Battle Royale w. Cheese! Turn 1.3 - Bulma and 18 (Wetshirt Waterpark) (Patreon)

“Unbelievable!” Bulma’s bare sole struck the stone tile with a smack. “First they force us into these indecent outfits.” She gave a bikini strap a pinch and released it with a snap. “Then they blow up the escape pod! All I did was try to take it apart. It’s not like they gave us any weapons or anything.”

“Didn’t you used to love wearing things like this?” said Android 18, pinching her bottoms. “Krillin told me you were always dressing up in skimpy outfits.”

Bulma scowled. “That little–! I did no such thing.” Folding her arms, she huffed. “Those damn cat freaks. If my husband were here, he’d–”

Android 18 sighed. Clenching her fist, she tried to marshal her ki again, without result. She doubted Vegeta would have any more success.

Before them loomed a vast, sprawling tangle of harsh metal pipes, all overlapping and gurgling and fenced by barbed wire. Smokestacks belched in the distance, leaving the air stinking of sulfur and chlorine and other chemicals 18 didn’t recognize.

Directly ahead stood a gate with a sign and ticket booth. ‘WETSHIRT WATERPARK!’ read the former, its font bright and bubbly and utterly opposed to the place’s industrial architecture.

Android 18 took a cautious step forward. “Should we try and go in?”

“What for?” said Bulma, folding her arms. “That’s clearly what they want us to do. Why should we go along with it?”

18 flicked a glance at the little eye-drones hovering above them. “I’m worried that if we don’t do what they want, they might make us.” She gave the Collar around her neck a little tap. “Besides, we should look for something to fight with.”

Bulma scowled but didn’t argue.

With a sigh, 18 approached the ticket booth. As she reached the gate, something went ding! “Hello! Welcome to Wetshirt Waterpark! Tickets are currently free of charge! Would nyou like to enter, nya?”

18 frowned. “...I guess?”

“Yay! I’m sure nyou’ll have so much fun! Oh, but please be warned: we do have a dress code!”

Bulma raised an eyebrow. “A dress code? You’ve already made us change once, what more could you possibly–”

A pair of mechanical arms extended from the booth, each holding a plain, white t-shirt. “If nyou’d like to enter, please put these on, nya!”

18 took one of the shirts and held it up. ‘WETSHIRT WATERPARK,’ it read in that same bubbly font.

Bulma and 18 shared a glance.

“I suppose that’s not too bad,” said Bulma. With a shrug, the pair slipped the shirts on.

“Purrfect!” said the voice in the box. “Nyow, please hold still!”

“Hold still–?” said Bulma. “What would we–?”

Streams of water squirted the two of them in the chest.

“Urgh!” cried Bulma, raising her arm to shield her face. “What the hell?!” 18 tried to block, but it had little effect.

The streams soon stopped, but the damage was already done: both of their shirts were soaking wet…

…and, as a result, completely see-through. 18 shuddered at the feeling of the sodden fabric against her breasts.

“What the hell?!” said Bulma, moving to pull hers off. “We were already in bikinis! Why would you even–?!”

“Ah ah ah!” said the voice from the box. One of the mechanical arms wagged a finger. “If nyou take nyour shirts off, nyou won’t be allowed in, nya.”

Bulma scowled.

“We could always go the other way,” said 18, turning away from the gate. Behind them lay a forest of palm trees, thick, colorful fruits hanging off their trunks.

“After being put through that?” said Bulma. “No thank you. I’m not paying that entry fee twice.”

18 shrugged. “Wetshirt Waterpark it is then…”

“Good decision!” said the ticket booth. With a squeak, the gate swung open. 18 silent, Bulma grumbling, the two stepped through.

As the gate squeaked shut behind them, 18 looked around. Now that they were inside, the sheer scale of the Waterpark became apparent. Pipes overlapped pipes like a thousand rival snakes; behemoth tanks sat squat, straining to hold their contents; pumps gurgled and hummed and worked. It reminded her eerily of Dr. Gero’s lab…

Nearby, there stood a helpful map of the park and the surrounding areas. ‘NYOU ARE HERE!’ it read, pointing to the gate. Back outside lay the forest they’d seen before: ‘JUICY JUNGLE’. Ahead: an assortment of rides… ‘SLIDE OF SURPRISE’, ‘RIVER OF RELAXATION’, ‘WHIRLPOOL OF___!’ (The final word had been scrubbed off.)

Also: ‘CHANGING ROOMS’. 18 tugged at her sodden shirt. That might be nice.

In the far right corner of the map was a picture of a volcano with the label: ‘LEWD LABORATORY’. Peeking past the sign, 18 could see it in the distance, smoldering beyond the pipes. That could be a good place to start too…

“What do you think?” she asked Bulma. “Where should we–?”

The Collar around her neck beeped.