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Goku's Resturaunt

"AAAARGH!" came the scream from the kitchen. The female at the table looked up casually, raised her eyebrows, then promptly went back to reading her magazine. The cook was, as usual, trying to fix some disaster already declared illegally in 40 of the 50 states, and, as usual, had succeeded in burning not only himself but also half the kitchen. About that time, a frying pan was hurled through the door and landed at her feet. This was getting rather annoying to her. "Goku!" she screamed in a shrill voice capable of shattering glass when she so willed it. The cook emerged from the kitchen, fuming, both literally and figuratively, greasy apron adorning the front of his ratty, torn gi. Black hair framed his face, which was smudged with dirt and God-knows-what from the mighty explosion in the back. Hands on hips, he waited to hear why he had been called out. He quickly received his answer.

"What on Earth are you doing back there? You sound like you just murdered something!" He snorted derisively.

"I did...my sanity."

Chi-Chi sighed and handed the cooking pot back to him. "Well, could you try to keep it down a little, please? Some of us are trying to work here." Goku looked around the restaurant. From what he could see, he was the only one doing any work at the moment. Chi-Chi had been sitting at a table for the better half of an hour, flipping idly through a magazine that lay open before her. Gohan was sitting on the complete other side of the building, reading a book and absentmindedly nibbling on a plate of french fries at his side. And his dishwashers...ah, those trusty, loyal dishwashers...they had long ago given up actually working after only a week of a real job, and, having nowhere else to turn, Goku took Goten and Trunks under his wing and gave them jobs as the official keepers of the cleanliness of the restaurant. Unfortunately, Goku had been under the misguided conception that these boys actually intended on working, and Trunks and Goten had apparently been under the assumption that there was no work to be done. Of course, they had done a little in their first week or so of employment. Washing several loads of dishes just as fast as El' Busboy could bring them, and had somehow convinced Goku that they were going to earn their money. He quickly learned, however, that all in life is not as it would seem. He sighed and, clutching the frying pan tighter, made his way back to the kitchen.

"Oh my..." he started as he saw his "masterpiece" bubbling over into the floor. Vegetables, fruits, and an odd-looking orange goo was now covering the stove he had been using and the counters around it. "Yo, Goten!" he yelled behind his back, hoping one of the dishwashers would hear him. It wasn't Goten that showed up, but Trunks at his side. He sighed again. Close enough. "I need this cleaned up, and I need it cleaned now! We're about to hit dinner time...you know that's when we're busiest. I expect this clean by the time I get back." Trunks saluted him, smiled, then took to the stove with a feather duster. Goku began to correct him, but he figured it would keep him busy and out of trouble, so at least it served a little purpose. He then leaned back and took a glance around the kitchen. Pots and pans and bowls and other cooking utensils lined the racks above the stoves and tables, and in the side was the dish washer, where Goten stood watching the dirty plates going by on the conveyor belt. Goku started to ask him why he was just watching, but quickly decided against it. It was not his matter, not his job, and not his concern. He was, however, concerned with the growing hatefulness of his busboy. Gohan had been such a light-hearted, carefree when he first employed him. He now hated all humanity with a passion, or so it seemed. So much so that he had even taken up smoking to discus people from bothering him. Pushing open the door, Goku looked out and saw him sitting in the farthest corner of the restaurant, still reading. The door to the restaurant opened then, and in walked their first customers of the night. "Show time," he muttered as he tapped Chi-Chi on the shoulder and pointed at the people about to sit down.

"Do I have to?" she whined back at him. He pulled a dollar bill from his pocket, waved it, and she took the hint. He had developed that method long ago as a reminder: no work, no pay. She rose to her feet and walked over to the small family at the front. The family was, of course, a "perfect" one with two perfectly married people, a perfect young son, and a perfect older sister. She assumed their dog wore sweaters, too. They smiled when they saw her, the husband speaking first.

"This seems like a fine place to eat! We'll just have your special, thanks." Chi-Chi frowned.

