Author's note (2013): This is one of the first stories I wrote in English, back in 1997. This story is based on an idea by Firebird and myself. Some segments we wrote together. :) For this re-post, I edited and revised the story, and added a couple of extra scenes.
English isn't my first language, so there will be some spelling and grammar mistakes in this story. I apologize for any inconviniences this may cause, and I'm grateful for any feedback.
Vac-o-tron was inspired by my vacuum-cleaner and Doris Day's movie "The Glass Bottom Boat".
Transformers belongs to Habro. All incidents in this story are fictious, and any resemblance to living or dead persons, Autobots, Decepticons or other mechanisms are purely coincidential.
Spring Cleaning
(1997/2013)
The Ark
"This is a great day for the Autobots!" Optimus Prime announced one fine day in September.
"Don't tell me," Ironhide groaned. "Not Spring Clean Day, again? It ain't even spring, not even on Cybertron!"
A murmur went through the ranks of the Autobots inside the Ark.
Jazz asked, "What's wrong with Spring Cleaning, man? Makin' all nice and shiny."
"Jazz is right," Optimus said. "Only a tidy base will provide the groundwork for defeating Megatron."
"Besides," Wheeljack informed everyone in general. "I've developed this totally new cleaning gear, which should help us to get the place spick'n span in no time."
Wheeljack had prepared instruction manuals for everyone, and for good measure, handed out a thick book to each bot, instead of just uploading the ReadMe-file into the Ark's library.
A collective groan rose from a group of Generic Autobots(TM).
"Optimal Operation Procedures for the new Optimal Autobot Broom," Prowl read on page 5.
"I'd rather polish my chrome than polish Teletraan's screens," Sunstreaker griped. "Half of them aren't even intact!"
"Well, your polish has to wait, Sunstreaker. We ran out of wax," Optimus replied.
Sunstreaker looked as if he was about to cry.
"Er, Optimus," Ironhide ventured. "Don't you think that some of us should be on patrol, in case the Decepticons try something?"
"I already have a plan, Ironhide."
"Let's hear it!" Bumblebee called from the crowd.
"The Aerialbots will clean the outside of the base, in order to keep an optic on things," Optimus told the assembly. "The other Autobots will receive their assignments from Prowl as soon as we have aquired the cleaning supplies. Also, I have received information from a reliable source that the Decepticons are already engaged... otherwise today."
No one dared to ask for details.
Deceptibase
Soundwave, Frenzy, and Starscream stood in a circle in the control room and contemplated a glibbery-gooey, dark spot on the floor.
"Try something else! Megatron will not like it!" Starscream said, exasperated.
"How did this thing get here anyway?" Frenzy asked.
"Origin and type of stain unknown," Soundwave said after a brief analysis.
Megatron, armed with string mop and bucket, stalked over from the other end of the room. "I ordered you to clean!"
"Mighty Megatron, we are facing a problem which can only be solved by a brilliant mind like yours." Starscream grinned slyly.
Megatron ignored the vibe and instead sneered, "Starscream, your customary facetiousness is overshadowed by that bandana you have tied over your head."
"But you told us to fight this battle by all means necessary!" Starscream protested. He removed the bandana from his head, and bend down to tackle the stain on the floor. "See?" he said after a while, "It just won't disappear! And we tried everything."
"Yeah!" Rumble chimed in, "even nail polish remover. Nothing worked!"
"Nail polish remover?" Megatron wondered. "Why do we have nail polish…" He looked at Starscream. "Never mind. Nothing works? Not even the Autobot Soap I ordered you to steal?"
"Autobot... soap?" Soundwave asked carefully.
"Yes!" Megatron shouted, "Autobot Soap! I ordered you to steal it last week. Bah! I am surrounded by incompetents!"
"But Megatron!" Starscream dissented. "You ordered us to steal the top secret Vac-o-tron device from the human laboratory. We hadn't time to look for any smelly soap."
"No excuses! This is not just any regular soap, it's Autobot Soap!" Megatron shouted and handed over the string mop and the bucket to the Screamer. "Now have a look how a real Decepticon gets rid of a tiny stain like that!" Megatron began to work frantically on the stain with his fingertips, but to no avail.
