Fic: "Operation, Prank!" Oneshot, G1
Title: Operation: Prank!
Author: Birdiebot
Series/Verse: G1
Prompt: WoI week 5, “Strange”
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Some coarse language, Hound and Mirage briefly get their freaky freak on, and the Twins insinuate molesting Ratchet.
Wordcount: 4750
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, or the bajillion memes on the internet.
Summary: Sideswipe and Sunstreaker confess their love to Ratchet, who feels a bit awkward and avoids them. After a week of this, the Twins are desperate. Using Sunstreaker’s reddit addiction, they create a series of meme-based pranks that will hopefully annoy Ratchet enough that he stops avoiding them.
A/N: I have a thing for memes. So I thought to myself one day “A story with memes+Transformers=win”. There is seriously no logic in this story. Double check the following memes: if you don’t know what they are, the story will not be nearly as silly. And yes, “Rhino Glue” does indeed exist.
“text”=speaking
:text:=comm
Meme links:
Rick Roll- “Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan-Special Deleted Scene”: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xtY_k86FBU&list=FL8ORUomQyDq0Hxp-fOwhxDw&index=8&feature=plpp_video
Two Girls One Cup: I am confident that you all know what this is. I really don’t want to find a link for this, because it creeps me out. Srsly. If you don’t know, Google it at your own risk.
Chuck Testa: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LJP1DphOWPs&list=FL8ORUomQyDq0Hxp-fOwhxDw&index=1&feature=plpp_video (this is seriously one of my favorites, ever)
100 Hour Nyan Cat: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AA5DsLzSVrk
All Your Base Are Belong To Us: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qItugh-fFgg&feature=player_embedded (you only need to watch the first minute)
Ok, now on to the crack!
O o O o O
The Twins stood around the med bay awkwardly.
“How long is that fragging officers’ meeting going to take?” Sunstreaker growled. Sideswipe patted his twin on the shoulder.
“I’m sure it won’t be too-” he was interrupted by the med bay doors sliding open. They straightened their posture hurriedly as Ratchet strode in.
Ratchet did a double take when he saw the Twins in his med bay.
“Um, Ratch…can we talk to you? In private?” Sideswipe asked shyly.
Ratchet did another double take. Sideswipe, being shy? This couldn’t end well, whatever “this” was.
“Of course. We can talk in my office,” he said apprehensively, leading the way.
Once inside, the Twins started shuffling their feet, and refused to look Ratchet in the optics.
“Well, spit it out! You’re wasting my time,” Ratchet huffed, a tad apprehensively. He figured it would be better if he confronted whatever was on the Twins’ minds sooner rather than later.
“Well, you see, we…that is, myself and Sunstreaker…we uh, you know…we…uh...both of us, we uh…” Sideswipe muttered unintelligibly.
“You what?” Ratchet asked, by now thoroughly exasperated.
“Love you,” Sunstreaker said bluntly.
Ratchet sat bolt upright in his chair. Did he hear that right? The frontliner twins…the beautiful and dangerous frontliner twins…loved him?
“W-what?” He managed to stutter.
“We love you. I didn’t think it would be such a hard concept to grasp,” Sunstreaker growled self-consciously.
“...well?” Sideswipe asked nervously. “Now that we’ve bared our sparks to you, what do you say? Will you give us a chance?”
“I, this is…just so much to take in. I’ll need a few days to think things through,” Ratchet replied hastily.
The Twins looked disappointed.
“Oh, ok. We’ll uh, just leave then,” Sideswipe said, forcibly pasting a smile onto his face. He and Sunstreaker left. “Well…look on the bright side Sunny. It wasn’t an outright rejection.”
“Shut up Sideswipe. He hates us.”
Back in his office, Ratchet groaned and buried his face in his hands. Primus…
O o O o O
Sideswipe did another lap around their room.
“He said he needed a ‘few days’. It’s been a week!” he complained. Sunstreaker ignored him.
“I wish there was some way to get his attention! Every time we try, he’s nowhere to be found!” He glanced over at Sunstreaker, who was busy at their computer terminal.
“Are you listening to me?!”
“Can’t talk. Stuff is happening on reddit,” Sunstreaker said absently.
“The frag is reddit?”
“Apparently it is the front page of the internet. Humans post things called ‘memes’ on it. They are pretty funny,” Sunstreaker replied.
“Can I look at these ‘memes’ with you?” Sideswipe asked, curious.
“Sure.”
O o O o O
Sideswipe ran into their room. “Sunny Sunny Sunny Sunny Sunny!”
Sunstreaker looked up from his place at the computer terminal. “Don’t call me Sunny.”
“Yeah, whatever. I figured out how to get Ratchet to stop ignoring us!”
That got Sunstreaker’s attention.
“Really? How?”
“By pranking,” Sideswipe smirked.
“I’m sure that if we prank Ratchet he will only avoid us more,” Sunstreaker replied. “That’s a stupid idea.”
“No Sunny, we won’t prank Ratchet, we’ll prank the mechs around Ratchet. That way Ratchet will get annoyed and stop ignoring us! Then we can get him alone and show him the…error of his ways,” Sideswipe retorted smugly.
Sunstreaker snorted. “Yeah, because hurting our fellow Autobots will really win Ratchet’s spark.”
“We wouldn’t hurt them! We’ll just make them really annoyed.” Sideswipe’s smile was devilish. Sunstreaker almost shuddered, except that he was certain that his face had the same smile.
“Can we throw in a couple ‘Twin Supremes’?”
“Of course Sunny. We can’t lose our touch, after all.”
“Let’s do this. And stop calling me Sunny!”
O o O o O
Prowl left the officers’ meeting in high spirits. The last special ops mission had gone better than planned, and he now had a large amount of data at his disposal to use to create offensive plans against the Decepticons. He keyed open his office door, sat at his desk, and picked up the closest data pad. He may as well finish the last stack of paperwork before working on his plans. After all, he now had some free time because his meeting with Ratchet had been postponed. Activating the datapad, he accessed its memory and selected the first file. He grabbed a stylus from his desk drawer to make notes, and-
“Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert yoooou…” a gyrating human male crooned.
Prowl blinked. “Frag it Jazz!” He yelled out loud. He broke the data pad in half, and dropped it into the waste bin. “I don’t have time for that scrap!” He eyed the remaining pads on his desk suspiciously. Did he dare?
O o O o O
“I don’t believe it! He thought it was Jazz! We didn’t get any credit for our own prank!” Sideswipe complained back in their quarters. “And Ratchet wasn’t with him!”
“These next six pranks we have already executed won’t fail,” Sunstreaker said, as reassuringly as a mech like Sunstreaker could.
Sideswipe gave a dark chuckle. “Let’s just make sure we don’t get thrown in the brig until this is all over. I don’t want to miss this.”
Sunstreaker nodded in agreement.
O o O o O
“Thank you for refueling with me tonight, Ratchet,” Optimus Prime said, retracting his mask and taking a large gulp of midgrade.
