The Diego Diaries: Thanks(4)giving (dd6 530)
-0-Mall of Metroplex, The Grocery at the Mall of Metroplex, Autobot City, et al
"This goes on forever," Ironhide said as he pushed a cart. Ratchet was walking in front consulting the household data pad, his aft swishing from side to side like that of a runner or other long legged athlete. Ironhide could watch it all orn long. "What are you getting?"
Ratchet glanced back. "Everything," he said with a giant smile.
"Why am I afraid," Ironhide said as they walked toward the chocolate you-name-it sections.
"Practice?" Ratchet said with a grin as he began to dump large quantities of all kinds of chocolate into the basket. He swept dried candy, dried fruit, candy bars, pretzels both yogurt covered and not, raisins, this and that from their own bot cuisine and thin cookies that were chocolate covered stick shapes.
They moved on to the meat aisle where Ratchet got all manner of sausage, sliced this and that along with cheese, pickles and other garnish-type things for a platter. After slapping Ironhide's servo several times, he picked up a summer sausage, peeled the wrapper a bit then stuck it into his pie hole.
Ironhide blinked with surprise then smiled around it. Taking a bite, he held it up to read the label. "Thanks, Old Mech. My favorite," he said. "I, IRONHIDE LOVE GERMAN SAUSAGE!"
"You, Ironhide will get my ped up your aft if you don't behave, *ORION*!" he said with his fog horn voice level.
Customers in all directions paused what they were doing to look.
Ratchet blanched. "I told you to use your inside voice, Ironhide!" he said like a scolding old granny. Then he swished onward leaving Ironhide with the cart and a half eaten sausage in his servo.
He pointed at Ratchet as he chewed swiftly. "He has the big mouth, not me."
Some elders staring at him frowned.
He booked it after Ratchet who was snickering in the bun aisle. Slowing to a halt, he frowned at Ratchet. "Slagger. By the way, you can't come down this row without me. This needs a connoisseur of the well turned bun."
"Is that so?" Ratchet asked was he weighed flaky versus regular buns.
"Get the flaky. It goes with turkey. Now the regular bun is nice but requires the right entree. I do like a nice crescent roll. What are you bringing for an entree?"
"Me?"
They glared at each other, then Ironhide grinned. "You're cute when you do that."
"Do what?" Ratchet asked with a grin.
"Bow to my will," Ironhide said as he began to toss all manner of orbs of deliciousness into the cart.
"Fragger. Stop that. I'm getting crescent rolls-"
"Orbs of the Crescent Moon," Ironhide said as he 'pondered' the seriousness of such a choice. "Good one."
Ratchet grinned. "Then these clover leaf ones where you pull each part off-"
"Ah, nice. I call them Insecticon orbs."
"What for?"
"Because you pull them apart, sort of like you do when you get an Insecticon in your servos … off come the arms and legs," Ironhide said as he leaned on the cart with a grin.
"You're one twisted fragger," Ratchet said.
"I AM IRONHIDE! I AM TWISTED!"
The elders peered around a corner, then the two booked it. As they motored down the aisle, they threw into their cart all manner of bread and bun, then careened around the corner to disappear.
The two elders grinned. "What a pair. Let's see what they do next. Their ada and atars must have them optic trained."
"I think so," the other said. "Nothing like a well pointed frown to bring a big mech to their knees. It works on all my grandchildren."
"Mine, too," the other snickered as they pushed their cart up the aisle in hot pursuit.
Ratchet walked to the holiday food aisle, picked up a cooked turkey roast or two, then platters of 'deviled eggs', cookies and a 'Yule log'. "That's the slagging neatest looking thing, Ironhide. No sampling."
"Don't take it. Leave it at home and we can eat it that night after everyone goes to bed."
Ratchet looked up at him, a big smirking version of Orion some fine orn. "You would sink that low?"
"I wouldn't be alone," Ironhide replied.
"No, you wouldn't," Ratchet said with a grin as he tossed another log in. "One for you, one for me. Something makes me think we're both going to be purging holly leaves if we do."
Ironhide laughed then turned to see the elders standing behind them. They had slightly disapproving expressions on their faces. He smiled a weak smile. "Can I help you get something, Abba?" he asked. He turned to the display then picked up a Yule log. "This is supposed to be good."
One of the elders walked up and took it. "Thank you, sonny."
Ironhide nodded respectfully as his prong shriveled. "Uh, enjoy Thanksgiving, Abbas. See ya." With that, he steered around Ratchet leaving him to stand before the two with a pie in each hand.
He stared at them, then Ironhide who was gone from sight. Putting down the pies, he sidled slightly away. "I have to get him. He's on day release from Processor Health and I'm his … uh, his keeper." He flashed after Ironhide as the two watched.
Then they laughed loudly. They also kept the Yule log.
-0-Outside walking away
"You are a sad sack," Ratchet said as he slipped his arm into Ironhide's. "What a sad little puddle you are."
"They reminded me of my great aunts. Ada's aunties on my amma's side somehow. They lived together and they could drop a charging Dinobot with a single glance." Ironhide grinned. "I liked them and they liked me. They used to hassle the family over me. 'Really, Alor, you need to let him have his helm. How will a little mech grow up to know himself otherwise?' It was hilarious. To me, anyway."
"Which aunties?" Ratchet asked as he opened the genealogical chart file he kept for Ironhide's family.
"Well, there was Amma Tytow and Amma Bootsie."
"Really?" Ratchet asked with delight.