Dark clouds of anger formed over Megatron's head, and everyone moved out of range, busying themselves with cleaning.
Rumble muttered, "This is geek work! Skywarp should be doin' this!"
Only Starscream stood next to Megatron, seeming a bit lost with his bandana, the rubber string mop, and the bucket in his hands.
Soundwave started playing a merry tune, as Megatron's swearing got louder. "Mop, mop, mop, all day long. Mop, mop, mop, while I sing this song. Gonna wax that floor, gonna make it shine, gonna take off the spray paint with turpentine."
Megatron finally had enough and charged his gun. "I am Megatron, and I order you to disappear, you worthless stain!"
The stain remained.
"Obey! I'm your leader!"
The stain didn't even blink in the face of its imminent destruction.
The Decepticon leader took aim with the fusion cannon. "Disappear or terminate!"
The stain decided to stay and face its end.
"You are brave, stain, I give you that... but you will not win again me!" Megatron pulled the trigger. The weapon burned a hole into the floor, and a scream of pain was heard from the level below, where the Constructicons were working on Vac-o-tron.
"What was that for?" Mixmaster wanted to know, and rubbed his smoldering hide.
"Now that's the way to treat a stain!" he heard the triumphant voice of Megatron from above.
Mixmaster stared at the spot where Megatron's cannon hit him. "A stain?"
Meanwhile, in the Ark...
Optimus had put together a special team to get the required materials (besides the Autobot Soap of Cleaning, of course, which was safely stored right next to the Matrix in Optimus' chest space). Bumblebee was responsible for acquisition and transport, while Spike, Chip and Carly had volunteered to show him to the places with the best bargains.
"Ironhide, you'll go with them," Optimus ordered.
"But, Prime!" Ironhide protested, "This is work for a maintenance bot!"
"Don't argue, Ironhide." Optimus looked stern. "This is important. Besides, we don't have any maintenance bots. They still haven't beem rebuilt after the crash."
Meanwhile, the three humans stood together, checked out the shopping list and wondered how many bases Optimus planned to clean with all the stuff he wanted them to buy.
"Well, the Ark is large," Carly commented, still sounding somewhat doubtful at the sheer amount of supplies.
"I know how much stuff my mother keeps for spring cleaning, but this is ridiculous," Chip said.
"This is going to cost the Autobots a fortune," Spike added.
"Not that they have much money to begin with," Chip said. "All those traffic violation fines, repair costs and liability cases left Optimus almost bankrupt. And no insurance company will take them as customers…"
"Maybe the Autobots can strike an endorsement deal with the cleaning industry, or something," Carly mused.
Spike laughed. "C'mon, that's silly."
"Well, I don't see how they will be able to pay for themselves, otherwise."
Ironhide joined the three, cutting off the discussion. "Let's do this quickly an' quietly. I don't wanna have any of the other Autobots see me doin' this work..."
Back at Deceptibase...
Megatron poked his head through the hole he had blasted into the floor. He saw that the assembly of Vac-o-tron was complete. Vac-o-tron: the ultimate weapon in the fight against the dirt-devils, courtesy of fleshling ingenuity.
"Megatron, do you really think we need something like that to clean the base?" Starscream asked, as Megatron re-emerged from his peep-hole. "It's not that much of a mess in here, because you have us clean the base every Tuesday. Warrior discipline and Decepticon spirit, and all that, remember?"
"Starscream," Megatron replied, with a smug tone in his voice. "Look around, will you? We need something like that just to clean your quarters!"
The other Decepticons chuckled.
Starscream pouted all the way down to the Constructicons' layer.
"Start Vac-o-tron!" Megatron commanded. Everyone took cover, just a mere precaution of course, as a Decepticon had to be prepared at all times, anyway.
Mixmaster flipped a few levers on the construct. "Primay start-up sequence commencing… primary start-up sequence online. Boost up power."
Scrapper added after a few moments, "Boosting! Vac-o-tron is working at full capacity."
Vac-o-tron's lights blinked rapidly, and the sound of an immense suck from the machine's thick trunk roared through the room. The cleaning bot hummed. The hum grew louder, until it was a malicious growl.