“It’s no problem Optimus. It’s good to catch up every once in a while. Like old times,” Ratchet replied, taking a sip of his own energon. Prime chuckled.
“Old times indeed. Oh, what’s this?”
“What’s what, Optimus?” Ratchet asked.
“I got an email. ‘Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan-Special Deleted Scene’. I do enjoy Star Trek. And ‘Wrath of Khan’ was such a great movie,” Prime said, pressing play.
The ruined bridge of a ship came into view.
“Can you give me phaser power?” a frantic Admiral Kirk asked.
“A few shots Sir,” Scotty replied, nearly just as frantic. Spock turned in his chair.
“Not enough against their shields,” he stated matter-of-factly. Kirk crossed to the other side of the ship.
Prime sat forward in his seat eagerly. Ratchet snorted, amused.
“Admiral! The commander of the Reliant is signaling,” Uhura told him. “He wishes to…discuss the terms of our surrender.”
At that, the entire bridge crew turned to look at Kirk.
Kirk turned dramatically. “Put it on screen.”
“Admiral-” Uhura began.
“Do it,” Kirk interrupted. “While we still have time.”
Kirk sat in his seat.
Prime sat even closer to his terminal moniter, completely engrossed in the video.
“On screen, Sir” Uhura said softly. The entire bridge held their breath as they looked at the viewscreen, which flickered to life and revealed-
“We’re no strangers to looooove. You know the ruuuules, and so do I. A full commitment’s what I’m thinking ooooof, you won’t get this from any other guuuuy” A gyrating human male crooned.
The song was twice as loud as the rest of the audio. Prime jumped in surprise, smashing his face into the terminal. Ratchet choked on his energon. The song kept playing.
“I just want to tell you how I’m feeling….”
Prime managed to come to his senses long enough to delete the email.
“What was that?” he asked, massaging his nasal ridge.
Ratchet coughed up the energon he had managed to get caught in his intakes.
“It’s a Rick Roll. Jazz introduced me to Rick Astley a while ago. That song is the most fragging annoying thing this side of the planet,” Ratchet growled. “Who sent that to you? Some discipline is obviously needed. I hate Rick Astley.”
Prime coughed, embarrassed. “I uh…deleted the email.”
Ratchet sighed.
O o O o O
“I’m happy your mission went so well,” Hound told Mirage, holding his hand as they walked down the corridor to their quarters.
“Thank you Love,” Mirage murmered, reaching up to steal a kiss. “I thought that meeting would never end.”
Hound murmured his assent, too busy watching Mirage’s swaying aft to really listen to what his lover was saying. Mirage pushed him gently.
“My optics are up here,” he teased.
Hound chuckled. “I can’t help it. You’re just so fragging sexy.” He keyed open the doors to their quarters and ushered Mirage in.
The moment the door closed, he swooped his lover into his arms and proceeded to kiss him senseless.
“Mmm, Hound…”Mirage moaned as he was carried to their berth.
“Mirage,” Hound breathed, setting his lover down and climbing onto the berth. “I’m going to make love to you all night long.” He raised his hand and fondled Mirage’s helm vents…or at least tried to. The appendage did not leave the surface of the berth.
“What the frag?” Hound muttered, trying to move. He was stuck fast to the berth.
“What’s wrong?” Mirage asked worriedly, trying to sit up…and remaining stuck. “Hound? What’s going on?”
“I don’t know Mirage,” he started, but then he noticed a bucket on the floor near their berth. It said:
RHINO GLUE: “THE STRONGEST GLUE IN THE WORLD”
Underneath was written:
Waterproof superglue that holds up to 5 tons per square inch.
“Um, Mirage? We’re going to need Ratchet to get us out of this,” Hound said dejectedly. Embarrassed, he sent a comm to Ratchet.
:Ratchet here. This better be important. I’m with Optimus.:
:Um, yes, Ratchet…Mirage and I need some assistance in our quarters.:
:You two are both grown mechs. I’m sure you can figure out what goes where just fine by yourselves.:
Hound choked. Mirage looked up at him worriedly.
“What’s wrong Love?”
“Nothing, Mirage. Just Ratchet and his twisted sense of humor.”
:Ratchet. I’m serious. We have been glued to our berth, in a rather…compromising position.:
Hound could hear Ratchet growl in annoyance.
:I’ll be there in a breem. Just sit still and don’t go anywhere.:
:…………………………………………..:
O o O o O
Ratchet stood and stretched. “Sorry Optimus, but I have to go. Hound and Mirage have been glued to their berths.”
“The Twins?” Prime asked, standing to escort Ratchet out.
“I don’t know for certain, but I’m willing to bet they are the culprits,” Ratchet grumbled.
“Could you-“ Prime began, but Ratchet cut him off, muttering something about avoiding the Twins at all costs, and quickly left.
Optimus commed Red Alert.
:Red Alert, I need you to tell me where the Twins have been all day today.:
:In either their room or the rec room, Prime.:
:They haven’t been near Hound and Mirage’s quarters?:
:Negative Prime.:
:Thank you Red Alert.:
Optimus frowned. If it wasn’t the Twins, who else could it be?
O o O o O
“Discovering those crawlways was the best thing that ever happened to us,” Sideswipe snickered. “Now we can move around the base without even that paranoid glitch Red knowing where we are.”
Sunsteaker grunted, scrubbing furiously at his arm. “Fraggin…” he muttered.
“What’s wrong Sunny?” Sideswipe asked.
“I got some of that fragging glue on my arm, and it won’t come off. And don’t call me Sunny.”
“Whatever Sunshine.”
“………”
O o O o O
Ratchet yawned. He had been up all night removing Hound and Mirage from their berth. And it was just his luck that there was another meeting today, bright and early at 7 a.m. As usual, Prowl droned on about shift schedules and the proper way of filling out reports, because Primus forbid the routing number wasn’t written on the top right hand corner of each report. Ratchet glanced over at a dozing Jazz and decided that he’d risk getting some recharge while pretending to listen to Prowl. Wheeljack chose that moment to burst into the meeting, rather loudly.
Ratchet jerked upright. “I’m awake.”
Prowl frowned. “Nobody said otherwise.”
Luckily for Ratchet, Wheeljack launched right into his speech.
“I have the specifications for my latest invention with me. It’d be really great if they could be approved today so that I can start work on it right away,” he said happily.
“Erm…Wheeljack,” Prime said gently. “Your last invention blew up the entire science wing of the ARK. I am not sure that I am comfortable with approving another invention without first completely understanding what exactly it is you propose, and that could take a few days.”
“Don’t worry Prime,” Wheeljack said brightly. “I have with me this thing the humans call a ‘Powerpoint Presentation’. You’ll understand it in no time!” He plugged a flashdrive into the terminal. The screen lit up with the words:
Floccinaucinihilipilification Device
Everyone just stared. Wheeljack waved his hand in a “don’t worry” manner.
“I understand that most of you don’t know what this is. That’s ok. I’m just following regular Powerpoint procedure.” Wheeljack went to the next slide.
