Continued from: http://www.cdbzrpg.com/forum/showpost.ph...stcount=17
Reijin had been pulling various drinks off the shelf, using his flashlight to help him read the different labels. If anything could be considered a success while on this planet, it was the discovery of this very bottle cellar, although he hadn't figured out yet why there was a cellar on this planet of fighters.
At the least, however, he had a location to help him sit out the rain. Except by now he was ready to embrace the cool drops of rain as an alternative to the dry musty humidity trapped beneath the door. "The sand is holding in the cool air but the humidity from this rain is doing nothing for the drinks!" he growled, holding a half empty bottle within his hand while the flashlight sat nearby on the table.
He jabbed a finger into the sand beneath him as he drew out images of people into the floorboards with it, imagining within his mind that they were fighters he knew, rising to fight each other on this planet. To him, the floorboard covered in the sand from above had turned into a battle map, designed to plan out his war strategy in the way of the ancient warrior.
Jun'ai, unfortunately, was brooding within his mind, able to see all of the moving drawings within his imagination as she could any other memory that she chose to peruse from boredom. In some ways she found it entertaining just watching his delusions, while in others she was fairly pissed off. She wanted him to finish the tournament up and to also go train for what the future held.
He, on the other hand, was now sitting on the ground in nothing more than his boxers with a bottle of alcohol within his palm while drawing in the sand with the pitchfork. "And over here I'm going to place Raditzu, running around with his girly hair in an attempt to be the big dumb idiot taking everyone on at once, while over here I'm going to put a big dragon, even more fierce than Shenron himself as he flies over head blazing the ground beneath him!"
There are no dragons on this planet, you idiot! Jun'ai was having a hard time imagining this. She knew that Saiyans had a strong tolerance to alcohol, but that did nothing for the 23 empty bottles lying at his feet nearby. He had indeed been quite bored. It was a wonder that he was still managing to form complete sentences. You are drunk! she insisted at him.
He shook his head a bit harder than he planned, feeling very heavy under the effects of the bottle. Lifting up the one in his hand he pointed at a specific place on the label. "No! It says 180 proof, woman. That's only 90% alcohol. I am a Saiyan. I can't get drunk off of this watered down crap! Why would you waste such a good drink by diluting it with water anyway? It makes no sense at all..." he grumbled, pointing back down at his battle strategy. "Now here, the dragon Trogdor is going to set everything on fire and then Raditzu is going to run crying from the flames. Over here is going to be a large city and I will be standing on top of this building here and see Raditzu running by beneath me so that I can jump down and fight Trogdor." He capitalized on this obvously great plan by taking another swig of the drink.
You are drunk! she repeated for the fourth time, watching him shrug it off once more. Besides that, what do these bad drawings have to do with this tournament?
"I'm getting to part if you would you just listen!" he spoke in completely broken English, jabbing the image with his pitchfork once more.
Within his head, Jun'ai scratched off the comment of his management to form complete sentences and sighed inaudibly.
Reijin had been pulling various drinks off the shelf, using his flashlight to help him read the different labels. If anything could be considered a success while on this planet, it was the discovery of this very bottle cellar, although he hadn't figured out yet why there was a cellar on this planet of fighters.
At the least, however, he had a location to help him sit out the rain. Except by now he was ready to embrace the cool drops of rain as an alternative to the dry musty humidity trapped beneath the door. "The sand is holding in the cool air but the humidity from this rain is doing nothing for the drinks!" he growled, holding a half empty bottle within his hand while the flashlight sat nearby on the table.
He jabbed a finger into the sand beneath him as he drew out images of people into the floorboards with it, imagining within his mind that they were fighters he knew, rising to fight each other on this planet. To him, the floorboard covered in the sand from above had turned into a battle map, designed to plan out his war strategy in the way of the ancient warrior.
Jun'ai, unfortunately, was brooding within his mind, able to see all of the moving drawings within his imagination as she could any other memory that she chose to peruse from boredom. In some ways she found it entertaining just watching his delusions, while in others she was fairly pissed off. She wanted him to finish the tournament up and to also go train for what the future held.
He, on the other hand, was now sitting on the ground in nothing more than his boxers with a bottle of alcohol within his palm while drawing in the sand with the pitchfork. "And over here I'm going to place Raditzu, running around with his girly hair in an attempt to be the big dumb idiot taking everyone on at once, while over here I'm going to put a big dragon, even more fierce than Shenron himself as he flies over head blazing the ground beneath him!"
There are no dragons on this planet, you idiot! Jun'ai was having a hard time imagining this. She knew that Saiyans had a strong tolerance to alcohol, but that did nothing for the 23 empty bottles lying at his feet nearby. He had indeed been quite bored. It was a wonder that he was still managing to form complete sentences. You are drunk! she insisted at him.
He shook his head a bit harder than he planned, feeling very heavy under the effects of the bottle. Lifting up the one in his hand he pointed at a specific place on the label. "No! It says 180 proof, woman. That's only 90% alcohol. I am a Saiyan. I can't get drunk off of this watered down crap! Why would you waste such a good drink by diluting it with water anyway? It makes no sense at all..." he grumbled, pointing back down at his battle strategy. "Now here, the dragon Trogdor is going to set everything on fire and then Raditzu is going to run crying from the flames. Over here is going to be a large city and I will be standing on top of this building here and see Raditzu running by beneath me so that I can jump down and fight Trogdor." He capitalized on this obvously great plan by taking another swig of the drink.
You are drunk! she repeated for the fourth time, watching him shrug it off once more. Besides that, what do these bad drawings have to do with this tournament?
"I'm getting to part if you would you just listen!" he spoke in completely broken English, jabbing the image with his pitchfork once more.
Within his head, Jun'ai scratched off the comment of his management to form complete sentences and sighed inaudibly.
![[Image: reijinchefsig.jpg]](http://i18.photobucket.com/albums/b121/warpzone116/reijinchefsig.jpg)
"I'm gonna fuck that unicorrrrrn"