"Yeah, ya might, but first you have to have a seat. This way." She smiled faintly and "showed" them to a table. Goku made a mental note to talk to her. She merely pointed at a table and told the family that "it's free," then left to go back to her magazine. She was almost back when the father called her back over to them.

"Um, Miss...we're ready to order now." Chi-Chi breathed a sigh of relief. At least this might go quickly. "We want...a steak, medium rare, no side dressings. Tossed salad, no radishes. Hamburger, no pinkness or anything like that." Goku frowned then. Were they insulting his cooking? He was a perfectly fine cook, at least in his own mind. The father continued, much to Chi-Chi's chagrin. "Four Cokes. No, make that three Cokes and a Mountain Dew." Chi-Chi marked out her writing and quickly scribbled something down. She turned to leave when the father spoke again. "Excuse me, I change my mind. Just make it two Cokes and a Mountain Dew, and a glass of water with chipped ice." Chi-Chi gritted her teeth, but remembered "service with a smile" and, after doing so, turned to go back to the kitchen. Again the father drew her back. "We're not done ordering yet, Ma'am." Chi-Chi had heard enough by this point.

"Yes, you are." and before the father could respond, she had left and wandered back to where Goku stood, watching with a bemused expression on his face. The youngest son in the family, however, took it upon himself to wander around the place, eventually stumbling upon the less-than-humorous Gohan at his table. He looked down at the little human at his side.

"What?" he asked gruffly. The boy climbed up in the seat across from him. Gohan, sighing, narrowed his eyes at the child. "Did I tell you, you could sit there?" The boy shook his head no.

"Whatcha reading'?" he asked through a gap toothed smile. Gohan looked across at him.

"A book. What's it to ya?"

"Is it a good book?"

"Very, but only when little annoying people aren't bothering me." The child didn't take the hint.

"Why is your shirt red like that?" Gohan thought back to the Kool-Aid another annoying brat had spilled on him earlier that day, but he decided he could use that to his advantage now.

"Because there was another little boy, just like you, that came in here earlier. He bugged me so much, I took him back in the kitchen and put him through the meat grinder. Any questions?" The boy, eyes wide, let out a small whimper and then ran screaming back to his parents. Gohan smiled and went back to his reading. "That'll teach the little brat to mess with me."

In the back, Goku's watched as his masterpieces were being brought out of the oven one by one, each a virtual work of art. The steak was perfect (once you ignored that annoying red liquid running from it) and the salad had not one trace of a radish. He was rather pleased with himself. After placing them all on plates and then on one big tray, he sent Chi-Chi back to the table of perfect people and crying child. She asked half-heartedly if they'd like anything more, and it was brought to her attention by the mother that her ice was block, not chipped as requested. Chi-Chi took the cup, put an ice cube in her mouth, then chewed it up and spit it back.

"There...it's chipped now," she replied casually as she left the now disgusted family alone. Gohan looked up from his place at the table and actually smiled. She seemed to be the only one that shared his opinion of this place. Suddenly a bus pulled up outside, causing Gohan's face to drain of all color. He immediately dropped his book and ran back to the kitchen, swinging open the door and subsequently throwing a plate full of macaroni salad back at Goku. "Dude....we got a problem!" Goku looked at him, annoyed, but interested as to why Gohan, of all people, actually acted excited.

"What?" he asked drolly as he picked a yellow noodle from his hair.

"Look," Gohan pointed outside. Goku had much the same reaction as had Gohan. "Church group!"

Goku's jaw dropped open. A swarm of people unloaded off the bus and made their ways to the restaurant. He looked back in the kitchen, saw his limited resources, and then watched as Goten remained fascinated by the spinning plates. "Oh crap..." he muttered under his breath. He looked back out the door, seeing the people wading in through the front doors of the building. He then directed his attention to Gohan, grinning sheepishly. "Gohan...buddy...pal," he started, putting an arm around his shoulder. Gohan glared suspiciously. "You know, we have a lot of hungry people out there....and one waitress that can't serve them all...and you're free..." Gohan's frown deepened.

