Twister
In which Medics try something different and learn the true meaning to "Twist".
Red Alert was very close to banging his head on the examination table.
Why was Red Alert very close to banging his head on examination table you ask?
Well, the reason was very simple: Red Alert was bored. Yes, the blue Autobot Medic, who had an amazingly calm temperament, who had survived medical appointments with Hotshot, was incredibly bored.
"Er, Red?"
Red Alert's head shot up. He turned around to see Ratchet standing with his hands on his hips looking slightly amused. "You bored to?" the white ambulance smirked.
Red Alert almost groaned- almost. But that wouldn't do, the responsible Autobot wouldn't submit to boredom.
At that moment the Med-bay door slid open and Hook the Constructicon Medic walked through with… something- something written on his helmet, something that really shouldn't be written on a respectable mech's helmet- let alone a Medic's helmet.
"I hate Minicons." The simple statement was enough to make both Autobots understand immediately, and struggle not to burst out laughing at the rather… vulgar comment written on the green and purple mech's head.
"So, what's on the agenda today?" Hook asked, attempting to draw the attention away from his current… problem.
"Well, I was thinking we could try something new." Ratchet suggested.
Hook's optics narrowed, "something new?" Ratchet smiled, except it was sort of… sinister. For an Autobot. No, it was just… sinister.
"What did you have in mind?" Red questioned, anything to get rid of the unbearable boredom.
If possible Ratchet's smile turned even more sinister. In fact now it was a malicious smirk. Worrying.
"Oh, just a little game called…" Ratchet pulled a box out of his subspace compartment, "Twister."
Rad Alert wasn't sure what he should be more concerned about, a game which sounded like you needed to be extremely flexible… or the fact Ratchet's smirk had just turned into a purely evil grin.
Hm. Red Alert thought, that is going to haunt me in my nightmares.
"So, how do you play?" he asked, already dreading the answer.
"Oh, it's quite simple."
Pure evil. Utterly, absolutely, defiantly, pure evil. Oh well, what's the worst that can happen?
Half an hour later:
Red Alert was wondering how in Primus's name he had got himself in this position.
It's rigged. The spinner is rigged. Why am I doing this again?
Red thought to himself as he tried his best not to overheat with embarrassment. He wasn't in a very… comfortable position. It was rather… embarrassing. Mind you, who wouldn't find leaning over another mech whose nose was currently human inches from your own, staring directly into his optics, chests touching, legs practically entangled, embarrassing.
Sideswipe probably.
Why am I doing this again?
Red repeated as he looked straight into Hook's red optics. The Medic heard a camera click and Ratchet chuckle.
Frag it all.
Red Alert would rather be bored.
