"The watering hole is a dangerous place even for the king of beasts." The image of the lion creeping down to the water hole held the two mechs' attention as they watch the lion carefully dip its muzzle into the water. "What seems to be a quiet place to get a drink can turn deadly in the blink of an eye…"
Hound tensed slightly as the camera pulled back to reveal a crocodile swimming stealthily towards the lion. He clicked the remote freezing the image on the tv screen. He looked up from where his head rested in Trailbreaker's lap and said, "The lion or the crocodile." He held up two energon goodies in his other hand.
Trailbreaker studied the screen thoughtfully. The quiet in the empty rec room stretching on much longer than Hound thought was necessary. He was about to call a foul when Trailbreaker glanced down at Hound. "The crocodile."
"You sure?" Hound grinned at the black mech trying to shake his confidence.\
"Positive."
Trailbreaker was obviously set on his answer so Hound clicked play and the video resumed. Suddenly the crocodile lunged from the water and snagged the lion's muzzle and it was over in a second, only splashing remained.
"Oh, you're good," Hound chuckled and handed over the energon goodies and the remote.
"Nah, it's all a matter of leverage. The crocodile's jaw is incredibly strong and the lion was caught totally by surprise." The video continued with a giant snake hiding in the underbrush. An alligator made its way towards the swamp. Trailbreaker froze the image again.
"Okay," he said, holding up 4 energon goodies. "The alligator or the snake?"
Before Hound could respond, Trailbreaker held up his hand to stop him, the faraway look of an incoming internal comm in his optics. "Yes, Prowl?" he said out loud to let Hound know what was going on.
Trailbreaker, I need to see you in my office…and bring Hound with you.
"Okay, be there in a few minutes. And I'll see if I can find Hound." He smirked down at Hound and Hound covered his mouth to suppress the laugh.
…Which should take a nanoklik. Just bring him.
"Right, right, be there…with Hound…in a couple of minutes."
Hound pushed himself up and shut off the television. "What's up?"
Trailbreaker shrugged. "No clue. Prowl wants to see us in his office."
Hound gave Trailbreaker a mock horrified look. "I didn't do it."
Trailbreaker laughed. "Dog, I could blame the last dozen pranks on you, but Prowl thinks you're as pure as the driven snow."
Hound grinned angelically. "Me? Primus forbid."
"I know. We'll leave Prowl innocent of your devilish deeds. Let's go. He's waiting."
Trailbreaker knocked on Prowl's door. It slid open and Prowl's "Come," drifted out. The two mechs entered, but Prowl continued to work as if he was totally unaware of their presence. Hound and Trailbreaker pulled up chairs and sat down, use to this lack of greeting. They tried to relax while they waited watching Prowl work, the suspense rather thick between them. Trailbreaker let his optics roam the room while Hound studied Prowl trying to read his mood. His optics flared when he spotted something hanging from Prowl's chevron.
Hound elbowed Trailbreaker and directed his attention to the object. Looks like a worm. he commed his friend.
Trailbreaker tried to see it better without looking too obvious about it. I don't know, sort of, but it doesn't look alive. It's just…hanging there.
Hound leaned forward to get a better look just as Prowl looked up. Hound jerked back trying to hide his curiosity. Prowl glared and Trailbreaker snickered. Smooth move.
"Is something the matter?" Prowl asked quietly. He looked at them, schooling his expression to something unreadable.
"No, no…well," Hound tried to look innocent and apologetic but only managed a suppressed amusement. He looked to Trailbreaker for help but the big, black mech just smiled at him. "You, uh, have something on your, uh, chevron. Sort of wormlike…heh."
Help me, 'Breaker. I'm dyin' here.
You're the one with the insatiable need to look at everything. Don't bring me into this. If we're in trouble, it can only make it worse.
Hound continued to smile benignly at Prowl but slid his foot over and kicked Trailbreaker in the foot.
Prowl's hand snapped up to his chevron feeling around until he snagged the tiny thing on his head. He looked at it coolly and then squeezed his hand tightly around it. "Yes, I see." He cocked his head slightly and looked at Trailbreaker and then at Hound. "This is why I called you. I need a favor."
Trailbreaker opened his mouth and closed it again. Hound forgot to close his mouth. Finally, Trailbreaker managed to get a hold of his surprise and said, "A favor? I guess, sure. What can we do for you?"
Prowl leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. His expression took on a decidedly evil aspect. "Payback. And I need you to be discreet."
Trailbreaker and Hound looked at each other, their surprise turning to understanding. They looked back at Prowl. "Details, Prowl, details."
"Mud," Hound said thoughtfully, as they walked back to the rec room.
