Jan-ken PUNCH!

By Reid M. Haynes

Disclaimer: Dragon Ball/Dr. Slump are the properties 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 thought.
{ } Denotes sound effects.
[ ] Denotes song lyrics/opening monologue.

Tale 4: The City With Sight Within! Part 2

*****

"But I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t wanna drink!" Goku persisted, looking pleadingly to the grungy men who harassed him. "Cancha jus’ give it to someone else?"

"Nonsense!" the black man leered, thrusting the bottle into his face. "Kid like you’s gotta get a shot in sooner or later."

"Yeah, so chuggit down," the blondie joined in, folding his arms confidently. "It’s not like it’s gonna kill ya."
"But Grandpa said that drinkin’ too much can mess up your martial arts moves." he argued, then stopped suddenly at a thought. "’Course, the ol’ man did have a lot of sake in the evenings..." Goku stroked his chin thoughtfully. "But then again, he’s dead now, so that dosen’t really say much."

"Quit wastin’ our time, laddie!" the orange-haired one pushed yet another drink in his face, making an angry face. "You’re drink the stuff, or we’ll shove it down your throat!"

Goku took a long look at his antagonist, his eyes wide. Then, his surprise slowly melted into cold anger. His hand grew stiff as he cocked his arm.

"I...said...NO!" {BAP!} he then slapped the mug out of the redhead’s startled grasp, sending it careening in an arc that {KKKSSH!} shattered against the alcohol stained floor, sending a hundred pieces scattering along the wood floor.

"Whooo, angel boy’s getting’ hot!" the black man sneered, laughing at the little fireball. "You wanna go down, little man?"

Goku’s face remained stone as his fists curled into the Jan-ken stance. "Come on," he challenged, scooting closer to the other. "I’ll show ya how t’ really get smashed!"

The man laughed. "Step up, bud," he sneered, flexing his fingers. "I’ve give you some downtown fun."

The blond one moved up as well "That goes double for me! We’ll show you!"

The barroom combatants stared each other down, four soggy irises vs. two clear pupils. The drunks moved over the floorboards, while Goku took to the tabletop, making up for his height disadvantage. Each kept trained on the enemy, ready to jump in an attack.

Goku leapt forward in a furious punch. "EEEAAAHHH...!"

{GRONG!}

"...hhhaAAWOOA!" and then he pitched backwards, tied down by an invisible rope, to {BLUMP!} fall onto the table top, face up to the taunting, laughing jeers of the black man and blondie.

The monkey boy stared at the ceiling for a while, then next cracked his neck behind to figure out what held him back.

His eyes widened.

Then, they grew hazy.

"BWAHAHAH!!!" the redhead hooted outrageously, crushing Goku’s brown, simian-like tail for all it was worth. "Never knew ya were THAT much of a oddball. ‘Course, the funnier it is for me, heh heh." He gave the appendage another squeeze, and the boy gave out a cry of pain.

"N-no..." Goku moaned, trying his hardest to get away. "My t-taiilll..." Already he could feel the strength fading within him, his superhuman power reverting to that of a regular, thirteen year old boy. The sickening sensation was running through every fiber of him, overwhelming muscles, bones, and blood with a halting, weakening pulse. Weakening, weakening...

"Hey, looka’ this!" the blondie exclaimed, his eyes growing more sober. "When ya squeeze the freak’s tail, he goes limp!"

"What a peculiar phenomenon," the black man said, following with an excess beer belch.

"Let’s give it another go," the redhead decided and once again applied pressure to the flared up tail he held.

"Nnnrrrgg...!" He made one last effort to pry the man’s mitts from his person. Then, his power finally failed him, and he slumped back to the ground, his eyes glazing over with tired apathy. Leaving him completely open to whatever ideas the three, drunken men had in store for him.

"And there goes the kiddie!" the redhead chucked, loosening his grip on Goku’s tail. He turn over to his buddles."What do ya say, boys? Shall we give him our special medicine?"

"Yee-up!" Moving up to his friend, the blond guy approached a large bottle of cheep liquor. "Make ‘em chug th’ whole thing!"

"Pour it down his throat!" The black man chimed, moving ever so closer with his three friends, smiling with vindictive satisfaction.

