A/N: Hey guys! This is my first DBZ fanfic...I've written a lot of APH fanfics (okay, not a lot, but still) so I thought I'll extend my borders...

Okay, I'm lying.

I had a freaking hilarious dream—so I just lay in bed, trying to get it out in words, and this is what I got—a komodo dragon, a flamingo, an old man and Bulma trying to search for the dragon balls. Add my flair for the dramatic, my love for the Brief's family and my fear of Team Four Star's Mr. Popo, and I got this...thing. My first DBZ fanfic. Yay.

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ. If I did, ChiChi would've yelled Frieza to death, and that saga would've been over in, like, five minutes. Seriously.

The day Mr. Popo got bored

Part 1

Mr. Popo was bored.

Now, usually, that wasn't a good thing. If Mr. Popo was bored, it would mean that he would've finished watering the flowers, torturing the weeds and pests, cleaning up around Dende's lookout, appearing in Dende's nightmares and basically...just doing stuff. But Mr. Popo was bored, and that meant he had time to cause tsunamis, earthquakes, famines, droughts and basically enjoy himself as he tortured people using his powers.

Now, to do things like that, he didn't need the dragon balls. Nuh uh. He practiced black magic (gee, doesn't that sound just about right) and since Dende was too busy trying to shake off his nightmares, pretty much nobody disturbed him.

He drew a circle in the ground, and there appeared a see-through portal to the world below him. He browsed through oceans, continents and people killing each other, and stopped over one enormous dome-shaped house.

Capsule Corp.

He zoomed in. He could see the ones they called Goku and Krillin laughing about something Krillin had said, and the saiyan called Vegeta harassing his father-in-law, who, by most normal circumstances, wasn't even supposed to be alive. A small smile tugged on Mr. Popo's red, fat lips. He might've had something to do with that.

He moved the portal a little, and saw the children of the saiyan Vegeta fighting over some trivial thing, like most brothers and sisters do. Mr. Popo would know—he killed his own brothers and sisters before he came to Kami—oops, Dende's lookout. He heard a shrill, high pitched voice call out, and moved down. The one called Mrs. Briefs was busy feeding the dog.

His fat, red lips curved even more.

Mr. Popo found something to occupy his time.

Bulma hefted up the heavy brown grocery bag to her chest. It didn't contain groceries—in a house where there were, technically, two saiyans, she sure as hell couldn't shop for groceries. It wasn't the option of bankruptcy, but more like who the hell would carry all that stuff. No, she had a farm the size of four football fields locked up in a capsule.

She'd been to a junkfest, where she found so many old machine parts that she thought she'd never see again. Some parts brought along ideas for new instruments, and within two hours, she had a sizable haul. She would've put it in a capsule and popped it inside her pocket, but carrying brown grocery bags like this made her feel normal, although even she knew that carrying old-timer gears was no one's idea of normal.

She walked back home, the tune she'd heard at the fest on her lips. She stepped inside the compound of their enormous home, and looked around, appreciating the huge spaces around the main house. She was a billionairess, but that didn't stop her from enjoying the pleasure of the small things in life.

She walked to the door, and found it unlocked. Strange. She frowned. Her father always kept it locked. She cautiously opened the door. "Is anyone home?" she said to the ominous creak of the front door.

"Welcome home, baby girl."

She blinked. The hell—? "Vegeta?" she squeaked

Her saiyan husband appeared in front of her, smoking up hell with that cigarette in his mouth. "Oh, Vegeta? That lad's around here, somewhere. He was screaming when he disappeared. Let me"—

"Wait...what? Vegeta, there's a cat on your neck!"

Vegeta had an uncharacteristically—no, creepily—calm expression on his face as he looked at the black cat. "Yes, Bulma. This is Scratch."

Bulma set the bag down, and took both the cigarette and the cat from Vegeta. "What kind of a joke is this, Vegeta"—

"I'm not"—

"Wife!"

Bulma blinked. "Dad's in a bad mood."

"No, I'm not. You're hurting Scratch, though," Vegeta said.

Okay, she'd had enough. "Vegeta, stop"—

"Wife!"

"Dad, she'll probably be there in the kitchen!" Bulma called out, and turned to her husband with a frown on her face. "Now, look here, Vegeta"—

"Where the hell have you been?"

Bulma gaped. "Dad, have you been drink"—

Dr. Briefs stopped dead in his tracks, his face becoming as ashen as his face as he stared at Vegeta. "You."

Vegeta blinked at his father-in-law. "Where are my glasses?"

Had she come home, or to a circus? Muttering under her breath, she pushed past her husband and father, just to hear shrieking. "What the hell is wrong with this"—she let out a shriek of her own as a flamingo appeared before her. "Why is there a"—she paled as a kimono dragon appeared, licking its chops.

Fuck.

She turned around and walked as fast as she could, only to have her son and daughter storm right before her. "Mom, what the hell is going on?" Trunks screeched in a high pitched voice.

"Mother, why am I a girl?" Bra asked with a demureness she had never hoped possible in her daughter.

"Mom! I demand an ans"—

"Trunks, stop screeching!"

"Mother, I am not screeching," Bra said quietly, pushing up glasses—glasses? Nerdy glasses?—up her nose.

