A/N: Well, for those who would like a translation of the first chapter, here it is! This translation was written by Dragon Adept. lol

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Booster...

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Ok then, here goes. The italic parts are the cryptic cipher that Vocab Booster uses, the bold parts are the translation.

Fancy talkin' parts.

Everyone get the system? Cool, let's do this!

The Power Booster looked at him through his dark green visor, appearing black at certain angles, and talked in a…not so deep voice, as Moordryd expected. “Oh, um, Dragon Booster. I’m inclined to rectify you on an unambiguous aver.”

“You screwed up my name!”

“Oh, um, I…okay?” The Dragon Booster stuttered. “What?” Moordryd looked from one to the other, his momentary respect and awe of the new booster beginning to slide away.

“Well, you entitled me as the Power Booster.”

“You called me Power Booster!”

“What’s wrong with that? You are the new one, you know.”

“I comprehend that, but I’ve elected to classify for myself an inventive appellation.”

“Yeah whatever, I gave myself a cooler name.”

“Uh…okay?” Artha asked slowly. Moordryd started to snigger.

“Commencing as of this juncture on, you shall in tandem with alacrity call me by my deviating moniker…the Vocabulary Booster!” The Power Boos…excuse me…the Vocabulary Booster replied proudly, staring off past them into seemingly nothing, only the wonderful future as this new booster imagined it.

“Call me (gibberish) Vocabulary Booster now dangit!”

Moordryd and Artha stared at him. “What, you’re…renaming yourself as the…Vocabulary Booster? You can’t do that.” Moordryd objected.

“I just implemented that compos mentis exploit.”

“Yeah I can, I just did!” (latin gibberish) “You crazy freak!”

Moordryd and Artha stared at him doubly. “So you’ve…changed your name?” Artha dared to question. Parm took a deep breath, and looked as if he were about to delve into a lengthy explanation, but noticed Artha’s rather blank stare and instead simply said, “yes.”

“But that goes against the original Power Booster and the, he…you have the green draconium gauntlet of power! Not the green draconium gauntlet of vocabulary.”

Parm shook his head. “I divulged my erudite diktat. It coincides with me better, you’d do benevolently to procure discern of that.”

“Vocabulary Booster is a way more Pimp name.”

“Ugh. Parrroower Booster,” Artha sighed, almost calling Parm by his ‘secret identity.’ “I don’t really…ah, understand you.”

“Why not? I’m vocalizing in manifest draconian.”

“WTF you mean you don’t understandt me? I be talkin’ English good up in here!”

“Hmm?”

“Ugh,” Moordryd groaned aloud. “He said he’s speaking plain draconian.” Artha looked back to Parm, beginning to understand. “And I don’t really care how he talks. Let’s see how he fights.” Moordryd raised his right hand, and extended his mag-staff. He pointed it at the new Vocabulary Booster. “Show me what you got, king of the nerds.”

Decepshun magged him into the air, and he lifted his mag-staff over his head, preparing for a brutal strike as he closed the distance between him the and the Vocabulary Booster.

“Parmmooower Booster,” Artha called, his tongue slipping again. He wasn’t used to having to remember to keep other people’s identities a secret.

“Discharge not your qualms, Dragon Booster!” The Vocabulary Booster called out as he watched the Shadow Booster close in on him.

“Don’t freak DB. I got dis.”

“What?”

The Vocabulary Booster ignored Artha’s dim protests, and focused his attention on the Shadow Booster. “Solidify, you obdurate mandrill. Your derisory gaffe bewails my insipid acumen. Claret, ad hoc negligee will subjugate the integral forte!”

“Put ‘em up ya stubborn monkey! I won’t match wits with someone who is unarmed! Red! (Latin buzzwords) Outdated woman’s housecoat! We shall enslave your muscles!”

Moordryd fell off his mag-stream, dropping his mag-staff as he fell. He landed heavily, and looked up to the Vocabulary Booster. “What did you just say?”

“Acquiescent nonentities exonerate importunate sagacity. You construe you are capable of pasting me?”

“Friendly ghosts forgive you of your annoying wisdom! You think you can take me?”

Moordryd held his head and closed his eyes in growing pain. “I still don’t know what you said!” He cried in dismay.

“Vocabulary Booster, stop!” Artha pleaded from atop Beau. “My brain is hurting.”

“Of course,” the Vocabulary Booster said, now on a roll. “Your puerile psyche’s competence can’t contravene in conjunction with my own. My turgid lexis independently is capable of trouncing you. I do not necessitate derisory hostility adroitness.” He yelled, raising his fist high into the air as he said the last part.

“I crush your childish brain with big words! I don’t need insulting flexibility!”