"I think y’ should leave ‘em alone."

"Huh?" All three men stopped their torture of the injured Son Goku, and looked over to the door behind them...and jerked back in shock. "What the hell...?"

Just beyond the doorframe, glowing under the beam of an overhead light, stood the form of a young girl, looking to be about twelve, maybe thirteen in age. She was clothed in a gray pair of overalls, with a red golf shirt underneath, and small blue sneakers on her feet. The long hair running down her back was bright violet, even brighter due to the illumination, and a yellow, baseball cap domed the crown of her head, with tiny white wings fixated on it for flair.

But most telling of this mysterious female were her eyes, completely engulfed within the lens of large glasses, enlarging shining blue irises that told of promise...and annoyance.

"Well, well, well, lookie what we got here," the blondie snickered, walking mock-casually to Arale. "You have a probl’m with our little sport, hun"

"I don’t think Goku-kun likes that game very much," the girl observed, her fists on her hips. "You should probably play a different one."

"Arale-chan..." the referred boy murmured, stretching a weak hand to his newly-spectacled friend.

"Oh ho ho!" the redhead laughed suddenly, holding onto his belly with buoyant mirth. "And just how d’ya plan on makin’ us, huh dearie?"

Arale shrugged. "Prob’ly beatcha up,' she answered nonchalantly, her eyes wide and innocent.

The three regarded this information for a moment, then burst into hooting laughter. "You?" the red one chuckled, cheeks once again glowing red. "Beat us up? That’ll be the day!"

The girl stared at the man for a little longer, then cocked her head to the side. (Hoyo, these guys don’t seem scared,) she mussed, raising an eyebrow. (I guess they’ve never been to Penguin Village...)

While she was pondering this, the blondie had stepped beyond the round table, walking over to her frond. He bent over slightly, meeting her eyes, and gave her guiltless love an evil smile. "So you wanna join him on the ground, girl?" he asked, not really caring about the answer. "Let’s go, then."

All around the bar, the two were drawing attention. Before only marginally paying attention, the barroom dwellers gave great interest to the unfolding events in front of them. Although none of them were really expecting to see much, other than the purple-haired girl getting slammed six-feet under, they did hope for a little action. Besides, being drunk wasn’t really a riveting experience.

So with their beers put to the side, they looked on at the girl and the blondie, the latter now raising his head to expose his chin. "I’ll even give ya a free shot," he said, smiling enthusiastically. "Come on, right here. Hurry it up, now."

"Okay," Arale agreed as she kicked straight up at his head.

{BWAK!!!} Upon impact with the rubber toe, the blondie bolted vertically into the ceiling, where {CR-RACK!} his head embedded itself in the wood planks, sending a shower of sawdust onto the ground.

Every person inside turned to where the girl had made her move.

The girl didn’t seem disturbed.

Then, a low baritone laugh.

"So," the black man snickered. "This little darling can pack a wallop." Putting a hand inside his pocket, he searched around for a bit before coming up with an object: a silver quarter. "Well, I hope you can keep it up, for our sake," He placed the coin under his thumb. And smiled. "As well as yours."

{PLING!}

Rolling, rolling, the quarter span through the air, moving over and out in a sailing arc. Parting through the odors and aromas of rock-hard drinks, it continued as if in slow motion, taking as much time as possible to reach its apex in the air. Once done, the coin smoothly began its descent, altering its path just enough to move it to the floor. Or, more precisely, to the small jukebox in the corner.

Above the long selections of J-Pop song titles, the quarter’s arc changed into a forty-five degree angle. {ZNNG!}{ZNNG}{ZNNG!} Its spiral seemed never-ending, slapping the air again and again, pushing it further to the jukebox. It eventually reached the song selection area, which curiously already had the next tune selected: B-4, "Tank!" Finally, it moved to the coin slot, slowing down the spin to fit perfectly within its slit, disappearing from view. {KACHINK!}

It’s amazing what you can do when you’re drunk.

A small series of brass hits filled the tavern, jerking Arale’s gaze from the spinning quarter. With her awareness piqued, the girl glanced around her surroundings, and discovered something quite amiss.

