The Diego Diaries: Stuff and (S)more stuff (dd8 559)

=0=Fight (at the) Club

"How long do you plan to live?"

The kid stared at Springer without batting an optical ridge. "You don't scare me, old mech."

Springer stared at the kid wondering about how much his game face must have slipped after an answer from a big mouthed kid like that because he scared himself every time he looked into a mirror, secondly, he decided he'd have to change that sentence somehow and finally he wondered how far he could punt this punk into space. "Go to jail, slagger, and see ya in court." He glanced at Sandstorm. "Bag and tag them."

Sandstorm who was smirking gripped the kid and the one next to him to haul them nearly bodily out of the club. Lon and Bezel took the other one.

Together.

"Your game face is slipping, Springer," Hercy commented. "Or maybe you need time to put it back together. Been a few rough orns."

Springer stared down at the little run staring up at him with a blase expression. "Thanks, Dad. I'll take that under advisement." He stalked over to the beat cops taking the record, then huffed out to the horses. It would be then that grins and chuckles would be had.

By everyone but him and a smirking Drift.

They mounted up, Drift and Springer to watch the wind up.

:You okay or are you going to pout a while over some dumb kid?: Drift asked with a slight grin.

Springer smoldered at him a moment, then watched the police wagon shut its doors on them. :I don't pout. I merely … whatever it is I do:

:You aren't old:

Springer glanced at Drift who grinned.

:You aren't:

[smolder]

:Really. You aren't:

Springer grinned in spite of himself, then they rode off to follow the miscreants by cutting cross country to meet them at the Iacon Courthouse for booking. The others would follow in turn.

=0=There

They reached the big parking lot outside of Central Booking, then dismounted. Walking to the door they watched from the steps as the doors opened and the slaggers were walked out. They sullened into the building past Drift and Springer to pause before the booking Sergeant's big tall desk. Tonight, it was Tolo again.

"So what's this? I was hoping for a baker's dozen, Chief," Tolo said to Springer who he detected was fragged off. A fragged off Springer was always fun.

"The night is young," Springer replied with malice aforethought. You could have lit a match on his arm.

Drift watched the kids line up on the booking line before Tolo as he readied to take information. "Number one, name and details as called for," he said with a bored tone. "Name, address, place of employment."

"Why place of employment?" the kid asked angrily.

Tolo who was leaning on his right elbow as he two-finger typed with his left hand, something he could do very fast with high accuracy glanced up with a bored expression. "Because I'm going to apply for your job tomorrow given you'll be in here. Answer."

The kid stared angrily at Tolo. "Finnial of Cheris 7. 46-25B Tower 6, Tulius and 14th Avenue Southwest, City 2, District 13. My employment is none of your business."

"If you don't tell me how can I get you fired?" Tolo asked calmly as he peered over the desk to stare at the three lit kids standing in front of his desk.

"Frag you," the kid replied.

Drift stared at the floor to hide his grin.

Springer stared at Tolo without hiding his. Frag this kid.

"Employment?" Tolo asked again.

The kid blazed at him, then answered. "Nuclear physicist."

Tolo stared at him, then typed, "professional comedian." He glanced at the cops. "Charges?"

"Fighting, damage to property, making a public nuisance, being stupid without the required licenses, sitting sideways up my aft," Springer said. "More to be made up later."

"Your aft. Who'd want to even look at yours?" the kid said to Springer.

Drift looked behind Springer, then grinned. "I would."

Huge waves of rude laughter greeted that.

Tolo grinned himself. "Okay. Anything else?" he asked Drift.

Drift shrugged. "He needs his opticals checked."

"Why? He's as old as my appa," the kid said.

"Your appa must be a stud," Springer said with a grin. Somehow there was less offense at the kid for him than amusement.

Huge laughter greeted that, then Tolo looked at the second kid. "Details. Entertain me, slagger."

The kid grinned at the other two. They were slamming drunk, the three of them and their fear and inhibitions which were marginal at best were missing now. "My name is Knock-Knock."

Everyone stared at him unaware that was a time honored and hairy old joke pattern among the humans,

Tolo stared at him, then said, "Knock-Knock?"

The kid stared at him defiantly with a slight grin on his drunk little face.

"That's all?" Tolo asked as he mulled the stupidest name he had ever heard before.

"No. My home place is Who's There."

They stared at him, each other, then him.

"Who's there?" Tolo asked unwittedly.

"Frag you."

They stared at him, a kid so drunk he sort of blew the joke but because he was laughing uproariously at his own genius it was sort of hilariously funny.

Tolo sat back. "Guess what my name is, slagger."

The kid stared at him with a cocky grin, then smirked. "What, old slagger?"

Tolo leaned over the desk a bit. "Pull My Finger."

It would be bedlam amongst the punters for a few moments.

=0=Date Night at Nana and Papa's Apartment

"Well, look at you," Delphi said with a smile. "You can walk so well."

