#i would call it sarcasm but apparently my delivery is at times so deadpan as to be indistinguishable from my regular statements

[neonphoenix]

Reminder to self that you need to have known people for a minimum amount of time before you can start lying to them as a joke.

[samantha-bradford]

Rooftop Traditions

Two steps at a time Sam ascended the staircase of Quinn's building, the place was low-income and home to some rather shady individuals who made her skin crawl. That and the less-than-ideal weather never seemed to stop their little tradition of meeting up after the last shift of the week, even if she was loathing Quinn's choice of drink.

Reaching the door at the top she immediately spotted the shorter woman a few feet away. A crate used as a makeshift table, two smaller boxes as seats. She was seated in front of the storm lantern with a children's book in hand, likely for the girl's reading lessons. A thermos and two mismatched and dinged up mugs were placed for either of them, the contents steaming from the metal vessels.

Quinn had on an oversized sweater, clean and new. The amount of newer clothing she seemed to be collecting had not gone unnoticed and Sam quietly questioned where her friend was getting the money, or if she was taking gifts from an unknown suitor.

"Another new piece of clothing?" Sam chimed as she approached the meeting place. "Either you found another job or you've been raking in bigger tips from the patrons. Not keeping one around like a sugar daddy and not telling me are you?"

A mischievous grin pulled across Samantha's lips as she shot Quinn a playfully teasing wink. "One of these days you need to let me take you shopping then, or are you holding out and secretly have a stash of scandalous lingerie hidden away?"

Quinn glances up from the book, and her smile comes easily at her friend's ribbing.  "Look it's gettin' colder these last few days.  I needed a new sweater."  She reached for the thermos to unscrew the cap, pouring dark steaming liquid into the second mug for Sam's arrival.

"Hot chocolate and cream liqueur.  Deal with it, it was my week to choose the drink and I have a sweet tooth craving.  And no, I'm not keeping a patron as a sugar daddy, you know my rules.  No sex with customers." As usual not a real answer about where the money is coming from, just about where it's not.

Sam's nose crinkles up at the drink and her eyes roll as her seat was taken. "Uh-huh. Plenty of things you can do that isn't sex, Quinn. Stray hand here, a brush there. Oh, or maybe it's a sugar mommy instead?" A small shrug accompanied the light-hearted tease as a soft laugh caught in the throat.

"How are the lessons going, anyway?" She gave a shallow nod to the children's book Quinn had in hand.

"There's no sugar!  I earn it all fair like," some credibility to the 'other job' theory maybe.  She scoops up her mug, taking a sip, wrapping her other arm about her midsection against the cooling evening.

"It's goin' slow.  Guess that makes sense, kids spend a few years learnin' this stuff right?  Some days feel like I'm makin' a lot of progress.  Other days it just makes me feel like the dumbest idiot what ever lived."

A short and stifled snicker managed to escape at the reaction Sam had gotten, biting the tip of her tongue in amusement before begrudgingly taking a sip of her drink.

"We'll call it both? The dumbest idiot who makes lots of progress." One hand moved across the air as she spoke, adding a bit of flair to her tease as if the words were appearing in lights. "But we love you all the same, even if the menu changes are hell."

"Thanks," the reply a dry deadpan of sarcasm as she gives her best friend a blank look before shaking her head at the display.  "Anyway, I'll get it.  It's time to better myself a bit right?  Work in the scummiest slummiest bar Stormwind's got to offer and even the dishwasher, bless his little heart, reads better'n I do."

Eyes roll, but the corner of her smile is visible at the corner of her lips all the same.  "Menu changes no worse than usual, I got a good memory for that kind of thing.  Just don't ask me to be the one writin' 'em.  What about you?  How'd the date the other night go?  You're alive still I see."

"Calling it a date is cute." Sam quipped simply before another sip. "Free diner, hard to turn down. He seemed kinda clingy though so I figured not great to get in bed with. Parted ways at his place and carried on the rest of the way home. Think he wanted a kiss but that's a damn shame ain't it?"