All around her, the various spectators were slowly rising from their seats, pushing by their half-empty glasses and folding their arms. Each of them carried themselves with a certain amount of macho bravado, taunting smirks on their leering faces. Inside their eyes, through all the grime, you could a tiny little spark glinting in the pupils. For they were no longer spectators any more; they were players. Ready for a good game.

As the bongos were added in, some of the men began to uncover hidden weaponry from their pockets and sleeves. Knives, switchblades, it was all here, popping up into hands like in-built claws. They fiddled with their weapons eagerly, working the hilts between their fingers. Then, each of them, one by one, began to approach, pointing the blades towards Arale.

[I think it’s time t’ blow this thing. Get everybody and their stuff t’getha...]

The black man and redhead moved forward, still carrying their beers. "All right, guys," the black man growled, beating the bottle against his palm. "You know the drill."

[Okay, 3, 2, 1, let’s jam.]

"Yeah," the red head added in, clenching his fist. "Let’s smoke ‘er! The two men joined the rest, and Arale steeled her muscles as the enemy moved in.

The first drunkard, a short balding man, approached and made a swing for the girl’s head. Yet by the time the fist reached her, {POK!} she had already grabbed his arm, altered his momentum, and {FYMM!} tossed him into the closest wall.

After done with that, Arale whipped around to a taller guy, her next opponent. {VIP!}{VIP!} She stepped aside to avoid two clumsy punches, then {DOMP!} she slugged him in the stomach, doubling him over and ceasing his assault.

Three more aggressors appeared, rushing her all at once. She saw them coming, though, and took to the air with a spring-loaded jump. "Alley oop!" Reaching the pinnacle of her leap, Arale tucked and rolled, spinning like a pinball back down. The girl landed on of the drunks, who had of course entangled himself with the other two, so she took full advantage of this by kicking them out from under her, each man crashing into a different portion of the bar.

All of the remaining fighters’ mouths dropped. Arale turned to face them. Then, she smiled. "This is cool!" She clenched her fists, and prepared to launch into the second wave.

"HOYOOOOO!!!" Arale bolted like a screaming falcon, moving into the boozers with a stream of flying fists. {BAM!}{CRUNCH!} she caught one in the jaw and another in the teeth, sending them flying into their friends. Arale continued by {THUD!} kicking a third in the knees, jumping over him to uppercut another, and hand-springing off that one to double-fist yet another. {DMM!}

The drunks were completely overwhelmed by this kick-ass little girl, not even able to keep up with her blitz. Though they tried their best to sink their switchblades, she was too quick for them and, in the end, couldn’t even defend themselves. Arale’s fists kept finding their faces, and her feet took her away from every lunge as she whirled through, turning around to send more punches into more people.

{BAM!}{WHACK!}{THUD!} Arale threw a cross, hook, and sinker. {WHAM!}{DOMP!}{BRAK!} Next she tossed a jab, elbow, and a back-kick. {SHOOM} she dragged the one left into the air and "SUPLEX!!!" slammed him into a table top, sending a shower of wood chunks everywhere.

Arale let go of the downed man, falling back to the floor. Then {VIP!}{VIP!}{VIP!} she made a series of rapid leaps, bounding across the tables to eventually land on top of the jukebox, still playing "Tank!" and just now reaching the saxophone solo.

The black man and redhead took a long, panning view of the ransacked tavern. Every one of their buddies have been beaten into submission, their bodies scattered about in various positions of discomfort. Their jaws dropped, and there wide eyes shifted towards the girl on the jukebox, smiling cheerfully.

"Hoyo!" Arale squealed, sitting on her knees. "Come ‘n’ geeetttt me!"

They stood dormant for a second more. Then the black man raised his beer bottle, and {KSSSH!} smashed the end over a counter top. "She’s mine," he growled, stepping forward.

Meanwhile, while this exchange was taking place, a young boy stood looking at Arale. Goku had been capable of moving for some time, since his tail was no longer constricted, yet he had just stood there watching the fight. His entire expression was perplexed, stunned beyond words at this girl who had taken out almost the entire group. Though he tried to find some words anyway.

"She’s somethin’ else."

The black man made the most vicious expression he could possibly connote, yet Arale was totally unfazed. "Hey, mister bad guy," she taunted, pulling down her eyelid in traditional anime style. "Betcha can’t get me!"

