You can do a Kamehameha if you work at it.
Looking out of the corner of my eye at my classmates, who, steadfastly believing this from the bottom of their hearts, would repeat the motions of the Kamehameha again and again like mechanical dolls, I was drawing something not quite illustration and not quite manga, such as:
The Red Ribbon Army,
which depicted the Red Ribbon Army conquering the world,
Me, Bulma, and Lunch on a Southern Isle,
where I lived on a southern isle for many years, while making out with Bulma and Lunch, and
T’ao Pai-pai and Me and Golgo and a Gundam,
where, as a Gundam and T’ao Pai-pai were dueling to the death, meanwhile, Golgo 13 and I were locked in mortal combat in Kita-Senjū.
When I showed these to my friends or my classmates, they’d tell me, “Don’t draw that stuff; draw Goku, or Piccolo”, so then I drew Yamcha one-sidedly beating Piccolo-Daimaō to a bloody pulp with his Rōga Fū-Fū Ken and dominating the Tenka’ichi Budōkai 10 times in a row like a demon, or Goku transformed into a giant ape and in the middle of crushing his adoptive grandpa underfoot, and they really hated it. Such were my school years.
Also, I was always doing impressions of Freeza. Constantly. Until the teacher hit me.
Also, I was able to become a manga artist after I read Toriyama-sensei’s “Crappy Manga Laboratory”.
Oh, and also, next time I’m gonna marry No. 18.
Honest. Honest. Honest.