"You didn't hire me to be a waiter." Gohan grinned like a cheesy used car salesman.

"True, true. But we need another special someone to help out..." He cut his sentence short, letting the words sink in. The effect was not the one he had anticipated.

"Hell no!" Gohan yelled as he turned to make his way back out the door into the dining room.

Goku grabbed him and pulled him back, almost desperate.

"Listen to me, Gohan. I'll double your pay tonight. You'll only have to pull a shift until these people leave, okay?" Gohan replied with a sardonic smile.

"Ooh, double pay! You're going to pay me four dollars now? Wow!" and with that, he turned and walked out and back to his table, leaving Goku shocked and out of options. He glanced about himself frantically, unsure of what exactly he could do. He decided he had only one option left- beg for all his worth. Going out into the dining room and locating Gohan, he sat down across from him and put his hands palms-down on the table between them.

"Please, Gohan. I'm begging you. Please help me." Gohan raised an eyebrow.

"Do I still have to clean up after everyone?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Gohan smiled.

"Then all I can say is you're outta luck, pal." Goku wailed. "Please!" he screamed, making the perfect family across from them look their direction. He blushed then, noticing the many pairs of eyes boring holes in his head. He continued, softer this time. "I really need another waitre.. er...waiter. I'll do anything, Gohan. Please!" This, apparently, interested Gohan greatly. "Anything?" he repeated, an evil glint coming to his eyes. Goku got the sudden feeling he was going to live to regret this, but he figured when he had one option left, it was worth the price. He nodded, and Gohan grinned brightly.

"Sure, I'll help ya out, Dad!" he replied heartily as he slapped Goku on his back, going back to the kitchen to get a notepad. Goku breathed a sigh of relief. Now if only he could get Goten out of that trance...It was tough getting all the people seated and waited on with only two people working the tables, but eventually everyone was satisfied, and the majority of the crowd was being fed happily, though half of what they ordered was either not what they wanted or merely resembled what they had ordered. However, getting everyone seated and taking their orders was only half the battle. There was still the food to be shipped out. Chi-Chi tore off the paper she had been writing on and handed it back to Goku through the window in front of the kitchen. The State Health Department had informed him that things would have been much more efficient had he opted to take the technological route as most restaurants did these days, and install computers and monitors everywhere. Gohan had even offered free maintenance care on the systems. But no, Goku was old fashioned in his ways and preferred the cheaper and, then it had seemed, less complicated route. He remembered all this with terrible clarity as he stared miserably at the growing pile of papers on the counter, finding it harder to tell one order from the other. He sighed, cracked an egg in the bowl, and began his fifty-third omelet of the night. "What kind of people eat omelets for dinner?" he muttered as he started the blender.

The doors to the kitchen swung open, and in bussed Gohan, holding a basket full of dirty dishes, glasses, and other miscellaneous items. He dumped the box's contents into the water beside Goten and Trunks, wondering how the hell they had ever gotten a job anywhere, then remembered he was pulling two shifts tonight. He cursed Goku under his breath and made his way back out the door.