"What, are you kidding?" he answered, chuckling confidently. "Of course I can!"

"Betcha can’t!"

"Yes I can!"

"Betcha can’t!"

"Yes I can!"

"Betcha can’t!"

"Shut up!" he burst out, finally loosing his cool. "Of course I can!" Clutching the bottle’s neck, the black man approached Arale with murder in his eyes. He pointed the jagged end at her face and pulled his arm back, making as if to lunge. Then, he did. "HAHHH!!!"

And Goku watched as Arale, right before the edge was to cut her, jumped the attack, spinning off her perch to land behind him. The black man, his bottle smashed against the jukebox, turned his head to seek his enemy, only to find he was too late...

"HOI!!!" Arale raised her foot at a speed of Mach 3, and punted the man straight into the jukebox. {CRASH!!!} his head punctured the logo posted on the front, missing the currently playing record by just inches.
So the man, in his last moment of lucidity, heard the finishing touches of "Tank!" "Ugh!" Then he conked out as the song clicked off.

"Nah nah!" Arale stuck her tongue out at the jukeboxed man. "Knew ya couldn’t!"

The last remaining man, the redhead, watched as his friend was put to the pastures, absolutely astonished. "By the ghost of Patty O’Brian..."

Then he watched the girl turn towards him, with the same eager expression on her face. The man gulped, and slowly backed towards the door. He knew when he was beat. "S-so sorry, but I have to water me clovers," he stammered, excusing himself to the best of his abilities. "Have a happy day!" Then {PSHOO!} he was out the door, running for dear life.

Arale watched him go, a confused expression on her face. She scratched at her hair. "Hoyo?"

She then heard a small sound to her left. Turning in said direction, she found it was the clunk of Goku’s jaw hitting the floor. "T-that was awesome!" he burbled, walking up to her and clasping her shoulders. "How’dya learn t’ fight like that?!"

"Watchin’ professional wrestling!" she answered, putting her hand behind her head in embarrassment.

Goku let go of her, his expression returning to normal. "You got some real talent," he judged, nodding his head. "I knew you were Tenka’ichi Budokai material!"

Arale giggled, and was about to comment back, when she was interrupted...

"Excuse me."

By a very, very irritated voice.

Goku and Arale looked over to the door, and were greeted by a very unpleasant sight. Standing just inside the tavern, hands on her hips, was a sixteen-year-old girl, wearing a black leather jacket, jeans, and sneakers. Her sapphire hair was entwined in a tight braid, and her large eyes shone cerulean blue.

These were not the features that were frightening, however. It was the unpleasant twitch in her eyes, the tilt to her eyebrow, and the strain of her mouth that gave her the negative aura. Yes, this girl meant business. And she meant to express it.

"We need to talk."

*****

It would be an understatement to call the interior of Capsule Corporation "fancy." No, with a huge inside garden, a complex comm system, and every Hoi-poi item within reach, it was far from even "lavish." Save for the World King’s palace, this was the Earth’s most ornate building. Far too ornate for the people currently occupying it.

"I can’t believe you, Goku!" Bulma cried, marching up the staircase overlooking the courtyard. "Do you KNOW how much money this is going to cost us?"

"Sorry, Bulma," the boy responded, keeping a safe distance away from the fiery female.

"What did you think you were doing, wrecking the bar like that?" she continued, seemingly content in her own raving. "This isn’t the mountains, y’know!"

"Actually, I wrecked the bar," a purple-haired girl pointed out, running to catch up with them.

"WELL WHO THE HELL ASKED YOU!?" her senior hollered out, blowing her hair back with the wind lash. Then, she gripped her chin thoughtfully. "Come to think of it, WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!?" she screamed again, just as loud as before.

"I’m Norimaki Arale!" the other chirped, smiling innocently. "Goku-kun’s new friend!"

"Isn’t that nice?" Bulma responded sarcastically, turning away and climbing back up the stairs. "Whatever..."

Turns out that the Briefs family owned quite a bit of stock in the tavern, and had just bought them out to convert it into a Capsule Corp. branch. The men inside were taking advantage of the going-out sale that the bar-owner was throwing, before the place got taken over. Yet, due to the damage caused by Arale’s brawl, the price of renovation had nearly doubled, taking much more than their budget would allow.

