Story title: Human Encyclopedia: Autobot Version.

Chapter title: Rock, paper, scissors.

Story summary: One-shots and drabbles about the Autobots trying to understand humans and getting utterly confused in the process.

Chapter summary: Coby and Bud try to explain Rock, paper, scissors to Prowl. It doesn't go to well…

Genre: Humor.

Rating: T for nine curse words.

Words: 383 (Not including any of this or A/N's)

Pairings: None.

General A/N's: Okay, I'm changing 'To confuse humiliate and/or annoy the Autobots' name. I like 'Human Encyclopedia: Autobot Version' a bit better.

Story A/N's: I'm imagining Coby and Lori being somewhere in between 19 and 21, and Bud about three years younger then them both.

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Prowl looked over at Bud as he cursed loudly.

"Damn!"

"Ha! You lose. You get to explain to Lori why her lab coat mysteriously set fire yesterday."

"Double damn. Two out of three!"

"You're on!"

The two beat their fisted hand against their open palm three times before stopping.

"Scissors beats paper!"

"Shit. Tiebreaker."

They repeated the process, which ended in Bud cursing loudly… again.

"You lose yet again little brother. Now, go on. Go tell Lori what happened to her lab coat. Oh, and don't worry, I'll make sure you have a nice funeral."

Bud groaned. "Damn. Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn. Three out of five?" He ventured.

Before they could restart the process, Prowl intervened. "What in the name of Primus are you two doing?"

Coby looked up at him, barely suppressing a grin. "Rock, paper, scissors."

"…What?"

"It's a game."

"Would you please go into more detail about this… game?"

"Well, we use it to figure out who gets to do something. Like just now. Since Bud lost, he gets to tell Lori what happened to her lab coat."

"So… your species uses this… game to make your decisions?"

"Uh, no. We just sometimes use it for insignificant, unimportant stuff. The actual important stuff takes more thought, or someone in in a position of authority. Sometimes we even vote."

"How exactly do you play this game?"

"You have three different options. Rock, paper, or scissors." He moved his hand around to accommodate each symbol. A fist for rock, a flat palm for paper, and two of his fingers in a snipping motion for scissors. "Rock smashes scissors, scissors cuts paper, and paper covers rock."

Prowl tried to wrap his processor around this new tidbit of information. The rock would have to be fairly large to efficiently smash the scissors, and surely by that point a piece of paper couldn't cover it up. And even if it could, a mere piece of paper couldn't stop a rock. And at this point, the smashed scissors wouldn't be able to cut the paper. And, and, and…"

Coby turned to Bud, his fisted right hand resting lightly in his left hand's open palm. "Loser gets to tell Ratchet why Prowl's logic processors overloaded."

"You're on!"