Boring Day

Author's Foreword:

Now, before you read this, I feel obligated to say that I was extremely bored when I wrote this so there, you had your warning!

Everybody has those days when there is absolutely nothing happening. Now I don't know about you but from my personal experience, the smallest things can sometimes spin out into something so ridiculously random and unbelievable, some of my friends have trouble believing me that some of things I say actually happened. I don't like being bored so I rely on my randomness to spice up my day and it rarely let's me down. If you ever come to hang out with the people me and C.M.D. hang out, you will be amazed by the sheer randomness, trust me.

Boredom, nothing was happening, at all; nada, slim Pickens, zilch, absolutely nothing. No Decepticon attacks, no random catastrophes that humans just loved getting themselves into- the most exciting thing happening in the past week was a tree falling into the lake.

Grimlock, resting his head on the edge of the table and glaring into space, and Kup, feet on the four-legged furniture piece, leaning back on their chair, were sitting in the rec room.

The dinobot was quite displeased that the rest of his team was ordered to stay on Cybertron and the oldbot was trying to find anything in his data banks that reminded him of this moment.

Jazz and Hound were playing 3D chess, the lambo twins, unable to come up with any more pranks were leaning on each other back-to-back, idling. Mirage and Tracks were going through the fine-grade collection for the bagillionth time already. Seaspray, Ratchet, Iron Hide and Smokescreen were lying on the couches, lazily playing yet another game of poker, occasionally breaking the mortifying silence. The rest of the Autobots were either on patrols or bored out of their skulls in their quarters. Even Wheeljack's inventions proved to be unsuccessful in breaking the atmosphere. Suddenly, Grimlock stood up and slammed his fist on the table, breaking it:

"Me, Grimlock, bored! BORED!"

"… but there is nothing to do, kid!"

"Then make thing to do!"

The dinobot marched to the fine-grade stand, completely ignoring Tracks and Mirage, he grabbed four bottles with his one hand, ripping off the sealing with the other and after chugging the contents down, he smacked the empty vessels onto the ground:

"Drinking contest!"

"… they divided themselves into three groups …"

Optimus Prime and the rest of the Autobots were quite shocked to find out after their return from their latest mission, that The Ark suddenly went off-limits to them when its defenses were activated. After a while, all patrols gathered just outside the kill-zone and with Perceptor's help began piecing the whole picture.

"… the first group consists of Seaspray, Warpath, Jazz, Smokescreen, Tracks and Huffer ..."

They thought that the Decepticons had something to do with it but it came quite a shock to everyone to find out that the others all got drunk …

"… the second group includes Iron Hide, Ratchet, Mirage, Hound, Hot Rod, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe …"

… and decided to play "war".

"… and the last group?"

"Optimus, sir, the last group is Kup, Blaster, Wheeljack and Grimlock."

"… all we need is a little energon and a lot of luck …"

"BAHABLABALABAM! OW!"

With a cannon sticking out of his chest, it became really hard for Warpath to keep his balance once he got drunk.

"Ey! Watch where you fall!"

"Your big gun is poking me! Stop poking me with your thick gun!"

"What? You don't like him poking you?"

"No! I don't like people poking me with their big, long and hard guns!"

"You guyhs are all, hic, latent homoshmurfshuals …"

"We partyin'! Woo! Hey! Your bed won't ring!"

"Stop poking me! Go softer!"

"And lower!"

"KABLAM!"

"Now he is poking me with two things!"

"Jazz! JAZZ!."

"What?"

"Want me to poke you too?"

"We pokin' Jazz?"

"Jazz has a jazz-y j-ass!"

"As a zyphreakingiatrist of all you, retardeds, I want to participate in this experience …"

"How's this gonna help us win the game?"

"What the hell are we playing?"

"Poke Jazz!"

"No! No pokey! No! Only Prowly!"

"Your bed won't fly me to the moon!"

"EVERYBODY POKE JAZZ!"

"CHAAAAARGE!"

"FEEL THE POKEY OF MY GUN! BOOM!"

"Don't shoot prematurely!"

Suddenly, a loud explosion blew off the door. All six mechs, piled up on Jazz, looked in the general direction as Prowl walked into the room, holding a hose extending from Inferno:

"Stop poking my poke-mate."

With these words, he fired a powerful stream of foam into the pile-up, throwing the five 'bots off of Jazz.