"Damn shame," Quinn agrees, lifting her mug in a mock toast.  "I knew he seemed clingy even at the bar, the way he practically floated around after you all night.  Better have been a damned good dinner." She bites her tongue in the rest of her usual speech on the risks and dangers.

"Been relieved those city guards who seemed to have the hots for me have cooled.  Maybe they found a new barmaid to hit on.  Makes my shift quieter, and the patrons less restless." She may trust Sam more than most, but that doesn't mean she ever told her the real reason she had guards in paying her attention all the time.

"I picked the most expensive thing on the menu, so I'd say it was good." A small smile pulled on the lips as if she was proud of herself.

"Well, I'm sure they'll be back eventually, considering everything that happened lately they probably just had their hands full. Or maybe you're right and they just found another bar, heard the Lamb hired some busty bimbo. Sort of a shame though, that lieutenant woman was at least cute. Bet she had some tones under that plate armor too."

"I wouldn't know!" Quinn's reply comes a bit quick and loud, a pink coming to her cheeks as she finds herself exceptionally focused on her mug for a moment and very much not on Sam.  For now, she doesn't comment on the meal, but it sounds like how most of the woman's 'dates' seem to go.

"No clients, remember?" Her usual mantra repeated a bit wistfully this time.  As if she could ever hide from her friend the crush she'd had on the Lieutenant in question. "Anyway yeah, I guess a lot was goin' on.  Maybe that pulled them away.  Whatever their business was a fleetin' thing and they didn't tip great.  We work the kinda place people go not to be seen by guards.  Easier this way."

"Yeah, yeah, I remember. But are they a client if they don't order a drink, or just not sit in your sections?" Both brows lifted as she teased, her head turning just a bit with a faint incline as the smile creased her lips further. "You can't sit there and tell me you've never thought of that woman bench pressing you just for fun, hmm?"

"Might not be a client if they don't come to our bar anymore either," Quinn grumbles.  Her blush only grows deeper, fair-skinned cheeks flushed.  A cheesy grin that she is trying very very hard to suppress, scrunching up her face at that last sentence.   "Light, you're just the worst.  People tell you it's good to have a best friend but hells, no one needs someone to call them out like this."

Fingers snapped as Sam quickly pointed across the makeshift table. "That wasn't a denial. I fucking knew it. And you love me, wouldn't know what to do without me. Besides, I wouldn't have to call you out if you weren't so stubborn and in denial. How else am I supposed to set you up with the handsome new delivery boy from the mills." She nonchalantly took a sip of the drink, eyes trained on Quinn over the brim of the mug.

"I'm not tryin' to get set up Sam!  Light, I'm about to turn twenty one just, give me some time to breathe!" Nevermind that she's basically not been on a date in the year or so they've been working together.  "And no, wasn't a denial, she was cute but c'mon, she was off-limits for more reasons than just bein' a patron. ��You saw her ring, someone special must've put that there yeah?"

Unscrewing the top of the thermos, she tops up her mug, a fresh waft of steam and the scent of chocolate.  "You got plenty of dates for us both anyway, and besides.  My time is just too full right now.  Got to learn this," a thump on the book, "so I can write so I can do my job." Not that the bar involves a lot of writing.

"Oh come on! He's only a year older than you and just a couple of inches taller, what could go wrong? Big arms, big hands, probably a big something else. I've never seen you on a date, or even talk about one. When was even the last time you had some fun with something other than your hand?" One brow lifted this time as she gave Quinn a look as if trying to call a non-existent bluff.

"Hey, I would sleep with him once.  Probably have a great night.  But then when I don't want more than that he's goin' to come cryin' to you, and then we have an angry disappointed delivery boy.  I try to keep my one night conquests to people we got no connections to thank you." Setting her mug on the box, she leans back on her hands, splaying them behind her and hidden beneath her voluminous sleeves.  "Last month," she replies pointedly to Quinn.  "Hooked up with a guy I met at Jeanne's little going away thing.  I'm sure you saw the guy chattin' me up?  That one.  Went back to his place and got my fix."

