The Diego Diaries: BASKETBALL! (dd8 359)

=0=At the arena

It was like watching a pot boiling over as the little slaggers turned on the Watch mechs in the stands and/or fell off, was pushed over or leaped out drunk as frag to fall 70 feet to the ground below. Some were caught but a lot of them fell denting and breaking things when they did. A Cybertronian could take a lot of abuse but a fall of that distance for the micros among them was a daunting thing to walk away from.

Springer and Drift were in the stands with Bezel, Lon and a couple of youngsters who were trainees. They were being overrun by fearlessly fearless drunken mini- and micro mini-cons and it wasn't pretty. As strength and size advantaged as they were, the big mechs were at the mercy of the numbers who turned on them because Marlis punched Springer and broke her servo.

Marlis who was a library assistant in the Main Public Library in Autobot City was here with her boyfriend, a nice mini-con mech with a low tolerance for liquor. He was a graduate student in computer science and they 'had plans'. Right now, hers was to go to the hospital and he to jail.

Springer and Drift staggered down the steps loaded down with little mechs and the odd femme beating on them, leaned over the railing to spot the mechs below holding boxes, then began to pick them off their bodies like ticks. Taking good aim, they let them go as the mechs below hovered to catch them. Into the boxes they fell landing on others already there. The yelling and cursing from the containers was colorful.

Staring down with satisfaction, Springer felt a rapping on his shin. Looking downward toward the floor, he saw a tiny antique mech beating on him with his cane. He frowned slightly, then reached down to gently pick the tiny mech up. Bringing him closer to his face, Springer noted the fury on the tiny mech's antique face. "What are you doing here, Appa? You could get hurt."

"YOU TOSSED MY GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GREAT-GREAT GRANDSON OVER THE SIDE!"

Springer looked over the side, then at the little mech. "Oh." Then he felt a rapping on his ped. Looking down once more, he noted a tiny, itty bitty, very old school appearing as in the times of Unicron antique granny femme bot with the most exquisite calligraphy itched on her simple yet elegant paint scheme ala Auntie Lissie's generation. This was a femme that had seen the elephant and wasn't afraid of NOTHING, NOWHERE, NO HOW. He reached down to gently, carefully pick her up and bring her to his face for closer inspection.

That was when she rapped him hard on the nose assemblies with her cane.

=0=Standing in the box having an off line conversation with Ratchet

:You should see this shit show:

:I have it on the screen, Prowler. I hope that Springer doesn't lose another servo. Its getting embarrassing. I had to stock up on his size and CNA enabling just in case:

:Where do you keep them if I may ask?: Prowl said with a grin.

:You may and up my aft if you really want to know: Ratchet said with a chuckle as he worked on a mini-con who flew into the ceiling and feel 200 feet into the arms of Swag.

Bless Swag, one and all. He saved a life for sure.

Prowl grinned broadly. :Sounds exciting:

:It is. You still up for a knees up?:

:Sure. You've been reading low brow things again:

:Knees up? Tits up? I love the human words for getting slag faced and crawling around in a fog: Ratchet replied. :How many seconds left before the Comets chalk up their first in the path to the winner's circle?:

:About 55 seconds. We're ahead 30 to 10. The twins will just have to get over it: Prowl grinned. The Former Missus Optimus Prime was covered in mini-cons once more. It was a beautiful sight to see.

=0=Up there

Drift dropped more over the side, then turned with a grim expression on several dozen more. They were giving him hell, then broke to run for the exits. Some of them were caught but the mass was so large and powerful in their unity in pushing everyone back that most of them were free to make it to the corridor that led downward to the outside of the arena.

Pushing through the cops who grabbed as many as they could, about 66 or so mini-cons ran for the stairs and elevators nearby. By the time that Springer and Drift safely made it through a mob of adults of the little slaggers, parents, nanas and papas, drunk uncles and aunties who were deft with throwing things at the tall fraggers messing up their children, the renegades had made it to the street. 66 or so of them were hot on the town, slag faced and ready for trouble.

It was going to be a hot time in the old town tonight with a drunk ass mini-con congregation looking for more beer and a fight with a tall fragger.

=0=Finally

They walked out with the last box of screaming drunkards, the security of the arena, taking bows and mugging for the cameras as they did. They disappeared, the refs restarted the game and the mayhem continued. Mechs and the odd femme on both teams bounced out of bounds in the fisticuffs during the last minute of the game. It was for naught for Kaon though it was fun seeing Prime buried in defensive players blocking a shot on goal for the goals he made in the final agonizing seconds.

He made them anyway.

The siren sounded, Crater 35 and Kaon 10.

Prowl crowed with glee.

The family agreed that it was a better game without Ratchet in the box.

The kids would love playing with the duck costume after Appa Ratchet welded a bottom to it so they

could sail it like a boat at the swimming pool.

Ratchet was nuts.

Prowl had fed 23,847 options and possible plays to Prime unknowing that all of them were in a file in the back of Prime's processor gathering dust. He would never tell Prowl.

Prowl would never know. Prowl would have 142,957 more plays for the next game and it would only grow bigger with each passing event.

Prime would have to purge his files by mid season.

All around them Comet fans went nuts as the teams grumped and/or exulted their way to the locker rooms. When they disappeared the crowds began to thin including a couple hundred humans making their way out through a special elevator in the corridor nearby. They waved and left right away.

