Family Picnic
Disclaimer: Transformers is property of Takara-Tomy and Hasbro. I'm just borrowing it.
"Ron, you have to wear the shirt," Mikaela could hear Judy chastising Ron.
"I know, I know. I just hate that nickname," Ron said before closing the door to his room. A couple of minutes later, Ron and Judy came down the stairs. Each was wearing a green golf shirt with white collar and cuffs and their names embroidered in white thread. The exception was that Ron's had 'Buster' written below his name.
"Sam, get a move on!" Judy shouted. Sam barreled down the stairs moments later. The name on his shirt was 'Little Sammy', but the shirt was a couple of sizes too small. Mikaela was slightly impressed by the way it outline Sam's abs (which he had been working on since his flight from Megatron), but it was obvious that Judy was not from the scowl on her face. "Sam, the new shirt your Grandfather sent over is right here on the coffee table. Why aren't you wearing it?"
"Oh, is it?" Sam asked, trying to look innocent.
"Put it on, hot shot," Ron said as he threw Sam the shirt. "If I have to wear this stupid thing, so do you." Sam sighed and started to pull his undersized golf shirt off, but Judy stopped him.
"For goodness sake, have some modesty, Sam. Go use the downstairs bathroom and make is snappy!" Sam pulled his shirt back down and hustled to the bathroom. Moments later he had his new shirt on, which fit much better, and had the name 'Sam' embroidered on it, with 'Ladies' Man' just below. Mikaela snickered.
"Alright, everybody into the cars," Ron announced. "You can take Mojo." Ron and Judy got into his classic green Porsche while Same and Mikaela piled into Bumblebee, with Mojo jumping excitedly into the back seat. Bumblebee squirmed unhappily at having the dog inside of him.
Bumblebee let Sam have control as they drove to the lake. Between two trees had been hung a banner that read 'Witwicky Sparkplugs Company Picknick'. Mikaela gasped.
"What's wrong?" Sam asked.
"I didn't realize you were one of those Witwickys," Mikaela explained.
"How many other families did you think there were with the name Witwicky in Tranquility?"
"I guess I just never put it together. We haven't really been dating that long," Mikaela stammered.
"Welcome to my perfect little life," Sam said as he pulled into a parking next to Ron. They leashed Mojo and got out of the car. "We'll just be hanging around here for today, Bumblebee. I hope that isn't too dull for you."
"I like to watch, I like to watch you bounce, bounce," Bumblebee sang.
"Uh, right. Okay, see you later." Sam said while Mikaela made a little wave to the Autobot. Then the couple headed for a big open-air tent set up by the lakeside where Ron and Judy already were. Several other people wore the same style of green shirt as Sam, while everyone else wore nametag stickers.
"Well look at you!" a portly woman called out to Sam as he and Mikaela approached the sign-in table. "You look wonderful, Sammy,"
"Thanks, Doris," Sam said.
"Now who's this lovely young lady?" Doris asked from her seat behind the table as she picked up a clipboard.
"I'm Mikaela. Mikaela Banes," Mikaela replied.
"Hmm. Banes, Banes, Banes. Ah, here you are. Welcome to the picnic, Mikaela. Have a wonderful time," Doris said as she handed Mikaela a nametag sticker and a Sharpie marker to write her name on it with. "You have a good time too, 'Ladies' Man'."
"Thanks," Sam said with a grimace. Mikaela finished filling out the sticker and put it on. "Okay, now we go introduce you to the extended family," Sam said as they walked away from the table and headed for the knot of green-shirted people. Mikaela nodded in agreement and steeled herself for a long round of introductions.
"Sammy!" A man in his early 40's called out when he caught sight of Sam. The man's green shirt had the names 'Stephen' and 'Spike' embroidered on it.
