The Diego Diaries: Cloudy with a chance of prison (dd7 394)
=0=A courtroom
Ironhide sat at the defendant table behind which his beloved Appa Raptor was orating like Cicero. He wanted the floor to swallow him up. Appa was the funniest and most daring, loving and creative grandpa a kid could have. Now he was trying to 'save' the 'infant' from a 'life of crime and imprisonment'.
What Ironhide didn't know was that the Metro Authority Security Department had forwarded the security tapes from the car and platform to Forensics at the Watch Tower in Metrotitan. Reviewing them for LULZ, Springer and Drift had seen that Ironhide was a victim, not a perp. They'd called Prowl who'd called Hard Drive. Between consultations and a call to the desk sargent at the Jail, it was determined that 1.) Ironhide would stay in jail anyway, 2.) the charges were formally dropped, 3.) Ironhide would stay in jail anyway, 4,) they would all gaslight his aft off in court because 4a.) he was a kid and a youngling wise acre, 4b.) he needed a few pegs taken down in his rather nice swagger and last and most importantly, 5.) he'd stolen Appa Hardie's favorite car and nearly totaled it with his hoodlum friends. Such impertinence needed tending to.
So they were here, the entire 'village' and they were watching a spectacle that wasn't even necessary with the legal beagles in on the joke as well. Apparently, army humor was much prized in the legal community. All they had to do was kick back and watch a Master at Work™.
So they did, judge, bailiff, court clerk and lawyers, all.
It was instructive just how much effort soldiers put into practical joking and the level of sophistication, especially by elders who really should know better but don't give a frag. A good joke is a good joke.
"I would like to call witnesses to the incident. I want to know all the bitter details in order to prove that the infant here is just a wet behind the ears kid who steals cars and smarts off to his ada, not the desperado the charging papers say he is." Raptor turned to the crowd and spread his arms wide. "Am I right?"
The entire group stood and applauded including Ultra Magnus and a mesmerized entranced youngling Orion Pax.
Ravel joined them but with a shadow of disapproval on his face anyway. He loved Ironhide.
Everyone sat again as Ironhide stared at them with glowering disapproval.
Silver glanced at Parlow who grinned, then nodded. Silver faked consultation, then glanced toward the back of the room. "Commander Springer and Commander Drift, if you will. Please come up and unburden yourself." Silver sat back with a grin. Being in on this kind of joke was almost as good as a herd of mini-cons.
Springer and Drift glanced at each other and with a conversation off line to get their story straight, they walked up, were sworn in and turned to Raptor who was beaming at them like he was their grandpa, which he was.
"Tell us who you are and what you do," Raptor asked.
Ironhide glanced at him. "We know that."
"Forgive him, Your Worship. He knows not what he babbles. Gentlemen?" Raptor asked.
"Well, I'm Commander Springer, God of the Hunt," Springer began.
Snickers rounded the room.
He gazed at everyone, then at Raptor with a smirk on his face. "I'm from Polyhex, lived over my family's hardware store and I lead the Wreckers. I think my left aft cheek is older than the kid there but I'm told that he's my dear old dad anyway." He glanced at Drift who grinned.
"I'm Commander Drift, I was born in a card board box in the dump at Kaon," he said to muffled guffaws everywhere but for Blackstone, Coln, Silver and Parlow who were absolutely fascinated at the gall and bullshit that was flowing in the room. Oh, and Ravel. He was appalled at Drift's origin story and never laughed even when they played 'stick it to the high tones with a poverty story'.
That game.
"I used to play with old tin cans. I'd fill them with dirt and use them for toys," he said to actual laughter. He grinned as Springer beamed at him like he'd made him himself. "I got into trouble but was saved by the love of a good man." He looked at Springer, then grinned. "I'll never be able to repay old Bob."
HUGE laughter and a frown from Springer.
"I would like the gory details. You first, Springer. Leave nothing out," Raptor said as he beamed at his grandsons, the slaggers.
Both had seen the films so Springer began and he spared no one. "Well, two gangs came together to kick each other's afts. They were drunk and in a confined space. A real prescription for trouble, that one." He stared at Ironhide when he said it.
"I know."
Springer glanced at Drift. "You do?"
Drift nodded. "It was crowded in the cardboard box."
Springer stared at the floor a moment to get back control before he could continue. The card board box wasn't that far from the real thing Drift had grown up in, a shipping container at the edge of the Kaon City-State Municipal Dump. It was distant enough in the past to be howlingly funny when he'd talk about it but in truth, it would never be funny for Springer.
Until now.
He glanced up to continue. "Ironhide was sitting by the window and when the hordes came together he was crushed against the wall. Then a bunch of big 'uns came in with crowbars and began to beat Taps on his helm."
"Did you see him fighting?" Raptor asked.
"He did. He swung here and there but it was ineffective," Springer said.
"It wasn't. I was crushed. I can fight," Ironhide said like a pugnacious teenaged bulldog.
"Given that you're what … ten years old?" Springer speculated. "I think you did a good job for a little kid. Sorta." He glanced at Drift. "What's your impression of his fighting and hand-to-hand?" He glanced at Ratchet with a smirk.
Ratchet shot him his best megawatt smile.
"I wouldn't ask him to open the pickle jar if I were hungry," Drift said. To rave reviews. He looked at Ironhide who was fuming. "Give it a few vorns. You have potential. Eventually."
