Chapter Text
- I will not provide Red Alert with Coast-to-Coast AM transcripts
“Sideswipe” Prowl looked at the red menace sitting innocently, “Care to explain these?”.
Prowl handed Sideswipe a singular datapad from a stack that was very close to falling. Sideswipe scanned the datapad.
“Oh, it’s just a transcript of the Coast-to-Coast program”.
“And what is that about?” Prowl asked, even though he knew the answer.
“Stuff about aliens, UFOs, strange occurrences,” Sideswipe said. “But you already know that, don’t you?”
“I do,” Prowl admitted, “though it is strange that all these transcripts were discovered in Red Alert’s office.”
“I can’t control what that paranoid glitch does in his spare time”.
“True. However, I have records that indicate that some bot ordered these transcripts and transferred it onto datapads for Red Alert. It was not you, was it, Sideswipe?”
“No, Sir”.
“Very well. You are dismissed for now”.
Sideswipe left Prowl’s office, smirking as his prank caused Red Alert to spiral out of control and lock down the Ark as a group of important humans visited.
Number 13: I will not draw a “H” on Tracks and Sunstreaker’s fore helms.
“SIDESWIPE WHEN I GET MY SERVOS ON YOU,” Tracks screamed as he frantically tried to wipe away the obnoxious letter H that decorated his helm. It was ruining his flawless faceplate. Tracks always prided himself on having the best looks out of all the Autobots, but now he was ruined. Though Tracks was not the only Autobot to have the letter H on his helm. Sunstreaker now had a large H on his forehead that he too was trying to wipe off with no success.
“Get in line. I called dibs centuries ago,” Sunstreaker muttered.
“HE RUINED MY PERFECT FACEPLATE”.
Sunstreaker huffed, “To be honest, I think it is an improvement”.
Tracks screamed wordlessly and so high pitched that several mirrors cracked in the wash racks. Sunstreaker rubbed his helm vents as Tracks stomped away.
Number 53: I will not shave the humans.
“Sideswipe, Sunstreaker.” Prowl looked at the two troublemakers sitting across from him.
“Yes, Sir,” they chorused.
“Care to explain why the humans were complaining and very upset this morning?”.
“No idea”.
“No,” Sunstreaker said.
“Spike Witwicky and Chip Chase were staying over at the Ark last night. In the morning, they discovered they had been shaved”.
“Probably need to be,” Sunstreaker muttered, “Shedding their hair and skin everywhere”.
Prowl glared at the vain golden twin.
“As I was saying. They had been shaved. All their hair on their heads was gone”.
“So?” Sideswipe said, not caring.
“May I remind you that the humans are under our care? And Optimus Prime would be very displeased if they came to any harm. He wants those responsible to be punished”.
“Don’t look at us”.
“We had nothing to do with it,” finished Sunstreaker.
“Oh really,” Prowl turned to Sunstreaker, “So this is not you, hanging around the human’s area at 2300”.
Prowl slid an image of Sunstreaker captured from one of the many security cameras.
“Sideswipe, you are dismissed. Sunstreaker, you will report to Optimus Prime immediately”.
“Yes, Sir,” chorused the twins.
Number 43: Hound does not need a flea collar.
“I find you very amusing,” Mirage said, walking over to a group of Autobots that included the resident troublemaker, Sideswipe. Smokescreen and Jazz looked at the unimpressed spy.
“Well, I aim to please”.
Mirage gave Sideswipe an unpleasant glare, “I was joking. Do you know what you have done to Hound, of all mechs?”.
“No,” Sideswipe shifted under Mirage’s glare, “but I think you are going to tell me.”
“You placed a flea collar on Hound”.
“I didn’t,” protested Sideswipe.
“It was you,” Mirage paused, “Now he is in the medbay complaining of a high temperature and feeling nauseous”.
“Come again,n” Sideswipe said, confused.
“He is feeling sick in the tanks, you rusted piece of scrap”. Mirage stepped forward, hands in fists, looking like he wanted to punch Sideswipe.
“Now, now, Mirage. Settle down,” Jazz said, stepping in.
“Let’s not do something we will regret,” Smokescreen added.
“Watch your back,” Mirage hissed. Then he walked away with his helm held high. Jazz and Smokescreen gave Sideswipe a few looks.
“What? I was only doing some pest control after Sunstreaker complained about itching under his plating”.
“Sure, Sideswipe,” Smokescreen said, as even Jazz was unconvinced.
Number 23: “Hey y’all check this, Losers” is not an appropriate way to announce
that you are about to perform an experimental manoeuvre.
Ratchet glanced at the two Lamborghinis occupying separate medical berths, both covered in dents and scratches. Sideswipe was worse as he had lost his left arm and a few digits on his right hand. Sunstreaker was groaning and holding onto his helm. He was dizzy and had vomited quite a lot of energon.
“I see these two look worse for wear”.
Ratchet will forever deny that he might have jumped, though he turned to face the SIC entering the medbay.
“Prowl”.
“Ratchet, I was looking for these two”.
“Well, you found them. They are currently on medical leave, though they won’t tell me how this happened.”
“I believe these two decided to try an experimental manoeuvre for their jet judo”.
“It was epic,” Sideswipe slurred, high on pain medication.
“It was not,” muttered Sunstreaker. Then, he reached for the nearest bucket.
“Though it was amusing when Sideswipe shouted and I quote ‘Hey y’all check this, Losers’.
Ratchet snorted a burst of laughter while Prowl did was not amused.
“You are never to do anything like that again”.
“Oh, don’t worry, they won’t,” Ratchet said, giving the twins a look that made them both gulp, knowing that Ratchet would teach them with flying wrenches.