Trunks looked up just in time to see the plates about to fall from piling up so high. "Oh dear.." he said softly as he quickly ran over to hold them in place. "Goten!" he yelled, hoping he could somehow get his distinguished counterpart to his side. He had no such luck. "GOTEN!" he tried again. And again no response. Trunks gave up, letting the dishes fall to the floor. Goku, hearing the crash, considered ordering paper plates next pay period. One good thing, however, did come of this; Goten, for the first time since he'd turned on the dish washer, was fully aware of his surroundings. Like a deer caught in headlights, he froze, looked about himself, then calmed back down. Trunks tapped his shoulders, pointed to the still-considerable amount of dirty dishes, and the two quickly got to "work" on cleaning the place up. Goku sighed and called for one of his employees to take the veggie burger to the Goth in the corner. Meanwhile, Trunks and Goten were hard at work, with Goten closely inspecting the dishes in the sink. Trunks picked up a nearby cookie sheet and grinned madly. "Hey Goten..." he started, sneaking up behind him. "Hey Goten, turn around!" Goten did as instructed and was promptly hit over the head with the pan. He fell on the floor, down but not out, then quickly got back up. For some strange reason, Trunks got the urge to start singing "Tubthumping", but he quickly decided against it. Goten slowly rose to his feet, grabbing a nearby bottle of mustard to defend himself. He began squirting it at his partner, Trunks using the cookie sheet as a shield until he found the bottle of ketchup that had been beside the mustard. They both then began fighting each other armed with table condiments. Goten soon learned that his weapon was not going to do much and, finding a bowl of fruit punch Goku had set out to be taken to a table, dumped it over Trunk's head. That was a mistake. Trunks screamed and then began aimlessly running through the kitchen, successfully scaring Goku lifeless. Goten swiftly moved behind him.

"....the hell did you do to him?!" Goku demanded, looking beside him to the shocked Goten. He shook his head slowly, not quite sure himself.

"You know the scene in 'Carrie' where she totally flips out and starts frying people at the prom?" Goku nodded. "Well..." Goku nodded again, this time a bit more reluctantly. About that time, Gohan ran in with two more baskets of dishes and, seeing the irate Trunks, left just as quickly as he had come.

******

Gohan scrubbed the table one last time, then threw the rag in the basket where the other dishes had been piled. "Ahhhh...I hate this damned job...." he grumbled in a gruff voice, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and looking down at the table. "Stupid kids. Can't clean up after themselves." Various items had been spilled everywhere, and Gohan had learned that dried ketchup was not kind to wooden tables. "Good enough." The last customer had left just as they were closing nearly half an hour ago, and the restaurant was still recovering from the scare they had experienced earlier. Two ketchup fights, a mad cook with a knife whose steak had been insulted, and a Carrie reenactment later, they were all still alive to tell about it, and for that, Gohan was grateful. Trunks and Goten had long since fallen asleep in the back, Goten clutching a rolling pin next to him as an added safety precaution. Goku had been left to clean up the kitchen by himself, but Gohan was not in the least sorry for him. He looked up and over to see Chi-Chi sitting happily by herself, counting and recounting the considerable amount of tips she had made. She noticed him staring at her and smiled cheerfully. He smiled sarcastically in return.

"Well, guys, looks like we're alive for another day, huh?" Goku asked as he walked out of the kitchen, sitting down at the table Gohan had been scrubbing for the past five minutes.

Much to his surprise, Gohan smiled. "An eventful evening it was, Dad," he said, putting emphasis on the last word. Goku suddenly felt uneasy. "And about that deal..."

********

"No, no, no...she wants the maxis with the WINGS, Goku...I'm sorry, these won't do." Gohan handed the small package back to the cook, sending him back into the store. This made his third trip back to Wal-Mart, and Gohan was sure that, that number could, and likely would, increase. Earlier he had been given a rather embarrassing shopping list from his significant other and, while he would always strive to please her, he never promised her that it would be *him* that did the actual shopping. Fifteen minutes later, Goku reemerged from the store, red faced and quiet. He shoved the bag at Gohan. Digging through it, Gohan held up the packages of various female items and showed Goku the pantyhose. "Dad...I told you control top. The list clearly states that you would get control top!" Goku groaned.

"Come on...they had to blare out over the speakers asking if they could have help in the women's sanitary department! Don't be cruel to me like this, Gohan, I'm still a Saiyan!" Gohan grinned and handed the bag back to him. "As far as I'm concerned, you sold your soul to the devil. Now go, errand boy. I don't have all day." Goku cursed under his breath and headed back into the store yet again. Gohan leaned back in his seat in the car and turned the stereo up louder. He always knew his dad was good for something.

The End