The Diego Diaries: Zoom! (dd7 307)
=0=Iacon Municipal Stadium, Iacon, the city-state of Iacon, Cybertron, historic capital of the Autobots
The game was brutal.
Each side had gotten over the newness of the event and that a Prime was playing for one of the teams and had thrown themselves into the game wholeheartedly. Mechs were tossed out of bounds, balls were stolen with fists and kicks, mechs fought each other like they were in a bar on the south side and the crowd everywhere ate it up. By the time it was nearly over the two teams were tied, 25-25. There was enough time to run a play and the Comets were that close to setting up their killer mow-them-down-and-score play™.
That one.
The ball was tossed in from the outside line nearest to Nova Cronum's goal. Prime caught it, then turned to pass it off to Chromia. Before he could, the Brigadiers grabbed his arms from both sides and began to run toward his own goal with him backward and in between.
Consider this … two defensive linemen from Nova Cronum the size of space shuttles gripping Prime by the arms to drag him backward. Prime was no shrinking violet, had zillions of years of combat experience, could lift 500,000 tons by himself and was zealous about his gaming. Yet, the two freight trains with blazing optics gripped his aft and pulled him toward his own goal, throwing him off his peds. There was no footing to recover.
Their grips were like vices and they broke a rule. They magnetized themselves to his arms. Prime was held fast but all was not lost. Prime broke a rule as well. He magnetized the ball to his servos. Staggering in their grasp, unable to get footing, Prime began to speed up as they ran for Ironhide as well as Maelstrom and Jetta who were the defensive backs. Both sides got set for a collision that would be one for the ages.
However, all was not lost …
For Nova Cronum.
The Comets that had formed up toward the Nova Cronum goal was disadvantaged to say the least now that two Brigadiers had commandeered their Fearless Leader™ and were heading toward the Comet goal with perhaps the express desire to stuff Prime ball and all into his own goal. It was also instructive that the entire Nova Cronum team which had 'casually' set themselves nearer to the Comet goal had pivoted with the two giants to help them by racing ahead to clear a path. That meant the entire Brigadier team was bearing down on Jetta, Maelstrom and Ironhide.
Prime flailed as he was held fast and dragged ever faster toward a rapidly approaching goal. He'd seen the entire Brigadier team flash past him heading toward his own goal and he could hear collisions as the two sides came together. The flash of Jetta flying past spreadeagled and screaming would never leave him as he dug in his heels to slow them down. It was a good but fruitless strategy as they ran even faster into the whirlpool around the goal.
Ironhide set for disaster as he watched two mechs plow into Jetta. He flew over their shoulders through the air, his arms and legs spread wide as he flailed before hitting the ground and taking out half the benches of the Brigadier team.
Optimus also saw three mechs run into Maelstrom who had set himself for it. To Prime's satisfaction, all of them bounced off. Then the second wave hit and Maelstrom went down under a pile of arms, legs and fists.
Closer and closer Prime got as the two mechs holding him bowed their necks and ran faster. Down field the Comets came, sputtering along in a futile race against time and opportunity. As they did a huge mech plowed into Ironhide and the two rolled and rolled out of the game and into a wall. Everyone sitting in the stands at that point looked down and unloaded their beer onto the two dazed mech's helms.
Prime dug in but it only made the two mechs pull harder. He passed the scene of Ironhide and a monster truck drowning in beer by maddened mini-cons and stifled the urge to laugh. Then he passed a goal post. His own. He was so startled that he went limp and the three of them accelerated even faster. As his fevered processor calculated where he was (near the end of the field of play), what he could do about it (bupkis) and the sorry outcome that came up at the end of his calculations … that's when all three of them hit the wall together.
Hard.
Extremely hard.
Terrifyingly hard.
=0=Around the arena
Crater's Comets were zooming in just in time to see devastation everywhere and their boss hit the wall with two behemoths that couldn't in the space they had at the speed they were going put on the brakes in time. They passed Ironhide and a big mech standing by the wall jumping up as they tried to grab inebriated mini-cons who were mocking them just out of reach.
They passed Jetta lying on the ground amid upturned benches and guffawing Brigadiers just before he was swarmed by thirty kids from tunnels Zones Three, Four and Five.
They skated to a halt with the Brigadiers to stare at Prime and the two huge mechs. They were still planted against the wall, two facing it and Prime facing outward toward them. It was as if time had stood still. Then the three of the fell forward/backward to face/aft plant on the ground.
It was silent for a moment as everyone stared at the First Disciple of Primus™ flattened on the ground. That was broken by the sound of twenty pairs of peds from Zone One and Two hoofing it toward the three with their med-i-kits in servo. Hoofing it right behind them was Springer while Drift jumped up to run along the wall to wail on the mini-cons who had pulled a kegger from somewhere and were going to dump it on Ironhide and the Brigadier with him while they stood side-by-side staring at the pile up in the end zone in amazement.
Drift would be heroic but he wouldn't reach them in time before both the beer and the keg landed on the two mechs.
Elsewhere …
Tagg held Kes's servo as the two watched with tense dread at the pile up in the end zone. They were huge mechs, both of them and very strong. Yet they were gentle giants and had raised a good son. They had seen him fight the gangs as a child and often limp home happily after a hard game. It was never fun to see their only son and reason for living hurt but it was part of the 'game' Now, they waited as their son moved slowly, then rolled over. At that moment, about twenty kids swarmed all three of the mechs there including their boy.
