Longhorn Rodeo
Longhorn Rodeo
Red Alert scanned the crowd, taking a tally of how many occupants were filling the stands and cross-referencing this with the information that the Fire Marshals office had given him concerning maximum occupancy. It was his job as the representative of the local Fire Marshals office, to make sure that all regulations were followed to the tee. And his human captain had emphasized 'to the tee'.
I am going to be so covered in dust by the end of this shift; I'll have to pass a security check to get back into the Ark! He thought sarcastically. It wasn't really the dust kicked up by the immense crowd that bothered him, it was the dust kicked up by the livestock kept in the pens. For that dust was mixed with manure, creating a cloud that not only clogged up his intakes – but smelled horribly as well. Guess I'll have to spend some of my hard-earned pay at the car wash! He silently grumbled.
Ok, the stands were now packed and that anthem they always played at the beginning of these things began. His audios picked up the sound of a stampede; but it was just all the cowboys on their horses galloping round the arena behind the one carrying the flag.
Dampening his intakes, he tried his best to shut off the flow of the dust storm that those cowboys were kicking up. It didn't work, and the Autobot found himself coughing and sputtering while he gasped for oxygen. How these blasted humans thought this was FUN – he had no idea!
"Hey Red Alert, why don't you position yourself on the far side? I'll take over here," his human partner offered.
Thankful that at least SOMEONE cared a little about his filtration system, Red Alert eagerly went over to the far side of the arena. He was now upwind of the dust storm, but unfortunately, right next to the stinking cattle pens. Sighing, he didn't know which was worst – stench or dust?
As the rodeo went on, Red Alert began to consider all cowboys as being ranting raving idiots without a lick of sense! What human, or Mech for that matter, would willingly climb on top of a creature ten times their own weight? Who absolutely did NOT want them on top of it! The sheer stupidity of it all, made him roll his optics.
After calling for the second ambulance to come and pick up another bull rider who'd been smashed into the dust under his 'mount's' enraged cloven hooves; Red Alert was completely convinced that all of these guys needed to be admitted for psychiatric evaluations. He considered mentioning this to his Fire Marshal partner as soon as it was over.
Then a flash in the distance caught his optics. There was a pop-up thunderstorm in the area. Remembering that his orders were to stop the rodeo if the thunderstorm came within ten miles of the facility, he quickly calculated the distance. It was twenty miles away.
Sighing sadly, since he'd really like to cancel this whole exercise in human stupidity, he turned his optics back to the action.
They were now doing something called steer wrestling. To his optics, this event looked even more ridiculous than the bull riding. These nut cases were jumping off horses at thirty MPH, grabbing the horns of these big steers, and trying to twist the big creature to the ground. He tried to picture Bumblebee jumping out of Prime's window and trying to do this to Sludge; this vision caused the Mech to fall into a quiet chuckle. Granted, Autobots were much more intelligent than these cowboys – so it'd never happen anyways.
Suddenly, the entire rodeo lit up and he was knocked to the ground by the sonic boom of a thunderclap. His first thought was that the Decepticons had attacked, so he struggled to pull out his weapon. But as his sensors reset, he realized that a stray bolt of lightning had hit in the parking lot!
The crowd panicked, flooding out of the stands like a tidal wave. Horses whinnied in fear. Many of the horses, whom were tethered to trailers, broke their halters and stampeded toward him. Most of the 'catch horses' were tied to the livestock panels. These horses also freaked, many of them dragging the panels as they reared and tried to break loose. This in turn, caused the cattle to panic as their enclosures moved; hitting them while the individual panels began to break loose.
A true stampede of horses and cattle was headed straight towards the shocked Mech!
Having absolutely no clue about what to do, he dove to the side, figuring that the panicked livestock would just go around him. They didn't! Several horses jumped right over him, leading a charge of bulls. These weren't nearly as agile as the horses. Several rammed the Mech, others tried to leap, but ended up climbing over him. Then a few more horses tried to jump him, but these were still tied to panels which they were dragging.
The panels got hung on the Mech, so with panicked horses rearing and hitting him with their metal-covered hooves on one side – and the panels banging against him on his other side. The Mech tried to get up.
"Don't move! You'll panic them worse! Don't move!" Several cowboys yelled at him. They climbed on top of him with their pocket knives out, desperately trying to cut the lead ropes in half. A few others went to his other side, grabbing hold of the trapped horses and trying to calm them down.
As they were cut loose, cowboys jumped on those few remaining mounts and went galloping after the rest of the stampeding livestock.
"Transform Red Alert, ya gotta help them round them up!" his human partner yelled as he ran up to the totally confused Mech.
Trying to detangle himself from the twisted panels, Red Alert grumbled; "But THEY know what to do! I don't!"
"Just copy them. You've got to circle around and herd the livestock back this way!"
Transforming, Red Alert went after the disappearing group of cowboys and runaway livestock.
Later… Back at the Ark
"Dang it Red Alert! What in Vector Sigma were you thinking?" Ratchet griped, rapping the Mech on the helm with a wrench while he surveyed his damage.
Red Alert shrugged, "I told them that I had no clue, but they ordered me to help. So what was I supposed to do? Say no?"
The medic grumbled some more. Almost every panel on the Mech's vehicle mode was damaged. With horse shoe shaped dents everywhere. And what the horses didn't damage, the long horns had! "Now you need all new windows, emergency lights, and I haven't even started figuring on your body damage!" He hit Red Alert on the head again, just a little harder.
"Ouch, quit that! Keep it up; I'll need a new helm too!" Red Alert griped.
Ratchet went over to his computer consol, getting the estimates on the parts he'd need. The medic still mumbling something about stupidity under his breath.
Red Alert felt a hand on his shoulder, looking up; he relaxed as he met his bond mate's optics. Surely, Inferno would have some sympathy for him!
Inferno looked him over, and then stared him right in the optics. "You really shouldn't go and try to be a cowboy at your very first rodeo!"
Red Alert glared at the engine, giving him his best 'eat slag and die' look.
Chuckling, Inferno casually tossed him something. Catching the box, Red Alert stared at its contents in confusion.
"It was supposed to be a Valentine's Day gift, but I guess it's a Get Well Soon." Inferno chuckled as he left the repair bay.
Staring down at the shipping box filled with flowers, the Security Officer had absolutely no clue as to what to think about it all.
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Note: Since the 'votes' were evenly divided – I had my kids pull straws.. For the next chapter we have the choice of: Wheeljack, Ratchet or Blaster. Taking votes now!
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