FicWad

"Whacha gonna do with all that junk, all that junk inside your trunk? Ima get get get get you drunk, get you love drunk off mah-"

"What the hell are you doing?"

Vegeta turned around quickly to face the large green man who had just walked in and flushed slightly.

"I'm busy simulating sex, Greenbean. Go away." He barked at Piccolo, who had happened (unfortunately) on the scene of Vegeta practicing for his evening routine. Piccolo shrugged and walked past the vertically challenged man, reaching his locker a moment later. A few seconds afterwards he ducked in, retrieving something off one of the shelves. He looked at the small elastic object before waving it in front of Vegeta.

"Hey, this is yours, right?" Vegeta stopped his 'studying' and looked at the item. It was a small black band that looked like it would squeeze anything that it was put around.

"Fool, I have my clip here!" Vegeta threw his own handy thigh money-holder at Piccolo, who shrugged and tossed his back in his locker.

Piccolo didn't respond to the comment because at that moment, Tina decided to walk in. Even though it was Ladies Night, she sometimes came in to entertain some of the lesbians who showed up. Piccolo felt his stomach curl at the sight of her extravagant makeup and colorful wig.

"Hey boys." She said in a voice too deep for Piccolo's taste, moving with a body too TALL for his taste. "I lost my favorite G... have you all seen it? You know, the one with those cute gems..."

Piccolo snorted and shook his head. "I think I caught Vegeta smelling it, but other than that-"

"Shut your goddamn mouth!" Vegeta yelled, blushing a bright crimson. "And no, we haven't seen it. Why don't you ask that fruit Yamcha? He's probably planning on wearing it later."

Tina's nostrils flared at the thought as she paced around. "That dick. When is he coming tonight?"

"Probably too soon..." Piccolo muttered, taking off his shoes. Vegeta snickered and nodded his head in approval, making Tina snarl.

"You all are disgusting." She hissed, making Piccolo laugh outright.

"The money we all make is a little disgusting, isn't it? I wouldn't talk if I were you..." Piccolo waited until she was gone to utter the last part, "-fake tits."

Vegeta sighed in frustration and pointed at Piccolo. "You, which track are we starting to, huh? I was thinking more along the Party Boy line, but that faggot Yamcha wants to go with something slow and like...sexy."

"What a dick. Sexy my ass, more like lethargic. Besides, it's majority rules. Our feet up his ass beat the fact that he has the boss's dick in his mouth."

Vegeta snickered and took off his shirt, throwing it inside his locker. "Truer words were never spoken." He grabbed a container of a clear substance and threw it to Piccolo. Catching the odd little tube, Piccolo turned it over to read the label. Of course he knew it was body oil. They used it to make their bodies gleam in the pale light. He was just curious as to what brand it was.

"Grease Lightning, before you ask. It's supposed to be much better than that other stuff we've been using. I mean, it doesn't come off so easy when you sweat, so the gleam factor stays there long after the sweat's gone."

"Gleam factor?" Piccolo grinned, tossing the stuff back to his smaller companion. "I knew it, you are so gay. First that faggy song, now this-"

Piccolo stopped talking when Vegeta threw one of his discarded shoes at him, catching the green man on the side of the head. He grinned and threw it back at Vegeta, hitting him directly in the face.

"Cool it, short stuff. You know I'm yanking your chain."

"Who's yanking whose chain? Can I help?"

Piccolo and Vegeta both sighed as the slightly effeminate voice penetrated the changing room. Vegeta automatically put his shirt back on, and Piccolo made sure his fly was still safe and high. Both men put their shoes back on and waited for the inevitable. A moment later a saucy looking young man sauntered in, wearing a rather sassy look on his face. Piccolo and Vegeta exchanged looks before walking towards the door.

"He-e-e-ey! Where are you all going, huh? You have to go on stage soon, right?" The man put on a pouty face and rested his hands on his hips. Piccolo could detect traces of eyeliner on the fellow, and a glimmer traced his jutting-out lips. The green man knew for a fact that the latter didn't come from kissing any woman.

"Yamcha, we're just going to go um... grab something to eat. Vegeta's starving, and he has to work a double shift tonight..." Piccolo muttered, inching closer towards the door. What he really wanted to say was 'there is no chance I'm getting dressed with you in the room, for fear of getting molested.'

"Besides, Tina's a little mad at you, and I don't want to be around when she comes in. I think she finally caught on that you were using her makeup." Vegeta snickered and exited with Piccolo, leaving Yamcha on his own.

As soon as they were a safe distance away, Piccolo and Vegeta burst out laughing. "Glad we got the hell out of there." Piccolo grinned, getting a nod from Vegeta.

"Everytime I see that guy... makes a man want to cover his balls and run to safety, doesn't he?"

"You said it. This faggot, man... I swear, if I hadn't seen his wang before, I'd swear he was a chick."