The Constructicons stared at each other, before they shot Megatron a dirty glance.
Starscream stopped sulking, and first looked at Vac-o-tron, then for a place to shelter himself from imminent disaster.
"Program: Cleaning." Vac-o-tron moved forward, towards the Decepticons. "Target: Spotted."
At the word 'spotted', Vac-o-tron changed direction towards Mixmaster, who still bore the mark of Megatron's cleaning attempt on him. Mixmaster looked horrified.
Megatron gaped.
Scrapper screamed, "#&$!"
Mixmaster grabbed Scrapper and threw him in the path of the monster cleaning machine.
"Program: Terminate rubble."
"I'm no rubble, you idiot!" Scrapper shouted, and tried to crawl away.
Vac-o-tron accelerated and scanned Scrapper. "Inconclusive data. Sensors indicate target. Directive: Eliminate target."
Seeing that they had seemingly nothing to fear, some of the Decepticons came out of their hiding holes, laughing at the scene that presented itself to them. Scrapper tried to escape, but Vac-o-tron adapted to his speed, sucking up whatever came in its way. Tools and spare components disappeared within the fiend.
Megatron recovered from his shock. "Do something! Stop it!"
Soundwave, Blitzwing, and some others sneaked up behind Vac-o-tron and grabbed it, putting in all their weight to stop the crazed cleaner. Unfortunately for them, this only worsened the situation. Vac-o-tron's suction power was such that it ripped panels out of the floor. Some of the Decepticons tripped, placing them right in the path of mayham.
"Vac-o-tron slowed down by unidentified metal components. Directive: Destroy unidentified metal components and prepare them for recycling."
A panel at the back of Vac-o-tron slid open. Soundwave and Blitzwing exchanged glances, and the Decepticons swiftly got out of the way as a large-sized laser popped out.
"Run!" shouted Mixmaster.
"Destroy!" Vac-o-tron targeted the Decepticons, who had thought themselves safe, and showered them in a curtain of lethal light. "Destroy! Exterminate!"
"It ruined my finish!" Starscream wailed, trained one of his arm-lasers at the device and fired.
"No, Starscream!" Megatron hollered, still worried about his precious machine.
Vac-o-tron turned. "Vac-o-tron under attack!"
The Screamer aimed at Vac-o-tron and shot again. "It's immune to our weapons, Megatron!"
"Vac-o-tron under attack. Directive: Kill opposition. Destroy the grand poo-bah. Eliminate even the toughest stains!"
"Poo-bah?!" Starscream screamed.
"At least it called you the 'grand' poo-bah, instead of the geeky poo-bah!" Skywarp teased.
"ARGHH!" Starscream's optics went bright red with rage.
Vac-o-tron rolled over to the Decepticon second-in-command and the noise of inrushing air increased. The sucking trunk worked its way over the ground and up Starscream's foot like a solidified tornado.
Starscream felt himself losing his grip on the floor. "MEGATROOON!"
"Decepticons! Attack!" Megatron had come to the conclusion that it might be better to give Vac-o-tron a long inspection before it came online again. Either that, or he'd give it to the Autobots as a gift.
The local supermarket.
Carly, Spike and Chip were standing in the household cleaner aisle. Bumblebee - Ironhide had to wait in the parking lot because he was just too tall to even enter the building – had wedged himself into the narrow space somehow, and stared at the rows of cleaning gear, wondering what the heck he should choose.
"Glass cleaner. Bleach. Ummmmm… metal polish? Floor cleaner with Flower, Forest and Sea smell?" Bumblebee paused, then asked, "Why is the bleach lemon-scented?"
While the humans seemed to know exactly what to buy, Bumblebee gave the growing pile of cleaners and cleaning equipment in their shopping carts a wary glance. He wasn't quite sure what they were going to do with all the stuff after spring cleaning, much less how they were going to pay for it.
"Errr, don't you guys think we have enough?" Carly asked, looking alternatively at the carts, the half-emptied shelves, and the shopping list.
'I hope Optimus has a plan for this, too,' Bumblebee thought, watching the pile grow a bit taller when Spike added another box of dishwasher soap.
"We did get all the stuff from the list?" Chip wanted to know.