It was definitely a good thing that Dr. Briefs and Mrs. Briefs, along with the useless black cat Tama, had taken a romantic vacation for two. Romantic for Mrs. Briefs, anyway, due to her endless string of affairs with the boys on the beach. (truth be told, the doctor wanted the bar to stay)

"Well, as long as you’re here, go ahead and help yourself to the fridge," Bulma said, reaching for the door at the top of the staircase. "That’ll at least keep you out of trouble while I work at my lab. And figure out how to solve this mess..." she ended the statement with a mumble, pressing a few buttons on a keypad to deactivate the lock mechanism.

"Oh, okay," Goku said simply, heading down the stairs to the kitchen area. Then, a thought occurred to him, and he quickly dashed back. "Hey, Bulma!" he called out, tapping her on the shoulder. "Can ya do me a favor?"

Bulma, halfway in the next room, turned to him. "Make it fast," she curtly said.

"Can you tell me what this thing does?" he said, reaching into the pouch at his side.

"Huh?" She stepped out of the doorway, nearly letting it swing shut.

Goku moved his hand out of the bag, and came up with the red button from the base, all the way back in Tale 2. "Yeah, well," he started, taking a more relaxed stance. "We were walking through the woods, trying to find the city place..."

"And then I smelt somethin’ cool!" Arale jumped in, running up to Goku’s side. "It’s was poo, and I was gonna poke it!"

"Right," the boy nodded to his friends. "So, anyhoo, we fell down through a bathroom, and were in this weird place..."

"And then there were a buncha bombs and guns, and a little room with the pushy button!"
"Then came the robot frogs, the singing, and I threw Arale-chan at them..."

Then KABLOIE!!! The whole place blew up!"

"SLOW DOWN!!!" Bulma cried out, waving her arms about in the air.

"Hoyo?" Goku and Arale said simultaneously, raising their eyebrows in an identical fashion.

The teenager gave them a long look, then shrugged in defeat. "Look, just let me see it," she snapped, taking the button from his hand. Pulling out a small magnifying lens, Bulma peered through to examine it, tilting the object to catch it from all angles. Her open eye glowed with curiosity. "Huh, this is strange," she murmured half to herself, and the duo had to cran their ears in order to hear her. "It looks like it’s supposed to connect to some larger piece of machinery. But I’ve never seen anything like it..." She crinkled her eyebrows. "Hmm..."

After a few more moments of this, Bulma lowered her hand and put the magnifier away. "I’m going to have to take a closer look at this," she decided, moving once more to her lab. "You guys watch TV or something, while I analyze this." With a twirl of the heel, she took off towards another section of Capsule Corp., mumbling as she went: "What the hell’s ‘hoyo' mean, anyway...?"

When the girl had retreated back to her chambers, Arale stared off after her, her face a bit surprised. "She’s a cranky lady," she evaluated, blinking her eyelids in affirmation.

"And what does ‘Ah-nah-nuh-lize’ mean?" Goku added, trying not to trip on the unfamiliar word.

She looked into the room a little bit, then back at the boy. "Let’s go watch the tube, Goku-kun!" she said, smiling happily. "’Godzilla Vs. Mothra’ is on!"

Then "Wheeee...!" Arale was off, crying with joy for the anticipated event. He watched her disappear beyond the curve of the wall, then shortly joined her, also shouting out "Wheeee...!" for general purpose.

Goku proceeded down the hallway, inadvertently picking out the various pictures of the Briefs family mounted on the smooth walls. There was great-grandfather Boxer, crazy Uncle Thong, and the wicked, wicked godmother Girdle. The walls were a sterile white, and the floor was cover in green carpet, giving the corridor something of a cross between a mansion and a hospital. And a little ways in front was a large archway leading to the den, which the pint-sized fighter briskly followed through.

Inside the medium sized room, Goku maneuvered through the tables and sculpted vases over to a green leather sofa in front of the TV. With a quick jump, he cleared the back of the sofa and landed on the squishy seats beside Arale, already comfortably situated. He turned to ask her what she was doing, but she just grumbled, saying "The news' still on," and stared back at the screen with a bored expression on her face.