"Hey, Uncle Steve!" Sam replied as he and Mikaela entered the circle of green shirts. Mojo hurried to sniff everyone's ankles. "Everybody, I'd like to introduce my girlfriend, Mikaela Banes." All the individuals Mikaela didn't already know replied with variations of 'Hello'. "This is my uncle, Stephen, his wife, Carly, and their son, Daniel," Sam said as he indicated to his vocal uncle, a blond woman standing next to him, and a 12 year-old hanging in the background. "And this is Grandpa Sam." Grandpa Sam was a man in his mid-70s of much the same build as Ron who was sitting on a picnic bench at one side of the circle. His green shirt had the nickname 'Sparkplug' below the name 'Samuel'.
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Witwicky," Mikaela said as she shook his hand.
"Please, call me Sam," he replied.
"That could get a bit confusing," She replied as she glanced at Sam.
"Right you are," Grandpa Sam laughed. "How about Grandpa?"
"It's a bit early for that," Sam said as he blushed.
"Fine. Sparkplug, then?"
"Sure," Mikaela agreed.
"Good, good. Tell me a bit about yourself, Mikaela," as he indicated for her to take a seat beside him. She sat down and started talking.
"Well, I go to the same high school as Sam and we have a bunch of classes together," Mikaela said.
"Like that's not obvious. There's only one high school in Tranquility," Daniel snarked.
"Danny. Manners." Carly said sternly.
"Sorry," Daniel said and he went back to paying attention to his DS. Mikaela looked back from the boy to Sparkplug and continued her story.
"Sam came to my rescue and drove me home when my former boyfriend and I had a fight over his patronizing me," Mikaela explained. "The jerk wouldn't let me drive his Hummer because he assumed I'd scratch it and called me his 'little bunny'."
"So, I take it that you consider yourself more of an independent woman?" Sparkplug inquired. He wasn't being sexist, but older people have phrases in their vocabularies that just won't go away despite no longer being politically correct.
"Well, I enjoy shopping as much as the next girl, but I'd rather be working on an engine than hanging off somebody's arm."
"Oh really?"
"Um, yeah. So forgive me if I'm a little tongue-tied, but it's pretty exciting to meet you," Mikaela rambled. Sparkplug laughed.
"You know, I've gotten that reaction from everyone from street racers to NASCAR pit crews, to auto industry executives, but never from a pretty girl. Mikaela, you have just made an old man's day." Sparkplug said and Mikaela smiled. "Sammy?"
"Yeah, Grandpa?" Sam answered.
"You hold onto this one."
"I'm trying," Sam said, looking slightly unhappy.
"Now, how about we make this day even better and you show me this new car of yours?"
"Ah, sure."
"Danny, make yourself useful and hold Mojo's leash," Carly said as she took the leash from Sam and handed it to a sour-looking Daniel. Sam lead his grandfather, Ron, and Stephen back up the hill to look at Bumblebee.
"Well, Sammy, you've certainly earned that new nickname," Stephen said as he patted Sam on the back.
"Yeah, about that. Where did you guys come up with that name?" Sam asked.
"Danny said you were using it on the internet," Sparkplug said.
"Oh," Sam replied. He filed that bit of information away for later. They arrived at the car and Sparkplug whistled.
"Now you are going to have to explain to me how you came by this gem," Sparkplug requested.
"Well, you remember that big terrorist attack in Mission City?" Sam asked and Sprakplug and Stephen nodded. "I was there. I had taken Mikaela there for our first official date, 'cause I wanted to impress her, but the whole downtown turned into a war zone. I kinda helped take out the chief badguy, but my car, a '76 Camero that Dad and I went halfers on, got blown up."
"Hold on, you helped take out a terrorist?" Stephen asked. Sam nodded. "Will wonders never cease."
"Anyway, the government wanted to give me a reward. Said they'd pay for college or give me a medal, or something, but I said 'just give me a new Camero' and they took me literally. They actually paid GM to build this for me. It's a prototype of next year's new Camero."
"A-mazing," Sparkplug muttered. The four men stood around admiring the car for a few minutes, then went back down to the tent. When they got there, Mikaela had a question.
