he was forced to pull the instrument out of her neural circuitry prematurely. “Stop moving around so much,” he snapped, clasping her head and turning it back to face the wall. “How do you expect me to operate on you when you keep turning your head?”

         Arale basically ignored him, and continued to wobble her head back and forth. “So I’m supposed to be better after this?” she asked bluntly. “Will I have super boom-boom rockets coming out of my breasts?”

         He let out a snort. “As if I’d give you anything more dangerous than what you already have,” Senbei said, a rough scowl on his face. “This is just to raise your inhibitions so you don’t do anything too stupid.”

         “Like the time I showed Miss Midori your collection of girly pics?” Arale mentioned, a bright smile on her lips. “That was funny! Kyahaha!”

         “Arrrgh…” Senbei clenched his fists and growled in frustration at his creation’s poor grasp on…everything.

         The tune-up continued on after sunset, and the good doctor had to periodically wipe the sweat off of his brow. Time passed on as if through a sieve, but the night slowly approached them both through the sunroof that yielded moonlight.

         Suddenly, Arale spoke up. “Hakase, whadaya do when you wanna get a boy to do kissy kiss stuff?” she asked, staring off at the other side of the room.

         The man stopped his work for a second. “Huh?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

         “Like that thing you do with Sensei Midori where you go into your room and say ‘now my precious it’s time I show you my manly allure’ and Sensei Midori says ‘not now honey I have a headache’ and you say ‘but I waited all week with nothing but Cosmopolitan for company’ and Sensei Midori says ‘fine’ and you do kissy kiss stuff,” she clarified in one rapid burst, not even stopping to take a fresh breath of air.

         Senbei struggled to catch the gist of Arale’s monologue, and pondered over the words. “Well, you usually try to wear something nice to attract his attention,” he replied thoughtfully, rubbing his chin roughly. “And it helps to say ‘that’s not all that’s beautiful tonight’ or some sexy crap like that.”

         Arale’s eyes lost focus for a moment as she digested this information. Then, her expression went loopy once again. “Okay!” she chimed happily.

         Senbei, for his part, just stared down at the mass of circuitry that was everything Arale was. His expression was stiff and his hands felt stiff with all the hard dexterous work they had done. He looked around at the girl’s face, which continued to sport a gleeful, oblivious grin. Then he closed his eyes, trying to keep his thoughts in order.

         Her attitude was basically the same, but there was something in her eyes that just wasn’t the same Arale. Why on earth was his clueless creation asking all these bizarre, lovey-dovey questions? She never used to inquire about this kind of stuff before that Goku kid came around. Could it be…?

         Senbei shook his head free of these confusing and contrary thoughts. “No way!”

*****

         The night air was cool and refreshing, like a blast of water onto a desert survivor. With an absence of industry and smog producing factories, the stars were able to shine freely alongside a full moon. No one was quite sure how the moon got back up there this time, but the Penguin Villagers tended not to ask too many questions about these sorts of things. When you live on an island where your sun smiles cheerily, you tend to not ask too many questions about anything.

         Goku leaned against a palm tree about three blocks away from the Norimaki residence, the cool air ruffling his spiky black hair. Still wearing his Penguin Village duds, he adjusted the bill of his winged cap slightly so that it didn’t interfere with his vision. He turned back to the general direction of the house, and scanned the road ahead of him. Finally, he folded his arms behind his head lazily and exhaled a blast of warm air, wondering when his friend was finally going to arrive.

         A moment passed, and the boy soon saw a trail of smoke coming around the bend in the road. Goku squinted sharply, and made out a small figure running along the lines in the middle of the street. That figure was making good time to the rendezvous point under the palm, and looking like it would arrive in less than four seconds. It began slowing down, skidded on its heels for a stop, and arrived right in front of him with a friendly “N’cha!”

         Goku regarded Arale with a blank stare. The girl was lavishly dressed in…a penguin suit? Yes, it was a penguin suit, with stubby wings, flippers, and Arale’s head inside the beak. “What’s with the bird getup?” he asked her, his eyes wide and non-comprehending.

         She grinned. “Hakase said I should wear the best thing I got!” Arale exclaimed, waving her wings like the flightless bird she was dressed as. “Yup, that’s what he said!”

         “Oh, um, okay,” he replied, turning his head slightly away from her. Privately, he muddled over this strange cosplay in his mind. (She’s cool, but weird)

         “So, what now?” he asked her, recovering from this shock quickly enough.

         “We go to the fair now!” she responded enthusiastically, grabbing his arm and yanking him away from his tree-side post. Before he had the chance to object, she quickly pointed out with her other hand. “Looky looky!”

         The boy turned his gaze toward that which the girl’s finger pointed to, and his face lit up with a bright smile. Goku and Arale were now staring into the midst of a grand carnival, stretching down the road all the way to the Coffee Pot and beyond. All sorts of strange folks were crowding the streets, some wearing masks, some not needing masks. It was a very Halloweenish atmosphere, a funny coincidence, since the holiday was actually not too far.