Floccinaucinihilipilification: 1. The act or habit of describing or regarding something as unimportant.Prime raised his hand.
“Yes, Prime?” Wheeljack asked.
“Wheeljack, I don’t understand what naming this device flokki…flok…flokkoli…flo…unimportant has to do with its function.”
“Don’t worry Prime, I have a video on the next slide which talks all about it!” He went to the next slide.
Soothing piano music began to fill the room.
“What the…my video didn’t have music!” Wheeljack complained. “What is this?”
“It appears ta be a coupla human females with a little container,” Ironhide said helpfully. “And they be THE FRAG?!”
All the ‘bots in the room stared at the screen in horror for a moment, before screams of “TURN IT OFF”, “MY OPTICS”, and “THE FRAG IS THIS” flew across the room. Wheeljack tried frantically to turn the video off. However, the software decided it didn’t want to cooperate.
“I’m trying to turn it off, but I can’t! There seems to be a glitch in the system!”
Ratchet’s helm hit the desk. Primus…
O o O o O
Ratchet decided to catch a quick nap, seeing as the medbay was empty and he had gotten no recharge the night before. He had just shuttered his optics when he got an urgent comm.
He ignored it.
Whoever it was commed him again.
He ignored it.
They commed a third time.
Ratchet grumbled and powered up his optics. :Ratchet here. What is so urgent?:
:Ratchet. You need to help me!: Smokescreen replied. :Because of that…incident in today’s meeting, I’m swamped with ‘bots!:
:Smokescreen. It can’t possibly be that bad.: Ratchet grumbled, venting heavily and getting up to fetch an energon cube, resigned to the fact that he would be getting no recharge anytime soon.
:Yes, it is! Red Alert came in today for psychological counseling! Red. Paranoid Red. You know, the one who mistrusts psychologists and thinks that I am controlling the minds of our fellow ‘bots?:
Ratchet choked on his energon, something that seemed to happen quite frequently recently.
:Red Alert did WHAT?:
:I’ve sent him to you. He’ll be there any second. Just tell him he’s glitching and that he just needs a reboot.:
:You WHAT? I don’t want to deal with him!: Ratchet spluttered. The med bay doors opened.
:Thanks Ratch. Talk to you later.:
A very jumpy Red Alert entered and looked around until he found Ratchet.
Ratchet groaned internally. Primus…
O o O o O
Perceptor puttered around the lab, returning his supplies to their proper places. The lab had only just been reconstructed after the incident with Wheeljack’s previous experiment, and the computer terminal had been acting up. He had set the terminal to do a hard reboot while he tidied up, hoping that that would defrag the old piece of junk. A bright ‘ping’ alerted him that the terminal had finally rebooted.
He walked over to the terminal. “Reboot successful. Computer now online” was displayed prominently on the screen. Perceptor was pleased. He typed in his password and pulled up a technical file.
However, the file did not appear. The words “Nope, Chuck Testa” flashed on the screen instead. Perceptor frowned and tried again.
“Nope, Chuck Testa.”
And again.
“Nope, Chuck Testa.”
And again.
“Nope, Chuck Testa."
After a few more times of this, Perceptor gave up and rebooted the terminal. However, he got the same results.
“Nope, Chuck Testa.”
“Nope, Chuck Testa.”
“Nope, Chuck Testa.”
Perceptor, furious by this time, did the one thing guaranteed to always fix any computer problem: he kicked the terminal. A bunch of technical jibberish appeared, then the words:
“Loading Program” appeared on the moniter. Perceptor relaxed. He could finally finish his work. But instead of his technical file opening, a video file labeled “100 Hour Nyan Cat” opened instead. Before he could delete out of the program-
“Nyan nyan nyan nyan nyanyanyanyannyan nyan nyan nyan nyan”
-a rainbow colored creature appeared and the most horrific song Perceptor had ever heard started to play. Everytime Perceptor tried to exit the video, another video appeared, until the entire screen was a swarm of videos. Perceptor couldn’t take it anymore, and crashed.
O o O o O
Bluestreak hummed to himself as he walked to the labs. Wheeljack was still trying to get the terminal in the meeting room to unfreeze after the disastrous presentation. Bluestreak, desperate to both support Wheeljack and escape from that horrific video, had offered to fetch the tools Wheeljack had forgotten. When he stepped into the lab, however, he was greeted by the loudest, most terrifying computer malfunction he had ever witnessed. Too distracted to look where he was going, he proceeded to trip and fall on Perceptor.
“Oh my goodness Perceptor I’m so so sorry! I was just distracted! Are you okay? Perceptor? Oh no! Don’t worry, I’ll comm Ratchet!”
O o O o O
Ratchet was busy. Very busy. Red Alert was having one of his “episodes”, and try as he might, Ratchet couldn’t hold him down to sedate him. To make matters worse, Inferno was on patrol and out of comm range. Between that and the fact that he hadn’t gotten any recharge recently, he could feel the beginnings of a massive processor ache begin to form. To add to his current state of misery, he got a frantic comm from Bluestreak.
:Ratchet! Hurry! There’s something wrong with the terminal in the lab and Perceptor isn’t moving!:
Ratchet felt like screaming obscenities and bashing his helm into the wall.
:I’m a little busy here Bluestreak!: he replied testily.
:But Ratchet! He’s hurt! He has to be, or else he wouldn’t be on the floor! And my processor would break too with the terminal malfunction he witnessed in fact it feels like it is breaking now and Ratchet you have to come soon because I don’t know how much longer I can take it because the sound is really terrible and-:
Ratchet groaned, trying to simultaneously chase Red Alert around the med bay and comprehend whatever it was that Bluestreak was babbling about.
:Ratchet call Prowl call Prime call everyone!:
:Blue! Calm down! Just aggggghh-: Ratchet tripped and fell over a medical berth. Red Alert took this opportunity to flee the med bay, helm sparking.
“FRAGGIT! Frag frag fraggity-frag…..FRAG!” Ratchet yelled to the med bay in general.
:Ratchet are you there please say you are there Perceptor still isn’t moving I think he’s broken and-:
:For Primus’ sake Bluestreak, SHUT UP! I’ll get there when I get there!: Ratchet ended the transmission and staggered to his feet. His entire body now hurt as badly as his processor. He stalked out of the med bay, cursing the entire way to the labs.
O o O o O
Bluestreak’s audios hurt. He had tried to turn off the computer terminal, but he couldn’t stop the loud, incessant “nyan nyan nyan”, no matter what he tried. So he had resumed poking Perceptor with a rod instead. He perked up once Ratchet entered.
“Ratchet thank goodness you’re here! This sound is terrible and I have to return to Wheeljack to give him his tools and he’s been waiting forever!”
Ratchet grimaced at the noise level in the room. “Help me get him to the med bay Bluestreak.”
Ratchet supported Perceptor’s shoulders while Bluesteak grabbed his legs. It took a good two breems to carry the relatively heavy microscope to the med bay. They carefully maneuvered him onto a berth. That’s when Ratchet noticed it.