"Wouldn't have to be a one-night thing," Sam mumbled into a sip with a hard roll of her eyes. Quinn's sudden confession had her nearly choke on the drink, a hand quickly covering her mouth but the grin still apparent with the faint chuckle.

"Well, he was at least a looker. I'd say that was an evening well spent then, even if I was the one going home alone at that time."

"Yeah well, see?  I'm not a total loaner.  I get mine.  I just keep it away from my professional life.  No one who could fuck up my job, or my friendships, you know?  Just keeps it all safe and easy that way.  I'll settle down eventually, I got no rush.  I'm, you know, acceptably petite so I can find a partner when I'm ready.  I get it, not everyone wants a Giantess so you gotta get settled earlier." The near choke does make her smirk in satisfaction though, she doesn't get to surprise Sam often.

"Who you calling Giantess you pigmy? Everyone is a giant to you and I'm certainly not looking to get settled, thank you. It sounds like work, with expectations of being a wife then probably a mother. If I wanted a gilded prison that badly I'd start fishing in the noble waters, they all got a mistress these days I'm sure."

"So find a nice girl to settle with.  Then you don't gotta be a mother ever unless you adopt.  Plus I bet lots of ladies would be happy to be on the arm of someone who can pick them up, or reach the top shelf.  Why are you so keen to set me up with someone when you don't even want to settle yourself?"

"Because why not?"

Scooping a pebble off the roof, she launches the tiny stone over the box at Sam's arm.  "I hate you some days."

Snickering as the pebble bounced off the arm, Sam smiled softly. "Everyone does some days, that's fine. But you wouldn't know what to do without me."

"I was bussing tables at the Pig well before you started and I got on just fine." A smirk, "but all things considered, yeah, I wouldn't want to lose you just yet."

"Bussing tables with that top button closed like an amateur, you mean."

"Yeah, like I still do thank you very much," Quinn retorts.  "I know you pull bigger tips than I do, I'm just glad to have steady pay.  I got grabbed enough before the Pig, I don't need it there.  I'll let the wandering hands go to them who don't mind 'em."

"Still wouldn't hurt to show off some leg now and again." Sam bit the tip of her tongue in a slight smile, teasing light-heartedly. "I only mind when they don't know when to quit, I got limits and standards after all."

"Do you?"  Quinn asks with a sarcastic tone and a self-satisfied smirk into her mug.  "Haven't seen them yet."

"Oh fuck you!" Sam quickly retorted, malicious tones absent as it was her turn to fling a pebble across the table. "I've turned down plenty of advances and you fucking know it, you brat."

Quinn laughs, obviously enjoying herself as she settles back on one hand again, sipping her drink.  "You have, I know.  I have to find at least one high horse to hold over you, don't always want to be the short one."

"And I'm going to laugh when you're the one with a dozen children instead of me." Sam retorted, matter-of-factly.

"I don't think you're legally allowed to have children, it could do real damage if you dropped one from that height."

Brows knit together as Sam’s jaw dropped in mock offense. "Elves manage to survive!"

Quinn laughed and shook her head, killing the rest of her drink.  "Dumbass.  Anyway, I gotta head downstairs to my place and do some w...things.  Catch you for a shift in a few days?"

"Uh-huh. Things..." Finishing her drink Sam watches Quinn over the edge of the mug, the smirk obvious as she insinuated other things. "And you know it, I'll see you next shift."

"Things!"  Quinn pushes to her feet, scooping up the thermos and her mug. "Whatever, don't worry about it," she grumbles, heading for the door on the roof that leads down into the building proper.

With a look and chuckle of amusement, Sam followed soon after. Making a poor attempt, if any, to hide her grin.

[ @quinn-varden​ ]

[enterprisetrampstamp]

and on and on

also on ao3

carol's world has just fallen apart. her dad tried to start an intergalactic war, a supervillain from the 1990s viciously broke her knee, and she almost died, twice. jim kirk- a tentative ally, a future friend- did.

