"Vegeta!"

There it was. The beast had awoken.

"Vege-ta!"

He'd know her high-pitched, screeching voice anywhere. He had only been residing on the planet for a month, maybe two, but even despite the short amount of time in which Vegeta had been living with Bulma, her signature shriek had still managed to seep into his brain quicker than any poison.

"Vegeta! Stop training and come eat dinner! I made roast beef!"

Vegeta paused from his vigorous Gravity Room training to consider her request. Bulma's irritating and demanding tone, ear-splittingly loud even from the kitchen 25 meters away, was enough to send shivers down the back of any normal man's spine. Thankfully for him, Vegeta was no normal man. He was the Prince of all Saiyans, a proverbial god amongst men! No mere Earth-woman would bend the will of a Saiyan Elite such as he, especially when all she was offering him was half a plate of over-cooked cow.

"Woman, I will eat when I am ready! Do not disturb me from my training!" Vegeta yelled back, trying to trump her shrill howl.

He heard no response in return, only the sound of a plateful of food being scraped into the trash can. Vegeta smirked triumphantly before returning to his 100x gravity push-ups. He was glad the woman hadn't put up a fight, even though he usually enjoyed their back-and-forth arguments. All he wanted to do tonight was train, and pretend for a while that he was some place nicer.

Rumble, rumble.

Vegeta was well into his eighth consecutive hour of training when the first pangs of hunger hit him. He saw no point in fighting his internal needs, so he quickly rounded off his chin-ups at 7,500 and headed for the kitchen, intent on choking down the remainders of the beef quickly so he could return to him training.

Just as he opened the fridge door, he realised his dilemma. Bulma hadn't saved the leftovers for him like she usually did, instead choosing – nay, daring – to let him starve! The Prince furrowed his eyebrows and glared at the confrontingly empty refrigerator, repressing the urge to blast the offending object into the next dimension.

Vegeta could practically hear the blue-haired woman smiling to herself from her bedroom, fully content with the thought of her house-guest going hungry. He growled softly. He'd show her. He'd show that wench that he was fully capable of taking care of himself.

Within seconds, Vegeta was standing in the Briefs' giant pantry, surrounded by canned goods, containers of dry pasta and packets of powder with promisingly delicious-looking meals pictured on the cover. His eyes widened for a moment, over-whelmed with the millions of possibilities. He had never cooked anything in his life, at least not the way Earthlings did. He longed to go outside and find a passing animal to devour, but he knew there'd be none around at this time of night, nor would his hosts find it at all acceptable. The Saiyan cursed under his breath. Since when did he care what the blasted Briefs family thought of him?

Rumble, rumble.

Vegeta found himself rummaging through the hundreds of mystery ingredients, desperate to find something to satisfy his growing appetite. His hands settled on a large plastic packet labelled 'Instant Gravy Mix'. On the cover was a tantalising picture of roast beef and vegetables, with a strange brown goo covering both. The Prince raised an eyebrow at the unusual substance.

Ruuuuumble.

It would have to do.

Vegeta studied the back of the packet as he darted into the kitchen.

'Simply add boiling water and stir for a delicious condiment in minutes!'

He scoffed. Even with his rapturous appetite, Vegeta hardly considered a roast beef with all the trimmings a condiment! He sighed. Earthlings got stranger every day.

Vegeta ripped open the packet and poured it into a large mixing bowl that Bulma had left conveniently in the sink. He cocked his head slightly. The contents of the sachet didn't look much like roast beef, but more like grey dirt. Maybe the roast would appear when he added the water. After all, stranger things had been known to happen on this repulsive planet. Tentatively, he turned the water faucet on, warming the water with his Ki as it sloshed into the bowl held under it. It didn't take long for the dirt to turn to a foul-smelling mud, but much to Vegeta's dismay, no roast was apparent. Maybe more water. He let the bowl fill to the brim, murky liquid threatening to spill into the sink, before turning the water off and growling deeply. Useless contraption! What the hell did it want him to do?

His eyes darted to the discarded packet lying on the floor. Even from such a distance, his Saiyan eyes had no trouble reading it.

"Add boiling water and... stir!" Vegeta muttered, eyes widening upon the discovery of his obvious oversight. He turned back to the watery monstrosity, sure that this last vital step would earn him his delicious roast dinner. Without hesitation, he began to swirl his fist around in the bowl, not caring about the strange goo splashing onto the floor. He licked his lips, stirring the mixture as fast as he could. Finally, he could show that pathetic Earth woman that he was fully capable of getting whatever he desired all by himself. She would be horrified when she realised how much better his roast was in comparison to hers! He managed a small smirk. At last, he could shut her up once and for-

Splash!

Vegeta yelled out a string of curses, dropping the bowl of ever-foul brown gunk directly onto his foot. He wiped haphazardly at the goo that had landed right on his cheek, desperately spitting out any trace of the salty substance. He did not know what the gooey thing was, but it certainly did not taste like roast beef! He kicked the upturned bowl off his shoe and slammed his foot as hard as he could into the wood of the bench he was standing over, channelling all his fury into the movement. In the same moment he found himself falling to the floor, landing on his back in a puddle of the definitely-not-roast-beef substance. He cursed loudly, not caring who he woke up.

'Idiot!' He reprimanded himself internally, 'No wonder you fell, the floor is covered in your foul little experiment!'

The Prince of all Saiyans sighed and carefully attempted to stand up, not bothering to wipe the gunk off himself quite yet. The first thing he needed to do was clean up the kitchen so the blue-haired wench didn't find out about his spectacular failure. He looked around. The faucet had begun spraying cold water in a number of directions. The foreign brown slime covered every possible surface in the room. There was a hole in the bench.

Rumble. Ruuuumble.

Vegeta let out a small sob. This was not going to be easy.