“Bluestreak? Why is there an aft-shaped dent on Perceptor’s face?”
Bluestreak gave a nervous laugh. “Really? I have no idea. Why would I know? Bye Ratchet!” He quickly made his escape. Ratchet frowned. He did not want to deal with this today. And where was Red Alert? With his glitch acting up so badly, the smallest thing could set him off…
O o O o O
Red Alert ran through the Ark, panicking. He had to get to the security room. Only there would he be safe from all the other bots who were out to get him. Oh, Prime and Ratchet tried to convince him that the other bots were his allies and would never hurt him, but he knew better. Their processors were being controlled by that psychologist Smokescreen anyway. Red Alert knew better than to trust a psychologist. He quickly entered his passcode, looking around to make sure no cameras could see what he typed into the pad. Once inside, he engaged every lock the door had. He then dragged over a desk and some chairs and pushed them against the door for extra insurance. Sure, it was a sliding door, but the furniture should at least slow an attacker long enough for Red Alert to shoot whoever it was. Once he felt secure, he settled down at his monitors to keep an eye out for anyone coming after him. That’s when he noticed the screen for incoming messages flashing, meaning he had missed a call. He rolled his chair over to the screen and authorized the message to play.
The screen flashed to life, showing a cyborg in a voluminous purple cloak.
“How are you gentlemen,” it asked in a monotone.
Red Alert jolted upright, clutching his arm rests so tight that the metal started to dent.
The cyborg continued speaking. “All your base are belong to us. You are on the way to destruction.”
Red Alert gasped. “W-what?”
“You have no chance to survive make your time. Ha ha ha ha.” The cyborg vanished.
Red Alert blew a gasket.
Screaming, he activated every alarm the Ark had. The Decepticon raid alarm, the perimeter alarm, the earthquake alarm, the escaped-hazardous-material alarm, the fire alarm, and the car alarm Inferno had installed over the door of the security room as a joke. He activated the fire suppressant system too, just in case. After all, maybe the fire retardant foam would melt the invading cyborgs!
Then Red Alert realized something! The cyborgs sent the tape to the security room, so that meant THEY KNEW WHERE HE WAS. Scared out of his processor, he removed the furniture, unlocked the door, and ran screaming down the hallway.
O o O o O
Ratchet was almost finished repairing Perceptor. He though it would be horribly unfair to online the poor bot while there was still a very clear aft-shaped dent on his face. Some things were better left unknown. He reached for a syringe to inject a stimulant into Perceptor’s system to bring him out of stasis lock, but it shot out of his hand and cracked on the floor when Ratchet jumped at the sudden blare of alarms. It sounded as though every alarm on base had been activated! Recognizing the fire alarm amongst the melee of noise, he was grateful that the fire suppressant system hadn’t-
His thoughts came to a stuttering halt as both he and the med bay were covered in a thick layer of fire retardant foam. He stood in shock, spluttering.
The commotion woke Perceptor, who proceeded to have a mild panic attack. Ratchet knocked him out again with a wrench to the helm. He couldn’t deal with that right now.
O o O o O
When Inferno and Tracks returned to the Ark after a long patrol, they were shocked to find everything in complete chaos. The alarms were blaring, the hallways were slippery with foam (which Tracks discovered by falling flat on his aft), and bots were shouting and attempting to get outside. Inferno, immediately worried about Red Alert, excused himself from Track’s company in order to shut down the alarms and find Red Alert.
Tracks waited, covered in mud and fire retardant foam, outside with the rest of the Autobots. After about twenty minutes, the alarms stopped. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. After another twenty minutes Wheeljack came out, accompanied by Inferno cradling Red Alert.
“Alright you guys, the automated cleaning system has cleaned up all the foam, and you can all hit the wash racks now!” Wheeljack informed them. Everyone cheered, and rushed into the Ark. Tracks, relieved, started to follow, but he was intercepted by Prowl.
“Tracks, come with me to my office please. I need you to fill out a patrol report.” Without waiting for a response, Prowl turned around and stalked off.
Tracks groaned tiredly, and followed.
O o O o O
Ratchet was exhausted. He had woken Perceptor and sent him on his way, only to have Inferno come in with Red Alert. He was not feeling very kindly disposed towards the security director, since because of him he had had to re-sterilize all of his tools. Never-the-less, he administered a sedative and told Inferno to keep Red Alert securely in their quarters until his glitch wore off. He slumped onto a berth and groaned. Today had been the worst day of his life.
O o O o O
Tracks was finally released from Prowl’s office. He practically ran to the wash racks. Today had been the worst day of his life. While on patrol, his pristine paint job had been splattered with mud by an oversized truck. On top of that, he was still covered in fire retardant, and it was messing with his sense of smell. He couldn’t smell anything over the foam!
He briskly made his way over to his favorite stall, favorite cleanser in hand. He turned on the water and nearly sobbed in relief. He just wanted to be clean! Was that too much to ask for in life? He poured some cleanser into his hand and scrubbed his entire body. It wasn’t until he was rinsing off that he noticed something was amiss. The water was…blue. With the fire retardant foam all cleaned off, he could now smell the strong scent of paint stripper. Blue water and paint stripper…horrified, Tracks looked down. All of his paint had been stripped away! Horrified, he screamed loud enough to rival Starscream.
O o O o O
Ratchet was woken out of recharge by a screaming Tracks. He winced as he moved out of the uncomfortable position he had passed out in. He stared in shock at the…completely unpainted Tracks.
“What are you waiting for? I need paint!” A very irate Tracks snapped.
Ratchet burst out laughing. After all the events that had occurred throughout the day, this was just too much! And an unpainted Tracks was fairly comical. Tracks scowled and went into Ratchet’s storeroom to get the paint himself. Ratchet continued laughing even after Tracks left. It wasn’t until the med bay doors slid open again that he stopped laughing and straightened up. A very smug looking Sideswipe and Sunstreaker entered.
“Are you going to stop ignoring us? Or do we have to continue?” Sideswipe asked. Sunstreaker leered.
Ratched shuttered his optics briefly.
“You two…caused all of this mayhem just to…get my attention?” He asked, completely shocked.
“We said we loved you,” Sunstreaker said, crossing his arms. “We’d do anything to get you.”
Ratchet felt a fluttering in his spark.
“Even though this has been one of the most stressful and tiring days of my entire existence, that is…surprisingly romantic,” he said, his faceplates heating up. The Twins grinned.
“Does that mean that you will accept our proposal to begin a relationship?” Sideswipe asked eagerly.
Ratchet thought for a moment, and realized that if the Twins would do something so drastic simply to get his attention, they would be marvelous lovers indeed. “Yes.”
The Twins high-fived and then gave Ratchet the biggest hug the bot had ever had in his life.
“You are aware that I will have to report you both to Prowl and Prime, right?”
“Can we kiss you senseless first?” The Twins asked simultaneously. Ratchet grinned.
“Frag yes.”
FIN. Cackles shamelessly and runs off into the sunset. Hope you liked it!
