Like a Record Baby
Disclaimer: Hasbro owns these mofos. I just own the story…
Pairings: Nope! Just a Prowl and Jazz friendship! 8D
Warnings: OOC, crack/silliness, author's bad attempt at humor *headesk*
~OoO~
"Hey Prowler…?"
The Datsun looked up from his datapad, his mate looking at him with a wide grin that had a hint of mischief. Oh, this had to be good… and not in an amusing way!
"What now, Jazz?" Prowl muttered in annoyance, propping his elbow up on the large grey desk while his fist rested on his cheek. The other black and white's grin only widens. Actually, it didn't look good at all…
"Do ya wanna spin?" The Porsche asked as he leaned towards his mate, his chair creaking by the sudden shifting weight and his cyan blue visor glowing with anticipation.
Nope, definitely not good.
Prowl blinked once…twice…thrice…if that was even a word…all were done with confusion.
"Do I want to what?" He asked, icy blue optics squinting a bit.
"Spiiiinn…?" The Porsche said, sounding as though he was talking to a sparkling. "Ya know, when ya make a whirling motion rapidly…?" He made a little circle gesture with his index finger to indicate his point.
"I know what the term means, you dolt!" The taller black and white mech yelled in anger, door wings flared up matching his emotion. "Just- ….spin, what, exactly?" He took a couple of quick deep breathes to maintain his cool.
Jazz pointed at the Datsun's chair, his grin turning into a smile. "Your chair, of course…" He then pointed to his mate. "…with you in it…"
However, Prowl was not convinced. Instead, he just simply glared at him, only his optic ridges didn't narrow so in other words, he just stared at his mate in disbelief.
"Why would I want to do that?" And there was no doubt that he was not amused…
"Could ya at least quit with the questions for once?" Now Jazz was getting annoyed when he released an exasperated sigh. "And for your information, it's just that ya just a lil' break from work, is all…"
"Jazz, I know I need a brief moment from my work, but these datapads are important and-"
"You always say that when you're working. Aren't I important..?" Jazz interrupted, though his voice sounded pitiful.
The Datsun looked at him and in an instant, he regretted it. Oh no…he's pouting…the bottom lip puckered out, his blue visor retracted, thus revealing his shining green optics…not the Puppy-dog face.
"Oh, please Jazz, no. Not the face, Bluestreak invented that face…" Prowl sighed, placing a hand over his optics.
For a dramatic effect, Jazz let out a poor little whine from his vocal cords. "Please, Prowler? Just…do it for me?" he asked. "I'll leave ya alone for the rest of hour."
Liar, Prowl thought, but his doorwings slumped in defeat at any rate. "Fine…but you better not say a word to anyone..." He warned. "Otherwise the damn Twins would have a field day."
The Porsche grinned stupidly and saluted. "I swear, Scout's honor."
"…You're not a scout, Jazz."
"Don't kill the mood, Prowler…"
Prowl sighed again, only this sounded irritated. "The sooner we're finished doing this, the sooner I can get back to work."
The saboteur gleefully pumped a fist in the air and then he said, "Okay, first things first…you gotta relax…"
The doorwinged mech did as he was instructed, cycling air into his vents and cooling his overheated frame. "Okay…what's next?" he inquired.
"Next, hold on to something. Like…uh, the arms of the chair."
Hesitantly, Prowl placed his hands onto the arms, clenching a bit tightly.
"Is that all?" he asked.
"Yep, pretty much." Jazz replied, grinning. He went and grabbed the back of the Praxian's chair, gripping on the cushion tightly. "Ready?"
"Uh…ready…"
And with that, Jazz slowly turned the chair to the left and then he quickly turned it to the other direction, letting go of the chair completely. He watched in amusement as his mate was gripping on the chair's arms to his dear life as it swirled in circles rapidly.
"JAAAAAA-AAAAAZZZ!" Prowl yelled, his surroundings becoming blurry as the chair continued to spin in a frightful speed.
The said mech guffawed loudly, coolant of laughter prickling his optics and he clutched his mate's desk to keep his wobbly balance steady. "Buahahaha! You should be enjoyin' this, mech!"
A few seconds went by and the chair slowed down. Once it completed stopped, Prowl stood up….or at least tried to as his own balance was shaky and his vision was distorted and wavy.
"…Kchh.." It was a strange sound he made as his optics was twitching and flashing oddly.
BZZT!
The poor mech collapsed to the floor, face first as the back of his helm suddenly released tiny sparks and puffs of smokes.
Jazz, whose laughs had died out, stared at his mate in shock…
….
"…RATCHEEEET!"
"DAMMIT JAZZ, WHAT DID YOU DO NOW?"
END
A/N: Wow, my first time at writing something in the humor section and I failed hard…pffft. But ya'll should know what song I was listening to when I typed this! X3
And try to ignore the lack of details and the disastrous grammar/spelling errors in this one, too. It was a bit rushed so you can easily tell that I had a bit too much fun… while drinking Pepsi. C8
Review please? :D