(and then he didn't.)

so it goes.

she's not sure what she signed up for, except maybe her apparently-callously-evil father's approval, but she doesn't think it was this. she should've...

carol wanted to be a biologist, once upon a time; she'd even double majored in her undergrad before turning down a path she's regretted ever since. she could go back to school, couldn't she? it's not like she has anyone to impress with her proficiency in weaponry any longer.

this is the thought behind her humorless snort as she tosses back some of scotty's mystery liquor; it's the thought nyota, with a tired whisp of something approximating a smile, doesn't ask about as she raises her glass in sarcastic toast.

"amen to that, sister."

carol asks, "does it ever get easier?"

and nyota lies, "of course it does."

they lean into each other, tipsily trusting, as they abandon the officer's lounge later that night. still later, carol doesn't ship out on the five year mission.

before they leave, she clings to jim, a friend turned family in the intervening months of rummy played over hospital sidetables and old movies watched in sweats and old tshirts, and she tries to shake dr. mccoy's legendary hand before he tugs her in with a curmudgeonly scoff and soft eyes, his tall frame bowed to fit around hers.

nyota is already aboard the shuttle.

carol waves goodbye, receiving a soft smile and a flutter of fingertips in return, and this should, by all rights, be the end of their acquaintance. other than one slightly drunken night of conversation and assorted pleasantries exchanged as they passed in the halls of starfleet, they don't really know each other.

yet--

it's nyota she calls when she grows frustrated with the world of academia once more. "I already have a doctorate," she bemoans. she's not even really so old as to be out of place among the other grad students, and yet she feels it.

"should've just gone for a masters," nyota mocks.

"bite me."

"only if you ask nicely," comes the prim response, and carol's startled into laughter.

nyota comms her, too; carol listens dutifully to complaints about jim, complaints about spock, complaints about the two of them together and also the rest of the bridge crew and, more sparingly, the officers under nyota's command in the communications division.

sometimes, nyota calls with nothing to say in particular; on these nights, her smile is soft, her eyeliner removed, her lipstick smudged on the rim of the mug jim recently bought her as a joke--Number One Dad.

(dr. mccoy, of course, had received one labelled "Number One Mom", and spock's had been edited to simply read "Number One".)

carol isn't sure when her calls with nyota had become a part of her routine, but she can't deny how off kilter she feels when the enterprise finally passes out of easy range of earth. nyota had warned her when they last spoke several days before, but that doesn't change the way carol's smile slides from her face when her comm attempt results in an error message.

(in the days following, she does not mope, and anyone suggesting otherwise should remember that at this point in time, her knowledge of the anatomy of terran vertebrates is still secondary to her understanding of the design, construction, and operation of advanced weaponry.)

life, as it always does, moves on.

carol graduates, the enterprise swings back into the quadrant on a diplomatic mission, and jim, somehow, remembers her birthday, after one offhand comment made a third of the way into a gallon of mint chocolate ice cream.

"come visit; we can have a party," he says, but he's using his captain voice.

"you can't sit around and wait for one woman to catch up to you," she scoffs.

"we're about to be on shore leave," he insists. "c’mon, carol, bones misses you." he leans in, eyebrows raised. “nyota misses you.”

and that is... apparently the end of that.

of course, jim has a little more in mind than a simple visit. carol's greeted by him down on one knee, a party hat set jauntily atop his head and a set of science blues held forward on a throw cushion she definitely recognizes from that time jim "broke" them into dr. mccoy's apartment to "borrow" the good booze. "I know you've already gotten a couple other offers, so if you aren’t interested, then no hard--"

"are you kidding me? fork them over."

carol immediately pulls the dress over her head before shedding her shirt and shorts with the ease of a girl who played club football for years and often had to change into her uniform and boots in the back of a hovercar.

who in their right mind would turn down a posting on the flagship? she's positively gleeful as she cancels her passage home and requests her roommates pack her things into storage.

"told you she couldn't resist my charm," jim boasts.