Tell of Polyhex-Kaon of Cybertron stared upward at his great, great, great, great grandparents with a GIANT baby smile on his adorable little face. He was holding onto the coffee table with both hands as they fed him bits of cookies and Delphi took dozens of images, some of which he woulds end to Drift and Springer in a moment. He smiled, laughed loudly with a big fat chuckle, then patted his hands on whatever he could reach.

"What a doll face," Delphi said.

"He's such a cute baby. What is the word on his last report? I've tried to keep up but its been hard to, Delph," Hardie said as he fed another bit of dried fruit to the baby.

"He's doing champion work. He has a nice vocabulary, uses it a lot more and hears at a normal pace. The hard part is associating sound and words with meaning," Delphi said.

"Well, that's all good then," Hardie said as he picked the baby up to sit him on his arm.

Delphi sat down next to him and they would play word and card games with the baby, making it a bit of peeky-boo as they did. It was wonderful.

=0=There

"So what's the real name or do we turn you upside down and read the writing on your debris chute?" a jailer asked with a big grin. "Either way I'm entertained."

He stared at the jailer, then Tolo. "My name is Legion."

Tolo wrote that. "Address?"

He grinned. "The Seventh Circle of Hell."

The three kids laughed madly which ended when the jailers picked that kid up, turned him over and with an arm or leg apiece, four of them carried him upside down into the drunk tank inside.

"HEY! WHERE ARE YOU TAKING IZZY!?"

"I-z-z-y double dumb ass Jones," Tolo input to the eternal laughter of the masses. He fixed his gimlet optics upon the last one. "Tell me your name or there's a waste basket waiting for you."

The kid looked at him, then grinned. "I am Spiletto of Stanix. My great grandma is the Emperor." He held up his servo on wobbly legs. "You may kiss my ring, minion, or my aft whichever you prefer." Then he passed out on the floor.

Everyone stared at him, then Tolo.

He stared down at the kid, then began to type. "Spiletto. Stanix. Thinks he's … king of Romania. Refer … to Jarro in the morning … there." He looked up. "Dump him into the drunk tank, Mucho. Then lock them in."

Mucho aka Muncho picked the kid up and carried him out. Everyone glanced at Springer as he did.

"What?" Springer asked feeling suddenly inadequate.

It was that kind of decaorn.

"Time to ride."

Everyone looked down at Hercy, then followed him out.

Springer watched them go, then frowned. "That's my job. I was supposed to say that."

"You snooze, you lose," Tolo said with a smirk. "We're running low on youngling smart afts, old ladies having a fist fight with their sisters-in-law and big mechs. Go find me some so my end of the decaorn report looks better."

Springer stared at him, then shook his helm. "Get your own Mac trucks. I'm sticking to these slaggers for a while. Better comedy," he said as he began to trudge out of the jail with a grinning Drift following along behind. So would the laughter of the masses.

=0=Down the road later

"Amma and Appa just texted me with pictures. I sent them to you. Tell was a champ and now he's going to bed. He played, ate cookies, aced his little word and picture cards and was his usual great self," Drift said to Springer as they waited at the light to cross the highway.

Springer grinned. "Then you're sayng he takes after me?"

"Didn't I just say that?" Drift asked as they began to cross on the light.

They would banter and ride all night bagging slaggers here and there for Tolo's count. None of them would be Mac trucks.

Fortunately.

=0=At home

Ratchet ran around the living room chasing Spot. He had somehow gotten hold of a cube of 'butter' from the table and was heading for the berth room, any, to eat it in peace which meant laying in the middle of a bedspread and licking it until it was gone. When he was done he would manage to press it down through the covers and into the rest of the berth. "GIVE ME THAT

It would be that kind of night.

=0=Elsewhere at the United Nations On-World International Garrison, Mars

"Where do you think we're going tomorrow night?" a soldier asked another as they shined their boots before bed time.

"Everything, I hope," another soldiers said. "I really like those guys. They're hilarious."

They all agreed. It would go like that for a while.

=0=Elsewhere

They put the newspaper to the 'presses' as the journalistic staff of the Autobot City Daily News got ready to go. Styre who had a column had just finished it and proofed it with his editor. He was going out with Stealth to dinner in their hometown, meeting Venture and Miler there. It'd been a while and they were going to catch up.

Walking out, he went down to the Metro here in downtown Autobot City from his office in the Autobot City Daily News Center in the tower overlooking the Junction, the one just across the street from the Professor Hospital. He had an office now on the tenth floor and between going to University to study literature and that, Styre was writing a column full time about interesting things, politics and the like.

He walked to the Metro to disappear downward. As he did Ultra Magnus was coming back to City Hall to finish up after a conference with Prime about migrations. He would go to dinner with Arcee and the twins with Blue. All in all, things were four by four in his world. He disappeared into the building to go to his office and get ready to go home for the night.

Tomorrow was another orn.

=0=TBC 10-7-2022

ESL

blase: (blah-zay) bland, bored/boring, not interesting

malice aforethought: (mal-iss uh-4-thot) a fancy way of saying that you're either really mad or mad ahead of time of need for beginning made. If you do something bad to someone because you want to, its malice (anger, ill will) aforethought (thought up ahead of time, pre-planned) Lawyers like it a lot.