AUTHORS NOTE: Crack Fic! Total crack! Beware! Total silliness and non-conformity! I've read many delightful and entertaining 'crack' fics on FFN, and I want to add my own bout of craziness to the mix.
What's 'crack', for those who don't know? Something so silly and outrageous that it would never happen. 'Crack' can be any universe, any time, any place, mixed up together or with big chunks ripped out.
I can already hear cries of 'That's disgusting!' 'That's sick!' 'That's not in character!' And what am I responding with? SHUT UP! This is fun! Go get some damn popcorn..
EARTH, Tranquillity, USA.
Ironhide had come out of recharge early. Even earlier than before Optimus, for Primus sake. Although he had heard some faint rustlings coming from the Leader mech's room.
The Earth sun wasn't yet up. Dawn was still an hour away. Ironhide, grumbling, as always – he was NOT an early morning mech – availed himself of a tin of distilled high grade energon, seated himself at his communications terminal in the rec room and began zipping through all of the new information available on the World Wide Web. He didn't get far. Reading one particular titbit that seemed to be appearing on every web site and newsfeed on the web, the details of the newsflash went straight over his head. For one nanosecond, anyway...
"WHAT!!!!!!!!" Unswallowed energon was spewed over the com terminal. Ironhide hurriedly tried to wipe it off with his fingers, reading the wording on the screen, "No! NO! That's just... not right." He choked, blinking his optics a few times, trying to clear his vision. Nope, nope, it was a hundred percent functioning. Oh dear Primus, this was just unbelievable.
Unbelievable but very entertaining.
He carefully studied the many pictures available for a few astroseconds, decided against opening the clickable videolink since it came with sound which the others would hear, and looked secretly down at the space between his own legs. Damn it, now he definitely knew Optimus was better than him, EVERYWHERE. Slag it.
While Ironhide was the one bot who brought trouble down upon his head as easily as a fly attracted to dead meat, he was very respectful of the sensibilities of his fellow warriors. Usually.
"OPTIMUS!" he screamed over his shoulder, his voice rebounding through the Autobot base. "Get your sorry aft out here! NOW!"
It was two glowering bots who came stomping and tripping blearily down the hallway and into the rec room. "Ironhide, what on Cybertron is the problem?" Optimus rumbled.
Ironhide pointed at the screen. The discriminating pictures and writing were all too clear. Yet, Optimus did not react as 'Hide thought he would. The big bot merely sighed, looking down at the floor contemplatively.
"Well. This was not unexpected." Optimus said slowly.
"UNEXPECTED?! That's you! There! On the screen, all over the humans World Wide Wotsit! WITH A SLAGGIN' FEMME!" Ironhide yelled, jabbing one metal pointy finger at the shameful screen.
Ratchet was practically blubbering next to them. There on the screen were parts of Optimus Prime that only Ratchet ever saw in discrete medical checks. And that was not all. There was a Transformer femme also showing 'bits' comparative to Optimus' impressive male, er, 'bits'. While Transformers did not, and could not, perform a sex act in the human style, what they could do was not too far away from it. As ably demonstrated by Optimus and the femme. Together. In many positions. As far as the cables would stretch, anyway.
Optimus Prime was very flexible and masculine. And now the rest of Earth knew about it as well.
Ironhide and Ratchet were both staring at Optimus. How could he be so calm? Ironhide, twisting around in his seat, was seeing his legendary Commander in a whole new light. Ratchet still looked horrified.
"B-but... that's... it... can't be true, can it?" Ratchet stuttered. His cool and competent medical facade had been abruptly dropped.
"It is. I'm sorry," Optimus rubbed one hand slowly over his face. "Obviously, Barricade has decided he cannot do anything to us by himself with regular war tactics, and he has dug around some very old Cybertronian datalinks and found this, for humiliation." And I thought they were all deleted, damn it! He thought desperately.
