Summary: Pre '07. Prowl strolled purposely into his office, ready to face the bane of his existence. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. Oh, he was ready to make them pay for their actions.
Genre: General
Characters: Prowl, Sunstreaker & Sideswipe.
Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers. Simple as that. Enjoy!
Justice will be served.
By: Life-is-Insanity.
Prowl strolled purposely into his office, ready to face the bane of his very existence.
Those fragging Twins, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. (Why the slag Optimus kept them around, he'd never know.)
The two accused, one a blinding shade of gold and the other a shade of candy red, were both seated on the chairs placed in front of his desk. Prowl duly noted the handcuffs chained to their wrists. A wise move by Ironhide. The Twins had been know to escape Prowls office before he could arrive to dish out their punishments.
Slapping down his data-pad, Prowl stared down at the Twins. "Comfortable?"
"Primus, Prowl," muttered Sunstreaker angrily. "Can we just cut the chit-chat and get straight to the punishment? I have an arm to repaint."
Prowl studied Sunstreakers arm closely and located a small scratch, a few centimetres long, on his upper arm. He was going to repaint his whole arm, just for that?
Well, if there was one thing Sunstreaker was known for, it was his vanity- and his psychopathic nature.
"Okay, then Sunny-" Prowl happily enjoyed a nano-second of watching Sunstreaker growl at his much hated nickname "-I'll get straight to the point."
"Here we go," sighed Sideswipe, looking thoroughly bored. (Prowl was willing to bet his High Grade that the red twin was planning his next prank.)
"You two," said Prowl, studying the data-pad, "destroyed the second floor of the East Wing. May I ask why?"
"Because we were bored…?" Sideswipe answered.
"Because Sideswipes an idiot…?" Sunstreaker replied.
"Don't call me an idiot!"
"Well, you are one! What kind of mech mistypes the time of detonation into a bomb?"
"One that has a golden psychopath whining in his audio-receptors about how his paints not the same shade, that's who!"
"Okay, that is enough!" Prowl thundered, hitting his desk. "You two morons are lucky I don't call Optimus in here! Now, your punishment is as follows. First, you will clean up the slime from your bomb, which includes scrubbing the floor and walls until I can see my reflection in them. Second, you will replaces any tiles and panels that have been destroyed. Third, you will be spending the next two orns in the Brig- shut it, Sunstreaker. I don't wanna hear it!- and finally, you will not be allowed off the ship when we dock at the next planet. Am I understood?"
Sunstreaker looked as though he'd like nothing more than to rip his head off.
"Am I?"
"Yes, Prowl," they muttered.
Satisfaction filled his spark. "Excellent." Prowl said, sitting down. He laced his digits together and studied them over the top. "Ironhide is waiting outside to monitor your punishment. I'll be checking in within the breem. You may go."
He pressed a button on his desk and the handcuffs chaining the Twins to their seats vanished. Both stood up, shot him a look of the deepest loathing and marched from his office.
Oh, sweet justice. What would he do without it?
July 26 2010
This is my attempt at figuring out Prowl. How'd I do?
Review, please!