Springer guffawed, then composed himself. "He was fighting even when it was evident that the thumping he got had made him dingy. He had to be cuffed to be extracted safely. He was swinging on anything that moved. They tossed him in the meat wagon and he was taken to jail."
Raptor nodded, then glanced at Drift. "Can you tell us more?"
Drift considered that and the many suggestions he was getting from Springer and half the room. "I would say that he was in the back so it was hard to say what happened in terms of was he an aggressor or not. I supposed if you took in account his youth and his inexperience in situations such as this … you know … grown up stuff … you might want to cut him some slack. However, given that he's an avowed car thief, hanging might be too good for him."
Ironhide blinked, then half rose in his chair before Appa Raptor eased him back down with a massive servo.
Raptor snickered. "You see criminal tendencies in this one, too?"
"We both do," Springer said with a smile. "Right?"
Drift nodded with his trademark half grin. "Its evident."
"I'll show you what's evident," Ironhide said rising before being pressed back down again.
"Thank you for your expert testimony, your square jawed handsomeness and your loyalty to your family. I have no more questions," Raptor said.
"LOYALTY?" Ironhide said. "Those two slaggers … SUPPOSEDLY MY OWN SONS … just threw me under the bus."
"No, actually, Atar. We drove the bus over you. If you can't do the time, don't do the crime. Wasn't that what you taught us when we were sparklings?" Springer asked as they walked back to sit with the boys including half the crew they rode with, Bezel and Lon part of them.
"YOU WERE ADOPTED FULL GROWN, YOU SLAGGERS! I DIDN'T BORN YA!" Ironhide said as he fumed in his chair.
Parlow glanced at Coln-2. "Collie, did you have any questions?"
Coln glanced at the two who slowed to see if he had. "Uh … were you really raised in a card board box, Drift?"
HUGE laughter as he grinned, then nodded. It was a metal crate but who was picky?
Coln looked at Ironhide with a grave expression. "Drift has become a mech of quality and service to The People. Yet … you stole cars. My, my."
Ironhide stared at Coln with surprise. "One car. My appa's car. I … I just took it for a spin."
"They all say that, Ironhide," Coln concluded to an off line standing ovation.
Parlow finished laughing, then glanced at Raptor. "Any other witnesses?"
"Yes," Raptor said. "I would like to call Ratchet up."
"Why?" Ironhide asked.
"Because he can answer questions about what was what that night," Raptor said.
Ironhide nearly knocked the table over as he stood. "No he doesn't. He doesn't have to. I plead guilty. Life in front of the firing squad. I'll go gladly."
"Sit down, infant," Raptor said as Ratchet walked up and was sworn in. He grinned at Ratchet who dazzled him back with a smile. "Ratchet, how long have you and the infant been a bond."
"Since Unicron was a spark in The One's milk man's optics," Ratchet said to a roar of scandalized disapproval from Ravel.
"And what sort of mech is the infant here?" Raptor asked.
"He's the finest kind," Ratchet said. "He helps do the dishes, takes care of the infants, rubs my peds and snores. It doesn't get better than that."
Huge laughter and agreement met that comment.
"What was Ironhide doing out and about that night when he has what … 57 children at home," Raptor asked.
"We have about 11 at home. The others either live in bonds elsewhere, are shacked up in unholy sin or can't find a partner with both servos. I have a number of daughters that are dazzling and available. We even got one a mech out of the prison so no one can say we don't do our duty by our many and sundry children."
All of their daughters who were there stood and clapped, then sat down.
Ratchet dazzled them with a smile.
"What about Ironhide here? What was he doing out?" Raptor persisted as Ironhide seemed to shrink in size in real time.
Ratchet stared at him, the infant version of his good old mech, then dazzled him. "Why, he was getting some pie. He told me that I could have a piece of his pie when he came back."
Uproarious laughter.
"His pie," Raptor asked.
Ratchet nodded. "I like pie." He dazzled everyone with a smile. "Love me some pie."
Raptor laughed. "Was there anything else?"
Ratchet considered the hopeful desperate expression on Ironhide's cute face. "Nope."
Ironhide nearly deflated like a balloon.
Ratchet smiled again. "Did I tell you I like pie?"
HUGE laughter.
"You're dismissed," Raptor said, "unless you have questions?"
Coln shook his helm. "I'd like some pie, though, for some reason."
Everyone there laughed and agreed.
Even Ravel.
Ratchet stepped down, curtsied, then pranced back to his seat striking poses along the way.
Raptor watched him go, then grinned. "You're really too much at ease in a courtroom. You might want to rethink your life choices."
"You mean give up jail? What would Prowl and I do on Squad night out without it?"
"Less time, Loon," Prowl offered with a slight grin.
"Incarceration becomes you," Ratchet said as he sat.
"I rather enjoyed it myself," Kestrel said as the other squaddies weighed in as well.
It was unanimous.
Orion glanced at his ada with astonishment. "You were in jail?"
=0=TBC 10-01-2020 10-24-2020
Notes have been days late coming so I'll reply tomorrow. FANCY! HUGS!
Taps: A mournful tune played by a single trumpet at funerals or when flags are lowered in the US Army.
Pugnacious: Someone who's tough and belligerent. A bulldog is often said to have a pugnacious face. To call someone a pug is to shorten the word but it usually means a thug.