         “Wow!” Goku cried out, shielding his eyes from the impressive light display it gave off. “That looks like a lot of fun!”

         “Yup!” Arale agreed, nodding her head twice. Then, she made a grab for his hand, ensnaring it within her wing. “Let’s have fun together!” she said, smiling up at him.

         Goku stood motionless for a moment, staring uncomprehendingly at the hand and wing entwined. Then, his gaze grew confident once more, and he gripped back. “Right!”

         And with a collective bout of "Kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin...!", they were off to the festival.

*****

         “Look at that little tramp fondlin’ my Goku!” the girl rumbled, her hands breaking apart some twigs in her hands. “I can’t staaand it!”

         “Please refrain from insulting Miss Arale,” her partner replied, holding up a pair of binoculars to his face. “Though I must admit, the matter is quite disconcerting.”

         “I’ll say!” she agreed, a pained grimace stretching her mouth.

         Chichi and Obotchaman were huddled behind some tall shrubbery off the side of the main road, their eyes narrow and calculating. They had brought all the necessary equipment for a childish espionage: binoculars, walkie-talkies, microphones, and those special sunglasses that have mirrors in them so you can look behind yourself. It was worth noting that Chichi had gotten new duds: some Chinese clothing belonging to Tsuku-tsun’s sister. They were light, comfortable, and excellent for moving quickly from place to place. (though she had kept the cape and glovesfor flair)

         “Lemme see that,” she requested abruptly, snatching away the binoculars so fast that they nearly left indentions on the boy’s face. The girl took a long look through them, following Goku and Arale’s distant forms. “Okay, so what d’we do now?” she asked, without looking around at him.

         Obotchaman put a hand to his chin and pondered this thought. “They should be arriving at the first point of interest at 2000 hours,” he stated, taking a look at the watch on his hand. “We will strike then.”

         “We gotta hurry!” Chichi said, standing up. She grabbed Obotchaman’s hand and took off after the duo, being careful to beep a distance of about 20 meters between them.

*****

         Every festival is an exciting time for the town that decides to host it. But not every festival lived up to the fanciful frolic of Penguin Village’s revered events. All around them, the various costumed and masked characters enjoyed carnival games like “Whack a Toriyama” or “Shoot the Moon.” The last one was particularly notorious for its bathroom humor, and as such, was a personal favorite of Norimaki Arale.

         Tonight, though, the android girl had more on her mind that simply one game. Arale dragged Goku everywhere with her, from the shooting galleries to the goldfish scooping game, laughing and giggling at the way. The bright lights and smell of hotdogs had completely over-stimulated her, and no one was able to stop her recklessness. It was a good thing most of the villagers decided to clear out whenever they saw her coming; at her speed, she’d flattened them to the ground.

         “Let’s go this way, okay Go-kun!?” she squealed, in a manner that indicated that it wasn’t really a question.

         “Slow down, will ya!” Goku called out, his arm stretched nearly to the breaking point. “I haven’t eaten yet, so I’m not as fast as you now!”

         But in her zeal, she completely ignored him while she continued to rip up the fairgrounds, quite literally in fact. Some of the stands were getting pretty sheered up by her sheer speed. (yes, it’s a pun. Deal with it ^_^) It was only when the girl saw something to distract her that she stopped this frenzy to focus in another direction. “Oh, Turbo!” she cried out, taking off towards the new distraction and taking her friend with her, clueless on how scruffed up he was getting.

         The duo arrived towards a refreshment stand, where a small baby, of all people, was tending to the snacks. Arale quickly dragged Goku up to the countertop to converse with the child. “N’cha, Turbo!” she said cheerfully, leaning an arm casually against the countertop. “I brought Go-kun again!”

         Considering this town, it was not at all unusual when the baby began speaking back, in perfect English that rivaled Obotchaman’s. “Hi, Arale!” he said, giving her a big, gummy smile and glancing over at her companion. “Yes, I remember Goku!”

         “H-hi…” Goku said slowly, trying to recall where he had last seen this boy before. Then, his mind supplied him with the identity. “Hey, you’re th’ kid that gave me the new Dragon Ball Radar, aren’cha?” he continued with more energy, smiling down at him. “You must be real smart!”

         “Heh heh!” the little child laughed in embarrassment, putting a hand on the back of his soft head.

         Norimaki Turbo, prodigy child of Senbei and Midori, had grown and changed since he had last met up with the young monkey boy. In addition to being bigger, he now had a full head of blonde hair, cropped into a simple bowl cut. Even at his early age, it was obvious he would grow to have the attractiveness of his mother and the brains of his father. He could still use a few more teeth, however.

         “Let my show you my new invention!” Turbo continued, going over to the back of the stand. “Daddy doesn’t know about it yet!”

         Arale craned her head over to look as the baby brought out his latest work. Then, her face lit up with excitement. “Coooooool!” she squealed, almost falling over to the other side of the counter from leaning so much. “It’s an ice cream machine!”

         Goku’s tail twitched in confusion. “‘Eyes’ cream?” he questioned suspiciously, looking at the object like he looked at every modern appliance; like it was going to jump out and attack someone.