The men turned a corner and found themselves in the lounge room of the club. Vegeta went over to the miniature fridge and pulled out two bottles of beer, tossing one to Piccolo. Piccolo got his keys out of his pocket and popped open the cap, tossing them to Vegeta afterwards. The man did the same and practically threw the keys back to Piccolo, grinning.

Piccolo shook his head and pocketed the keys, smiling. "What you need is some freakin' E, man. Your routine last time- total shit."

Vegeta bristled at the comment and sat in a plush chair. "Oh yeah? Who died and made YOU head stripper?"

"Exotic dancer, thank you." Piccolo chuckled and sat down in a chair opposite Vegeta. All I'm saying is the tips speak for themselves." Piccolo mimicked a kissing gesture as Vegeta flipped him off. "Thanks sweetheart. You know, it's not your fault. I'm simply found more exotic, that's all. Plus you're not flexible." And he wasn't. While Vegeta was muscular, his short stature prevented him from being able to more acrobatic movements. Piccolo's height, however, allowed the muscles to be distributed more evenly, and he had no problem doing, say, a backbend turned into a grab for the center pole.

However much Piccolo and Vegeta ragged on each other, though, they were a great team. They did some of their best work together, particularly in a large group of over-boozed, randy women. Vegeta had a more aggressive style, whereas Piccolo started cool and worked up to a feisty level, almost establishing a basis with the cheering woman. The only problem they had was when Yamcha came up and tried to dry hump them for the 'show's sake'. Everything goes in a strip-tease, except when the people participating were actually trying to do the nasty on stage. Well, one tried to...the other two looked horrified and usually ran to some horny woman for protection.

"Speaking of tips, did you see the chubby in Yamcha's pants? It looked like Christmas came early, if you know what I mean. Jesus, who sucked his dick to get him so hyped?"

Piccolo took a swallow of beer and turned the information over in his mind. It was highly discouraged for any of the employees at Aces Wild to be romantically involved. Not that there was ever any romance. Usually just involved two (sometimes three) people banging the hell out of each other between shows. However, Yamcha didn't have any boyfriends at the moment that Piccolo was aware of. He could always tell, because the fruity man would always get a sickeningly dreamy look on his face, and starting asking questions about a certain fellow faggot.

"No idea. I don't want to think about it, if that's ok with you." Piccolo sipped his beer again and looked at Vegeta, who looked contemplative. "What -or who- is eating you now, Veg? And I know it's not Tina this time. She's on her period, last I heard."

"Shut your pie-hole, Spock. What you said earlier... do you have any?"

Piccolo stared blankly at his partner and raised a brow. "Any...?"

"E, stupid. You got anything good, or were you just kidding?"

Piccolo's eyes shifted to the bottle in his hand. "I've only done Ecstasy once. That was more than enough. Shit got weird, don't try it."

Vegeta seemed to accept this answer and only shrugged as a reply. "Whatever, man. Hey, we better get back in the locker room after this. I bet the fag is about finished, so he shouldn't attempt to recreate a prison rape-scene."

"Fabulous. Let's just get in there and get it over with." Both men set down their bottles and walked to the door, hoping Yamcha was in fact done.

-

Piccolo grinned and winked at the audience as he began undoing the suspenders that held up the over-sized fireman's pants. A moment later the article of clothing dropped to the floor, and Piccolo was left standing in boots, speedo, and helmet. He looked to his right while continuing to move his body, grinning as Vegeta slung his military camos into the cheering crowd, black camo paint smeared under his eyes. His fingerless-gloved hands drew traces down his torso, the gleam of sweat clearly visible. Piccolo tossed his helmet to the crowd and made his way to the 'fire extinguisher' that rested by the edge of the stage. He calmly went over to Vegeta and grinned sinisterly at him before completely dousing him with ice cold water, making the women positively scream. He threw the empty canister behind him and slapped Vegeta's ass, making many females swoon in horniness.

"Look alive there, Veg. I wanted to wake you up, but be careful... Your nipples might poke someone's eyes out." Piccolo himself was coated in sweat, having been moving around quite a bit. His emerald skin gleamed in the shifting blue and red lights, making him appear almost as wet as the sopping Vegeta.

"Worry about your own show, cupcake." He hissed, shaking his hair onto Piccolo, who merely acted shocked.

"I never did like being in wet clothes." He said, walking to the stage and winking at a particularly loud woman, who shoved another one aside to push a wad of bills in the band around Piccolo's thigh. "Whatever should I do, ladies?" He bent down to ask the adoring fans, practically radiating testosterone with his deep voice.

"Take it ALL off!" The crowd screamed in unison, making Piccolo grin and slide his hands to his chest, and down farther to the edge of his barely-there loin covering.

"All of it?" He asked teasingly, which resounded in a loud response of "ALL OF IT!"

"Who am I to disappoint?" He asked while giving a final chuckle.