Goku was going to question her about why she persisted at looking at such an uninteresting box, but upon hearing a monotone voice emit from the speaker, decided to sit back and see what the deal was.

"And with a high of sixty degrees, we can expect scattered showers throughout the day," a plain-faced man drolled. "Now we go to Penguin Village for the headlines. Jill?"

"Thank you, Bill," a stony female replied in a business-like tone. "It was here, in this rustic farming community, that a shocking catastrophe took place. At approximately 2:00 P.M. yesterday morning, Norimaki Senbei, also known as the infamous ‘Dr. Slump,’ was abducted right near the privacy of his own home."

"Doc!" Arale suddenly blurted, jolting out of her seat like it was a burning stove.

"Wha..." Goku startled, looking at her like she was crazy. "Arale-chan, what’s up?" he asked, after a moment. "D’ya know that guy?"

"That’s the doc!" she exclaimed, her face a mixture between worry and shock. "That’s my creator!"

"Your creator...?" he pondered, not knowing quite what that meant. But soon, the newscasters began speaking again, and both he and Arale turned back to watch, anxiously awaiting the upcoming information.

"As you can see here, there was absolutely no damage inflicted upon the premises," the woman begun again, motioning to the windows of a large, well built house. "Investigators believe that the good doctor was lured out of his home, and somehow detained and taken out of the city. There are no leads yet, so to speak, but the Penguin Village police force gave up this statement: ‘Those crooks can kiss our asses!’ This is Jill, signing off."

When the brodcast was finally over, Goku turned to the girl with a sympathetic face. "Gee, how about that?" he said. "This really sucks, dosen’t it?...

Arale didn’t respond. "Doc..." she whispered to no one in particular, then drifting off into silence.

He was about to follow up with another statement, but for once his brain was working faster than his mouth, so he kept quiet. The boy's gaze focused on his friend, then drifted off towards his hands in his lap. He fiddled with his fingers for a bit, flipping the thumbs over and under, over and over again. "I wonder where he went?" he said to himself, continuing to stare at his hands.

"The same place you two will be going," a voice spoke from behind, starting the both of them.

Goku and Arale turned around...

...to find six Red Ribbon soldiers, armed to the teeth and pointing shiny, metal gun barrels at their heads. "Come with us," they ordered, steely expressions on their faces. "You’re under arrest."

Da-da-DUUMMMM!!!

*****

Additional Disclaimer(s): "Tank!" belongs to Yoko Kanno, and to all other artists who contributed to this song. (and yes, the black cat that sits on Dr. Briefs' shoulders IS named Tama. Don't ask why I know such a useless piece of trivia.)

*****

Arale: "N'cha! In the next chapter, we gotta ditch those bad guys! Hee hee, I have an idea!"

Goku: "Then, it’s a mad dash to escape the city, especially with th’ Red Ribbon on our tails!...

Goku/Arale: (with arms around each other) "All this and more, in the next exciting chapter of 'Jan-ken PUNCH!'"

RisanF: "Until next time, ja..." {B-BOMB!!!}

(All of a sudden, shards of drywall burst out from behind the writer, startling him from his perch. From the gaping hole he now looked at, a short figure emerges, glowing with untamed power. And looking kinda angry.)

RisanF: "Oh, hello Vegeta. What brings you to my cozy little hole?

Vegeta: (spit flying from his mouth) "You know damn well what I want! How dare you write a Dragon Ball Z fanfic without starring me?! I am Vegeta, prince of all Saiyans blah blah strongest in the universe blah blah blah better than Kakarrot blah blah, blah blah and furthermore..."

RisanF: (tactfully interrupting him) "Um...Vegeta, this is a ‘Dragon Ball’ fanfic. Not ‘Dragon Ball Z.’ So if you would kindly remove yourself from my office..."

Vegeta: "I’ll move whenever the hell I want, for I am of royal blah blah nobody tells me what to blah blah you all should bow to me blah blah blah etc etc..."

RisanF: {reaching under the desk for a small button) "Yes, well, I’ll put it on my agenda." (pushes button) "Have a nice day."

Vegeta: Shut up! I’m not finished with yooouuuuu...!" (falls down trapdoor)

RisanF: "What a weirdo..." (notices audience) "Ahh, until next time, ja ne! ^_^;"





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