Title: Weigh Anchor 2/2 Author: masitfoot (aka Saffiter)
Disclaimer: I don't own them and I promise to put them back when I'm finished. I don't own Talk Like a Pirate Day, either.
Rating: PG Summary: In honour of Talk Like a Pirate Day. "Off with you, Simmons, It's time to walk". A not so gentle shove placed him on the short walk to a rather watery end.
Notes: This is part of my Flipside universe which you don't have to have read to be able to understand this fic. No, Jazz isn't dead in this. I don't like how they killed him, so I just pretend that he got really slagged instead (and Ratchet got really slagged off at him).

Below him a large tank of liquid, its' origins questionable, sat quietly. He couldn't go back. The way was well and truly blocked by people he'd thought he could trust. The only way was forward and down, down into that... he hesitated to call it water.

"WALK! WALK! WALK! WALK! WALK!"

Around him, a rabid crowd. It was not his day today.

Something sharp and metal poked into his back urging him towards the empty air.

PROD PROD PROD

Insistent little bugger, wasn't he?

"Off with you, Simmons. It's time to walk". A not so gentle shove placed him on the short walk to a rather watery end.

With a snarl, Simmons whirled on his tormentor. "I'll see you in hell, you cold-gutted, parasitic bastard"

His tormentor laughed, saying something, but Simmons wasn't listening. A brief one fingered salute and he was turning back, manic grin on his face, to fling himself off the edge.

The crowd cheered... It was the last thing he heard before water claimed him.

ONE HOUR EARLIER...

"Simmons! That spineless, bumboat chunk of rotted seaweed shall be a walkin' th' plank this eve and bloody end to them as shall gainsay me!"

Silence.

Utter silence for five seconds as they all stared at the one human they were least expecting to join in the "Talk Like a Pirate" bandwagon.

Banachek held his furious pose for another second before looking mildly sheepish. "Sorry, Reg, but you roped me into this".

Sam immediately offered the use of the kiddie poll his father still had stashed in the back of his garage. That idea was quickly vetoed by Lennox and Epps. It was just too small for what they wanted to do. They wanted to drench the guy, not make him look incontinent.

A passing aide remembered there was a larger pool in base storage. "It's more like a really, really large tank".

Bumblebee and Jazz quickly set of to find and fill the tank with water... and possibly more. You could never be quite sure when those two started scheming.

The aide had been right. The tank really was quite large and it was perfect for what they had planned.

"It's for experimenting! Really!" had been Simmons' reply when they asked him what they needed a tank that big for.

Banachek snorted. "Oh, and who was the one who dunked Torely from Accounting in it last year?"

"That would be the scientists from the ag-lap. He wanted to cut funding." Simmons looked mildly insulted. "Remember? They were yelling 'FOR SCIENCE!!' as they dropped him headfirst into that..." he waved his hand at the tank "...thing".

Banachek wasn't buying it. He'd worked with Simmons for too long. Besides which, he'd been there when Simmons had suggested it. "Yes, but I distinctly remember you giving them that idea in the first place... I've been meaning to ask, why orange food dye?"

"Orange food dye?' mouthed Sam looking at Lennox. The older man grinned and gave a shrug. He was as clueless as Sam was about this.

"It wasn't orange. There was an accident while they were debating on if red or yellow would be better." Simmons didn't look the least bit sorry. He also appeared to be trying to edge away from the tank.

"C'mon, Simmons" Jazz picked him up before he could get away and placed him on a wooden board above the tank. "Time to walk th' plank".

"You're really going to make me walk the plank?" He didn't sound angry, just amused. Jazz's only answer was to prod him in the back. He laughed.

"Don't worry, Reg" Banachek called up to his partner. "I'll make sure they keep the red and yellow food dye away".

"WALK! WALK! WALK! WALK! WALK!"

Those crowded around stared chanting and Simmons gave them a quick grin before snarling at Jazz. "I'll see you in hell, you cold-gutted, parasitic bastard!"

Jazz simply laughed."Awww... is that any way to speak to a friend?"

Simmons wasn't listening. He flipped off Jazz, who had started prodding him with a finger again, gave a manic grin and flung himself off the plank into the water below.

Banachek gave a small, if slightly evil smile. "I make no promises about the other colours, though".