Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)

Artik opened his box up. There was a bell jar and a lump of clay. He read the instructions, "'Sculpt the clay into the desired shape with a telepathic emission from one's antennae.' Dammit." He shouted into his satchel and the TARDIS briefly materialised, then vanished.

"Hi, Artie."

"Hello, Stan." Artik sighed. Where was Oran when you needed him? "I need you to use your feelers to make a Dragon."

He nodded. "As soon as you get me the planet's leader."

Artik inhaled sharply, "CYYYYYRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLLL."

Cyril popped into existence. "Yo."
He was trying out modern Earth lingo.

Artik sighed. "What kinda Dragonballs do you want?"

"oOoOoO." Cyril thought for a moment. "Silver, 7 of them, 2-3 wishes?"

Stan nodded. "I can do silver with green stars, and two wishes. The electric pulse will be more intense, though. ((200 Words))" He took a breath, "Would you like an albino colouring of Shrenron or Porunga, or something else?"

"Could we get a dragon with wings for a change?"

Stan nodded, showing thw clay mold into a Western Dragon with a long tail like other Eternal Dragons. "Done." The balls appeared and scattered.

"Sweet."

Artik yawned as he set off for Heaven's Dragonballs. "Nine words down," he muttered, "fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen," he blinked profusely, "What?" He shrugged it off, as he did with most things, and spun around. "Wheee." He fell down a hillside and tumbled into a spire. But not just a spire. The spire. The BROWNSTONE SPIRE. The SPIRE that people appeal to when they reeeallly need help. "Help me, O' SPIRE."

The SPIRE spoke, "Yes. I shall help you. You seek an answer to your sexuality."

"Exactly! Yes! No! No, that's wrong!" He added, "SPIRE, sir."

"Here's a Dragonball," he said.

"Yay!" Artik checked his radar. "Hmm. Thattaway!"

He trekked down a mountain. Up a gorge. Across a river. Out the sky. This a way and that a way. And then he realised he ITed to the wrong planet. Returning to Heaven, he sesrched for another Dragon Ball, satisfied that he could find one tight underneath a very large rock. This rock was so descriptive, with it's dazzling colors and smell, that it took a lot of words to describe it. Like right now. I mean, damn. It's just so descriptive. Sooo very descriptive. Just six bloody words left. "Hah! Second ball!"

He did somersaults to his next destination. Not his Final Destination. Those movies are SHIT. Fucking sucks. Like Tyler Perry. Overrated space dick. Space duck. "Quack," Artik said.

"Quack!" He heard a response, rapidly approaching. It was a beast. A large one. The size of an office building.

"The Majestic Space Duck," Artik said breathlessly. "Quacks me up every time." He laughed. A lot. A lot, a lot. Alot? Aloof? Aluminum? Numinex. Halogen. Gen Six Pokémon. Mongolians. Carcinogens. Gen six Pokémon. Aloof. Alons-y." He sighed, realizing he was standing on something, "Cool! Number three!" He cheered.

On the way to the next ball, he recounted his experiances with the DMV.

Artik looked over his new license. "Who the hell is Artik Walsh?" He took out a revolver. "Alright, I guess this is the night bitches die." He discarded the weapon and license upon remembering his powers. "Alright, I shrug. I blink, 'What,' I say." He nodded to himself, "Yeah... If my life were a story, that'd be perfect!" The Dragonball was within reach. He just needed to extend his arm and... "I can fly," he sighed. "._.," he said. Whatever the hell that means. Damn morse code. He pocketed the Dragonball.

"Yaaay!"

Artik then wrote a stinging political song about abortion and the legalization of the marijuanas. Also, civil rights. And gays. Them thur gays. Cat anus.

"What the hell's 'DragonBall Fanfiction?'," he asked, blinking at his Scouter. "What? That never happened! I was there! Pan's just a toddler!" He shuddered and found something about an apple and a blonde guy. He didn't know how the hell he felt. Yawning, he bought an ice cream cone.

"Sorry, sir. What wss that?"

"I said," he sighed, "A chocolate cone."

"Look, if you're gonna order, don't---" Artik ran off, "I got a Dragonball! Two to go."

He coughed heavily and went to a bar for some water. "Water, please." The barkeep grunted and poured him his poison. Artik gacked on the clear liquid. "I said water!"

"That is water. From Mars' ice caps."

Artik grimaced, "That's... Highly disconcerting."

The barkeep obviously didn't know about the Martian Flood. Artik took out his Sonic and put it on the Purple Setting and pointed it at himself. "There. Harmful foreign bodies killed."

The barkeep was busy trying to clean a silver ball. "Dammit," he said, giving up, "take this."

Artik pocketed the dragonball and wandered off. "I got the last Dragonball!"

He blinked, "Yeah. That's what I'm gonna say when I find it."

Artik blinked.

Artik blinked back.

"Hello."

"Lo."

"Future me?"

"Mhm."

"I see."

"Hey guys," a third Artik said.

"Hi, future me," the other two said.
"Wanna have a universe-shattering day?"

"Duh."

"I remember this," Elder Artik said fondly, "twice over. You," he pointed at Artik, "are about to say 'really'."

"Really?"

The Artiks gasped. Middle Artik laughed at the memory. "And now you say, 'Gaaay'."

"Gaaay!"

"And then Gato appears."

"No! We're not seeing him again."

"That's what you think."

The Artiks disappeared. Our Artik found a dragonball.

[[ Approved ]]

Artik summoned the Dragon...

"Fucking hour."

Ryuga appeared by artik.

Cyril twiddled his thumbs. "Hi Ryuga. Haven't seen you for awhile."

Artik blinked. "When did you gain the ability to teleport... I'm just gonna say the TARDIS picked you up." Hevpaused, "The TARDIS picked you up."

"Yeah lets go with that, and I have been busy Cyril. One cannot simply travel to heaven to see you every day." He said waiting for the dragon.

"You could write..." Cyril trailed off. "You really ought to get your own spaceship some time."

Artik twiddled his thumbs. "Well, the Cosmic Saiyans exist."

"Shall we get on with it then?" He said crossing his arms.

"Really? They came back with the planet then?" Cyril checked his pocket watch. Any minute now.

Artik nodded, "They will in about ten days. They had on those nifty wrist devices that takes a person near death and sets them out of synch until the entered coordinates are declared safe."

"That is rather handy." He said impressed.

Cyril nodded. "I'm eager to see them.'

Artik blinked. "It's time."

A huge, frosty-white, western-style dragon burst from the collected dragon balls. "I am the Eternal Dragon known as..." there was a pause. "Herminos. State your wishes."

"I wish to reach my next transformation." Ryuga stated staring up at the dragon.