Did I mention that I listened to Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give You Up the entire time I wrote this?
Author: Birdiebot
Series/Verse: G1
Prompt: WoI week 5, “Strange”
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Some coarse language, Hound and Mirage briefly get their freaky freak on, and the Twins insinuate molesting Ratchet.
Wordcount: 4750
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, or the bajillion memes on the internet.
Summary: Sideswipe and Sunstreaker confess their love to Ratchet, who feels a bit awkward and avoids them. After a week of this, the Twins are desperate. Using Sunstreaker’s reddit addiction, they create a series of meme-based pranks that will hopefully annoy Ratchet enough that he stops avoiding them.
A/N: I have a thing for memes. So I thought to myself one day “A story with memes+Transformers=win”. There is seriously no logic in this story. Double check the following memes: if you don’t know what they are, the story will not be nearly as silly. And yes, “Rhino Glue” does indeed exist.
“text”=speaking
:text:=comm
Meme links:
Rick Roll- “Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan-Special Deleted Scene”: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xtY_k86FBU&list=FL8ORUomQyDq0Hxp-fOwhxDw&index=8&feature=plpp_video
Two Girls One Cup: I am confident that you all know what this is. I really don’t want to find a link for this, because it creeps me out. Srsly. If you don’t know, Google it at your own risk.
Chuck Testa: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LJP1DphOWPs&list=FL8ORUomQyDq0Hxp-fOwhxDw&index=1&feature=plpp_video (this is seriously one of my favorites, ever)
100 Hour Nyan Cat: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AA5DsLzSVrk
All Your Base Are Belong To Us: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qItugh-fFgg&feature=player_embedded (you only need to watch the first minute)
Ok, now on to the crack!
O o O o O
The Twins stood around the med bay awkwardly.
“How long is that fragging officers’ meeting going to take?” Sunstreaker growled. Sideswipe patted his twin on the shoulder.
“I’m sure it won’t be too-” he was interrupted by the med bay doors sliding open. They straightened their posture hurriedly as Ratchet strode in.
Ratchet did a double take when he saw the Twins in his med bay.
“Um, Ratch…can we talk to you? In private?” Sideswipe asked shyly.
Ratchet did another double take. Sideswipe, being shy? This couldn’t end well, whatever “this” was.
“Of course. We can talk in my office,” he said apprehensively, leading the way.
Once inside, the Twins started shuffling their feet, and refused to look Ratchet in the optics.
“Well, spit it out! You’re wasting my time,” Ratchet huffed, a tad apprehensively. He figured it would be better if he confronted whatever was on the Twins’ minds sooner rather than later.
“Well, you see, we…that is, myself and Sunstreaker…we uh, you know…we…uh...both of us, we uh…” Sideswipe muttered unintelligibly.
“You what?” Ratchet asked, by now thoroughly exasperated.
“Love you,” Sunstreaker said bluntly.
Ratchet sat bolt upright in his chair. Did he hear that right? The frontliner twins…the beautiful and dangerous frontliner twins…loved him?
“W-what?” He managed to stutter.
“We love you. I didn’t think it would be such a hard concept to grasp,” Sunstreaker growled self-consciously.
“...well?” Sideswipe asked nervously. “Now that we’ve bared our sparks to you, what do you say? Will you give us a chance?”
“I, this is…just so much to take in. I’ll need a few days to think things through,” Ratchet replied hastily.
The Twins looked disappointed.
“Oh, ok. We’ll uh, just leave then,” Sideswipe said, forcibly pasting a smile onto his face. He and Sunstreaker left. “Well…look on the bright side Sunny. It wasn’t an outright rejection.”
“Shut up Sideswipe. He hates us.”
Back in his office, Ratchet groaned and buried his face in his hands. Primus…
O o O o O
Sideswipe did another lap around their room.
“He said he needed a ‘few days’. It’s been a week!” he complained. Sunstreaker ignored him.
“I wish there was some way to get his attention! Every time we try, he’s nowhere to be found!” He glanced over at Sunstreaker, who was busy at their computer terminal.
“Are you listening to me?!”
“Can’t talk. Stuff is happening on reddit,” Sunstreaker said absently.
“The frag is reddit?”
“Apparently it is the front page of the internet. Humans post things called ‘memes’ on it. They are pretty funny,” Sunstreaker replied.
“Can I look at these ‘memes’ with you?” Sideswipe asked, curious.
“Sure.”
O o O o O
Sideswipe ran into their room. “Sunny Sunny Sunny Sunny Sunny!”
Sunstreaker looked up from his place at the computer terminal. “Don’t call me Sunny.”
“Yeah, whatever. I figured out how to get Ratchet to stop ignoring us!”
That got Sunstreaker’s attention.
“Really? How?”
“By pranking,” Sideswipe smirked.
“I’m sure that if we prank Ratchet he will only avoid us more,” Sunstreaker replied. “That’s a stupid idea.”
“No Sunny, we won’t prank Ratchet, we’ll prank the mechs around Ratchet. That way Ratchet will get annoyed and stop ignoring us! Then we can get him alone and show him the…error of his ways,” Sideswipe retorted smugly.
Sunstreaker snorted. “Yeah, because hurting our fellow Autobots will really win Ratchet’s spark.”
“We wouldn’t hurt them! We’ll just make them really annoyed.” Sideswipe’s smile was devilish. Sunstreaker almost shuddered, except that he was certain that his face had the same smile.
“Can we throw in a couple ‘Twin Supremes’?”
“Of course Sunny. We can’t lose our touch, after all.”
“Let’s do this. And stop calling me Sunny!”
O o O o O
Prowl left the officers’ meeting in high spirits. The last special ops mission had gone better than planned, and he now had a large amount of data at his disposal to use to create offensive plans against the Decepticons. He keyed open his office door, sat at his desk, and picked up the closest data pad. He may as well finish the last stack of paperwork before working on his plans. After all, he now had some free time because his meeting with Ratchet had been postponed. Activating the datapad, he accessed its memory and selected the first file. He grabbed a stylus from his desk drawer to make notes, and-
“Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert yoooou…” a gyrating human male crooned.
Prowl blinked. “Frag it Jazz!” He yelled out loud. He broke the data pad in half, and dropped it into the waste bin. “I don’t have time for that scrap!” He eyed the remaining pads on his desk suspiciously. Did he dare?
O o O o O
“I don’t believe it! He thought it was Jazz! We didn’t get any credit for our own prank!” Sideswipe complained back in their quarters. “And Ratchet wasn’t with him!”
“These next six pranks we have already executed won’t fail,” Sunstreaker said, as reassuringly as a mech like Sunstreaker could.
Sideswipe gave a dark chuckle. “Let’s just make sure we don’t get thrown in the brig until this is all over. I don’t want to miss this.”
Sunstreaker nodded in agreement.
O o O o O
“Thank you for refueling with me tonight, Ratchet,” Optimus Prime said, retracting his mask and taking a large gulp of midgrade.
“It’s no problem Optimus. It’s good to catch up every once in a while. Like old times,” Ratchet replied, taking a sip of his own energon. Prime chuckled.
