Vegita had become a lazy pig.  He had a right to.  Bulma had made him attend school, Trunks and Goten had turned him into a food, he had won a fight with Bulma, and he had been able to give Kakkorratt brain surgery.  He had been stressed a lot recently, and had some good things happen.  But it had taken its toll.  Vegita was exhausted.  For the past three-months, Vegita had been sprawled on the couch, watching Teletubbies.  Bulma was getting worried.  One day, she decided to take action.

“Vegita,” she said.  She stood between him and the television.

“Move,” Vegita grumbled.  “I am about to find out if the purse-wearing one has a power-level above 10,000.”

    Bulma gave her husband a weird look.  “I am worried about you.  However, I figured out a way to make you better.”  She hit him over the head with a brick.  Vegita didn’t respond.  “I destroyed the gravity machine.”  Nothing.  “Goku is better than you.”  Nothing.  “You are going back to school.”

    Vegita jumped off of the couch.  He powered up to Super Saiya-jin, and glared at Bulma.

“Well, I guess school will return you to normal,” Bulma said.

“If you send me there I will kill you,” Vegita growled.

“Well, it did awake him from depression.  Maybe if I give him some freedom, he will pursue this.”  Bulma’s twisted logic was in action, and she had no idea what she was doing.  Just going with the flow.

“Not kindergarten,” she said.

“I might go to any school, but I am not wearing that crap that you made me wear last time,” Vegita said.

“I won’t,” Bulma said.

“No pink things,” Vegita said.

“Fine,” Bulma sighed.

“And keep all Namek’s out of this.”

“Okay.”

“Where are you sending me?” Vegita asked.  He powered down.  He was obviously yet to recover from his exhaustion.

“Wherever you want,” Bulma said.  “You know, if I am gone, you will need some intelligence to hold a job.”  She handed him a wad of money for tuition somewhere and shooed him away.

“Vegita, Prince of the Saiya-jins,” the man called.  The audience applauded as Vegita accepted his certification of knowledge.

“Why did he go to college again?” Chi-chi asked Bulma.

“And why didn’t he kill anything?” Goku asked.

“Well, it is confusing,” Bulma said.  She really didn’t know.

“I am going off to work,” Vegita called.  “Be back tomorrow.”

“What?” Bulma asked.

“I got a job.  Thanks for encouraging the necessary education!” Vegita called.

“Okay…” Bulma mumbled.  Vegita walked out of the door.

“Welcome aboard Food Airlines Flight 1313.  I am your pilot for the day, Captain Food.”

    Piccolo mumbled a small hello in response to the speaker, who was standing in front of the seats.  Piccolo adjusted his crossed legs, and turned the page of his newspaper.  He nudged his glasses, and took a sip of coffee.

“I can understand the tournament in Europe requiring a flight on this airline for commercial purposes, but why does the only one from near me have to be so early in the morning?” Piccolo thought.

“And this is my copilot,” Captain Food said.  “His name is Vegita.”

    Piccolo peered over his paper.  Standing next to the pilot was Vegita.  He was wearing the blue pilot uniform, but had nowhere near as many medal things on it as the pilot.  He was wearing a hat, which perched on the peak of his hair.

“Oh, crap,” Piccolo thought.  “Why him?  Am I seeing things?”

“This is his first voyage, so wish him luck,” Captain Food said.  Piccolo became very shaky.

    Piccolo was pale.  Not from present danger, but for the lack of danger.  The plane had been airborne for thirty-minutes, and all had gone fine.

“So, are you enjoying this Vegita?” Captain Food asked.

“Yeah,” Vegita said in a shaky voice.  He was cautiously peering over instruments.

“You know, I once encountered a man named Vegita,” Food said.  “I would think it would be a much rarer name.

“To my knowledge I am the only Vegita,” Vegita said.

“He looked like you, too,” Food said.

“Oh?” inquired Vegita.

“Yeah,” Food said.  “He went to kindergarten at my school.  He caused a lot of problems, actually destroyed the school.”  Food looked over to see a golden-haired Vegita with veins bulging everywhere.  His senses had returned.  He remembered little as to what was going on.  He did remember how to pilot a plane and where he was.  But what was going on?

“Why the heck am I on this plane?” Vegita demanded.

“Um…not you,” Food whimpered.

“Big Bang Attack!”

    Piccolo winced as the pilot flew down the isle, and came to a crashing halt in the back of the plane.

    Vegita took the plane to an altitude of 40,000 feet, put the plane on autopilot, and marched into first-class.  He eyed all of the passengers in the front of the 737.

“Okay, I am your new pilot,” Vegita said.  “Here is how it goes.  You do what I say, and you don’t meet your maker after a 40,000 foot drop.”  Gasps went all through the passengers.

    In the back section, Piccolo heard Vegita.  He reached into his overhead storage bin and pulled out a big raincoat.

“Okay, folks, take out anything of value,” Vegita ordered.  “I will be around to collect it.”

“I don’t think so,” a man said.  Vegita walked into the cockpit.  The plane plunged from 40,000 feet to 30,000 feet in several seconds. He walked back to the passengers, all of whom were frozen in fear.  He collected the valuables and continued into the next section.  There, he took the valuables from the scared passengers.  He finally entered the last section.

    Vegita went to take the valuables.  There were none.  All of the passengers in this section were headed to compete in the martial arts tournament.  They all were wearing their uniforms.

“You think you can hurt me?” Vegita asked.  All of the fighters attacked.  “Final Flash.”

    The farmer was feeding his pigs.  He heard a bang and looked up to see a plane.  The bodies began to fall onto him.

    Vegita glared out of the hole in the plane’s side.  The cabin was rapidly depressurizing and things were flying out.  Vegita spied the only passenger left in the section.

“Hey, you!” Vegita called.  He destroyed Piccolo’s coat with a small blast.

    Piccolo and Vegita locked eyes.  Vegita pointed his palm at Piccolo.  All of the passengers up front were busy strapping on parachutes.

“Big Bang…”

“Special Beam Cannon, fire!” Piccolo shouted.  Vegita closed his eyes, and brought his arms over his chest to block.  The blast hit the floor beneath Vegita.  By the time Vegita opened his eyes, he had fallen ten thousand feet.

“Everyone, come here!” Piccolo called.  The passengers ran into the section, struggling not to be pulled out by the pressure change.  “Jump!”

    Vegita flew back up to the plane, dodging descending passengers.  He was going to kill Piccolo for hijacking his plane.

    Piccolo followed the last passenger out of the plane.  He flew to the side, and dug his claws into it.  He threw the plane into space to prevent a crash from killing people on the ground.

“Final Flash!” Vegita called.  Piccolo looked on in fear as the blast raced at him.

“Vegita!” a voice called from below.  Vegita turned to see a passenger, whose parachute was not working, plummeting down.  Vegita recognized the passenger.

“I am coming my beloved purse-carrying Teleutubbie!”  Vegita dove down to save the freak, while Piccolo dodged the attack and flew away.  The Final Flash continued on into space.

“Vegita, get up,” Bulma said.

“The Teletubbies are on,” Vegita growled.  He was again lying on the couch.

“Vegita, you reverted!  And quit whining about the Teletubbies!  One is sitting on you!”

“You know, its power is above ten thousand,” Vegita announced.