I've always liked General Blue. This takes place before the hunt for Dragon Balls, and I hope that I do him justice in this piece.

General Blue was in the midst of grooming himself after a messy morning's work, having had to go down into one of those nasty submarines and examined what the captain thought was a breach in the base's defenses. He had begun by combing his blond hair, resting his legs on the desk in front of him as he took a tiny mirror out of his coin purse and used it to examine himself. He grinned in the mirror, showing off his pearly whites before glancing down to his nails and noticing that they were filthy after the day's work, having had to trek through a jungle and a half to get to the spot before boarding the submarine. He looked at his fingers in disdain, his grin slipping as he set the mirror down and took tweezers out of his breast pocket. Then he started the busy work of cleaning his nails by dislodging the dirt underneath, throwing it into a waste bin sitting by his side. He reached into his pocket again in search of a file, but it wasn't there. It must have fallen out during his journey across the island, but that was of no matter. He always kept a spare on in his desk.

He opened the drawer on his right side, reaching into it to find what he needed. He felt a smooth surface of pens rolling over his fingers and was poked by his spare tweezers, making him wince with the minor pain. But, eventually, he retrieved the file, notable for its scratchy surface, and began polishing his roughened nails with it.

He held the nail file at a standstill in his left hand as the door to his office cracked open, a nasally voice calling, "General? May I enter?" The general promptly took his legs off of his desk and stashed the file into the open drawer along with his other tools of beauty. Then, crossing his legs and sitting upright in his swivel chair, he cleared his throat and readjusted the vase of roses sitting on his desk.

"Come in!" he called, his clear voice cutting through the air. He placed his hands in his lap as he watched with distaste as the overweight Captain Dark made his way into the room, tracking mud on the floor. He sneered, but the fat man didn't notice, so Blue continued with his arm extended, "Sit down, sit down. You've obviously been on your feet all day."

Dark gulped as he sat down in the wooden chair, adorned by a pink cushion, Blue had been pointing to. He pulled it up closer to the desk, making the general wince as he saw the streak lines the legs of the chair were making on his newly waxed floors. But he took this time to ignore it, interested to hear why the captain had disturbed him during his alone time. Everybody knew that to disturb Blue while he was in his office was to write a death sentence for yourself, and Dark only felt more uneasy with the politeness the general was treating him with.

Blue's lips were pressed together into an insincere smile as he set his hands on the desk, leaning forward to ask, "What's wrong, Dark? Are there some important matters that need to be discussed?" He fluttered his eyelashes, hoping to disarm the captain, and succeeded. Dark leaned further back in his chair, regretting having pulled the chair so close to the desk now.

Dark began mumbling nervously, fiddling with his fingers, "Why, yes, there are some important matters that need to be discussed, and I'm very sorry for disturbing you, but..."

His voice faded into nothingness as Blue said in his distinct voice, "Tut, tut! Speak up, Dark. I can't understand a word of what you're saying, and I can't help you if I don't know what you want."

The captain looked flushed, intimidated by the proximity between the two of them. There was only a foot between the two of their faces, and with the rumors he had heard spread about men who came into his office, he had to force the words out of his throat. "I said, there are some important things that I need to discuss with you, General." He gulped again as Blue snapped back into an upright position, a pleased expression on his face.

"That's better..." the general encouraged him, now with a darkness hidden in what he said.

Dark was oblivious to the general's derisive tone, making a fool of the fat man, and said, "Thank you, General!" With more confidence now that Blue's icy eyes weren't so close to his own dark, beady eyes, he continued, "I received a report of there being a missing ration of food from the kitchens, having been stolen. I'm not sure if it's one of our men or somebody else, but the thief took away a large portion, and I fear that we won't have enough to get through until the next copter comes."

Blue chuckled cruelly, making the captain's bushy moustache bristle with his fear returning. With his eyes never leaving the captain's, he reached forward for his vase of roses, plucking one of the flowers and holding it in his grip. "So our food's missing?" he mused with Dark nodding along to this rhetorical question. Spinning the rose by its stem between his fingers, he asked, "Are you afraid that you won't have enough food to get through, Dark? I've seen you take two or even three extra helpings of pie whenever it's served. Are you the one eating all of the food?"

Dark cowered back in his chair, his fear of the general taking root again. "I, I'm sorry, sir." His voice was meek as the general leapt up, his chair spinning backwards from this sudden action. "I thought that we were allowed to have seconds, sir."

"And thirds, and fourths!" Blue said, his brushed blond hair frazzling. He stuck the rose back in its place fiercely as he loomed over the table, twice as tall as the sitting captain. "Do you ever see any of the other men taking as much pie as you do? No! That's because in order to hold a job here, you must have a perfect body, like I do! Do you see me even getting pie? No! I have to have the will and self-control that you don't possess in order to stay in such excellent shape, exercising while you're stuffing your face!"

"Sir, I'm sorry, I-"

But by then, Blue had leaned over the desk and had grabbed him by the front of his shirt, holding him up easily to his height. With his chubby legs dangling helplessly from a few feet off the ground, Blue leaned forward, his cold gaze even colder as he barked, "You're fat, and I will not allow fat people to work for me! If you don't lose some weight, you're fired!" And with force, he threw the poor captain back into his seat, recomposing himself as he straightened his red tie. Then, with his voice low and angry, he ordered, "Now leave."

Dark stumbled out of his chair and towards the door, his piggy legs carrying him as quickly as possible. But, with his hand on the doorknob, he turned around and pleaded, "What about the food rations? What should I tell the-"

"LEAVE!" Blue demanded, marching threateningly around the desk. Dark whimpered and scrambled through the door, slamming it behind him. Blue looked at the retreating figure and smirked to himself, proud of the power he held. He placed his hands on hips and returned to his chair, assuming a comfortable position in it. But the smile didn't last long on his face as he looked down at his manicured hands, realizing that he had broken one of his nails in his little skirmish with Dark.

That was the last straw. Dark would have to go.