"Just about. We need to get some wax at the filling station," Carly commented.
Bumblebee looked over her shoulder. "23 containers of diamond quality polishing wax, brand 'Rise and Shine'? Hey, that's Sunstreaker's writing!"
"And Optimus authorized it?" Chip wondered. "That wax brand is really expensive."
"We'll get a few cans, just to be sure," Spike decided.
"We have hardly enough money to pay for the stuff we have already," Carly reminded him.
"Let's get them," Bumblebee sighed. "You don't want to be around if we show up without the wax. Sunstreaker will go berserk."
They wheeled the carts up to the cashiers'. Bumblebee headed for the cubicle that promised quickest results.
The cashier stared up at Bumblebee, then at the items in his cart, and shook his head. "Sorry, you can't pay here. Five items or less. This is the fast lane."
"We want to get out of here fast," Bumblebee replied.
"Er, that's not what he meant, Bumblebee," Spike corrected. "We have too much stuff to get it rung through in this lane."
"Humans," the Autobot muttered. "So, where do we pay, then?" he asked politely, remembering what Optimus had taught him about communicating with flesh creatures.
"There." Carly pointed at the row of cashiers. Each had a considerable number of customers waiting in line. They took their carts to the closest one; the humans who were already cueing there quickly changed their minds when they saw the Autobot smiling at them.
About thirty minutes later, the cashier had scanned the last of their many items, and Carly stowed it in the last cart.
"That's 2,599 dollars and 97 cents, sir," the cashier informed Spike.
"That must be wrong," Bumblebee said, after he had recovered from the first shock. "My calculations show a total of 2,599.99 of your currency."
"The register says 2,599.97."
"Then your register is wrong. Please check again," Bumblebee insisted.
"Perhaps you miscalculated, Mr Autobot," the cashier tried.
"I never miscalculate when it comes to currency, Mister…" Bumblebee zoomed in at the name tag. "Bob."
"I've scanned all items, and you have to pay 2,599 dollars and 97 cents."
"It's only 2 cents, Bumblebee, and in our favour." Spike said, his face beet-red. Between super-saver offers and bonus coupons, he had long lost track of their budget.
"2 cents or 200, that doesn't matter. It would still be theft. Autobots don't steal," the Autobot explained, pride in his voice.
The humans shot at each other exasperated glances.
"Would you please check it again?" Carly looked at the cashier, her eyes pleading him to comply.
"Ma'am," the cashier said. "I have to re-scan all the items."
"Just do it, Bob, please?" Carly said with her sweetest smile, and the Bob the Cashier heaved a sigh.
"For the record, I'm doing this because you asked nicely, Miss. Not because I think that that robot there is right," Bob stated.
"Thank you!" Carly beamed. "Boys, get those carts back here!"
"2599 dollars and 97 cents," Bob announced another 45 minutes later.
"I can't be wrong," Bumblebee said, not believing his own optics, "We Autobots are experts when it comes to numbers."
"Just pay and get out of here, before they throw us out," Spike hissed, while he, Carly and Chip loaded their purchases into carts.
"But Optimus won't like it if I-"
"Optimus won't like it if you upset Bob here any further," Carly chimed in.
"But-"
"Just pay already!" Chip growled.
"Okay, okay… But..."
"What now?" the three humans yelled, and Bumblebee had almost somersaulted back in shock.
"Optimus Prime's credit card got maxed out at the last shop."
Deceptibase
"This won't do. We need the Autobot Soap of Cleaning." Megatron was close to a nervous breakdown. His base was in shambles, thanks to Vac-o-tron, and they were hopelessly behind on their spring-cleaning schedule.
"Retrieval of Autobot Soap - test for new recruit suggested," Soundwave intoned.
"Yes, excellent idea, Soundwave!" Megatron felt better already. "Inform Windrazor that I wish to speak with him."
Windrazor was in his quarters when the summons came.
"Megatron wants to speak to you, Windrazor. He has an important mission for you," Starscream's voice screeched out of the speakers.
"I will be there shortly," Windrazor answered. He finished unpacking the box he had been working on, and proceeded to the conference room where he assumed Megatron to be.