Artha was bent over in Beau’s saddle, hands over his delicate head. “Parm! Stop talking. Head hurt!” Beau roared painfully in agreement. The Shadow Booster looked up from the ground, where he was lying in great pain.

“Unfetter the Enigmatic Terminology!” Parm yelled, very loudly.

“Take the weight off of my fancy language!”

“Wha…” Moordryd barely whispered. Parm sighed heavily.

“I mean, Unleash the Vocabulary. Asinine individual.”

“Read a dictionary stupid!”

“Thank you.”

“That was not a compliment.”

“I just dissed you fool!”

Moordryd narrowed his eyes, and stood up, swaying slightly. “What did you just call me then?”

“He said you were a genius,” Artha piped in from behind Moordryd.

“Well…gee,” Moordryd said, and rubbed the back of his neck and moved his foot in a circular motion on the ground, “gosh.” He mumbled, blushing slightly. He always knew he was pretty darn smart…

The Vocabulary Booster slapped a hand to his head. “I said it wasn’t a compliment! Why do you hearken to him?”

“Don’t talk to Moordryd while I’m trying to pwn him with fancy talk!”

Moordryd glanced from one to the other, and rubbed his head from the sudden jab of pain the unknown word had caused. “Umm…”

Artha looked at them both. “So….I’m the genius?” The other two stared at him. Beau looked up at Artha and shook his head slowly and sadly.

The Shadow Booster rolled his eyes, but no one could tell since he was wearing a mask, so it didn’t really matter what he did with his eyes. He turned back to the Vocabulary Booster. “This is taking too long,” he said in a deep voice.

“Oh, I accede to that avowal,” Parm said in a low voice.

“Yep.”

“I said, this is taking too long. I said nothing about vowels.” Moordryd rebuked Parm’s poor hearing skills.

Parm sighed irritably. “Avowal doesn’t refer to…”

“That’s not what I said.”

“My favorite vowel is A.”

“Shut up, Dragon Loser,” Moordryd retorted to Artha without turning around.

“Make me, stinky breath.”

“Fine!”

And Moordryd twisted around and prepared to fight with the Dragon Booster. Artha spun his jakk-stick, then beckoned Moordryd to come.

“Wait!” Parm shouted, and the two turned to look at him. “Dragon Booster, you beseeched me to come with you to bequeath succor in altercating the Shadow Booster. You’re sanctioning yourself to get preoccupied with your enmity.”

“You said I was supposed to help, and now you’re pullin’ this ‘hero boy’ crap?”

“I don’t know what you just said,” Artha said in his hero voice, “but it my head is hurting, a lot. Why don’t we just fight? I know you and I can defeat the Shadow Poopster together.”

Moordryd was slightly miffed. “What did you just call me?”

Parm shook his head at Artha. “But…but my virtuosity of mêlée was prodigiously trenchant! He was recumbent, I essentially won!” Parm pointed an angry finger at the two and continued on in his growing rant. Moordryd stepped back, realizing what was going to happen; Artha prepared by covering his ears and repeating, “lalalalalalalaIcanthearyoulalalalalalala,” over and over.

“But I was majorly layin’ the hurt on SB!”

“You never advert to me. Just glom at you forthwith, oppugning my modus operandi. My acumen is off the schemas, yours is prodigiously substandard, and you conjecture, ‘assent us to surmount it my expedients.’ You just envisage that considering you’re the laureate paladin, the veritable and transcendent means to effectuate is to transact it your way! Well my methodology is a plethora, it comprises an elevated contingency of attainment than your truculent credentials against him. A vicinal 95.8 percent prospect of fruition, in fact.”

“Don’t try to sell me junk. Just steal stuff, quickly! Don’t question my Latin methods! My smarts is off the scale yo! You’re a stupid loser always talking about how you will agree to stop my climbing quickly! Think about it this way you overrated Jihad, your way isn’t the only way. My plan is better because I are more smarterer than you! As a matter of fact I almost had this n00b dun beat down before you got all up in my grill!”

Artha yelled, his temporary singing defeated by the Vocabulary Booster’s own fighting technique. “Argh! My head!” Artha nearly writhed in pain.

“Shut up already!” Moordryd yelled from where he was curled up in a ball on the ground, while all of the unknown terms and language the Vocabulary Booster was using was giving him a major headache. “I can’t take it anymore! Decepshun!” Decepshun roared, her brain hurting as well, and was barely able to mag Moordryd to the saddle. She ran away from the dreadful Vocabulary Booster.

Artha was not so lucky, as Beau had already fallen unconscious. Artha slumped across the saddle, the pain in his head too great.

“Now where are you going ? Can’t beat me, can you?”

“I so freaking owned him!”

Parm settled back in Cyrano’s saddle, and folded his arms, chuckling. “See Artha? I told you I could help... Artha?”

“Oh s--t! I Killed Artha!”