Super Dragon Ball: Paradise Hysteria

Oh! That's A Good Baseball!

Beams of light swatted left and right, flashing different exuberant colors to attract the attention of a wayward observer and inspire instant regret of not being nestled into the massive, round lump of metal that the beautiful dancing lights were portraying differently during the somber dusk time. While the dancing lights relayed a festive mood, the sound that came from the excitable audience seated throughout would have sealed that impression onto a stone tablet without the use of a hammer.

"Now, how about that, Con-san? Yamcha, who is becoming a mainstay attraction here at All-Stars games, just made another statement with bat in hand. If anyone ever had any hopes of catching the ball swatted away by Titans' own Yamcha, the universal baseball ace himself said "Good luck, hope you can jump all the way into space"!" an overly enthusiastic baseball announcer who looked like he had a few shots before an entire evening of public speaking but actually hadn't and was only high on the festive mood of an outstanding All-Stars game began blabbering while forgetting to breathe. This nasty habit colored the man's chubby cheeks red and the tips of his bushy stache began whiffing to the sides as if trying to clasp a mouthful of air to brush it into the announcer's mouth.

"He sure did, Pop-san. Yamcha from the West City Titans is having his best game and still breaking records. Most baseball superstars indulge in All-Stars games and take pride in the illustrious careers and the legacy of the sport they're leaving behind when they're about to retire. Yamcha is still breaking countless records, all those he himself set earlier this year, all on the same night! I don't believe in the devil, but if it exists, I'm not sure how many souls Yamcha had to deliver in a wagon by the devil's doorstep for a performance this consistently good!" the secondary announcer, a tall and curly-haired middle-aged man with a vertically rectangular face decorated with a few warts conversed with his much shorter and rounder partner.

"Just a few years ago the very idea of a lone player covering all the positions for their team, whatever it needs to win, and performing consistently on a borderline superhuman level in each position, seemed impossible and I'd have spat my evening coffee into your face if you even suggested this idea to me. Then Yamcha broke into the scene. Let's go to our play-by-play wiz analyst Koten to hear some more technical mumbo jumbo we love him so much for!" Pop suggested with an averagely built man with round and curly white hair speaking in front of the camera while dragging a holographic board behind him he could sketch and scratch on.

"Thank you, guys at the announcement table, I'm here with my trusty board Seki-chan to run down some numbers of Yamcha-san's not just incredible, but downright impossible performance... Let's see here..." Like a possessed madman drawing cultist symbols on a white plaster wall with the blood of their freshest victim, Koten the baseball tech wiz began his passionate tirade. "Yamcha's got a ludicrous 1.0 BA, an 842 HR, 4200 career RBI, 4000 SLG, 1426 career SB, 1.7446 OPS, 727 career CG, an infinite ERA in every season he's ever played, 147 G, 35 GS, 7642 IP, 14 762 career strikeouts, 427 career SHOs, the average of 82 SVs per season and 7462 career SVs, 42 W average per season, and an absolutely bonkers 1.000 WHIP! All I'm saying is, can we dissect this human being for science and help us understand what makes him so good at baseball!? For the love of God, please!"

"Alright, I don't think our buddy Koten is alright at all," Pop chuckled uncomfortably after the camera switched back to him, dragging himself around in his chair in a desperate attempt to fill the air in which the statistician was meant to sing Yamcha's praises instead of advocating live human experimentation on live television, which was proven to be a no-go with sponsors, despite their publicly well-known rabid nature.

"This is why the station hired the lovely Kendi for those pesky diversity quotes, take it away, Kendi, for goodness' sake," Con cringed nervously before the camera switched to a ditzy, blonde in a red evening dress and curly, short, pink hair staring at the camera as if her entire life was unraveling and flashing before her eyes.