But Megatron wasn't in the conference room. Instead, the silver-red Decepticon heard the voice of his leader booming from one of the lower decks. He screamed something about stains and Autobots. Windrazor wondered what the connection was between them, then decided he didn't need to know. He was a new arrival to Earth, after all. It was not his place to question Megatron.
When he came closer to the large hall, which the Constructions used to build their stuff, he began to worry. The shouted conversation he overheard seemed to center around some event called 'spring cleaning' and the theft of soap. Suddenly, a horrifying thought occurred to Windrazor.
They wanted him to steal the soap.
Not any soap.
Autobot Soap.
Right out of Optimus' bath tub.
The Supermarket...
"Optimus won't like this," Bumblebee muttered over and over, as he and his human friends left the supermarket.
"Be glad that the supervisor agreed to let you pay in installments!" Chip sighed, exhausted.
"I guess that means we won't buy any wax for Sunstreaker, huh?" Spike tried to break up the somber mood.
"Yes," Bumblebee said, crestfallen. "Optimus won't like that, neither."
"What took you guys so long?" Ironhide grumbled, when they had finally rolled their convoy of shopping trolleys over to his place in the huge parking lot. "What's that? Yer planning an invasion or something?"
"I'm sorry, Ironhide," Carly smiled, patting his door frame affectionately. "Bumblebee made a new friend. And no, it's not quite enough for an invasion."
"More like stocking up for a war on dirt," Spike added, helping Bumblebee to load their purchases into Ironhide's already fully packed back.
Ironhide felt the weight of the world of cleaning pressing on his axles, and shifted some of their earlier acquisitions into his subspace pockets to fit in the rest. "Whatever. I just wanna get goin', and get this done so we can get back to what's really important - busting Deceptibutt!"
Deceptibase
Windrazor saluted. "Windrazor reporting in as requested."
"Ah… Windrazor… our saviour..." Starscream grinned.
Windrazor didn't like the sound of that. And he liked the grin on Starscream's face even less.
"What are your orders, mighty Megatron?" he asked, pointedly.
"You will enter the Autobot base and retrieve something that is crucial for our current mission," Megatron said with a straight face. "You will steal the Autobot Soap of Cleaning. Optimus Prime guards it personally. Go now!"
"As you command, Megatron," Windrazor replied, bowing slightly. "I will leave immediately."
This was what he had come all the way from Cybertron to this dirtball planet of Earth? To sneak into the enemy base, engage the enemy leader and steal soap? Impossible.
As he left the room, Windrazor could hear the other Decepticons snicker.
He straightened to his full height. He was made of sterner stuff than any of them. He would succeed, and while he was at it, he would blow Optimus Prime straight out of his chassis.
Windrazor took off into the sky, heading for enemy territory.
Meanwhile, at the Ark...
Optimus Prime watched the progress of the Autobot Spring Clean with a satisfied smile. The Ark was blinking and glittering, almost as good as new if one ignored the occasional odd rock formation and broken screens. Thanks to the Soap, they had managed to get rid of even most resilient stains. And four million year old stains are tough.
"Bring the Soap back to the vault in my room," Optimus told the leader of the Aerialbots. Air Raid nodded, picked up the Soap of Cleaning, and walked down the aisle to Prime's quarters.
Suddenly, an unfamiliar-looking Decepticon jet blitzed him. Who was that, how did the Decepti-jerk get past their defense grid, and more importantly, how did he get past the other Autobots? Air Raid stumbled to the ground, instinctively protecting the Soap with his body. He gasped.
"The soap. Give me the soap!" Windrazor transformed, glaring down at the fallen avian Autobot. He had to be quick - the narrow aisle had them both at a disadvantage. He hadn't sneaked into the Ark and fooled the idiot Autobots to be defeated now. Windrazor grabbed his nameless foe by the shoulder, yanking him upright. The soap was clenched in the Autobot's hands.
The other Autobots had meanwhile caught up with what was happening.
"No, ya don't, Decepticreep!" Ironhide yelled. He grabbed his special issue Optimal Autobot Jackhammer Soaker - according to the Optimal Instruction Manual, page 732, fitted with the Optimal Squirt for optimal results - and doused both Air Raid and Windrazor with water.