It would be oddly amusing to them later how much better they felt when the Autobot Auxiliary and Youth Medical Teams reached him. It would also be cause for a chuckle.
Later.
Ratchet stood next to the cart full of humans with a dazzling smile on his face. They were on camera so he showed why among the Cybertronians he was a remarkable beauty. The crowd watched him on the jumbotron and howled. He laughed as he held onto Prowl who had gripped the railing with both servos. He was almost comically enraged as he struggled to go over the edge and land on the ground below.
They were captured on the jumbotron, Ratchet smiling with a dazzler and Prowl struggling against him with the darkest most enraged expression possible on his handsome face.
The humans in the cart were caught between the show down below and the one beside them. They watched Ratchet yank Prowl back, punch him in the gut, then twinkle toe to the steps nearby, skippity-doo-dah-ed down them, then jumped on the railing. With a flourish, he then leaped off in a perfect swan dive, landed in his peds, then race with lights and sirens for the scene of the crack up. It was caught on the jumbotron and brought the house down.
Ironhide and a monster truck watched with no small satisfaction (and smell) as Drift in the churning howling audience above them dropped mini-cons into a box being held by Jolt down below. He stood beside Ironhide moving this way and that to catch their little drunk afts as they fell. Mechs and femmes landed in the box, then jumped up to catch the rim to climb out. They couldn't but it was entertaining.
When Drift got the ones he needed, he jumped down, then grinned at Ironhide. "Nice flight."
"Frag you," Ironhide said with a snicker. He glanced at the Brigadier. "My son, Drift."
The mech nodded. "Nice to meet ya. Ruin."
They shook hands the warrior way, then turned to the field.
"Frag." All three of them.
=0=Prime
The kids stood over him scanning his aft and everywhere else. Two other groups were getting the 'skinny' on the other two slowly reviving beside Optimus.
Springer was standing close by watching the show with a smirk on his face as Ratchet blazed in. The sirens and lights went off as Ratchet smiled at him. "I see you made your usual demure entrance."
"That's me. Demure," Ratchet replied. Both laughed madly. Ratchet scanned the three with a discreet scanner, then grinned. "Dents, boo-boos but nothing serious. Don't tell the kids."
"They're the best part of this. We have a tie. There's no set rule in the book for ties other than each side can request one but both have to agree," Springer said.
Ratchet nodded. "It won't do either side to take a tie but it would mean perhaps losing given that Prime has his bell rung again. You can't get a concussion after you have a concussion like he had. This town hates him, I'm thinking. He got blowed up here and now he got run over. Bad Nova Cronum."
They both snickered as Ironhide joined them. "How come I didn't get my own kids? Jetta has about thirty and Prime has the rest."
"Maybe its because you smell bad," Ratchet said.
Ironhide smirked. "Frag you."
The refs arrived, the kids consulted, they came to champion conclusions … Prime had odd readings … and all was well. They were saluted back to their tunnels by the crowd like they were the reason for the game. They blushed as they walked proudly back to their places. Then the crowd got hushed.
Discussion was underway by all the pertinent figures about the tie as Jetta limped back to them as well. Maelstrom was still fist fighting one of his assailants under the deeply admiring gaze of His Girl™.
=0=At the Primal Box
Prowl fumed as everyone watched the confab below.
Hot Rod.
Smokey.
Smokey.
Hot Rod.
Everyone else watched with amusement and excitement as they waited for the decision from the refs. When it came, the place became silent.
A ref walked to the mid field line. He began. "We would like to state that most of the players involved in the pile up are okay."
HUGE ROAR!
"The game is a tie."
HUGER ROAR AND A LOT OF BITCHING!
"The two teams have elected to allow the score to stan-"
"WHAT THE FRAG!?" -the crowd
The booing, laughing, applause and cursing that arose from the crowd was mind boggling.
The entire coliseum rose to their peds and began to weigh in with their various points of view and everything that they could grab to throw at the field. Beer bottles, various sports gear and a few platters of party food landed on the refs, the Brigadiers because they were in the line of fire and everyone else they could bash. Team songs, stomping, howling and laughter rose upward as several mini-con Seekers jumped off the railing to transform mid air.
They were drunk on their afts and three of them managed to transform and buzz forward before hitting the ground. Two others weren't fast enough and landed on the sidelines like two sacks of flour dropped from orbit.
Springer watched the three buzz forward to strafe the playing field as they flew toward the far end goal posts of Nova Cronum.
Drift glanced at the despair on Springer's face as the three made it to the goal, tried to fly around it and crashed into the wall. It was like bug splatter.
They fell to the ground and as they did fifty pounding pairs of peds launched forward from various tunnels to do good for The People. Children with med-i-kits would make it there before Springer, Drift and Ratchet. It would be a highlight not just in the post game reel but in the ESPN Christmas Blooper reel as well.
Nova Cronum, 25. Crater Comets, 25.
Mini-con Seekers, 3 out of 5.
TBC 6-20-2020
ESL:
To 'get the skinny' is to find out the facts and truth on something. Old World War II expression I'm thinking. :D:D:D