Prowl watched them go, then glanced at the others who were gathering up to leave. "Thank you for watching the kids. We will be home when we can."

"If we aren't arrested first," Ravel said with a grin. "You never know with Sonny and that lot of mini-con kids … they got away or the post game show said."

=0=The Post Game Show

"BWAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAAA!" -Jazz, Blaster and sportscasters on two worlds.

"Just so those watching can know, that lot of slagging mini-cons got away, about 50 or 60 of them. I suspect that Magistrate's court is going to be swinging tomorrow," Revet said as he checked a bulletin from Emergency Services.

"You're a min-con, Revet," Jazz said.

"So are you," Revet replied slightly hotly.

"Yeah. MINI-CONS FOREVER!" Jazz said with a smile.

Revet smirked slightly. "Yeah. I suppose so."

=0=Leaving to chase the shortest gang of desperadoes known to man

Springer and Drift left arena security in charge, then hurried out to mount up. The mentor kids were going to be taken to the Medical Center where their families would meet them. All of them wanted to stay but were mollified that they could come to the Magistrate's Court for the show the next morning. They would with notes and cameras. It would be an education and a half for all of them and none of them would be uncertain any further about their future careers in this line of work because of it.

The patrol moved out after seeing the kids off, heading through the throngs as they sought information on the slaggers. As they did the Squad was gathering nearby waiting for Ratchet to join them.

"This is going to be so much fun. We need to do this," Edict said as Lucien walked off with Borealis and the baby. Bron-E would be going with his ada and the Squad. She was a Squadette, or so Ratchet facetiously called her, one of the only femmes in the group besides Joon and Docker.

"Where do you want to go first?" Bron-E asked as more of the squad joined them. "Where do you think we need to start, Docker?"

"How about Club Cybertron?" Docker replied.

Everyone agreed that would be a good thing until Prowl showed up with Ratchet.

"We think starting in Club Cybertron would be fun," Docker said with a big smile.

"That is a den of iniquity," Prowl sniffed. He considered the possibilities, then grinned. "Good choice."

"Maybe you can do some constituent work when we go there, Amma," Ratchet said to Docker as they walked onward toward the Metro nearby.

She would.

=0=Locker rooms-Kaon

They sat in grim silence as the kids helped them with all the usual stuff.

"You were my heroes," Sunny said as he handed a drink bottle to Sideswipe.

Sideswipe paused the bottle before his mouth. "And you're mine, Sunny."

=0=Locker rooms-Crater

Smirks and back slaps were had by all.

=0=Shortly later

It would be a less grim group they would meet up with outside when the crowd was mostly gone. They would head for the Metro to go back to The City and the party planned at the apartment of Ratchet and Ironhide. It would be a crazy ride on the Metro with fans leaving the Crater-Kaon game and fans arriving for the Vos-Polyhex header.

=0=Club Cybertron

They walked in through the big double doors which stood open to the night. The bar was hopping and music was blaring. They threaded through the crowd toward a booth in the back where they squeezed in and made their orders. Bar food and beer. Sitting back, everyone started at Ratchet.

He gave them the best most dazzling smile he had. "What?"

"Where is the rest of your costume, Loon?" Prowl asked as wings, dessert finger food and beer arrived.

"I left it at the arena. I figured I'd have to run really fast and that's hard to do in duck feet," Ratchet replied.

Prowl smirked. "Consider paybacks deferred."

"Then I better get some candid photos before I pass out in an alley somewhere," Ratchet said.

The crowd around them was mostly youngsters and family types who came to watch the game together in a pub with family and friends. This wasn't a hook up spot, mostly. That was back on The Strip in Retriades, a place they would return to at some point. Right now, they relaxed, ate and drank while watching the funny folk. By the time they would hit the door to go on the Party Bus aka Metro to Terra the night's possibilities would be thus:

1. A party with all manner of mechs would be happening at a big hotel room in the Central Labor Hall.

2. Children would be fed and stashed in berth rooms here and there.

3. A bunch of mechs would play poker, eat a lot of food and get loaded. It would be a very boozy party with mechs decorating every square foot of the floor by early morning.

4. A marauding band of mini-cons would be looking for liquor and fights all over the colony as the 66 slaggers divided up into five different sized gangs.

5. A number of mechs would be sitting in the jailhouse, those that weren't broken. Among them would be a surprising number of very antique and very miffed elders.

6. Springer and Drift would be busy.

=0=Later that night

A mech working on the floors of the arena noted something big and orange sitting in a corner. He walked to it, inspected it, then took it to his locker where he stored it to take home after shift. They were two very big duck feet that were deep enough to serve as planters for his hobby, growing Cybertronian reeds in his apartment for 'sale' to the local stores. He was a former 'farmer' who grew plants for vendors and park lands on Cybertron back in the orn.

Working on a clean up crew with his two sons for a business they owned, it freed him to do his passion during the orn. The duck feet would be sweet he thought as he worked with his youngest son cleaning up spilled food containers in the corridors of the Retriades Sports Arena. Outside, the party continued. Inside, he mused on the possibilities as the night slowly wore on.

Ratchet would never know the end of the story.

=0=TBC 02-04-2022