"Ironhide - NO!" Optimus yelled, but it was too late. Under the influence of water, the Soap gained its full power. They all knew what that meant.
Air Raid kicked his Decepticon attacker, the Autobot Soap safely in his hands. Windrazor stumbled back. The water beam hit Air Raid, and he felt the water soaking down to the soap. The suds had flooded over him, leaving him bright and shiny clean.
"Oh no. . ." he muttered.
Windrazor grinned. This was his chance. He reached down, and grabbed the soap from the Autobot's hands. Well... That was the plan. But the moment he grabbed it, it slipped from his hand, skidded over the floor and bounced out of sight.
Windrazor cursed fluently in his native language. As if it wasn't bad enough that the mission was humiliating, it wasn't even going well!
He dashed after the soap, tackling several Autobots in the process and finally caught it in a leftover pile of dirt. Now gritty, he could hold it, and think of escaping. Killing Optimus Prime would have to wait until another day.
Air Raid cursed the living daylights out of the sky. His gears were blocked, and it became hard to move as he tried to chase after the Decepticon, out of the Ark and into the open.
Windrazor shunted the madly foaming soap to subspace, grinned at Air Raid, transformed and took off.
Air Raid tried to transform, but his configuration joints were locked as well and he was reduced to crawl on the ground.
"Aerialbots! After him!" Air Raid shouted from his undignified position. "I can't transform!"
"Get up, Air Raid! You have to follow him!" Ironhide shouted, but for some reason Air Raid couldn't fathom made no attempt to fly after the escaping Decepticon himself. Neither did any of the other Autobots, who just watched the Aerialbots vanish in the distance.
"I'm still stuck!" Air Raid growled angrily. He waited for his internal repair system to kick in, frustrated and annoyed by Ironhide's tone as well as his own feelings of embarrassment. The nanoscopic technicians swarmed to his joints, both root and configuration, and proceeded to give them a new coat of grease. The grease warred briefly with the soap residue, then won out, driving it back ever so slowly. Again, he sent the command to his nanites, and the flow of lubricant increased. He would need to renew his lubricant levels once this was over, but it wasn't over yet!
Finally, he broke the transformation lock and took off, eager to chase down the Decepticon, regain his dignity, and that blasted piece of Soap.
Somewhere between the Ark and Deceptibase
Windrazor was in trouble. Deep trouble.
He had managed to shoot the Autobot fliers out of the sky some time ago, but now the soap he had stowed in his subspace compartment started to play havoc on his internals. The seemingly unlimited supply of fine foam which bubbled from the soap's surface soaked into his electronics and mechanical components, slowly but steadily. Windrazor could feel short outs rampaging through his system.
"Unhand the Soap, Deception!"
A laser blast singed his left wing.
Another Autobot flier! Cold slag. Windrazor knew he was in no condition to fight. Desperate, hoping to outrun both the Aerialbot and his own technical difficulties, he channeled all available power to his thrusters, and took off in the direction of Deceptibase.
He could hear the Aerialbot screaming behind him, and contemplated radioing for help, but knew he would never live it down if he needed help to steal soap from Autobots!
So, he pulled himself together. Or rather said, he tried to pull himself together. The Soap had found its way into his transforming circuitry.
"Uh-oh."
He lost control over his body instantly. Windrazor's plane nose clapped down, and his arms came out of the plane shape. The sudden turbulences this caused almost ripped him apart.
He lost valuable time and lead while he tried to stabilize his course again. He had almost managed the feat, when he suddenly transformed back to plane mode and his engines cut off. He plummeted down.
"Slag!"
What he said next can't be translated into any human language - undoubtedly to mankind's benefit - but the Autobot understood it all too well. Language like that was not permitted in Optimus Prime's army, but that didn't mean they didn't use it when he wasn't around.
Air Raid inhaled sharply. No one insinuated that about Prime and lived to see the next dawn! Boosted by righteous indignation, he caught up to the troubled Decepticon.
Windrazor looked back, realizing that he wouldn't make it back to base; short of a miracle, perhaps. His engines were down, his transformation was highly unstable, and on top of it he had lost all sense of direction.
He could see sky above him, and pulled up towards it. At least, he thought he was pulling up.