Trailbreaker chuckled and shook his head. "Hound, Hound, Hound, despite the pleasure you and I derive from the substance, well, because of that singular pleasure, it's all wrong. To pull off a successful practical joke, and this is something Sideswipe really needs to learn, you have to be careful that it doesn't point straight back at you. And if you can point it back to someone else, all the better. When was the last time you saw me in the brig for a prank? Never, right?" He tapped his head. "It's all in the planning and the details. So, while mud is an excellent suggestion and I'm sure Prowl included you in this particular little caper just for those types of suggestions, we still have to be very careful to redirect attention."
Hound nodded thoughtfully. He'd never thought about pranking in this detail. He'd always thought it was a spur of the moment thing, sort of an opportunity strikes situation. It was obvious now that Trailbreaker put a lot of thought into his practical jokes and pranks. Hound was learning very quickly that it was an art. "Tell me more, my mech."
Trailbreaker nodded wisely, "Yes, my little glasshoppah, I shall teach you the ways of the perfect, untraceable practical joke. You've already had the first lesson: it must be untraceable. The second lesson involves timing. The timing must be perfect. This may involve a good deal of research. Never, ever neglect the research…"
Rules Number One and Two:
It must be untraceable. Preferably, it should point to an innocent bystander.
Timing is everything.
Jazz dragged his weary body through the corridor towards his quarters silently cursing Prowl. He knew the strategist had assigned him this particular patrol after checking the weather and determining that it would be the worst of the season. Actually, he had only himself to blame he acknowledged to himself. The Silly String incident, gorgeous in its simplicity, had been a masterpiece and whatever punishment Prowl decided upon would be endured if not enjoyed.
Jazz had done his duty. He'd given his report directly to the second in command who'd accepted it with barely a glance in his direction and without a word of greeting. That was probably what was causing the normally chipper mech to drag his feet. He was sure he'd been forgiven, but Prowl's behavior said otherwise. Primus, it was just Silly String.
He paused in front of his door. It felt like it'd taken forever to get there. Entering the pass code quickly he stepped towards the opening he expected to appear in front of him. The saboteur pulled up before he could bang his nose on the closed door. Grumbling, he entered the code again. Still the door refused to open. He growled and decided to give the door one more chance then he was going to shoot it open if he had to. He carefully entered the number. A human saying came to mind as the door slid open. Third time's the charm.
With a sigh, he stepped into his quarters and came to a halt as he found himself embedded in something soft and sweet smelling. He couldn't move forward so he backed out grabbing handfuls of the mysterious material.
Standing in the hall again, he looked at his hands. He was clutching flowers. He looked at his room. It was stuffed full of flowers, flowers of every description and size. It smelled nice but prevented him from getting to his recharge berth. As realization dawned, he turned to the security camera and pointed at it.
"I'm recharging in your room," he said and headed for Prowl's quarters.
Prowl jumped slightly as Jazz turned and pointed at the camera. Of course he was watching. Trailbreaker had said timing was everything and to keep an optic on the saboteur when he returned. He couldn't state exactly when the prank would occur but when everything was right, Prowl had better be watching. So Prowl watched Jazz move slowly down the corridor and he remembered Jazz saying exactly the same thing: Timing is everything.
Even though Jazz had guessed who was responsible for the prank, and a good one it was, he didn't know who had set it up. Prowl was willing to take the blame, but he hadn't expected him to go to Prowl's quarters. He jumped to his feet and raced for the door. It was all right for Jazz to sleep in Prowl's quarters, but at the moment Prowl didn't want him to be there alone. Alone with the few belonging he possessed.
Rule Number Three:
If possible, escalate, escalate, escalate. Especially if you have been given free rein.
The Second in Command caught up with Jazz just as the third in command arrived at Prowl's door. Jazz smirked at the police car and quickly entered Prowl's private code, supposedly known only to Prowl, into the keypad. They both expected the door to slide open and barely managed to check themselves when it didn't.
"Did you change your code," Jazz asked.
"No," Prowl answered his voice trailing off suspiciously. "Let me try it." He punched in the code and still nothing happened. "Oh, slag," he whispered.
Jazz grinned knowingly at the tactician. "So, who did you get to pull the prank?"
Prowl shook his head as he entered the number for the third time, confident it would open this time. "Privileged information."
The door did slide open and Prowl stood there and stared at the mass of shredded paper and packing peanuts that filled his room. He reached in and pulled out a handful before sighing in resignation.
Jazz's grin widened and he started to laugh. "Well, whoever it was, when I find out, I'm going to be the first one to shake his hand. So, where shall we go, rec room or Officer's Lounge?"
Prowl let the paper and foam drop out of his hand, resigned to an uncomfortable night wherever they decided to stay. He'd call someone in the morning to take care of the mess. "Officer's Lounge," he finally replied. "The fewer mechs we meet the longer it'll take for the chitchat to start."
Rule Number Four:
Don't overlook anybody who could possibly be included in the prank./b
Optimus Prime was feeling rather pleased with himself when he entered the Officer's Lounge the next morning. The meeting he'd attended in Washington, DC had gone very well, and the drive back had been extremely pleasant, good weather the entire way. He paused in the doorway, though, when he caught sight of his second and third in commands draped unceremoniously across the furniture. Jazz was sprawled half on and half off the big couch, his visor dark and his mouth slightly open, so deep in recharge that he was completely unaware of Optimus' presence.
