How To Make A Really Bad Dragon Ball Z Fanfic

By Ryomi Hayashi

Step One: Write a really long and pointless disclaimer.

DBZ does not belong to me, and I don't own any of the characters. Yes I, some 12-year-old that wrote this crappy story on a sugar high and by some horrible twist of fate managed to make every grammatical error and misspelling known to the English language, believe that a creator of DBZ will waste time and money trying to hunt me down and prosecute a preteen for plagiarism. Also, I wouldn't dream of hire a lawyer to write this worthless and unimportant disclaimer for me, because I have the brains of a law school graduate that, despite all that education, can't write for shit.

Step Two: Add on an author's note.

Authors Note: My name is Sylvia and my favorite food is spaghetti. My phone number is (338) 889-7653. I will NOT write the next chapter unless you agree to sell me your first-born child and join the Colombian drug train. Why? Because I eat babies and I like crack.

Step Three: Trashy intro!

Once upon a time there was very very pretty girl named Bulma who was a virgin. She liked a really HOT sex demon named Vegita. She calls him Vegetable Pie as a nickname and he doesn't care. He loves her too. He thinks she's sexy fine too.

Step Four: Infuse your fic with Japanese to make yourself sound smart.

"Moshi moshi," Bulma said to Oolong.

"Um, you do realize that 'moshi moshi' is a telephone greeting, not a 'hello', right?" he responded.

"Oh, oops, I guess the real thing to say is 'konnichiwa'!" she said, proudly.

"No, it's morning. The correct word would be 'ohiyo', since we are on fairly familiar terms," Oolong pointed out.

"Wow, that language is sure confusing, why is the author making us say this? Isn't this fanfic in English? And since the series is in Japanese normally, shouldn't the whole fanfic be either in Japanese or English and not some half-assed combination of both?"

"You know, Bulma, you're absolutely right. But these authors seem to think that words like 'baka' and 'onna' are supposed to impress readers, or make their fanfic sound more Japanese."

"Oh Oolong, you silly pig," she responded. And they both had a jolly laugh.

Step Five: Act like the pent-up sexual tension between whatever couple you chose is too much to bear and everyone in the show are horny freaks.

Vegeta looked at Bulma and couldn't stand it. "Woman, even though I barely know you and I've only been around you for a week or two, I think you are so unbearably hot and I need you right now. If you don't let me have you I'll go crazy and explode."

"Wow, Vegeta, I share your sentiment. We need to screw or I'll go insane too, because no matter our age, I'm still desperate and lacking self- control."

Trunks walks in at that very moment. "That's exactly how I feel about Pan. In fact, I don't even know why I'm here talking to you guys when I could be doing the only thing I enjoy: having sex with Pan."

Coincidently, Gohan strolls in. "Gee, me too. I can't stand being not having my way with Videl for more than two seconds. My life has no other meaning for me."

Goku suddenly appears as well, having heard everything they said. "Same with me and Chichi! Despite the fact that I'm a naïve, innocent, warrior with boyish charm, all I think about is sex."

Bulma smiles and nods her head. "I mean, it's expected from guys, but turns out us girls too have nothing else on our minds. So all of you get out of my house before I die from not getting laid."

And so everyone left and joined their partners, because that really IS all they can stand to do.

Step Six: Lemonize!

They had sex.

Step Seven: Add in mandatory "Saiyan ritual".

"Ok," Vegeta explained, "Here's how it works. I bite your neck really hard until you bleed right in the middle of passionate sex, and you don't think it's sadistic or creepy or anything like that, and then we are bonded forever."

"Bonded?" Bulma ventured, "What does that mean?"

"It means we share strange, meaningless dreams that could pass as romantic in the melodramatic mind of an imaginative, desperate, prepubescent 12-year-old. Then, no matter how much we hate each other, we can never separate. By bonding, we are mated, which is like some marriage contract you can NEVER escape." 

"Sounds good," Bulma responded, "But does it come with telepathy?"

"Of course," Vegeta commented, "What other inescapable, unspoken mating ritual wouldn't?"

"Screw Yamucha or any other potential love or marriage prospect, I'm going with the barbaric, cold-hearted Saiyan I could never rely on for a nurturing relationship!" Bulma finished with an enthusiastic grin.

"Don't be silly, woman," Vegeta responded, "I'm disgustingly out of character, remember?"

Step Eight: Describe clothing excessively.

Bulma was wearing a burgundy, low-cut dress with a matching purse and a pink sheen. Her beautiful black heels were just the right height and open toed. Videl was wearing a strapless number matching her eyes, with slits so her thighs showed and also accessorized with a small, stylish purse.

18 was wearing—and not to imply that any of you give a flying rat's ass about some article of clothing a character in a fictional story that you really don't have that much interest in is wearing, because if you do actually think that whatever dress 18 is in is so worthy of endless detail an speculation, then perhaps you should get your priorities in line—a similar dress.