When he slammed into a hard surface, he clued in very quickly. "Ow!"
There wasn't a part of his body that hadn't deformed or was aching. Still, he had a mission to complete! And how ridiculous would he be in the eyes of his fellow Decepticons if he couldn't even steal some slagging Soap?
Aforementioned soap was now lying on the ground, bubbling gently, almost like a living, breathing creature, and got sandier by the minute.
Windrazor tried to grab it, but he couldn't get himself to move. His gears were covered with fine soap foam.
"Gotcha now, Decepticreep," Air Raid hissed, and he couldn't hide the triumph in his voice. He added some choice words in his native language, plus a few frills he'd picked up from Sparkplug, retribution for Windrazor's slight on his creator.
Windrazor's optics gleamed with barely suppressed anger. He tried to fire his weapon, but nothing worked. His self repair system released a flood of lubricant to his gears, but the troublesome foam clashed violently with it. Even the smallest movement ended with a loud screeching sound, when metal rubbed on metal.
Air Raid stretched out his arm, took the Soap, and held it in front of Windrazor's face with a grin. "You looking for this?"
"Autobot wretch!" Windrazor growled. He lunged at Air Raid, and knocked him over.
Air Raid kept a firm grip on the soap, wondering where the other Autobots were.
Autobot and Decepticon struggled hard, and finally Windrazor got a corner of the soap between his fingers, and he pulled hard.
"Let go of the Soap!" Air Raid snarled angrily, when he realized that the Decepticon was more trouble than he had bargained for. "This Soap is Autobot property!"
"Well, boo-slagging-boo," Windrazor snapped back, raising his fist and punched it square into Air Raid's face.
"That Soap is mine now!" The silver-red Decepticon smiled when his opponent staggered back. But the Autobot didn't give in that easily.
"Like the Void!" Air Raid screamed. "Unhand the Soap!"
The two robots dragged and tore; neither of them willing to give up.
"Decepticons never surrender!" yelled Windrazor.
"Neither do Aerialbots!" Air Raid shouted back.
"That Soap is mine!"
"No - it's MINE!"
Suddenly, there was a squelch, then a 'yerp' sound. The Soap broke in two.
At once, the fighting stopped. Sheepishly, the two bots looked at the bubbling remnants of cleaning glory, then at each other.
"This ain't over, Autobot!" Windrazor decided to cut his losses, and took off with his share, trying to transform as he went.
"Coward!"
Air Raid sat on the ground, and stared after the fleeing Decepticon, then at the remains of the Soap he still held in his hand. He sighed. Returning with just half the Soap was bad. Of course, it was better than nothing. Still... "Optimus Prime won't like this."
Back at Deceptibase…
"Windrazor approaches," Soundwave informed Megatron.
"His flight pattern is somewhat erratic," Starscream added. "He seems to be incapable of holding a straight course."
Megatron cleaned his hands on the washed out, apron-like cover he wore to protect his paint job and sensory systems, then looked over Soundwave's shoulder to the screen. "Does he have the Soap?" the Decepticon leader wanted to know.
"Affirmative," Soundwave sounded darkly.
"What will we do, now we have the Soap?" Starscream asked Megatron.
"Clean, Starscream," Megatron answered sarcastically. "Or are you not familiar with that particular function?"
The other Decepticons laughed, and Starscream glared at them. Here he was, the finest warrior of them all. Oh, the glory of the battlefield! And what was he expected to fight?
Dust and dirt.
"Who does Megatron think I am? Maid-o-tron?" Realizing that no-one was paying attention to him, he sighed and headed for the Energon depot. Minutes later, there was the resonate sound of a heavy body falling down when Starscream had overenergized and hit the floor.
But no-one could be bothered to check up on the warrior. It was an all-to-common occurrence.
Windrazor, upon landing, brought the soap directly to Megatron. He only wanted to be rid of the stuff, and go have a nice long soak in hot oil.
"Megatron," Windrazor saluted, trying not to sound as if he just wanted to crawl into his recharge bed and never leave again, "I bring you - part - of the Autobot Soap of Cleaning."
He held up the mangled piece for Megatron to claim.
"Part?" Megatron thundered. "I told you to bring all of the Soap!"