         The device was not too remarkable, at first glance. Just a simple soft-serve machine, with handles and spouts. A second look, however, would reveal that it was apparently capable of producing twenty-two different flavors instead of the usual three. All of this was operated by a special switch on the top that pointed to several different settings, causing the three spouts to produce several different combinations of tasty treat.

         “Want to try pistachio?” the child asked, making a motion to turn on the top switch. “I’ve got it right here!”

         “Try it, Go-kun!” Arale insisted, pumping her fists energetically. “Tryittryittryittryittryit!”

         “I d’n know…” he said uncertainly, taking another careful glance at the ice cream machine.

         “Hey, y’said you were hungry!” she argued cheerfully, not discouraged in the slightest. “Tryittryittryittryittryittryittryittryittryittryit!”

         At last, Goku gave in. “Okay,” he said, conjuring up an outgoing smile.

         “Yay!” Arale cheered, throwing her hands in the air.

         Turbo smiled as well. “Two pistachio ice creams coming right up!” he called out, going over to pick out two cake cones.

*****

         “Alright, they’re here!” Chichi whispered excitedly, tugging on her ally’s sleeve as she looked down at her targets. “Get ready!”

         “Are you sure about this, Miss Chichi?” Obotchaman asked, looking doubtful. “I mean, just throwing ice cream on their heads isn’t really much.”

         “They’re gonna hafta clean ‘demselves off, aren’t they?” the girl muttered under her breath, giving him a frustrated look. “We get ‘em when they’re comin’ out of the restroom!”

         “I suppose,” he relented, and crawled over to the edge for a better vantage point.

         The two had positioned themselves on top of Turbo’s refreshment stand, where they had a bird’s eye view of Goku and Arale. They had bought two cones of chocolate ice cream, which managed to stay cold in the somewhat chilly weather. The plan was to dunk the two with the frozen treats, causing them to go off to their respective restrooms to clean up. Then, Chichi and Obotchaman would position themselves at the door of the restroom their love interest had gone in and wait, stalker-like, for them to come out so they could split the two up.

         “It’s the perfect plan!” Chichi puffed herself up with pride. “My dad would be proud o’ me using such great battle strategies!”

         “Let’s hope you are correct,” Obotchaman stated while pulling his cone up to bear.

         The two waited a moment longer, feeling the palpable tension in the air. The ice cream cones in their hand felt more like jagged icicles, ready to bloody themselves on any victim unfortunate to come within their paths. Unable to resist any longer, they simultaneously threw their projectiles at the victims like stealth ninjas on their first assassination mission. (Bombs away!) they both thought to themselves as the two cones fell on a collision course for Goku and Arale’s skulls.

*****

         “Enjoying your cones?” Turbo commented lightly, smiling at the two friends.

         “Yup!” Arale responded, licking her ice cream with zeal.

         “Hey, this stuff is pretty good!” Goku professed, holding his cone up like it was some awesome new discovery. “No eyes in it at all!”

         “I’m glad,” the infant said, nodding his head with satisfaction.

         Suddenly a flash of brown appeared in the corner of his vision, and Turbo craned his bulbous head upward to bring it within view. Two chocolate ice cream cones were enroute to Goku and Arale, seconds away from sliming them with a cold, sticky mess. But instead of panicking, Turbo simply concentrated for a moment, bringing his surprisingly vast mental energies up to bear. He gathered the energy in his hand, lifted a pudgy finger upwards…

         And stopped the two cones dead in the air.

         The child blinked a few times, and looked back at Goku and Arale. They were completely unaware of the cones psionically hovering above them, and continue to slurp their own cones as if nothing had happened. “That isn’t good,” Turbo said to himself quietly so that the two couldn’t hear him. “I’d better get rid of this!”

         With a quick psychic burst, he sent the cones flying harmlessly away, where they would do no harm. Then, he went back to the front of his stand, ready to tend to other customers.

*****

         As it turns out, Turbo hadn’t actually sent the ice cream cones very far at all. They had quickly reached the height of their flight after about five meters and headed back down to the surface. They dived down like little creamy missiles, closed in over the top of Turbo’s ice cream stand. Unfortunately, two kids happened to be sitting on it at the time.

         “I’m all sticky!” Chichi whined, a gob of chocolate ice cream drooling down her cheek.

         “Actually, I’m more of a chocolate-vanilla swirl type of person,” Obotchaman said to himself, licking some of the goop off his face.

*****

         Later, Goku and Arale were continuing through the festival grounds, hunger relieved and energy restored. Having been cooled down by the ice cream, Arale was content just to hold Goku’s hand and walk by his side, her face obliviously happy. Goku was calm as well, letting the girl grip onto him without complaint. Hey, maybe there was something to this touchy-feely thing.

         “Step right up, folks, for the greatest moment in your stupid, meaningless lives!” an amplified voice broke through the clamor of the festival. “Come one, come all!”

         “Hoyo?” the both of them said, looking over to the booth on their right where the speech had originated.

