DBZ One Shots |REQUESTS OPEN|

(Piccolo;1) The Stuffed Clone

Ha, it's 2:13 in the morning, and I was going to go to sleep, but nope, I have my Piccolo Stuffed Clone with me on the couch, (because he's not a stuffed animal, and I hate the words 'plush' and 'plushie' they need to die. In a pit. Filled with fire. And death.

Cell: You have a Piccolo stuffed doll?! That's hilarious!
Me: Quiet you! If they had one of you in your perfect form, you'd be my next victim.
Cell: 0-o
Me: I like him better than you.
Cell: ....
Me: Think about that one.

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You sat on your bed, cross legged listening to (band name), and (f/s) came on. (Huh, didn't think I'd actually use that one.) You smiled lightly, humming the song while staring at your wall.

It was glorious. Sometimes people came over to your house just to see the glory that is....your wall sized Dragon Ball Z poster. And of course, you hunted for one that had a bigger image of Piccolo on it. The Namekian was your favorite after all.
(Cell: Ew.)

You grinned, turning on your custom painted (by you) (f/c) (console choice.) You didn't need to put Xenoverse in, it was always in the tray unless you were watching a dbz dvd. You may or may not have had a slight addiction to Dragon Ball.

(Cell: The Lame-o fell asleep, so now she has to finish writing it today. Guess someone's not going swimming, huh Tpos? Me: *glares and puts in earbuds* anyway...)

You were suprised by the sharp jolt of electricity that coursed through your body as you powered up the console. You dismissed it easily, getting distracted by your Piccolo stuffed doll. You picked it up, and took it and the controller back to your bed, Piccolo doll in your lap.

You felt a tickliling sensation, but ignored it, it was the same kind of feeling you got when your leg fell asleep.

You quickly contemplated why they called it 'falling asleep,' and you didn't notice that when your character was teleported into a different world, so were you.

Of course, you didn't notice until a few hours later, due to the fact you passed out.

"What is this?" A deep voice asked, holding your Piccolo doll by the cape in front of your face.

Wait. You cringed. You'd know that voice anywhere. You cringed again, getting defensive. You realized that being defensive was probably your only way out of this situation with a shred if dignity left.

"That's mine, don't touch it." You hastility grabbed the doll from the green fingers and clutched it to your chest.

You looked up to find Piccolo scowling, as always. You scowled back, but your face betrayed you, heating up.

"Why...why do you have a stuffed clone of me? I don't even know you."

"Because I had money. So I bought it. That's how people aquire things. "

"But why? Why me?

"Because you're my...." you didn't want to say 'favorite,' so you went with something, uh, similar..."least hated Z-fighter." You liked all the Z-fighters in truth, except Yamcha. He kinda annoyed you.

(Cell: What's a 'Yamcha?' Me: Stop inturrupting! You think you're funny?! Cell: Yes.)

"How do you know any of us?"

You didn't want to freak out your favorite Namekian, you thought you had already done enough damage with the whole 'stuffed clone' thing.

"Well, where I'm from, you guys are famous for all you've done. Like defeating Frieza, Cell, (Cell: *groans*) and Buu, to name a few. Oh, so I guess now's as good as any...Thanks for saving Earth, like, a gajillion times!"

(Cell: 'Gajillion' is not a number. Me: would YOU like to narrate, Cell? Cell: Yes, actually.)

Cell: *reads my first draft, grimaces* Piccolo smiled. No one had ever thanked him for his services before. He pulled you up.

"That's weird," he said.

"Not where I'm from. Get culture, Piccolo."

This is stupid, Tpos. *throws notebook over his shoulder.* Too lovey-dovey. I will make your story perfect. Maybe actually get you some READERS.

Me: *rolls eyes.*

Cell: (back to narrating) He laughed. Just then, an amazing hunk of muscle showed up, with glorious pink eyes and a clever grin. He was called Cell.

"Nice doll there, kid." He said.

"I'm no kid." The girl said back.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she said defiantly. "I've got a name too."

"What is it?" The hunky bio-android said.

(Me: Cell, stooop!)

"Its none of your business."

"Ah, how very anti-establishment. Its nice. Your parents must've been those punk-rockers, right?" He smirked.

"No, Cell, they weren't. They were scientists." She smirked equally.

"Oh, scientists. That's nice."

Okay. I don't know what to do anymore. I'm bored. Take over Tpos.

Me: *rolls eyes and mumbles under breath*

So Cell got bored and flew off, not that you really cared.

"Shouldn't he be dead?" You asked Piccolo, wishing you had a bag to put your stuffed Piccolo away in. It was bothering you that the real Piccolo could see it.

How childish, you chided yourself.

"Yeah, he should be. Very dead. Come with me."

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