"I apologize, my lord Megatron," Windrazor humbled himself, "but the Autobots intervened and the soap - malfunctioned - in subspace, and interfered with my transformation abilities. It was part or none."
Secretly, he was impressed that Megatron could be imposing even while wearing pink.
"Well, part is better than none. You have done well, Windrazor. Such heroism!" Megatron kept a straight face, but he knew what kind of humiliation praise for saving the Spring Clean day would be for any warrior.
Windrazor knew it too, but did not let the sinking feeling in his fuel processor show. "Thank you, mighty Megatron."
"I want every Decepticon to know that, thanks to Windrazor here, the Autobot Soap of Cleaning was retrieved from the hands of those weaklings." Megatron slapped a hand on Windrazor's shoulder. "His name shall be honored from this day on on forward on every Spring Clean Day! All, hail Soap-Master Windrazor!"
Windrazor half-crazed scream of desperation drowned in the loud cheers of the assembled Decepticons.
Soundwave looked at Windrazor with a mixture of amusement and pity, then took the Soap out of his hand. "Soap-Master..."
The other Decepticons didn't even bother to hide their smirks.
Windrazor's hands clamped into fists. He wanted to melt into the floor. Instead, he thanked Megatron, and waited to be dismissed, so he could go to his quarters and get thoroughly over-energized.
One Earth hour later, he keeled over and fell to the floor.
"Maid-o-tron!" was the last thing he mumbled before he went offline.
The Ark, at the same time…
"Nonono! That won't work!" Wheeljack watched how Ironhide and Hoist heaved Air Raid into the large pool. The Aerialbot was still unable to move, thanks to his previous encounter with the Soap and water.
"More to the left!" Wheeljack directed them. "Yes, that's good... Now, lower him!"
Unfortunately, Ironhide's grip slipped and Air Raid plunged into the pool. Waves of cleaning oils poured on the floor of the repair bay.
"Sorry there, 'Raid. Take yer time relaxin', will ya?" Ironhide grinned, cheerfully ignoring that he had just ruined half a day's worth of diligent cleaning.
"When you're done with making a mess here, help me outside, Ironhide. The maintenance bot I have developed together with the humans was just delivered to the Ark," Wheeljack said.
"Maintenance bot? Yer kiddin'!"
"Not at all. Vac-o-tron is the ultimate fusion between Autobot and human technology."
"Yeah, that's all fine, Wheeljack, but… a maintenance bot?" Ironhide rubbed the back of his head as he followed Wheeljack out of the repair bay. "Can't you invent somethin', like, useful?"
"You want to go spring cleaning again next year?"
"Yer have a point there. Vac-o-tron, eh?"
The repair bay was quiet. With a sigh, Air Raid let the liquids sink into his joints, and reflected bitterly that the next time Optimus Prime wanted something cleaned, Air Raid would be someplace else, on a different planet, preferably. He tried to relax, the warm liquid soothing is strained nerves and chafed body. For a while, the world was at peace. Air Raid smiled.
Suddenly, an explosion rocked the Ark.
The alarm klaxon blared through empty halls.
Air Raid sat up. What was that? Another Decepticon attack?
The door to the main corridor slid open and revealed an unknown whackadoo of a robot, Autobot insignia painted freshly on its chest.
"Attack: Apprehended. Enemy: Annihilated," the stranger announced coldly. "Vac-o-tron commencing mission. Program: Cleaning."
From somewhere outside he heard Optimus scream, "Wheeljack!" and then some profanities that made Air Raids audio receptors burn.
"Vac-o-tron acquiring target."
The behemoth rolled towards the oil bath.
Air Raid climbed out quickly, but with the slick mess on the floor, he fell flat on his face after a few steps.
"Target: Spotted."
"Slag!"
Epilogue
Optimus Primal handed Rattrap the brightly colored fabric. "Now, Rattrap, don't be stubborn. Our Autobot ancestors have performed this ritual for the past three hundred years, and I see no reason why we should abandon it just because of our conflict with the Predacons. Spring Cleaning is a sacred tradition."
Rattrap stared at the apron in disgust. "Fine. But I ain't wearin' this outfit."
The End