          “That’s right, it’s Crazy Akane’s Blast-A-Thon!” the girl running the show called out, holding a megaphone to her mouth. “Tired of your jerkwad boss giving you crap? Well, let loose your unbridled fury! We have targets representing every employer here in Penguin Village, from the guy that runs the glasses shop to my own sister! And all only for 20 zenny!”

         “Oooh, that’s fun!” Arale said, her eyes widening up. “Let’s go, Go-kun!”

         The boy nodded, and the two of them headed over to the booth. Akane saw them coming, and put on a friendlier smile. “Hey, Arale,” she said, folding her arms in a smooth, cool manner. “Brought th’ chimp kid again, eh?”

         “Yup!” she responded, nodding her head. “We wanna play the shoot-shoot thing, please!”

         The older girl pretended to mull over this, putting a hand to her chin. “Well, I dunno, it is rather expensive,” she said thoughtfully, looking over at the cash register. “But for you, just 40 zenny!”

         “Okay!” Arale said merrily, reaching into her pockets for the correct amount.

         TShe cheerfully handed over the dough, completely unaware that her friend has scammed the hell out of her. Akane snickered deviously at her fortune, springing the cash register and putting it away. She glanced over to her partner, Tsuku, leaning against the wall. “Set ‘em up, Tsuku-kun!” she instructed, pointing over to the fallen targets on the floor.

         The Chinese youth obeyed without hesitation, walking out of the shadows and tending to the targets. One by one, each of the targets found their place on the back wall, revealing themselves to the spitting image of many of the villagers in the arrow. Soon they were all set up and ready for play, grinning eerily at the participants. And Arale was grabbing her cork-bazooka and setting her sights on the most appealing target.

         “Better watch out, Arale-chan!” Goku said cheerfully, his tone not in all in sync with the warning. “If y’ mess up and hit Yamcha, he might use his Wolf Fang Fist on ya!”

         “How much time do I have to say it?” Tsuku screamed desperately, trying his hardest to get through to the dense boy. “I not Yamcha!” Then, his expression changed to an eager one. “Though, I be very much thankful if tell me secret of Wolf Fang Fist,” he requested somewhat excitedly, his eyes bulging wide as he finished his sentence.

         Goku only laughed. “You should know best of all, Yamcha!” he told him, much to the disappointment of the other martial artist.

         “No more talk,” Arale said distractedly, bringing the bazooka’s sight to her eye. “Shoot-shoot time.” They quieted down as the girl prepared.

*****

         “Are y’sure this one will work?” Chichi said from behind the shooting gallery, peering out furtively at her oblivious rival, who continued to adjust the bazooka on her shoulder.

         “It cannot fail,” Obotchaman replied, very self-assured. “Everything will go off without a hitch.”

         Earlier, Chichi had played Akane’s shooting game as a distraction, upon seeing it was a popular attraction. (since she was an out-of-towner, the price was only 60 zenny) This had given Obotchaman an opportunity to sneak a hand in and snatch one of the targets from under the carrot-top’s nose. Figuring a pile of poo to be the most likely target Arale would hit, he rigged it up with a special smoke-screen device that would dispense a cloudy covering upon strong impact. When he saw Arale and Goku coming, he quickly replaced the target and moved away to meet up with Chichi, where they could discuss the next phase in their plan.

         “After the smoke screen is released, we rush in and take our respective loves out separately,” he explained to her, making a few hand motions for emphasis. “We will say that we were just trying to help them and, in turn, this will show us in a positive light, which a great way to reintroduce ourselves as the number one person in their lives.”

         “That’s great!” Chichi said happily, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Ever’thang will be back to normal in a jiffy!”

         “Heh heh!” he chuckled lightly, a bit bashful from all the praise. Still, he’d rather be hearing it from Miss Arale instead. That innocent, completely honest eulogizing that came so willingly whenever he pulled forth a successful prank superior to her mischief. (Arale’s ego was not overbearing) But he trusted his plan would have her singing wondrous acclaims once again.

*****

         "Hoyo?” Arale burbled, putting the bazooka down and staring at the new arrivals. “You wanna try too?”

         “Peep peep!” they replied, their antennae twitching with enthusiasm.

         The Ga-chans 1 and 2 had just flown at the festival, looking for their best friend Arale. They had scoured the grounds up and down before finally bumping into her and Goku just before the girl was about to take her shot. Seeing the shooting gallery before, they quickly grew excited at the many toys they could win by participating. They had quickly propositioned Arale to let them take the shot instead, chirping in an incomprehensible dialogue.

         The discussion went on with a few more peeps before Arale gave in. “Okay!” she relented amicably, putting down the bazooka. “Go fer it!”

         The cupid-like companions cheered happily, waving their hands up the air. They eagerly set themselves up on the counter, and prepared themselves.

         “Hey, no freebees!” Akane snapped out angrily, shaking her hands in their general direction. “You gotta pay for those bazookas! 180 zenny!”

         But using the cork bazookas wasn’t what they had in mind. The Ga-chans tightened up, and a thick tendril of electricity began to crackle between their antennae. Completely ignoring the shocked look in Akane and Tsuku’s eyes, they continued to charge energy, waiting until they had reached an appropriate level of power. Then {BZZZTTTTT!!!} they let loose two arcing bolts of electricity out…

         …right at Obotchaman’s target.