"Wee! He is spreading his foam on us!"

"Prowly!" Jazz slowly got up, wobbling, "Prowly! They tried poking me! I resisted!"

"Jazz, it's ok …"

"No!" Jazz extended his arms towards his bondmate and glomped him, "Prowly, I freaking love your gun. It is so huge and thick and you never have any trouble making your way around mine!"

"Um, Jazz, come on, let's get you to …"

"No!" the Special Operations Officer tripped Prowl over, topped the police car and gave him a peck on the lips, "You made me hot for you so we are doing it!"

The Porsche forced a full out kiss with tongue when his body suddenly began trembling. Their mouths were still forced together when...

"Mm, mm, brghrgh, bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrghhhh …"

"Ew," Inferno transformed, cringing at Prowl's misfortune, "This is so going on youtube …"

"Bluestreak, report!"

"Optimus, sir! Our efforts to bring the first group down was successful although Prowl is, um, incapacitated, to put it lightly. Speaking of light …"

"Bluestreak, what happened to Prowl? Actually, no, don't tell me, I will ask Inferno. All right," the leader turned to his soldiers, "Red Alert, go help out Inferno. Ultra Magnus, Springer, Windcharger, Arcee, Blurr and Hoist, you guys go after group two. Bluestreak, Perceptor, Cliffjumper, Bumblebee, let's go after group three. Autobots! Transform and roll out!"

Iron Hide and the lambo twins thought it would be funny if Ratchet opened up Hot Rod's chest and screwed around with his internal circuitry. The medic didn't protest, neither did Hot Rod; in fact, the orange colored mech insisted to be given pain-killers so that he would, too, be awake through the whole thing. Now, Ratchet was telling stories as he was rearranging the youngbot's organs:

"… so he wakes up, his skeleton is missing and the doctor is nowhere to be found!"

"Ahahahahahahaahahahahaha!"

"… and that is how I lost my medical license!"

"AAAAAAHAHAHAHA, wait, what?"

"RAGGLE FRAGGLE!"

Springer ran into the room and jumped on Iron Hide, making him spill his drink into Hot Rod's open chest. Hoist quickly made his way to the confused Ratchet and puffed some gas into his face that made the medic sneeze into the orange mech's opening. Quickly recovering, the medic grabbed an endoscope and began swinging it, eventually hitting himself on the face and falling unconscious on Hoist. Blurr and Windcharger sprinted towards the lambo twins and making short circles around them, tied the two up before they could do anything. Ultra Magnus got in last and ran towards the youngbot:

"Hot Rod!"

"Hey! Ultra Magnus! Look!" The orange mech took his heart off the operating table and volleyed it to the commander. "You have my heart!"

"Mirage!" Hound said, breathing heavily after yet another overload, "We should get drunk more! This is fantastic!"

"Damn right! First class is the best! First class rides, first class …"

"Hey, boys!" Arcee walked into the room, naked, "For the next few hours, you two are my bitches!"

"Optimus Prime!"

"Yes, Perceptor?"

"Springer notified me that they just took care of team two."

"Good!"

"Hot Rod will require Ratchet to sober up if he will want to function further …"

"What happened?"

"Um, I think it is best that you don't know."

"Uh-huh, all right. So, how are we going to tackle those four?"

"Optimus, I am too young to die!"

"Bumblebee, we all are …"

"J-j-just hold on! 'K? Jus' need tah tweak with the capaciteh here …"

"Kid! Don't blow the freakin' thing up again!"

"Grimlock like explode-y thing that dada make! More!"

"While ya fellaz chillin', imma gonna go chill with music! Vi undrar är ni redo att vara med …"

"Weeeee! Me, Grimlock, like beat-y box!"

"Will ye turn it loudah? I can' hear crap! You want this thing to 'splode or not?"

"Hey, kid, say that line again."

"Wha' line?"

"Ya know, hic, the one where you say boom n' universe!"

"Grimlock love boom!"

"You guys want boom?"
Cliffjumper took out a grenade launcher roughly twice his own size, seemingly out of nowhere, and threw it into the middle of the room, the blast wave throwing the four off to the sides.

"Where the hell do you keep these things? Speaking of …"

"Bluestreak, NOT NOW! Bumblebee! Let's go get Kup!"

"GRRRAAAAAAARRRGGGHHH!"