"No, but I called them that. Amma Tyl-R and Amma B-C," Ironhide said. "Let me see … Uncle Steiner is missing and he was Ada's uncle. I think he's Auntie Lissie's brother. Then Tyler and B-C were the sisters of their … of their ..." He thought a moment. "Frag all of it. They were Auntie Tytow and Amma Bootsie."
"You had your glitch then, right?" Ratchet asked with delight.
"I did and I was a champion ditherer."
"Cute one, too, I bet," Ratchet said as they disappeared into the afternoon pedestrian traffic.
-0-Ops Center
He stared at his data pad. The usual food would be served, drinks would be supplied, the decorations would be a bit different and the usual brilliant glory would be achieved. He snickered then glanced around. No one was looking so he continued. All of the Christmas cheer he could order into being would be there.
It paid to plan ahead.
Thanksgiving would be wonderful and easy. He would bring a turkey and a few sides. His candy was already made. He had made something called bark. It was filled with 'nuts', 'raisins' and a light mint flavor. It was also painted with edible paint to have swirls of color and design. It was almost too beautiful to eat but Optimus had sneaked one into the office with a cuppa. Prowl had grinned as he watched him glance around, then take one. If he ever knew that the snacks he 'sneaked out' were left there for him purposefully he wouldn't probably be surprised.
He was the Matrix bearer after all.
He would be surprised.
-0-Home
"Okay, slagger. Film. The movies are going to be on the community channel now. There are just too many for the party," Ratchet said as he dumped three boxes of bot Rice Crispies into his biggest bowl. He grinned. "This is going to be epic."
"What are you making?" Ironhide said as he sat in his chair with his camera filming Ratchet, something that was sure to be hilarious.
"I'm making a unique confection, Ironhide, that has never been made before. You will eat them and exclaim brilliant notations of greatness. That's an order." He grinned at Ironhide as he began to melt copious amounts of chocolate into a double boiler Alor insisted a 'good cook' would have. He took it off, then whipped in 'milk' and 'vanilla'. Whipping away, he then set it aside. "It has to cool off so I can thicken it."
"I see," Ironhide said with a grin. … whether I'll eat it is another thing .../
/… frag you for whatever you're thinking right now, slagger .../ Ratchet gave him a dazzling smile. He stood behind the table wearing an apron that had all the kids' little faces on it in living color. "Now I will whip air into it and it will become much, much thicker. Air is the key to a thick ganache."
WHIPPA-WHIPPA-WHIP!
WHIP!WHIP!WHIP!
(Pause to take a deep drag on beer)
WHIPPA-WHIPPA-WHIP!
"There. Now I, Ratchet of the Miracle Servos will pour it onto the cereal," he said as he dumped it in and scraped the bowl. When it was clean, he put it in the sink and began to stir the mix. It was hard going. "Slag. This stuff is like concrete."
Ironhide grinned and snickered inside. This was hilarious.
Taking prepared cookie sheets and little bowls sitting on them fully sprayed with no stick stuff, he reached into the bowl and began to make a nice sized ball. When it was smooth and round, Ratchet sat the ball on a bowl. Then he made eleven more. They sat in their bowls in the sheet like little brown round things.
Ratchet grinned, then washed his servos. "THERE! BWAHAHA! I, RATCHET OF IACON HAVE SLAIN THE CONTEST!"
"Rice crispy chocolate balls?" Ironhide asked.
"With nuts and dried fruit," Ratchet replied. "But I'm not done yet. They have to get solid." He picked up a sheet and slid it into the freezer, then the other as well. When that was accomplished he put the dishes in the dishwasher, cleaned the counter, then walked to his chair to sit with his beer.
Ironhide turned the camera to Ratchet. "Give us a breakdown of your breakdown, slagger. What's the inside scoop? Did you see what I did there?"
Ratchet snickered as he sipped his beer. Glancing at the camera, he smiled brilliantly. "I did. Well, that is the foundation of the winning candy entrant. I, Ratchet of the Miracle Servos, I, Ratchet whose genius knows no bounds, I, Ratchet-"
"SLAG IT, OLD MECH! TELL ME YOUR PLAN!" Ironhide said with a chuckle.
Ratchet snickered. "Watch what I do, not what I say," he said as he stood up and walked to the fridge.
Ironhide followed him and lingered on his aft as Ratchet opened it, checked the candy, then pulled them both out. He placed them on the counter. Touching them to test their hardness, he grinned.
Pulling up a box of candy bars, he began to shed them of their wrappers. Piling them in stacks of different kinds, he glanced at Ironhide. "The piece de resistance," he said.
"What are you going to do? And toss me one of those or three," Ironhide said.
"Frag you, Ironhide. These are the make all and break all of my vision," Ratchet said. When they were all shucked, he took one, poked the candy ball with a knife, then slid the candy bar into the piercing. He began to do the same with all of them, matching them with placements so they all looked less insane and more 'planned'.
When they were all done Ratchet smiled at Ironhide. "VOILE! GENIUS! I will take your applause now."
Twelve bowls with big chocolate balls sitting in bowls quilled out the wazoo with candy bars sat on the table. Taking a spray can out of a box, Ratchet shook it then sprayed the candy. It began to shine prettily. "There. The winner."
Ironhide stared at them, then Ratchet. "What do you call that besides first place?"
Ratchet snickered, then grinned. "Why, these are called porcupines."
Both of them laughed a long time.
-0-TBC 11-25-18 edited 11-25-18
dither: to sputter or not be able to speak what you want. It can also mean goofing around and not doing what you meant to do or should do.
ditherer: the speaker who dithers. :D