"this is in spite of your 'charm', not because of it," carol shoots back.

nyota slings an arm around her shoulders as jim gasps in mock betrayal. "oh, you'll fit in just fine," carol's told, nyota's voice thick with laughter, and it's strange how the world fell to pieces years ago and yet carol's never felt more complete.

there's no time limit on their conversations now, no impending termination of communication; if carol had thought nyota a part of her routine before, it's only because she hadn’t been able to imagine brown toes tucked under her thigh as their owner waves around a gag gift of a mug and tries out the sounds of a new language. carol smiles to herself and idly scours the mission brief for the familiar--anatomy, hostility, and societal faux pas the likes of which she's known since she was a child at her mother's knee.

a jack of all trades, jim calls her sometimes.

(carol appreciates the look in nyota's eye when he does, given how often she finds herself swooning over nyota's vast array of musical, linguistical, and physical skill sets.)

their first kiss feels--inevitable.

and yet neither of them is willing to take that step, to admit they've long since passed from acquaintances to friends to something else altogether. carol considers, briefly, asking jim for advice--

but, well.

there’s spock.

he's something of an enigma to carol; an adversary turned ally turned good friends' good friend turned workplace supervisor. she both knows him and doesn't, stories she's been told by nyota and jim and dr. mccoy at odds with their lightly antagonistic start. his deadpan sort of sarcasm is both familiar from her british youth and utterly alien in its delivery; the professionalism with which he addresses her, at once soothing and unsettling.

she straightens her shoulders, chin lifted defiantly, as she regards him. this new year's party is a battle ground, and one from which carol intends to walk away the winner.

"how did you do it?" is both an innocuous question, and a highly inappropriate thing to ask of a man she barely knows, given the implied meaning behind it.

spock is very tall, and his eyes are very dark as he watches her right back. "I did nothing," he admits, because there's no point in pretending he doesn't know what she means. "what nyota wants, she chases."

this is, of course, not the answer carol is looking for, given that nyota has had- and forsaken- ample opportunity to chase her.

carol bites her lip and asks, "shall I just give up then?"

spock doesn’t hesitate: "I should think not."

carol nods her agreement, and then, because she's had just enough alcohol to think it’s the best way to thank him for his candor, she asks him to dance. at midnight, spock obligingly leans down to allow her to press a chaste kiss to his forehead, and on the other side of the room nyota laughs as mr. scott and keenser- standing on the back of the couch- kiss her cheeks simultaneously.

they’re adrift in space, no world turning beneath their feet, and still they celebrate the passage of 365 days as if there is:

life. goes. on.

carol locks herself in her room on the anniversary of the night her father died; the night jim died; the night her life shattered along with the bones in her knee. tomorrow, she’ll scrub her cheeks, replicate some ice cream, and celebrate that most of those things aren’t relevant any more.

tonight, she mourns that they ever had to happen to her at all.

is it getting any easier? nyota asks, the words small and black on the screen of carol’s padd.

not really.

yeah. me either.

wanna talk?

gonna open the door?

for you, maybe.

this isn’t the night that carol finally kisses nyota, but it is the night that she falls asleep upright on the couch, nyota’s cheek against her thigh and gently musical snores curling through her quarters. it’s the night that carol listens because she’s not yet ready to speak, and it’s the night that carol realizes nyota isn’t sure what to do when the chase is over before it’s even begun.

their first kiss is--inevitable.

their first kiss is just the first of many.

[slothcritic]

Dragon Ball Z Abridged - Episode 2

A better followup with actual characters.

And They All Lived Happily Ever… Oh… starts off with some better-handled exposition than we were given last episode. In this one, it seems more to work into Goku's character than simply for the sake of getting the plot established and out of the way. We also get more development here, where it becomes apparent that apart from being just "the idiot" he's also "the annoying idiot". Sure it's hilarious to watch, but from the point of view of anyone else in the show, his dense and naive nature can be infuriating (more on that later though...)

Also the genesis of the yoshi joke. Though I just realized, in the background during this is a faint rustling sound. This is either the background noise of a bad microphone or great sound design of the rustling of clothing as they fly through the air. I actually only noticed it because it stops so abruptly when Goku asks if he could ride Piccolo. Not sure why that is.