"You know, I did expect it to be that big, you do have a lot of experience to pass on through that cable, Optimus," Ironhide said thoughtfully, turning his head to the side to inspect the middle of the picture. Ratchet smacked him hard in the back of the head.
"OW! Ratch!"
"Shut up, glitch. Now, Optimus, this needs to be explained, right now, right here. Spill it." Ratchet pointed one threatening finger at the chest of his ages old friend. Ratchet had thought he'd known simply EVERYTHING there was to know about Prime's past and present. He must've missed something somewhere...
"This was, THAT was, a very big mistake I made in my very first days as my new self," Optimus began, linking his hands behind his back in what he hoped was a comfortable seeming gesture.
Ratchet twitched his optic ridges reflexively, "You mean after you were made Autobot Leader."
"Er, no, this was before that. I was upgraded from a regular protoform into something more like what I am now. And I think it went to my head for a while, being so different and powerful."
Ironhide snickered. Well, duh.
"I needed credits, my financial situation was rather dire. I was young, and very desperate. I also had an overactive interface drive." The last sentence was said as a quiet murmur.
"And the three of us know just how much credits were available for mech's who were willing to perform in such a way," Ratchet filled in the silence for him.
Optimus forced himself to lift his head from staring at the floor, he had decided for himself long ago that he would never be embarrassed by what he had done and he refused to change that oath now. "Those credits paid for the first thousand or so Autobot insignia brandings. Not to mention keeping the new weapons division fully stocked and loaded for many vorns. It was the beginning of the Autobots." He hoped his explanation would be acceptable to his friends.
"Riiiiiight." Ironhide stood up from his chair. "And the title 'Iacon Gets Primed' is just a fanciful whimsy. What's the sequel, 'Optimus Does Cybertron'?" He was referring to the graphics displayed crudely over the top of the pictures. Advertising for the product. "Okay, OKAY, sorry. We must deal with this as adult mech's." Ironhide back tracked quickly at Prime's withering expression and the violent hiss of Ratchet's air intakes.
"Heh." The others were startled by Optimus' sudden chuckles. "I can see the funny side to all this."
Ratchet looked at him like he was mad, "I can't!"
The frenzied shrieking of the Autobot comlink channels interrupted them. "I'll get it," Optimus said with resignation, pivoting around and leaning forward to click the button, bracing himself.
A violent series of Cybertronian clicks, whistles and digital warbles hit everyones audios.
"Yes Bumblebee, I have seen it, and it is not a joke."
A long whistled question.
"No, no, it's a surprise to them too, they didn't know, I was just explaining. It happened a long time ago," Optimus sighed, staring up at the ceiling, shifting his weight from one metallic foot to another.
A short burst of rapid clicks.
"What? No, you cannot download the entire thing! Forget it! That's an order!"
A sombre whistle and a swift querying click.
"Sam is not allowed to view it either, even if he has got a copy already! Delete it!"
A stuttering click and digitally perked whoosh was the response.
"Oh for..." Prime slapped his hand to his face, "Tell Mr and Mrs Witwicky you are definitely not a pervert, NONE of us are, yes including me, sadly, and you will not in any form defile Sam's dignity or honor. Got that?"
An affirmative whine, followed by a short squeal.
"Bumblebee, honestly, you are far past the age for 'You show me yours, I'll show you mine'. Do not show Sam your equipment, no matter how convincing he is."
A quick hopeful click.
"That goes for Mikaela too! She should know better! Tell her no!"
Optimus, frustrated, cut off the comlink with a muttered swear word, frowning.
There was silence for a moment. Followed by raucous mechanical laughter.
"Oh my god... Slag this is good...!" Ironhide groaned, thumping one hand on the table top, laughing. Ratchet was bent over, hands on knees, crying tears of clear energon.
"Our Optimus, the Porn Star!" the medic gasped.
Optimus shrugged his massive shoulders. "Ex-porn star, Ratchet. Don't forget the 'ex' bit."
If there is anyone who wants another chapter, it will take a lot to convince me. Honestly.