         As it turns out, the effect the lightning had on the smoke screen target was a magnifying one. Instead of letting loose a dense but harmless cloud of smoke, it turned the target into an electrical bomb. {B-KOOOM!} it detonated, sending a blast of thick black fumes in all directions, concealing all from view. And when the smoke cleared, it revealed a broken and dilapidated booth, looking like it was going to fall over any given moment.

         Arale blinked a few times from the stinging smoke, then laughed happily. “You blasted it!” she said to the Ga-chans, who yelped in glee at the praise. Then, she took a look to the right. “And you got Akane-chan, too!” she added on, grinning even wider. “That’s great! Kyahaha!”

         Goku laughed loudly, a wide smile on his face. “She looks funny,” he stated, pointing out at Arale’s friend.

         Akane stood seething in the booth, her clothes completely blackened and her hair standing on end from the shock. “I really gotta stop goin’ to these things,” she growled, her teeth grinding together like some sort of ape.

*****

         Just behind the booth, separated from Akane by a few totaled boards, two others had also felt the effects of the extreme impact. Indeed, their clothes were just as sooty, and their face was like a seasoned pan. They had fortunately avoided the brunt of the blast, so they hair wasn’t quite as ‘Frankenstein’s Bride’ as Akane’s was. But they still managed to draw quite a few stares from the villagers, which was a considerable feat, since these people lived in Arale’s hometown.

         “Well, this didn’t turn out any better,” Obotchaman stated blankly, his glasses bent and crooked on his face.

         Chichi looked like she was about to burst into big, wailing, anime-tears. “I hate this fanfic!” she whimpered, her lower lip trembling in a very childlike manner.

*****

         The merry cricket chirps carried off in the slow breeze, bringing a twitchy melody to anyone within earshot. It was 11:15, and the slowly festival was slowly coming to a close. A lot of the booth workers had already called it quits, either to go home or to enjoy a few more moments of the fair without working. Most people did it for the latter, unwilling to leave until they had seen the final part of the celebration: the fireworks display.

         Atop the grassy hill overlooking Penguin Village, Goku and Arale looked down upon the twinkling lights, enjoying the last moments of the festival from a distance. The high-altitude wind blew their bangs back against their foreheads and threatened to knock Goku’s winged cap off his head. Their face bore bright smiles, obviously confident that their companion was right beside them, as they did not turn to face the other. Goku’s hand and Arale’s wing were lightly touching, though, so lightly it was obvious they scantly knew they were touching at all.

         Goku breathed in some dewdrop air, and turned his head to face his friend. “That was pretty fun!” he decided. “Almost as fun as fightin’ in the Tenka’ichi Budokai!”

         “Uh huh,” Arale nodded, rubbing her glasses free from the light that had enveloped them.

         The boy smiled. “‘Course, that game with the hammer and bell was too easy,” he said simply, absently flexing a chubby muscle. “I didn’t even break a sweat!”

         “Aoi told me their gonna built a new game for next festival!” she told him, pumping her fists enthusiastically. “Next year, even I’ll be able t’ play it!”

         He returned the smile ardently. “Yup!”

         The two resumed their vigil over the tiny hamlet of a town, enjoying the peace of each other’s company. The wind has since died down, and their bangs fell loosely over their brows.

         Then, Arale turned towards him. “Hey Go-kun, why didn’tcha visit before now?” she asked him, her eyes wide and innocent.

         Goku blinked a bit at this. “Well, I was kinda busy fightin’ and stuff,” he answered her, not seeing where she was going with this.

         “You should visit more oftener,” she stated, grabbing him arm and pumping it thoroughly. “We c’d be havin’ all sorts of fun while your doing your trainin’ thing! We would be together a lot!” Her face shone with childlike sincerity. “And that would be real cool.”

         As imperceptive as the boy was, there was nothing that could be done to keep the girl’s statement from hitting him to the core. Arale’s innocent words were not unlike those of Chichi, who would always force things upon him that he didn’t understand. And yet, somehow with her, he sensed this could be far better than something he just didn’t get. Who knew, maybe this’ll be as exciting as fighting Taopaipai!

         And in that moment, Goku understood.

         Regaining his confidence, he turned back towards the girl. “Okay,” he said softly, a gentle, yet strong smile on his face.

         Arale’s face lit up like a sunrise. “Really?” she asked him eagerly, a huge grin covering her face.

         He nodded. “I mean, no one said I couldn’t fight ‘n’ train with somebody, right?” he reasoned, half to the girl, half to himself. “I bet there’s lots of fun I can have being around someone!”

         He gripped her flippered hands tightly. “We can do it all together!” he said seriously, his eyes piercing through hers even through her glasses.

         “Hoyo-yo, that’s cool, Go-kun!” Arale squealed, a cheesy, clown-like smile on her lips.