After the title sequence, we're back to Raditz immediately peaking his microphone with poor voice acting. Gohan is crying for obvious reasons, and an annoyed Raditz chucks him into the soundproof timeout pod.

To TFS’ credit, they seemed to have picked up at least some of the problems the first episode had, as Goku directly calls Raditz on revealing plot points that haven't been explained yet, specifically Raditz referring to Piccolo as a Namekian.

This is both fourth-wall breaking and tongue-in-cheek jab at themselves. It really seems like it shouldn't work, but honestly I think it does. My reasoning is because it's funny. It in fact only works because of how badly they screwed up in the first episode with the writing. It might also hint at some kind of humility or the ability to laugh at themselves, which is the absolute heart and soul of improving with comedy.

Returning to the plot, Piccolo casts off his cape and it makes a big thud when it lands. Goku asks if Piccolo wears weighted training clothes as well, and Piccolo responds in deadpan, saying no, he just loves to get naked around Goku. Raditz however, takes this literally.

This whole exchange is a little weird. It almost works, especially with the Harvey Birdman zinger at the end, but the bad "Shut up!" afterwards kills the momentum. It would have been much cleaner and smoother if it had immediately transitioned into the fight scene after Harvey Birdman.

Speaking of, the fight scene has no lip flaps. I don't know how I feel about this. On the one hand, this is way, way before TFS started splicing lip flaps from other scenes or having Kirbopher draw up new ones. On the other, it's a little weird to hear a character speaking out loud and then not see their lips moving. Goku's incessant, futile attempts to attack Raditz also make me feel like he's not just stubborn, but also too dumb to quit... which might not that far off from canon Goku.

Raditz fires a Double Sunday (or whatever name you want to call it) at Goku and Piccolo. Goku taunts Raditz for missing him.

"My bad."

Into the dirt with you, Goku. When their fast-paced material hits, it hits hard.

It's then revealed that Piccolo has lost his left arm to that attack. Goku begins an awkward series of "high five, handshake, thumbs up" but keeps cutting himself off, rather like how Raditz cut off Piccolo's arm. This doesn't work however, as all of the examples given can be done with the one arm Piccolo still has. The delivery does more than the actual line does, to MasakoX's credit.

TFS then takes a direct line from the Funimation dub - "Has anyone seen my arm? You can't miss it, it's green". I'm sure they do this a few times, perhaps more than I'm aware, but this just sort of seems... I wouldn't say it's bad, because it's a funny line that can work with the scene, but it just feels lazy to me. Like they needed to give Raditz a line, and said "Eh, why not?"

Piccolo then begins what might the ultimate brick joke when he tells Goku to stall Raditz for five minutes while he charges the Makosnuffleupagus. This whole scene is probably the best in the episode. From Piccolo's explanation of the situation, to Goku's background screams, to Piccolo singing Mahna Mahna.

Goku manages to catch Raditz by the tail twice, the context of which is not explained: Raditz as a Saiyan becomes crippled with pain if his tail is squeezed. He simply asks "please" and then "pretty please" to be let go, and Goku obliges. This further expands Goku's character as someone with the capacity to see redemption in anyone, but also how incredibly gullible he can be. And stupid. Verrrry stupid.

Goku is now flat on his back with Raditz crushing his ribs. Speaking of stupid, Goku tries to correct Raditz that Piccolo is not a Namekian, but a Yoshi. He does not understand what sarcasm is and wants to eat it.

Raditz peaks his microphone again and Goku pulls a Homer Simpson - "I think you broke my--!! Mmm... Ribs..."

It's at this time that Gohan completely smashes out of the space pod and headbutts Raditz, cracking his armor. The "We get it, you're from space!" joke was born here, but it honestly isn't funny. It's out of left field and isn't really warranted, since "space pod" makes sense but "space armor" is just a forced non-sequitur to prompt the punchline.

