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Mr. Satan was taking a lovely afternoon nap when he was awoken by the sound of Buu coming back from another day of mass-murder.
"I'm back, Mr. Satan!" he said as he entered their house.
"Welcome back, Buu!" Mr. Satan said, terrified out of his wits and putting on a false display of cheeriness.
Buu looked solemn. "Mr. Satan," he said, "what's this?"
Buu held out a magazine, which Mr. Satan took. It only took a single look at the cover to tell that it was a porn magazine.
"W-where did you get this!?" Mr. Satan said, unsuccessfully trying to prevent himself from blushing.
Buu scratched his head. "I . . . think I got it from one of the people I killed? Paper doesn't taste as good when you turn it into chocolate, so I just picked it up and didn't know what it was so I wanted to see if you knew. I don't understand what they're doing."
As a father, Mr. Satan had, of course, given the talk to Videl. Well, he had attempted to. When she turned thirteen, he had sat her down and explained to her in graphic detail how babies were made, only for her to reveal at the end of it that she had known that for years before promptly bursting into gales of laughter at his expense.
It was one of the most embarrassing moments of his life.
And now he was supposed to give that same talk to a murderous pink monster.
"W-well," he began, gingerly placing the trashy magazine on the ground, "Buu, do you have a mommy and daddy?"
"No. Bibidi made me."
Mr. Satan decided he wasn't even going to ask - Buu was such an odd creature that he wasn't sure he wanted to know the details involved in his creation. "Uh, well, with humans, you need a boy and a girl to make more humans. They have to, uhh . . . how do I put this . . . "
"I have a question," Buu said, raising his hand. "If you need humans to make more humans, where did the first humans come from?"
"Magic," Mr. Satan replied hastily. "They came from magic." He wasn't going to go into a biology lecture, especially when he had never paid much attention to the class himself.
"Then why don't we just make more humans with more magic?"
"Because . . . all the wizards died." If Mr. Satan could get out of explaining the birds and the bees to Buu by conjuring up some fantastic tale about wizards, he would gladly take the opportunity.
"Oh. Like how I killed Babidi?" Buu asked cheerily.
"Uh. Yes." Mr. Satan didn't quite know who that was, but it was something.
"What a nice story! Thank you, Mr. Satan!" Buu turned to leave, but seemed to realize something and turned around. "Wait! You didn't tell me what the people in the magazine were doing!"
Damn. "Oh, right! Ha, ha, I forgot! The, uh . . . the . . . " I'll just do it quickly, like ripping off a band-aid! he thought. "Boy humans have a thing called a penis that they use to put a baby inside the girl human," he said hastily, hardly believing the filth that was coming out of his mouth. It was one thing to tell Videl, but Buu?
There was an awkward pause. Buu finally said, "What's a penis?"
No. No. He was not answering that. He should have expected as much, but there was NO WAY he was EVER going to -
"H-here, I'll show you," he said, picking up the magazine and flipping to a random page. "That's a penis, Buu."
He supposed this was slightly preferable to being eaten.
Buu peered in closer. "But those are both boys."
Mr. Satan hadn't actually given the magazine a close look - to his horror, it was man-on-man. Bara, specifically, according to what he had picked up from snooping around in Videl's computer files. "Uh, s-sometimes boys do . . . that with, uh, other boys."
"Can boys make babies too?"
"NO!" Mr. Satan said frantically. He took a moment to clear his throat before continuing. He would need an analogy to explain this. "Buu, what makes you happy?"
"Hmmm," he tapped a finger to his chin, "I like eating, making people run away while I destroy cities, Mr. Satan . . . that's all, I think."
Mr. Satan was flattered, but pressed on. "Well, in the same way you like eating, humans like doing . . . that. They get hungry for more, but it, uh, feels good instead of tasting good." That was the worst analogy ever.
Buu looked horrified. "Does that mean you eat babies!?"
"What? Of course not!" Mr. Satan shook his head hastily. "No, no, I mean the act of making the baby. They like it so much that sometimes they do it just because they like it, not because they want babies." He briefly wondered why Buu would even care if they ate babies, then dismissed it as just another one of his many, many oddities. "And since boys can't make babies, sometimes boys do it with other boys!" Incorrect, of course, but it was easier than explaining human sexuality. Even Mr. Satan himself didn't completely understand it.
Buu said nothing, instead looking down at his feet solemnly for several seconds. Suddenly, he looked up. "Mr. Satan," he asked, "you're a boy, right?"
Mr. Satan didn't like where this was going. "I am," he responded dubiously.
"Do YOU have a penis?"
"Well, I . . . I do, yes."
"Can I see?" Buu asked excitedly.
"Wha- no!" Mr. Satan spluttered, taking a step back. This wasn't happening.
Buu pouted. "Why not?"
"Because . . . " Mr. Satan pondered that for a moment. He could probably get out of this by taking advantage of Buu's lack of knowledge about human culture. "Only people we really love get to see those. Yeah, that's it. The boys in the magazine really love each other!"
If Buu was really curious, he could probably dig up a video that Mr. Satan had posted on the internet in a drunken stupor several months after the defeat of Cell. The media had never really let him live that one down. Neither had Videl.
"But I love you a lot, Mr. Satan!" Buu cried.
Mr. Satan said nothing for several moments, processing what Buu had just told him. He seriously doubted that Buu actually loved him in that way, but it was still very odd to have the being responsible for wiping out most of your species say he loved you. A lot.
"No, you don't . . . it's not like that between us!" he said, gesturing wildly with his hands. "I . . . love you too, but we're just friends! And I love being your friend!" He wasn't exactly sure how true most of that was, but he didn't want to risk angering him. "It's . . . hard to explain romantic love, to someone who hasn't felt it before."
Buu sat down with a comical plop. "It sounds really nice," he said softly.
Mr. Satan thought briefly of his late wife and her lovely smile. How he missed her. "Yeah," he said, "it is."
Buu suddenly perked up. "How do you make someone romantic love you?"
"Hah, people have been trying to figure that one out for years," Mr. Satan said. "But, uh, you can give them presents, take them to nice places, do fun things with them, and plenty of psychologists have written books on the science of - oh." Mr. Satan suddenly realized where Buu was probably going with this.
"Ah, I see! Thank you, Mr. Satan! I'll be right back, okay?" Buu said cheerily, running out of the house.
"Uh, s-sure," Mr. Satan said, not sure how he should feel about this whole situation. He watched with stupefaction as Buu took off.
When Buu came back about five minutes later with a bouquet, a box of chocolates, and a heart-shaped card, his reaction was hardly any different.