         She squeezed back. And in that moment, a flurry of fireworks enflamed the sky in patches of red, blue, and gold. The couple’s bodies were awash in a fiery conflagration of color, turning them into Fluorescent Goku and Arale. But their attention was only on each other, as the two waiting for their attachment to reach an apex on the coming new day.

         And waited.

         And waited.

         “So what do we do now?” Goku asked, suddenly feeling very weird.

         “I dunno,” the girl responded, letting go of his hands. Stepping back, she reached behind her and suddenly pulled out a large booklet, possibly from subspace. The boy looked over Arale’s shoulder, and found it was a yellow and black striped self-help book entitled ‘Dating for Arales,’ bearing a very confused robot on the cover. She flipped though the material at a lightning pace before finally stopping at Page 177, the chapter detailing first-base.

         “Lessee…” she murmured, scanning quickly over the text. “It says here that ‘when a girl and boy experience a strong romantic and emotional connection, it may be a prime opportunity to share a kiss.’”

         The boy made a face. “’Kiss?’” he gurgled out as if the word referred to a gross species of extraterrestrial. “What’s ‘kiss?’”

         “That’s what Akane and Tsuku-tsun are always talkin’ about!” she exclaimed in realization, her arm falling to her side along with the booklet. “Whenever they do it, he turns into a tiger!”

         He raised an eyebrow in hesitation. “Sounds weird,” he decided with a small frown. Soon, though, Goku turned to look her in the eye. “But if we’re supposed t’ do it, let’s go do it!” he decided, his battle face hardening up his soft features.

         She nodded, whirling to him once more. They stared at each other from a distance of about one foot, not sure on whom was going to go first. Arale’s eyes were unblinking as she slowly shifted her weight. “I think it goes like this,” she said, and slowly leaned forward towards his face.

         Goku, frozen with a shock that battle could never give you, made a small noise as the girl moved in for the kill. But soon, he relaxed, and slowly closed his eyes in preparation for her to do…whatever she was going to do.

         And when he opened them again, he found that she had completely ensnared his nose within her lips. He watched with some confusion as Arale happily sucked on his nose as if it were the nub of a baby bottle. “No, I don’t think you’re supposed t’ do that,” he wheezed, finding it difficult to breath not that his nostrils were complete cut off from the open air.

         Releasing his nose with an audible ‘pop,’ she stared back at him wide-eyed. “Hoyo?”

         “Yeah, I think you actually do this,” With that, Goku moved over to the girl’s side and grasped her head in between his two hands. Pulling her towards him, he covered her ear with his mouth, and started gnawing on it softly.

         Arale clenched her left eye shut as spittle and slobber landed on her face. “Maybe we should try this,” she said, yanking her head away from the boy’s smacking lips. When he had stopped trying to chew on her, she walked around behind Goku and jumped on his back. Climbing on top of his head, she grabbed a big tuff of his hair and began to chew on it like a Twizzler.

         And suddenly, an irate female scream shook the grassy hill like the prelude to a landslide. “AAAHH! I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!!!”

         Both Goku and Arale turned their heads toward the blasting sound. “Hoyo?”

         Brushing aside the foliage she had been hiding in, Chichi burst into the scene, followed shortly by Obotchaman. Her cape formed a saffron shadow behind her as she approached the two. “How could’ja do this to me!?” she warbled, her hands closed firmly into fists. “With a floozy like her!”

         “Chichi!” Goku gaped at the arrival of the other woman in his life. “What are you doing here?”

         The fiery female ignored his query for the moment, instead turning back to her companion. “Look at them, Obotchaman, climbin’ all ova’ each otha’!” She pointed at the duo, Arale still mounted atop Goku. “They’re doin’ dirty things!”

         “Miss Arale…performing such actions…” Obotchaman was shocked speechless, his eyes containing a liquid mixture of hurt and shock. “And out of wedlock…?”

         “That’s right!” Chichi affirmed, stalking over to her future husband and yanking him forward, causing Arale to fall flat on her back. “The only one my Goku going to be marryin’ is me!”

         “Hoyo?” Goku babbled in confusion, staring blankly at the feisty brunette. “But wasn’t ‘marriage’ some tasty foreign dish?”

         Chichi lurched back as if shot. “That’s whatcha thought ‘marriage’ was?!” she cried out, her face turning all different shades of white, peach, and red.

         “Hoyo?” the boy said again, tilting his head to the side in complete bafflement.

         “Quit sayin’ that!” she hollered at him frantically, causing his bangs to fly back in his face from the sheer force of her voice.

         “I know!” Arale suddenly chimed in, her face all smiles in spite of this very heated situation. “I bet this book knows what marriage is!” Happy that she had found a solution, she again picked up “Dating for Arales,” turning to the near end of the book. The other three waited in tense silence as the myopic jinzouningen read though the final parts of the booklet, almost up to the author credits.

         “Take her hand in marriage…wedding reception…mother in law…” The girl’s muttering could barely be heard even in the stifling silence. “Hey, I bet this is something we can do, Go-kun!” she finally said, thrusting the pages in front of his face. “And it says here we get t’ have all sorts of fun on this ‘wedding night’ thing! Cool!”