Goku is completely shocked, as so far with the combined efforts of himself and Piccolo, the two strongest people on the planet, they have collectively done Jack and Shit. To say, four year Gohan just outperformed both of them with a single blow. Though to say he's a good father is a stretch, as he seems a little more focused on Gohan's fighting ability than his safety as the shit-wrecker of the week is currently looming over him. Yes, enjoy it while you can, Raditz, this is the only episode where you're not a joke.

Raditz then backhands the ever loving shit out of Gohan. This was a risky play, kind of like this episodes version of the voice actor fight in the first episode, but I still find this holds up fairly well. Raditz is clearly an evil character, and the KaiserNeko voice-over crosses the line twice when it tries to address the scene in the fourth wall. Is it necessary? I'd say yes. It needs to happen to set up the next sequence of events. The pause and voice-over works to address it head-on and really twist the nail in rather than just letting it fly by and have the viewer go "Wait, did that just happen?"

Goku once again showing his great father skills by worrying about what his wife will do to him if Gohan dies, rather than worrying about Gohan dying. Raditz prepares to mind-crush the four year old, and Goku suddenly activates hero mode and full-nelsons Raditz with quite a few broken ribs. Cue a rather funny scene of Raditz struggling to break free of something so inconsequential to the rest of what's transpired.

Oh yeah, Piccolo's still a thing. And his Mekkacockadoodledoo is done charging. Goku warns him to let him know before he attacks Raditz, because he’s right behind him.

Piccolo however plans to kill the both of them at the same time. But can you blame him? The characterizations this episode have kind of set the scene for this to happen, and it's not out of left field or at all out of character for either of them: Piccolo's maniacal plotting and Goku's oblivious, trusting nature.

The pronunciation of the "Special Beam Cannon" attack's Japanese name is also a fairly long brick joke, but on its own it's funny enough just because of the ridiculousness of the attack's name - Makankosappo for those who can't be bothered to look it up on Google. Using this, Piccolo takes out Raditz, Goku and their brand deal.

Raditz dies with a cheesy "damn you hindsight" and Goku dies because there's apparently a hole in his esophagus (there's not). Piccolo regrows his arm with an insanely metal yell, nicks Gohan, and then fucks out of there. The Krillin Owned Count then goes up to 2 because Roshi tells him to shut up... Yeah, not getting good use of this so far.

Conclusion

Much better than the first episode, actually. Though still with its own issues, it seems there’s either more to work with or TFS was trying a different, more successful approach to writing.

Characters are more developed whereas Non-Characters are staying as Non-Characters. Goku gets the most in my opinion, as he was just the “plot vehicle” in the first episode. More of Piccolo, who was still stellar in this episode, and... some Raditz? He has some hilarious lines and zingers but we don’t really get to know more about him aside from he’s an evil dick. Everyone else still gets nothing.

Writing is... Okay? It’s definitely not bad, and parts were genuinely enjoyable, but I wouldn’t say its very good overall. There were about as many or even fewer “misses” as far as punchlines, jokes or spoken dialogue compared to the first episode but and MANY more “hits”

However, unlike the first episode, there wasn’t a satisfying conclusion. The episode ends like a limp noodle and peters out immensely once the fight is over. The Special Beam Cannon is the climax of the fight but that doesn’t mean everything has to be stale after it.

Microphone quality seems inconsistent across the cast, but is mostly still terrible with Raditz.

Score: 68

Passing Thoughts

"Now I can just sit back and- [BEEP BEEP BEEP] -beat the crap out of whoever's coming. Sigh. Great." - Probably Raditz's best line/delivery so far. It's so sarcastic and weary in tone that I can't help but love it.

"Attacking an opponent roughly four times your strength in a one-on-one battle. A cunning strategy. No, no not cunning. What's the opposite of that?"

"RETARDED?!" - A joke that’s probably no longer in their style of writing, but it’s one of the better ones of Season 1. Political correctness aside, it’s just so sudden and blunt that it can’t help but make me burst out into laughter.

"A full nelson? That won't work on me. I'm Raditz!... Okay let go... Seriously this is starting to piss me off!"

"Riiiiicola!"