“Gifted and Leashed”
Scene One: The Road to Nowhere, Somewhere in Costcovia

Android 18—retired from combat, now a suburban matriarch with a smartphone addiction and a toddler who runs like she’s powered by Red Ribbon rocket fuel—walks barefoot down a sun-bleached road. Her lavender shirt is knotted with defiance, her belly unapologetically leading the way, and her eyes—finally open—scan the screen like it holds the secrets to peace, or at least a decent meme.

The child, leash-clipped to the back of her green dress, is a blur of joy and chaos. Her name is Marzipan, and she’s not just fast—she’s emotionally radioactive. Every giggle is a sonic boom. Every footstep is a rebellion against nap time. Android 18 doesn’t flinch. She’s seen worse. She’s raised Krillin.

Behind them, Krillin—now rebranded as “K-Daddy”—staggers under a tower of gift boxes so absurdly tall it looks like a vertical clown car. Each box contains a different emotional burden:

• The pink one? Regret over buying Marzipan a drum set.
• The blue one? A passive-aggressive apology from Bulma.
• The green one? A subscription to “Zen Parenting for Ex-Assassins.”
• The top box? A teddy bear with a thousand-yard stare.

K-Daddy’s beard glistens with sweat. His feet slap the pavement like he’s in a Looney Tunes chase scene. He’s trying to catch up, but the gifts are heavy and his dignity is fragile.

Android 18 doesn’t look back. She’s texting Piccolo.

“U ever feel like ur life is a filler episode?”
“Every day,” he replies.

Marzipan shrieks with joy, chasing a butterfly that may or may not be sentient. The leash stretches. Android 18 tightens her grip. Her eyes narrow—not in anger, but in focus. She’s not just a mom. She’s a sentinel. A warrior of weird domesticity.

And somewhere, just off-frame, the road bends toward a surprise birthday party that no one asked for, hosted by Master Roshi in a bounce house shaped like Shenron.