         The boy ran a cursory glance over the material before finally agreeing. “Looks like fun!” he said, nodding his head.

         A shocked hush overtook the other two participants of this farce, and even Goku and Arale stopped to look at the other group. Chichi’s face had turned ashen, the blood soaking away to other parts of her body. Obotchaman was the very image of heartbreak, his eyes filling up with hot, burning tears. It was perhaps the saddest moment Penguin Village had ever experienced.

         “But…I was supposed to marry Miss Arale…” Obotchaman muttered softly, his gaze downcast and sorrowful.

         “Obotchaman-kun?” Arale said, for the first time showing something akin to concern.

         And that was where Chichi blew her stack. “You evil, purple-haired hussy!” she barked ferociously, approaching the other girl and pushing her. “You ruined everything!”

         “Hoyo?” Arale spoke, stumbling back slightly from the force of the shove.

         “Always thinkin’ you can just take whateva’ you want from people!” Chichi continued, pushing her again. “Not thinkin’ ‘bout nobody but yerself!”

         “Hoyo!” Arale cried out, nearly tripping over her own feet.

         “Well let me tell you somethin’,” The raven-haired mistress stood like the shadow of Death over the android girl, her eyes flashing with fury. “YOU WON’T TAKE MY GOKU!”

         And with that, she pushed Arale a final time, causing her to topple backwards. Since they had moved to the slope of the hill, the footing was too precarious for the girl to possibly retain it. Moreover, she was wearing a very rounded penguin suit, and this caused her to roll rather than stop on the hillside. One thing led to another, and she was soon picking up speed as she made a beeline for the prairie below.

         “Arale-chan!” Goku said.

         “Miss Arale!” Obotchaman cried out.

         “HOYOOOOO…!!!” Arale wailed, rolling all the way down into the depths of the valley.

         As Goku and Obotchaman chased after the tumbling girl, Chichi came down from her ravenous high, blinking cutely. Pensively, she approached the steep, grass incline, peering down at the fallen female. “Gee, did I overdo it?” she asked herself, putting a finger to her lips.

         Then a blue streak bolted from the valley, formless in all its velocity. The dark-haired lass watched as the shape reached the peak of its jump, then spiraled back down to the top of the hill, landing right in front of her. The costumed figure’s head was lowered, but soon it rose up to stare Chichi straight in the eye. It was Arale, scuffed with dirt, and as angry as anybody had ever seen her.

         “That’s not cool!” she yelled, waving her penguin wings furiously.

         “Well…you made me mad!” Chichi protested, her earlier ire making a comeback.

         Arale raised her arms in a pose resembling that of a bear ready to maul an unlucky victim. “Now we hafta wrestle!” she announced, making a face somewhere between intimidating and silly.

         Chichi lurched back a bit at this declaration, but quickly regained her nerve. “F-fine!” she said, pulling up into a fighting stance.

         The two rivals glared at each other heatedly, the anger between them making sparks in the crisp air. The wind whistled dynamically, furthering the drama of this timeless scene: the classic showdown.

         {WEEOOO! WEEOOO!} A squad car made the scene just as Chichi stepped forward, impossibly moving up a 45-degree slope on the hill. Making corny, puttering sounds, it pulled up to the side of the duo, about a foot from Arale’s foot. Clown-car style, four police officers poured out of the vehicle, all with comically grim expressions. “Cease and desist immediately!” Taro called out, whipping out a standard issue pistol and holding it out at the duo.

         Arale made a surprised expression. “Taro?” she said.

         The pretty-faced bad boy didn’t respond to her inquiry, instead playing it by the book. “This is a no-fight zone!” he explained harshly, keeping his finger firmly on the trigger. “You two are viable under Penguin Village law!”

         The foursome gaped dumbly at the man’s words. Then, they all looked over to the side, where a yellow and black caution sign was sticking up out of the ground, showing a crossed-out Super Saiyan powering up.

         “So anyway, if you two wanted to mix it up, you’ll have to find a different place for it,” Taro said nonchalantly, stylishly twirling his shooter before swiftly placing it back in the holster. “I’ll take my leave now,” Ever the professional, he swift turned about face and began to pile back into the vehicle with the other officers. Despite this, though, he couldn’t help a broad smile coming to his face, the very picture of department corruption. “Man, I love this job.”

         After the smoke had cleared from the departing police car, Chichi moved up to the other girl. “Well that’s jes’ fine!” she yelled out, pointing her finger at Arale’s chest. “I’ll meetcha and beatcha two days from now!”

         “Chichi?” Goku said, starting to feel really confused.

         “We’ll fight at the place I choose!” she continued, ignoring the monkey boy in favor of the robot girl. Wriggling off her right hand glove, Chchi grasped it by the empty fingers and slapped Arale in the face with it. “BE THERE OR BE SQUARE!!!” she shrilled at the top of her lungs.

         And finally, Chichi stormed off, down the softer slope of the hill and back towards the town. Obotchaman watched her go, then turned back towards Arale. His eyes held a quiet sadness as he gazed upon his true love, as if he wanted to burn the image into his mind forever. Then he turned to follow his partner in crime on down the hill, disappearing along with her behind an assortment of palm trees.