“Old times indeed. Oh, what’s this?”
“What’s what, Optimus?” Ratchet asked.
“I got an email. ‘Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan-Special Deleted Scene’. I do enjoy Star Trek. And ‘Wrath of Khan’ was such a great movie,” Prime said, pressing play.
The ruined bridge of a ship came into view.
“Can you give me phaser power?” a frantic Admiral Kirk asked.
“A few shots Sir,” Scotty replied, nearly just as frantic. Spock turned in his chair.
“Not enough against their shields,” he stated matter-of-factly. Kirk crossed to the other side of the ship.
Prime sat forward in his seat eagerly. Ratchet snorted, amused.
“Admiral! The commander of the Reliant is signaling,” Uhura told him. “He wishes to…discuss the terms of our surrender.”
At that, the entire bridge crew turned to look at Kirk.
Kirk turned dramatically. “Put it on screen.”
“Admiral-” Uhura began.
“Do it,” Kirk interrupted. “While we still have time.”
Kirk sat in his seat.
Prime sat even closer to his terminal moniter, completely engrossed in the video.
“On screen, Sir” Uhura said softly. The entire bridge held their breath as they looked at the viewscreen, which flickered to life and revealed-
“We’re no strangers to looooove. You know the ruuuules, and so do I. A full commitment’s what I’m thinking ooooof, you won’t get this from any other guuuuy” A gyrating human male crooned.
The song was twice as loud as the rest of the audio. Prime jumped in surprise, smashing his face into the terminal. Ratchet choked on his energon. The song kept playing.
“I just want to tell you how I’m feeling….”
Prime managed to come to his senses long enough to delete the email.
“What was that?” he asked, massaging his nasal ridge.
Ratchet coughed up the energon he had managed to get caught in his intakes.
“It’s a Rick Roll. Jazz introduced me to Rick Astley a while ago. That song is the most fragging annoying thing this side of the planet,” Ratchet growled. “Who sent that to you? Some discipline is obviously needed. I hate Rick Astley.”
Prime coughed, embarrassed. “I uh…deleted the email.”
Ratchet sighed.
O o O o O
“I’m happy your mission went so well,” Hound told Mirage, holding his hand as they walked down the corridor to their quarters.
“Thank you Love,” Mirage murmered, reaching up to steal a kiss. “I thought that meeting would never end.”
Hound murmured his assent, too busy watching Mirage’s swaying aft to really listen to what his lover was saying. Mirage pushed him gently.
“My optics are up here,” he teased.
Hound chuckled. “I can’t help it. You’re just so fragging sexy.” He keyed open the doors to their quarters and ushered Mirage in.
The moment the door closed, he swooped his lover into his arms and proceeded to kiss him senseless.
“Mmm, Hound…”Mirage moaned as he was carried to their berth.
“Mirage,” Hound breathed, setting his lover down and climbing onto the berth. “I’m going to make love to you all night long.” He raised his hand and fondled Mirage’s helm vents…or at least tried to. The appendage did not leave the surface of the berth.
“What the frag?” Hound muttered, trying to move. He was stuck fast to the berth.
“What’s wrong?” Mirage asked worriedly, trying to sit up…and remaining stuck. “Hound? What’s going on?”
“I don’t know Mirage,” he started, but then he noticed a bucket on the floor near their berth. It said:
RHINO GLUE: “THE STRONGEST GLUE IN THE WORLD”
Underneath was written:
Waterproof superglue that holds up to 5 tons per square inch.
“Um, Mirage? We’re going to need Ratchet to get us out of this,” Hound said dejectedly. Embarrassed, he sent a comm to Ratchet.
:Ratchet here. This better be important. I’m with Optimus.:
:Um, yes, Ratchet…Mirage and I need some assistance in our quarters.:
:You two are both grown mechs. I’m sure you can figure out what goes where just fine by yourselves.:
Hound choked. Mirage looked up at him worriedly.
“What’s wrong Love?”
“Nothing, Mirage. Just Ratchet and his twisted sense of humor.”
:Ratchet. I’m serious. We have been glued to our berth, in a rather…compromising position.:
Hound could hear Ratchet growl in annoyance.
:I’ll be there in a breem. Just sit still and don’t go anywhere.:
:…………………………………………..:
O o O o O
Ratchet stood and stretched. “Sorry Optimus, but I have to go. Hound and Mirage have been glued to their berths.”
“The Twins?” Prime asked, standing to escort Ratchet out.
“I don’t know for certain, but I’m willing to bet they are the culprits,” Ratchet grumbled.
“Could you-“ Prime began, but Ratchet cut him off, muttering something about avoiding the Twins at all costs, and quickly left.
Optimus commed Red Alert.
:Red Alert, I need you to tell me where the Twins have been all day today.:
:In either their room or the rec room, Prime.:
:They haven’t been near Hound and Mirage’s quarters?:
:Negative Prime.:
:Thank you Red Alert.:
Optimus frowned. If it wasn’t the Twins, who else could it be?
O o O o O
“Discovering those crawlways was the best thing that ever happened to us,” Sideswipe snickered. “Now we can move around the base without even that paranoid glitch Red knowing where we are.”
Sunsteaker grunted, scrubbing furiously at his arm. “Fraggin…” he muttered.
“What’s wrong Sunny?” Sideswipe asked.
“I got some of that fragging glue on my arm, and it won’t come off. And don’t call me Sunny.”
“Whatever Sunshine.”
“………”
O o O o O
Ratchet yawned. He had been up all night removing Hound and Mirage from their berth. And it was just his luck that there was another meeting today, bright and early at 7 a.m. As usual, Prowl droned on about shift schedules and the proper way of filling out reports, because Primus forbid the routing number wasn’t written on the top right hand corner of each report. Ratchet glanced over at a dozing Jazz and decided that he’d risk getting some recharge while pretending to listen to Prowl. Wheeljack chose that moment to burst into the meeting, rather loudly.
Ratchet jerked upright. “I’m awake.”
Prowl frowned. “Nobody said otherwise.”
Luckily for Ratchet, Wheeljack launched right into his speech.
“I have the specifications for my latest invention with me. It’d be really great if they could be approved today so that I can start work on it right away,” he said happily.
“Erm…Wheeljack,” Prime said gently. “Your last invention blew up the entire science wing of the ARK. I am not sure that I am comfortable with approving another invention without first completely understanding what exactly it is you propose, and that could take a few days.”
“Don’t worry Prime,” Wheeljack said brightly. “I have with me this thing the humans call a ‘Powerpoint Presentation’. You’ll understand it in no time!” He plugged a flashdrive into the terminal. The screen lit up with the words:
Floccinaucinihilipilification Device
Everyone just stared. Wheeljack waved his hand in a “don’t worry” manner.
“I understand that most of you don’t know what this is. That’s ok. I’m just following regular Powerpoint procedure.” Wheeljack went to the next slide.
Floccinaucinihilipilification: 1. The act or habit of describing or regarding something as unimportant.Prime raised his hand.
