Title: Accepted Wisdom
Fandom: Transformers
Characters: Stunticon Gestalt Team
Prompt: #26, Teammates
Word Count: 109
Rating: G
Summary: Commonly accepted wisdom doesn't work too well with the Stunticons.
Accepted Wisdom
***
Decepticons who hide behind others are weak. That's the dogma, that's what everyone sneers and jeers - a Decepticon who needs someone else is a weakling and he's only alive because his 'friend' gets something he wants out of him.
It's the accepted wisdom, too, that Decepticons with wheels used to be Autobots.
The Stunticons are a team, and if you mess with one of them, you mess with them all. There's no accepted wisdom in the world that'll let a person handle the Stunticons, and there's no Decepticon crazy enough to play staring games with the paranoid pale car when he goes scurrying off to the grey truck.
-End-
Title: Night Driving
Characters: Drag Strip
Prompt: #37, Sound
Word Count: 108
Rating: G
Summary: Drag Strip is obsessed.
Night Driving
***
Police lights blaze and sirens split the night, and the Stunticons scatter every which way.
Drag Strip pushes his speed into the red line, racing faster than the demons in his head. It's not Prowl. It's not Prowl, it's not Prowl, it's just humans. Only humans, stupid, pathetic meatbags.
It's Prowl, his tires sing as he flashes down the highway.
It's not Prowl. He knows better than that, the Autobot is on the other side of the planet, dealing with Octane and Starscream's latest scheme.
His engine roars, It's Prowl. You've got to be smarter and faster and more dangerous.
A bug splats against his windshield, You're not.
-End-
Title: Mean Bastards
Characters: Motormaster
Prompt: #80, Why?
Word Count: 150
Rating: PG
Summary: Motormaster was a mean bastard, but someone had to be.
Mean Bastards
***
Motormaster knew he was a mean bastard. It was part of his core, like being a transforming truck, like being a Decepticon. Sure, he'd been made that way, but he didn't have to be the way he was made.
He was made to hate Autobots, too, and sure as hell, he hated most of 'em. But some of them he just wanted to hurt and some of them he thought needed purple brands.
He was a mean bastard, and his boys were crazy bastards, and if he didn't keep their damn fool selves in line for them, they sure as hell wouldn't do it for themselves. They'd piss off Hook or Vortex, or someone actually dangerous, and then where'd the hell would they be?
Someone had to take care of them, and he was the only one who could yell loud enough and hit hard enough to make them listen.
-End-