         Goku and Arale stared open mouthed at their distant friends…perhaps former friends, the way things were looking. The night was deceptively quiet, a wave of silence to cover up the dramatic happenings of seconds ago. “Well, fighting’s always fun,” the boy said blankly, blinking his eyes a few times.

         And below, the last light of the festival fizzled out, a firm reminder that the party, at last, was over.

*****

         Chichi stomped angrily down the sidewalk, her drive fueled by a stubborn ire entirely her own. Her cape fell across her like a flaming shadow of saffron flowers, making her silhouette strikingly imposing. The few villagers still out wasted no time in crossing to the other side of the street, or hiding in trashcans, or climbing up to the top of street-lamps. Perhaps it was best that they did; in this state, she could paralyze a stampeding steer with merely a look.

         The girl tossed an impatient look behind at her companion. “Hurry up, Obotchaman,” she insisted, quickly turning around.

         He lowered his head. “I’m sorry, I cannot,” he said quietly, his eyes concealed by the reflection of the street lamps against his glasses.

         Chichi halted in her wrathful rampage and turned completely around. “Whatcha talkin’ about?” she asked, her eyebrow twitching up in an amalgam of confusion and suspicion.

         Obotchaman hesitated for a moment, flinching, but soon regained his nerve. “Forgive me, Miss Chichi, but I must cease my actions in this affair from here-on-forth,” he told her, making a small bowing motion towards her.

         She gaped in betrayal. “Hey, y’said we were in this togetha’!” Chichi protested, clenching her fists in frustration.

         “This was before you decided on hurting Miss Arale,” the boy said, lifting his head and giving Chichi the first look at his fierce eyes. “I cannot participate in action against my love.” He averted his gaze to study the ground, and his voice softened. “Not even if it were to make her mine.”

         Chichi stamped her foot in childish frustration. “Well, ain’t that jes’ dandy!” she hollered at him, her voice shockingly hurt. “Fine, I don’t needja! I don’t need anybody! I’ll do it all myself!” And she took off around the corner, skidding like a racecar down a hairpin turn. Running down the sidewalk nearly in tears, she soon disappeared behind a building. Eventually, the boy could only hear a pitter patter of footfalls.

         Obotchaman watched the girl go quietly, a sad look in his eyes. “Miss Chichi…” he muttered, the light gleaming off his glasses in almost an anointing effect.

*****

         But Obotchaman wasn’t the only one observing the young princess at this moment. A little ways off in a hidden chamber, a monitor recorded her every movement, her every action. And the one watching this monitor was very pleased by the ongoing antics of this foolish foursome. Very pleased indeed.

         “Excellent, excellent,” the mystery man snickered, readjusting his smiley facemask. “Everything’s going according to plan.” Like a cliched evil villain, he paced back and forth within view of the monitor, keeping his eyes trained on it. Finally, he stooped in front of it again, putting his arms behind him.

         “These violent kids are just the ticket,” he said, and one could almost see the evil smile hiding behind his painted, jovial one. “They’re going to make me all powerful!”

         As he cackled menacingly, a small, red light in the corner of the chamber began blinking rapidly. This light was connected to a mysterious, monstrous machine, almost completely blackened by the lack of light inside. One thing could be ascertained from a brief look around, this “thing” was taking up most of the chamber, with only a scant amount of room left for its occupant. All that could be heard was the incessant beeping of the machine, as the little light blinked faster and faster.



Author’s Notes: How’s everything going so far? Does everything make sense? Did I totally demonize Chichi and give her the Akane Tendo treatment? Whatever I did, I still hope you enjoyed this fanfic so far.

Additional Disclaimer(s): As far as I’m aware of, Barbara Cartland never wrote a book with the title of “Lord Sin.” However, that could change…



OMAKE #2: Dr. Slump Terminology

Poo-Poking: This is exactly what it sounds like. You take a short, pointy stick and poke at a pile of poo lying on the ground, hoping for results. Alternatingly, you can take some poo on a stick and carry it around, offering it to anyone (Whomever) you can get a reaction out of. It is interesting to note that most of the poo piles in Penguin Village can talk, and some have very distinct personalities.

Robobitan A: Somewhat like a sports drink, this is the fuel Arale needs in order to keep running. If she goes too long without drinking Robobitan A, she freezes up.

Pinpon-Go: This is Senbei's flying machine, which he uses in order to either get around or fight a giant monster, when he wants to impress someone. It carries a wide variety of artillery, including everything from standard blasters to spiked mines.



Teaser: The paths have been chosen! The chips have been placed! The destiny of all four of our intrepid youngsters will be decided here, amidst the fires of battle! But what parts will they play as the mystery man makes his move?

It’s Arale vs. Chichi, in the final episode of "From Penguin Village with Love!"

Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^

STATIC

From Penguin Village with Love- Tale 4  (13+) Arale and Chichi battle it out for Goku. #1191887 by RisanF