“Yes, Prime?” Wheeljack asked.
“Wheeljack, I don’t understand what naming this device flokki…flok…flokkoli…flo…unimportant has to do with its function.”
“Don’t worry Prime, I have a video on the next slide which talks all about it!” He went to the next slide.
Soothing piano music began to fill the room.
“What the…my video didn’t have music!” Wheeljack complained. “What is this?”
“It appears ta be a coupla human females with a little container,” Ironhide said helpfully. “And they be THE FRAG?!”
All the ‘bots in the room stared at the screen in horror for a moment, before screams of “TURN IT OFF”, “MY OPTICS”, and “THE FRAG IS THIS” flew across the room. Wheeljack tried frantically to turn the video off. However, the software decided it didn’t want to cooperate.
“I’m trying to turn it off, but I can’t! There seems to be a glitch in the system!”
Ratchet’s helm hit the desk. Primus…
O o O o O
Ratchet decided to catch a quick nap, seeing as the medbay was empty and he had gotten no recharge the night before. He had just shuttered his optics when he got an urgent comm.
He ignored it.
Whoever it was commed him again.
He ignored it.
They commed a third time.
Ratchet grumbled and powered up his optics. :Ratchet here. What is so urgent?:
:Ratchet. You need to help me!: Smokescreen replied. :Because of that…incident in today’s meeting, I’m swamped with ‘bots!:
:Smokescreen. It can’t possibly be that bad.: Ratchet grumbled, venting heavily and getting up to fetch an energon cube, resigned to the fact that he would be getting no recharge anytime soon.
:Yes, it is! Red Alert came in today for psychological counseling! Red. Paranoid Red. You know, the one who mistrusts psychologists and thinks that I am controlling the minds of our fellow ‘bots?:
Ratchet choked on his energon, something that seemed to happen quite frequently recently.
:Red Alert did WHAT?:
:I’ve sent him to you. He’ll be there any second. Just tell him he’s glitching and that he just needs a reboot.:
:You WHAT? I don’t want to deal with him!: Ratchet spluttered. The med bay doors opened.
:Thanks Ratch. Talk to you later.:
A very jumpy Red Alert entered and looked around until he found Ratchet.
Ratchet groaned internally. Primus…
O o O o O
Perceptor puttered around the lab, returning his supplies to their proper places. The lab had only just been reconstructed after the incident with Wheeljack’s previous experiment, and the computer terminal had been acting up. He had set the terminal to do a hard reboot while he tidied up, hoping that that would defrag the old piece of junk. A bright ‘ping’ alerted him that the terminal had finally rebooted.
He walked over to the terminal. “Reboot successful. Computer now online” was displayed prominently on the screen. Perceptor was pleased. He typed in his password and pulled up a technical file.
However, the file did not appear. The words “Nope, Chuck Testa” flashed on the screen instead. Perceptor frowned and tried again.
“Nope, Chuck Testa.”
And again.
“Nope, Chuck Testa.”
And again.
“Nope, Chuck Testa."
After a few more times of this, Perceptor gave up and rebooted the terminal. However, he got the same results.
“Nope, Chuck Testa.”
“Nope, Chuck Testa.”
“Nope, Chuck Testa.”
Perceptor, furious by this time, did the one thing guaranteed to always fix any computer problem: he kicked the terminal. A bunch of technical jibberish appeared, then the words:
“Loading Program” appeared on the moniter. Perceptor relaxed. He could finally finish his work. But instead of his technical file opening, a video file labeled “100 Hour Nyan Cat” opened instead. Before he could delete out of the program-
“Nyan nyan nyan nyan nyanyanyanyannyan nyan nyan nyan nyan”
-a rainbow colored creature appeared and the most horrific song Perceptor had ever heard started to play. Everytime Perceptor tried to exit the video, another video appeared, until the entire screen was a swarm of videos. Perceptor couldn’t take it anymore, and crashed.
O o O o O
Bluestreak hummed to himself as he walked to the labs. Wheeljack was still trying to get the terminal in the meeting room to unfreeze after the disastrous presentation. Bluestreak, desperate to both support Wheeljack and escape from that horrific video, had offered to fetch the tools Wheeljack had forgotten. When he stepped into the lab, however, he was greeted by the loudest, most terrifying computer malfunction he had ever witnessed. Too distracted to look where he was going, he proceeded to trip and fall on Perceptor.
“Oh my goodness Perceptor I’m so so sorry! I was just distracted! Are you okay? Perceptor? Oh no! Don’t worry, I’ll comm Ratchet!”
O o O o O
Ratchet was busy. Very busy. Red Alert was having one of his “episodes”, and try as he might, Ratchet couldn’t hold him down to sedate him. To make matters worse, Inferno was on patrol and out of comm range. Between that and the fact that he hadn’t gotten any recharge recently, he could feel the beginnings of a massive processor ache begin to form. To add to his current state of misery, he got a frantic comm from Bluestreak.
:Ratchet! Hurry! There’s something wrong with the terminal in the lab and Perceptor isn’t moving!:
Ratchet felt like screaming obscenities and bashing his helm into the wall.
:I’m a little busy here Bluestreak!: he replied testily.
:But Ratchet! He’s hurt! He has to be, or else he wouldn’t be on the floor! And my processor would break too with the terminal malfunction he witnessed in fact it feels like it is breaking now and Ratchet you have to come soon because I don’t know how much longer I can take it because the sound is really terrible and-:
Ratchet groaned, trying to simultaneously chase Red Alert around the med bay and comprehend whatever it was that Bluestreak was babbling about.
:Ratchet call Prowl call Prime call everyone!:
:Blue! Calm down! Just aggggghh-: Ratchet tripped and fell over a medical berth. Red Alert took this opportunity to flee the med bay, helm sparking.
“FRAGGIT! Frag frag fraggity-frag…..FRAG!” Ratchet yelled to the med bay in general.
:Ratchet are you there please say you are there Perceptor still isn’t moving I think he’s broken and-:
:For Primus’ sake Bluestreak, SHUT UP! I’ll get there when I get there!: Ratchet ended the transmission and staggered to his feet. His entire body now hurt as badly as his processor. He stalked out of the med bay, cursing the entire way to the labs.
O o O o O
Bluestreak’s audios hurt. He had tried to turn off the computer terminal, but he couldn’t stop the loud, incessant “nyan nyan nyan”, no matter what he tried. So he had resumed poking Perceptor with a rod instead. He perked up once Ratchet entered.
“Ratchet thank goodness you’re here! This sound is terrible and I have to return to Wheeljack to give him his tools and he’s been waiting forever!”
Ratchet grimaced at the noise level in the room. “Help me get him to the med bay Bluestreak.”
Ratchet supported Perceptor’s shoulders while Bluesteak grabbed his legs. It took a good two breems to carry the relatively heavy microscope to the med bay. They carefully maneuvered him onto a berth. That’s when Ratchet noticed it.
“Bluestreak? Why is there an aft-shaped dent on Perceptor’s face?”
