All was quiet for once; no alerts or Ironhide getting overly excited training; the minor twins where mostly entertained playing video games against some of the off duty soldiers. Hell; even the major twins where behaving.
Or so everyone thought. It was no surprised to Jolt and Ratchet when they passed Jazz and Prowl; locked in a heated argument over the state Prowl had been in when he awoke from his rest cycle a few minutes prior. Nor was the state his frame was in.
"No Jazz, I will not calm down-"
"C'mon Prowler, S'only a little paint."
"It is not just a little paint! My door wings are zebra print!"
"I kinda like it."
"Don't even try to lie to me, Jazz. You might be able to fool anyone else; but not me. Your processors are almost at overload from containing your laughter."
The taller had a point, as Jazz finally allowed himself to crack a few chest plates and run his vocal processor raw with laughter as they walked. Prowl took it all in stride; less concerned with his friend laughing at him as he was with throttling the Lambo twins. He also had a few choice words in mind for whoever supplied them with the painting supplies.
Back on the other side of the corridor; Jolt opened a private link with the medical officer, "Ratchet... don't you think we should tell Prowl about the head gear he's missed?"
The old mech just sighed grumpily, "Only if you want to spend the next three days on one of my tables. Right next to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker."
Minutes later; after the medic and his assistant had reached the medical bay and resumed their work; the base was rocked by a rumbling explosion and shouts of "RUUUUUUN! PROWL'S GONE INSANE!" and "Don't scratch the paint! DON'T SCRATCH THE PAAAAAAIIIIINT!"