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The pristine silence of the Briefs' breakfast nook was broken by the frantic scritch-scratch of claws on tile.
Vegeta sat at the table, stoically nursing a cup of black coffee and trying to ignore the fact that a being capable of rewriting reality was currently chasing a rogue dust bunny around his feet. The Primordial Weaver—which Trunks had unimaginatively named "Sparky"—skidded across the floor.
"Trunks," Vegeta rumbled, not looking up from his coffee. "Control your...catastrophe."
Trunks, looking like he hadn't slept for at least a week, was desperately trying to toast a bagel. Sparky suddenly gave up on the dust bunny, chirped and teleported directly onto the table. It began sniffing Vegeta's coffee with intense, golden-eyed curiosity.
"No! Sparky, get down!" Trunks lunged for the dragon.
Sparky let out a defiant hiss and promptly knocked the coffee cup over with its tail. As the dark liquid spread across the table, Sparky began to bat at the puddles, purring rhythmically.
At that exact moment, the kitchen door burst open. Beerus and Whis entered, the God of Destruction looking like he was wearing three layers of protective Ki shielding and five prayers.
"Why is it still here?!" Beerus demanded, peeking over Whis' shoulder. "I haven't slept in seventy-two hours because I could feel its presence humming in the atmosphere!"
"It appears it has found the local cuisine quite appealing, Lord Beerus," Whis pointed out calmly, gesturing to the table where Sparky was now trying to eat Vegetas spoon.
Beerus let out a muffled shriek and scrambled to hide behind a decorative potted plant. "Its... its eating silverware! Once it's done with the cutlery, it'll eat the crust like a cracker! Vegeta, do something!"
Vegeta slowly stood up, his face a mask of pure, royal irritation. He reached out, grabbed Sparky by the middle, and hoisted the dragon into the air. The dragon went limp in his grip, its tongue poking out as it looked at Vegeta with utter innocence.
"Vegeta, put it down!" Beerus hissed from behind the leaves. "Youre holding it like a sack of potatoes! If it decides to take offense—"
Sparky chose that moment to sneeze.
A small, concentrated spark of white light shot from its snout, hitting the toaster Trunks had been fighting. The toaster didn't explode; instead, it began to sing a jaunty opera tune in an unknown language, sprouted tiny mechanical legs, and started dancing across the counter. Mid-pirouette, the machine spat out the bagel Trunks had been struggling with—now toasted to a perfect, shimmering gold—before hitting a, glass-shattering high note.
The room went dead silent, save for the toasters high-pitched tenor solo.
Goku appeared in the doorway, wearing his training Gi and holding a bag of apples. He blinked at the dancing toaster. "Whoa! Did Bulma make that?" he asked, looking genuinely impressed. "Thats so cool!"
Goku reached into his bag, pulled out an apple, and tossed it. Sparky vanished in a blur of gold light, intercepted the apple mid-air, and reappeared on Gokus shoulder, crunching happily.
"See, Beerus?" Goku laughed, scratching Sparky under the chin. "He's just like a dog!"
"I want to go home," Beerus whispered, his head sinking into his hands. "Whis, take me back to my planet. I can't live in a universe where a Weaver is being fed fruit by a Saiyan with the brain of a radish."
"Of course, Lord Beerus," Whis chuckled, tapping his staff. "But I must say, the toasters vibrato is quite impressive."
As they vanished, Trunks grabbed Sparky from Goku's shoulder. The dragon chirped, nuzzled Trunks' neck, and promptly fell asleep, its tail twitching contentedly. Taking a large bite of his perfectly toasted, suspiciously sparkly bagel, Trunks looked at the dancing, singing toaster, then at his father. "So... should I try to fix the thing?"
Vegeta sat back down and reached for a new cup of coffee. "Leave it. Its still better than your mothers singing."