Step Nine: The mushy stuff.

"Bulma, I love you, you are my world. I think you are the most beautiful woman alive and I wish you were mine forever. I won't let anyone touch you because you mean the world to me, oh and I'm weak and stupid and I don't deserve to be a saiyan prince," Vegita said in front of Goku, Gohan, Frieza, Cell. hell, the whole damn DBZ cast. Bulma replies, "Thanks but I'm not interested. Take your goddamn son and never see me again."

Step Ten: Make sure all characters are out of character!

The doorbell rang. "Who the hell is it?" Trunks yelled, blasting down the door with a ki blast.

"Oh noooo!" Vegita squealed, "Those are my good friends Piccy and Freezy!" A bewildered Freiza and Piccolo stood there; eying the splinters of what once was a door.

"PICCY! FREEZY!" Vegita yelled, throwing his arms around them. Both returned the hug willingly.

"You the dopest shit, brother," Piccolo said, leading two scantily clad human females into the room, the "ice" around his wrists glittering brilliantly.

"Um. nice watch," Vegita said, eying the Rolex he wore so proudly.

"Bling bling," he responded.

Frieza blinked a couple of times, then spoke, "Hey Veg, you wanna come clubbing with me?"

"Now Freezy, you know I'm not into the rave scene. I'm a poetic, stay-at- home kind of guy."

"Oh ok," Frieza said, his swishing his enormous pants shyly. "Well I guess it's just another night of love, peace, and drugs without you."

Suddenly, Yamcha appears. "I'd like to remind everyone that I am a homosexual and am looking forward to a sex change." They all smiled, winked, and held peace signs.

Step Ten: Americanize!

"Hey let's all go to Carl's Jr!" Frieza suggested.

"Good idea," Vegita said, "Goku can drive just as soon as that episode of Days of Our Lives is over."

"Ok, how about we all listen to Missy Eliot and Garth Brooks while we wait?"

"Sure thing. Hey, what's everyone doing for 4th of July?"

"CELEBRATING THE GLORIOUS BIRTH OF OUR NATION!" everyone said at once. Goku soon came out of the house and they all loaded up into their Jeep Liberty and drove off into the Arizona sunset.

Step Eleven: Glamorize the good, belittle the bad.

Goku was so handsome with rippling muscles and a broad chest. He wins every battle. Everyone is scared of him, except Vegita and Trunks who are also really hot and also win every battle. And they seldom fight each other, but when they do, everyone wins! Frieza is a girl who can't fight and no one likes him and he's stupid and Goku kills him. Same with Cell, the Ginyu Force, and the androids. But not 18 because she's cute.

Step Twelve: All the women must be stunningly gorgeous.

Bulma was so beautiful, men fell at her feet, doing everything she commanded, and feeling the sudden and inexplicable need to cater to her every whim. She is so beautiful, that Vegeta wants her so bad he can't stand to be more than two seconds away from her or he'll have a seizure and go into comatose.

Pan is also gorgeous, and I don't care what age she is in this fic, even a seven year-old Pan will have EVERY MAN ON EARTH swooning. Oh, and so is 18, Chi Chi, Bra, and any other female in Dragon Ball Z I feel should be in my fanfic. It doesn't matter if one of them gets leprosy or some other disfiguring disease in the actual show, in my fic, THEY'RE ALL BEAUTIFUL.

Step Thirteen: Conclusion

Bulma left Vegita with Trunks but that's ok because Vegita has a kind soul and the two flew off together with their hands held to the moon where they lived forever cause everyone's a Mary Sue and so am I.

Step Fourteen: Write a falsely modest thank-you note.

Hi, I'd just like to thank everyone for dedicating their time to reading this fic which is so perfect and so well-written, that I should be proclaimed the Messiah and be worshipped for years to come. And I'd also like to encourage more people to read my fanfic, because IT IS THE GREATEST WORK OF FICTION EVER CREATED BY A MORTAL and that right now, great writers like Shakespeare are spinning in their graves until they strike oil.

I'd also like to respond to all my flamers, with the recommendation that they check into a mental institution for further care, because frankly, I don't think you people deserve to be mixed with the rest of normal society and instead should be locked away. Oh, and locked away especially away from any computer where you can bastardize my reviews page with ridiculous, incomprehensible slander that berates my beautiful work, even if it is perfectly sane and logical. After all, anything that insults my work is LIES, ALL OF THEM, LIES!

Step Fifteen: Author realizes the error of his/her ways and commits suicide for writing this atrocity that embodies everything that is wrong with society in the most unfulfilling, time- wasting way that leaves the reader feeling mortally doomed to live on a planet where people who write this crap waste precious food, air, and other resources in the most meaningless of existences. Their own. One of sheer, undeniable stupidity that deserves to be taken away in the most humiliating of ways.

Oh, author then receives 579 reviews with nothing but lavish praise. Congratulations!