She was suddenly becoming dizzy. Dr. Briefs and Vegeta walked in, her father in nothing but his pants, and her husband smiling—smiling—at the black cat. The komodo dragon and the flamingo joined them, and all of them began staring at Bulma, who was slowly going insane.

Okay, okay. You aren't genius, multi-billionaire extraordinaire for nothing. "I-I'm going to c-call out your names, o-okay"—

"What's the meaning of this?" her father demanded, but Bulma decided to ignore him until she had her facts straight. "Okay. Dad."

"Hi, darling."

Bulma's heart skipped a beat. "Vegeta."

Her father gave out a loud harrumph.

"Bra."

Her son blew the hair out of his eyes. "Yes, mom."

"Trunks."

Her daughter pushed up her large glasses up her nose. "Here, mother."

Right then, Krillin walked in, bobbing his entire torso to and fro as he walked. He turned around, and squalled loudly, which was quickly smothered by Goku pouncing on him, pinning him on the ground. Krillin wailed and wailed as Goku licked his chops.

Something was about to click in her head. "G-Goku."

The komodo dragon turned from the tumble to Bulma, an inquisitive expression on its scaly face.

"K-K-Krillin."

The flamingo turned from peering at the flowers to Bulma.

Bulma was as white as the cotton shirt Krillin was wearing. She sunk to the floor, unable to even lift her hands to her head at the shock. One half of her mind whirred with possibilities, and the other just...stayed there. In absolute shock.

"Mom? Are you alright?"

That snapped her—that truly, truly snapped her. "No, darling. It seems that my father's my husband, my husband's my father, my children have exchanged bodies and my best friends are a fucking komodo dragon and a flamingo! A flamingo, for God's sake!"

"Woof!"

Their dog walked in, carrying a tea tray, followed by Mrs. Brief. On a leash.

"And my mom's a dog!" Bulma yelled. Her mind couldn't take this anymore, and shut down right on her.

"Bulma. Bulma."

Bulma slowly opened her eyes, and her father's wizened face loomed into her vision. "Oh, da—right. You're my husband."

He snorted. Dr. Briefs snorted. "You've got that right, woman."

Bulma slowly rose, and saw the komodo dragon sitting by her side. She could fucking cry, but it wasn't the time for all that. "Okay, everyone in the room, now. Da—Vegeta, go get everyone."

He crossed his arms over his bare, skinny chest and huffed. "No."

She had enough. She grabbed her dad/husband by his shoulder, and turned him to her. "You listen here. I am not fucking forsaking my husband so that I'm stuck with him in my dad's body for the rest of his damn life. Now, if you don't fucking do what I say, I will sit on you. And you may be able to flick me off like lint when you're you, but you're not you, so shut the fuck up and do as I say, okay?"

"I want a divorce."

"Get the hell out!" she yelled, and had the freakishly awkward pleasure of watching her dad/husband run out of the room. She turned to the komodo dragon. "You might be hungry, but if you so much as put your tongue out in my general direction, I will cut your tongue out...Goku. I mean it."

The large lizard stepped back, an awkward movement for the huge creature, while Bulma had trouble realizing that she'd called a lizard Goku. The flamingo, her children, her dad/husband, her husband/dad, Goku, Krillin, the dog and her mom on a leash entered the room, and she stared at all of them.

"Okay, so..." she turned to her husband/dad, who was probably the most sane person in the room. "What were you doing, dad?"

She had the pleasure of seeing her husband scratch his head thoughtfully, even if it was just the body. "Well...let's see. I was working on that battery you'd asked for the Gravity room when Vegeta came in with the broken bots. I took them from him, and saw the shrapnel in his arm. I tried to take it out, and...I was staring at myself."

Okay. Fine. That was an explanation. She turned to her children. "What were you upto?"

"Trunks was trying to snatch my board propellers!"

Bra gasped dramatically, something Bulma never thought she'd see. "You were eating off them! Eating!"

She watched as her children fought with each other, but Goku had her attention soon. "Goku, don't—!"

Goku rose, and chomped down on Krillin's head. Krillin squalled, and wailed when Goku sunk his teeth in.

"Tickles, sit!"

Goku released Krillin's head, spat out stray hair and sat back, head downcast.

"Thanks."

She saw Vegeta smile, and just had to turn away. "Please, for the love of God, don't smile."

"Oh. Sorry."

"But you can say that," she said, head snapping around. "As many times as you"—

"Woman! What are we to do?!"

Honestly, her dad's voice wasn't made for yelling. "I was thinking dragon ball hunting...We could wish you all back. Trunks—Oh..." She turned to her purple haired child. "Bra, how fast can you fly?"

Bulma had to live through the nightmare of seeing her eldest child snort. "Fast."

"Okay. Fine. Someone call Goten, and find the Dragon"—she stopped to stare at the dog.

It was pouring tea.

People were already moving—Bra had a phone in her hand and was saying, "Sup, dude?" while her dad in Vegeta's body went searching for the radar.

Bulma sat back, and tried to relax. The song at the junkfest sale...try remembering that, she told herself.

But she couldn't remember it for the life of her.

A/N: That's part one...Part two will be out soon.

This bloody thing isn't saving...I've already rewritten this thrice...and it's killing me.

And as for potty mouth...Vegeta in Dr. Brief's body's going to try and get really close to his wife, so there's going to be more potty mouth, don't worry.

Tell me what you think...Reviews make me hap-py!

R. K. Iris.