Bluestreak gave a nervous laugh. “Really? I have no idea. Why would I know? Bye Ratchet!” He quickly made his escape. Ratchet frowned. He did not want to deal with this today. And where was Red Alert? With his glitch acting up so badly, the smallest thing could set him off…
O o O o O
Red Alert ran through the Ark, panicking. He had to get to the security room. Only there would he be safe from all the other bots who were out to get him. Oh, Prime and Ratchet tried to convince him that the other bots were his allies and would never hurt him, but he knew better. Their processors were being controlled by that psychologist Smokescreen anyway. Red Alert knew better than to trust a psychologist. He quickly entered his passcode, looking around to make sure no cameras could see what he typed into the pad. Once inside, he engaged every lock the door had. He then dragged over a desk and some chairs and pushed them against the door for extra insurance. Sure, it was a sliding door, but the furniture should at least slow an attacker long enough for Red Alert to shoot whoever it was. Once he felt secure, he settled down at his monitors to keep an eye out for anyone coming after him. That’s when he noticed the screen for incoming messages flashing, meaning he had missed a call. He rolled his chair over to the screen and authorized the message to play.
The screen flashed to life, showing a cyborg in a voluminous purple cloak.
“How are you gentlemen,” it asked in a monotone.
Red Alert jolted upright, clutching his arm rests so tight that the metal started to dent.
The cyborg continued speaking. “All your base are belong to us. You are on the way to destruction.”
Red Alert gasped. “W-what?”
“You have no chance to survive make your time. Ha ha ha ha.” The cyborg vanished.
Red Alert blew a gasket.
Screaming, he activated every alarm the Ark had. The Decepticon raid alarm, the perimeter alarm, the earthquake alarm, the escaped-hazardous-material alarm, the fire alarm, and the car alarm Inferno had installed over the door of the security room as a joke. He activated the fire suppressant system too, just in case. After all, maybe the fire retardant foam would melt the invading cyborgs!
Then Red Alert realized something! The cyborgs sent the tape to the security room, so that meant THEY KNEW WHERE HE WAS. Scared out of his processor, he removed the furniture, unlocked the door, and ran screaming down the hallway.
O o O o O
Ratchet was almost finished repairing Perceptor. He though it would be horribly unfair to online the poor bot while there was still a very clear aft-shaped dent on his face. Some things were better left unknown. He reached for a syringe to inject a stimulant into Perceptor’s system to bring him out of stasis lock, but it shot out of his hand and cracked on the floor when Ratchet jumped at the sudden blare of alarms. It sounded as though every alarm on base had been activated! Recognizing the fire alarm amongst the melee of noise, he was grateful that the fire suppressant system hadn’t-
His thoughts came to a stuttering halt as both he and the med bay were covered in a thick layer of fire retardant foam. He stood in shock, spluttering.
The commotion woke Perceptor, who proceeded to have a mild panic attack. Ratchet knocked him out again with a wrench to the helm. He couldn’t deal with that right now.
O o O o O
When Inferno and Tracks returned to the Ark after a long patrol, they were shocked to find everything in complete chaos. The alarms were blaring, the hallways were slippery with foam (which Tracks discovered by falling flat on his aft), and bots were shouting and attempting to get outside. Inferno, immediately worried about Red Alert, excused himself from Track’s company in order to shut down the alarms and find Red Alert.
Tracks waited, covered in mud and fire retardant foam, outside with the rest of the Autobots. After about twenty minutes, the alarms stopped. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. After another twenty minutes Wheeljack came out, accompanied by Inferno cradling Red Alert.
“Alright you guys, the automated cleaning system has cleaned up all the foam, and you can all hit the wash racks now!” Wheeljack informed them. Everyone cheered, and rushed into the Ark. Tracks, relieved, started to follow, but he was intercepted by Prowl.
“Tracks, come with me to my office please. I need you to fill out a patrol report.” Without waiting for a response, Prowl turned around and stalked off.
Tracks groaned tiredly, and followed.
O o O o O
Ratchet was exhausted. He had woken Perceptor and sent him on his way, only to have Inferno come in with Red Alert. He was not feeling very kindly disposed towards the security director, since because of him he had had to re-sterilize all of his tools. Never-the-less, he administered a sedative and told Inferno to keep Red Alert securely in their quarters until his glitch wore off. He slumped onto a berth and groaned. Today had been the worst day of his life.
O o O o O
Tracks was finally released from Prowl’s office. He practically ran to the wash racks. Today had been the worst day of his life. While on patrol, his pristine paint job had been splattered with mud by an oversized truck. On top of that, he was still covered in fire retardant, and it was messing with his sense of smell. He couldn’t smell anything over the foam!
He briskly made his way over to his favorite stall, favorite cleanser in hand. He turned on the water and nearly sobbed in relief. He just wanted to be clean! Was that too much to ask for in life? He poured some cleanser into his hand and scrubbed his entire body. It wasn’t until he was rinsing off that he noticed something was amiss. The water was…blue. With the fire retardant foam all cleaned off, he could now smell the strong scent of paint stripper. Blue water and paint stripper…horrified, Tracks looked down. All of his paint had been stripped away! Horrified, he screamed loud enough to rival Starscream.
O o O o O
Ratchet was woken out of recharge by a screaming Tracks. He winced as he moved out of the uncomfortable position he had passed out in. He stared in shock at the…completely unpainted Tracks.
“What are you waiting for? I need paint!” A very irate Tracks snapped.
Ratchet burst out laughing. After all the events that had occurred throughout the day, this was just too much! And an unpainted Tracks was fairly comical. Tracks scowled and went into Ratchet’s storeroom to get the paint himself. Ratchet continued laughing even after Tracks left. It wasn’t until the med bay doors slid open again that he stopped laughing and straightened up. A very smug looking Sideswipe and Sunstreaker entered.
“Are you going to stop ignoring us? Or do we have to continue?” Sideswipe asked. Sunstreaker leered.
Ratched shuttered his optics briefly.
“You two…caused all of this mayhem just to…get my attention?” He asked, completely shocked.
“We said we loved you,” Sunstreaker said, crossing his arms. “We’d do anything to get you.”
Ratchet felt a fluttering in his spark.
“Even though this has been one of the most stressful and tiring days of my entire existence, that is…surprisingly romantic,” he said, his faceplates heating up. The Twins grinned.
“Does that mean that you will accept our proposal to begin a relationship?” Sideswipe asked eagerly.
Ratchet thought for a moment, and realized that if the Twins would do something so drastic simply to get his attention, they would be marvelous lovers indeed. “Yes.”
The Twins high-fived and then gave Ratchet the biggest hug the bot had ever had in his life.
“You are aware that I will have to report you both to Prowl and Prime, right?”
“Can we kiss you senseless first?” The Twins asked simultaneously. Ratchet grinned.
“Frag yes.”
FIN. Cackles shamelessly and runs off into the sunset. Hope you liked it!
Did I mention that I listened to Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give You Up the entire time I wrote this?