Snow.
The weatherman had said that there would not be any snow falling in the Oregon state that year. Since a lot of the Autobots considered snow to be related to this 'Christmas', there were some who were quite disappointed. Then there were the ones who were not – for example, a particular white and red ambulance.
"Well I'm glad there's no snow here this year – I can still remember what happened the year before – and in fact every time we went to any snow-scape!"
"Aw, y' ol' Scrooge!" Jazz flicked a hand in the direction of Ratchet and grinned smugly at getting a reference in from some of the Christmas films he had been watching.
"So you don't remember what happened last year? Well then, let me give you a reminder!" Ratchet flung himself into a dramatic re-enactment of a famous conversation that caused a few 'bots to gather near. "Hound, Trailbreaker, what are you doing on that sheet of ice?" The medic said dryly to the ceiling. "It's dangerous – come off of it." His voice slid into a rather sarcastic version of Hound's voice. "Oh, don't be silly Ratchet! This – thing's – solid!" Ratchet accented his last three words with heavy stomps onto the floor. He then changed into his impression of Trailbreaker. "Yeah; it won't glub!" He paused for dramatic effect, making sure to take in Hound and Trailbreaker in particular, smirking at their own misfortune at the sidelines of Ratchet's outburst. " 'Glub?' I said to myself. 'What is this glub? Is it some new Earth colloquialism that they've picked up? Is it some street slang?' Of course, when I asked for the meaning of 'glub' I didn't get a reply: quite rudely, they were both too busy sinking through freezing water to the bottom of the lake."
"So I take it ya don't like snow, then?" Jazz asked. "Or ice, or winter fer that matter?" Ratchet presented Jazz with one of his best sneers and stormed back to the med-bay.
"Don' worry fellas – ah've got yer snow right here!" Inferno smiled mischievously and raised his nozzle hand. Before anyone could say anything, he sprayed the floor with thick, white fire-retardant foam. It looked just like snow.
"Hey! Wham! Pow! Looks like we can –zow! – have some fun with this!" Warpath held up a thumbs-up.
"Well, what are y-"
"Inferno!" The familiar voice of the security director cut him off mid-sentence. "What is this? Was there a fire? It must be cleaned up immediately – it's a security risk!" Inferno turned towards his companion.
"Relax, Red ol' buddy!" He shrugged and held his arms out in a friendly gesture. "We're only havin' some fun!" He took a step forward, slipping on his own foam. His right leg shot forward and he would have done the splits had his left knee not heavily impacted with the flooring. The loud smack caused everyone to go quiet with sympathy. "Red," The fire engine cried hoarsely.
"What is it, Inferno?" Red Alert was genuinely concerned. He leaned in closer.
"Ah think ah need a medic."
Ratchet worked on Inferno in complete quiet; the fire engine had gone stiff with fear for the CMO's consternation. Ratchet himself was being quite testy and although he was gentle with his repairs, his movements were abrupt and violent.
"Inferno, do you know what caused your pain?"
"Fallin' over?"
"No, dislodged gears and broken pistons in your left leg-to-calf joint, caused by falling over, which in turn was caused by fake snow, better known as fire retardant foam. But no, don't worry about cleaning it up: it was considered such a hazard to my mental health – oh, and the physical health of many an Autobot – that Prowl corralled the bystanders into cleaning up your mess." Inferno's face-plate heated with guilt. To take his mind away from the procedure, he looked around the room and saw a small collection of the human's cards on his desk. Most of the designs he had seen before, but one in particular caught his eye: a human in white clothing, with large swan-like wings and a circle of light behind its head. In one hand it held a staff – the intertwined snakes, a symbol of healing. In the other, he held a ball of light.
"What's that card wi' the winged human on it s'pposed ta mean?" Ratchet gave the card in question a brief glance.
"Carly's card: Raphael, angel of healing, consecration and truth. May he grant you his mercy, because I'm certainly not in the mood to do so." With those words, he sealed up Inferno's leg. "Right, you're free from my clutches. Get going." Inferno stood up and did as he was told.
"Thanks Ratchet."
"Ah, wait one minute," Ratchet intoned. "I just want to check: what have you learned from this experience, Inferno?" The fire engine put some space between himself and Ratchet, expecting that the ambulance would not like his answer.
"That ah shouldn't use foam as fake snow," he replied cautiously. Ratchet gave an approving nod. Inferno sidestepped closer to the door. "Ah should use powder instead!"
End.