"Now, Sam's nickname I understand, but what's with the rest of them?"
"Well, mine comes from the company, obviously," Sparkplug began. "I started out working in a sparkplug factory to make money to pay for college. I came to understand that the reason so many sparkplugs were needed was because they'd get gummed up and stop working. So, in what little spare time I had, I came up with a new sparkplug that would spark hot enough to burn the gum off. The side effect was that a little of the anode would burn off each time it fired, but I eventually got it so that my sparkplugs would work 20% longer than a regular one. I got a patent with the money I had saved for college and started making them by hand. The company grew from there."
"Wow," Mikaela said.
"Now, the design's improved since then. Spike went got his degree in metallurgy and improved the alloy of the anode so it would last longer, and then he brought his buddy, Chip Chase, that guy over in the wheelchair," Sparkplug pointed to a wheelchair bound man in the crowd, "He brought Chip into the company to design electronic fuel injection systems for us."
"Chip's a whiz with computer hardware design and programming. He's even taught Danny a bunch," Stephen said and Daniel nodded. "Your turn, Buster." Ron grimaced.
"I got my nickname because I liked to take things apart, when I was Daniel's age, to see how they worked. The problem was, I could never put them back together right," Ron said dejectedly. "Then I learned what manuals are for."
"He also got his MBA and came to run the financial side of the business," Sparkplug said. "He cut a lot of waste out of our budget and personally turfed anyone on the line that slacked off."
"He is therefore not only the buster of alarm clocks, but also the buster of balls," Stephen laughed as Ron glared at him. "I got my nickname from volleyball in high school. I was one of the good players on the team, and one day Mom came out for a game. During a particularly heated moment in the match, she yelled 'Hit it! Spike!', to tell me to spike the ball, but everyone else thought she was calling me Spike, and the name stuck. Later on, it got revived by my tweaking the anode alloy."
"I don't see the connection," Mikaela said.
"The anode could be considered a spike," Stephen said.
"Ah," Mikaela said, now understanding. "And now Daniel has found Sam a more grown-up nickname than 'Little Sammy'."
"Yeah, but he'll always be our little Sammy," Stephen said as he gave Sam a noogie. "Eew. How much gel did you put in there, Sammy?" Sam just shrugged.
"Ah, Sam, can I talk to you for a little while in private?" Daniel asked.
"Sure, Danny, come on, I'll show you my car," Sam and Daniel walked back to Bumblebee. "So what did you want to talk about?"
"I saw your e-bay page, Sam. You were selling great-great-Grandpa Archibald's stuff. How much money did you make?" Daniel asked.
"Nothing. The auctions expired with no bids," Sam said warily.
"That's too bad."
"Why?"
"Because you need to come up with 100 bucks or I'll tell Grandpa."
"You little rat!" Sam said as he pinned Daniel against Bumblebee's passenger side.
"What you going to do? Hit me?" Daniel asked with a smirk. Sam considered for a moment, then brightened up.
"No, I'm going to make sure your Dad finds out what happened to his engine diagnostic machine," Sam said darkly.
"You wouldn't," Daniel said with a slightly scared look.
"I would. Wiping the memory while trying to install a game was not the smartest thing in the world, Danny."
"It was an accident!"
"Yeah? So why didn't you tell him that?" Sam asked. Just then, the bell rang to indicate that lunch was ready. "Saved by the bell. Don't forget this little chat." Sam released Daniel, who ran back to the tent.
"Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me," Bumblebee sang. Sam glared at his car for a moment and then sighed.
"Yeah, you're probably right. Counter-blackmailing Daniel isn't going to solve the problem in the long run."
"Give the man a prize!"
"Sam! Dinner!" Judy bellowed.
"Later, Bumblebee," Sam said before loping back down the hill to the tent and whatever disappointment Grandpa Sparkplug would heap upon him when he fessed up.
Songs: "Hotbox" by Prozac, and "Let there Be Peace" Christian hymn