Prowl, though similarly sprawled in the armchair, legs propped on Jazz's lap, was reading from a data pad. He turned his head and blinked at Optimus. "Good…uh, morning, Optimus," he said after a quick check of his chronometer. "Did you have a good trip? I'm reading your report of the meeting now."
Optimus tilted his head curiously. "It went quite well, thank you. Um, may I ask why you two are here in the lounge instead of in your quarters at this hour?"
Prowl winced slightly. "You may ask," he answered not willing to give up any more than that.
Optimus narrowed his optics at his second in command. "Prowl," he said, his voice a growl of warning. He didn't like to use that tone of voice on Prowl but sometimes it was necessary.
Prowl rubbed his chevron as he thought about the best answer he could give Optimus. To be caught pursuing practical jokes or pranks was not good for his dignity. "Uh, well, our rooms are uninhabitable at the moment."
Jazz snorted. He wasn't quite as off line as he pretended. Optimus and Prowl glanced at Jazz and then back at each other.
"I…see," Optimus said carefully. "I trust this problem will be taken care of this morning?"
"Yes, sir," Prowl nodded. "As soon as the day crew comes on shift."
"Fine. I'll see you this afternoon, then." He turned without waiting for a response and after getting some Energon, headed towards his own quarters.
"You know he's going to check our quarters, right?" Jazz said, his visor still dark.
"I know, I know. I should've told him the truth."
"If we hurry, we can make it to the control room before he gets to our rooms. I'd really like to see his expression."
Prowl smiled at Jazz and led the way out of the lounge.
As Jazz and Prowl predicted, curiosity got the better of Optimus and he stopped at Jazz' room first. The corridor was empty and quiet, the door shut tight. He used his override code and the door slide open. He stared at the empty room. Yes, it was dark but he couldn't see anything obviously wrong with the room. He stepped inside and ordered the lights up. He turned around 360 degrees and still couldn't find a thing wrong although there was a faint odor of some sort of perfume in the air.
In the control room, Jazz and Prowl watched with shocked expression.
"What?" Jazz said in surprise and then ducked as Prowl's doorwings sprang straight up in astonishment.
"Oh, he's good," Prowl whispered more to himself than to Jazz.
"Apparently," Jazz responded quietly.
Shaking his head, Optimus headed straight for Prowl's room and repeated the room inspection, again finding absolutely nothing out of place.
Prowl could only nod as he watched the events on the security monitor.
"So, you think it's over with?" Jazz asked.
Prowl cocked his head thoughtfully. "Somehow I don't think so."
Optimus stood in the corridor contemplating the mental states of his tactician and head of Special Ops. He was definitely going to have to make sure they had some sessions with Smokescreen. With a shrug, he headed for his own quarters, unaware that he was being watched by those same mechs.
His thoughts elsewhere, he entered his pass code and waited for his door to open. After a moment, he took a step back from the closed door and studied the keypad. Had he entered the wrong number? He carefully entered the correct number and waited. Again nothing happened.
This is ridiculous, he thought as he studied the door and the keypad. iOne more time then I'm calling Wheeljack. He placed each large finger carefully upon the buttons, making sure he pressed them all equally. This time he heard the motor engage and the door started to slide open.
He barely waited for the door to open before rushing in. He was tired and wanted to get some recharge before going back to work. His rush was halted suddenly as he was bounced back into the corridor. He blinked his optics in confusion as a familiar sweet odor surrounded him. Approaching his door more slowly, he reached into the spongy mass blocking his door and pulled out a handful of shredded paper, packing peanuts and flowers.
Turning slowly, not sure whether to be angry or to laugh, he looked up at the security camera positive he was being observed. "Jazz!"
In the command center, Jazz and Prowl watched Optimus fumble with the keypad. Prowl just kept shaking his head at Trailbreaker's audacity while Jazz was barely keeping his laughter under control. When Optimus bounced back into the corridor, Jazz lost control of his poorly contained amusement and fell out of his chair with a crash of metal and guffaws.
"Jazz!" came bellowing over the speaker and the saboteur could only gasp, "I didn't do it."
Rule Number Five:
Don't be present for the events but be sure you have access to copies of the security discs.
The next day, when all the evidence of the prank had been removed, Trailbreaker snagged Hound on his way in from patrol. Without a word, the black truck led the jeep to his quarters where he shut and locked the door. With a flick of his wrist, Trailbreaker produced the security disc from the night before and waved it in front of Hound's optics.
Hound grinned as he realized what was going on and waited patiently for Trailbreaker to slide it into the player. The truck handed the jeep a cube of energon and they settled back to watch their carefully arranged plan play out.