Grimlock, wobbling, stomped his way towards the two intruders but was heroically stopped by Optimus Prime; who grabbed the dinobot in mid-motion, catapulting both of them through the wall and falling down a few levels.

"Bumblebee! Why are you always late? How can you be always late? You were right behind us!"

"It doesn't matter, all right? Let's just …"

"You were reporting to Megatron, weren't you?"

"This reminds me of Shutthefragup II, the petro-rabbits …"

"Shut the frag up!"

"I will give ya ol' aft petro-rabbits!"

"Blaster!"

"Yo, man! What the hell? Why you crashin' on mah crib?"

"Oh, Blaster, there is something I have to tell you!"

"Wait, wha'?"

"Oh, I kept it to myself for so long! Well, quite long but not really all that long but I guess it depends on how you look at it I mean for me it seemed like a long time but for you it may be …"

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT TO TELL ME?"

"Oh," Bluestreak looked at Blaster with watery optics and a slight blush on his face and slowly approached the boombox, "I-i-i-i-I think I am …"

"Bluestreak?"

He looked into the red mech's eyes and now, even slower, leaned in to give him a peck on the kiss.

"Bluestreak …"

"I am sorry, was that too forward? I am so sorry …"

The mech was interrupted by Blaster wrapping him up in his arms and giving him a passionate kiss; overladen with a very strong twist of fine-grade, intoxicating Bluestreak.

Perceptor walked in to find Wheeljack coughing, trying to make his way through the smoke of the explosion:

"Freakin' slag! It's my job to make shit 'splode! Gotta fix that hunk a' crap!"

"Wheeljack!"

"Percepteh! What da fuck you guys doin'?"

"The Ark's defenses were activated!"

"Oh, no freakin' way! I turned that shit off!"

"Wheeljack, you poured nitroglycerin over the controls!"

"Yeah, so?"

"Wheeljack! They exploded!"

"Oh, man! I was wonderin' why I was hearin' the high pitched noise …"

"Now, it is time to end this game of 'war' and …"

"Wait, what game?"

"Well, I noticed there were signs of battle and you guys divided yourselves in groups!"

"Percepteh, what da fuck you been smokin'? LSD?"

"I do not think you can do that …"

"Ey! Dun you tell me what I can or can't do! I made a fuckin' time machine! I made the dinobots fer cryin' out loud!"

"And how did that end?"

"Eh, right …"

"So, what were you doing?"

"We were just bored and then Grimlock was all like 'eh, lez drink' and crap! Finally turned shit aroun'! N' then Tracks, Iron Hide and Blasteh got into a fight oveh Mechtella, thaz when we separated and started the fightin' but then we were all tired and jus' wanted to chill so we all went our separate ways. Hey, you seen a pink pickle ridin' a shoe unicorn with laptops for wings righ' behind ya?"

Optimus and Grimlock, holding each other, crashed through a few levels of the damaged spaceship, finally landing in some dark room.

"Oh, this will leave a mark. Grimlock?" He couldn't see the dinobot but he could definitely feel his huge body on top of his, "Grimlock?"

"Optimus," Grimlock said with a very sleepy voice, wrapping his arms around the Autobot leader and making himself more comfortable on the red mech, resting his head on Prime's chest, "Me, Grimlock, like you, Optimus, a lot!"

"Um, Grimlock?"

"Night, night, Oppy," the dinobot yawned and fell asleep, "Sweet dreams."

P.S. … I know what you are thinking … what the fuck … well guess what … me too!

P.P.S. … nope, no cassetticons this time … Soundwave was too busy helping them recover from their previous experiences …

P.P.P.S. There really was a pink pickle riding a shoe unicorn with laptops for wings right behind Perceptor …

P.P.P.P.S. Mirage and Hound became Arcee's bitches for a few hours … Grimlock didn't let go of Optimus until he woke up with a hangover on the next day; no matter how hard everybody tried to tear him off of Optimus …

Author's Notes:

For some time I actually forgot about this fic but recently C.M.D. sent it over to me after editing it and holy crap was it weird to read it again after all the weeks. Sad thing is, I laughed at it and cried at the same time ... it was really sad ...

It seemed kinda natural to me that they would break up into those groups and do what they did, don't give me crap for any of this, high-grade does wonders in changing people, if you do not agree with me, why don't you compare the people you know prior to drinking and after they had a fair amount? From my experience, they change.

Thank you, C.D.M. for editing and reviewing!