Thanks to anyone who took the time to review/favorite/follow/click on this crap.

Chapter 2: Minibot Punting

29 June 1987

To say Ratchet and Prowl were annoyed was an understatement.

Normally, Ratchet was an easy-going mech whose only fault was his bedside manner, which, he himself admitted, left something to be desired. However, when Prime went to his medbay, he was downright furious. His shouts were heard all over the Ark. Quite an impressive feat, really.

"WHAT IDIOT DECIDED YOU WOULD BE A PRIME?! THAT HAD TO BE DUMBEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN YOU DO!" A pause. A few of the minibots brave (or stupid) enough to stand outside pressed their audios against the door, trying to hear Prime's muffled response. They all jumped back as Ratchet roared, "I DON'T CARE IF I WASN'T ACTUALLY THERE!" And so on and so forth. It ended with Prime being literally kicked out, landing on his behind, and, even with the mask, looking utterly terrified.

Prowl, despite not shouting like a lunatic, was pretty much the same. By the time his lecture ended, Prime was sunk so low in his seat, he was hanging halfway off. He left Prowl's office with his shoulders slumped, head down, and metaphorical tail tucked between his legs. Prowl, optics glinting and doorwings raised high, slid the door shut behind him. Prime was not seen for the rest of the day. There was a rumor he was hiding under his desk in his office, curled up in a fetal position.

(Judging from the laughter coming from the Security Room, that rumor was true.)

Their entertainment done for the day, most of the 'Bots returned to duty, be it monitor or patrol. A few had some down time, such as the Lambo Hellions, and they quickly became bored. A new game was invented, then, and not everyone was happy.

|-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-|

"HELP ME!" A red blur screamed as it went flying overhead. It landed forty paces away from where Silverbolt stood, moaning in pain and swearing in between. He looked back to where Cliffjumper had come from, not at all surprised at what he saw.

The Lambos, four of the Dinobots, and a few of the bigger Autobots were holding the minibots hostage. Bumblebee kept trying to crawl away, but Sludge would just drag him back by the ankle. Silverbolt swore he saw lines in the ground from Bee digging his fingers in, attempting to find some purchase.

"What are you guys doing?" As if I have to ask... Sideswipe gave him a cheeky smile, dragging a kicking and screaming Huffer over.

"We got tired of watching boring human sports, so we made up our own. It's called 'Mini Punt.' Get it? Like mini golf but-"

"Yeah, Sides. I get it."

"Well. Anyway. Wanna play?" Huffer gave Silverbolt a "Help me, fragger!" look, one hand trying to free the other from Sides's strong grip. Silverbolt, desperately trying not to laugh, shook his head, turning around.

"No, thanks. I like my head where it is." He walked off in the other direction as the minis screamed for him to tell Prowl or someone. It was only when he turned the corner did he lean against the wall and break out in hysterical laughter.

After five minutes of getting strange looks, he wandered off to Prowl's office, still giggling like a child. Ten minutes after that, the Ark shook with Prowl's very angry roar of "SIDESWIPE!" Silverbolt winced, rubbing his audios and thanking whatever god was out there he wasn't on the receiving end of the tactician's fury.

Shame. That actually kind of looked like fun...

Rule #2 - The game "Mini Punt" is not allowed. All participants WILL give an apology to each minibot, and report to the brig for a minimum of two weeks. Someone please tell the Dinobots, excluding Swoop. I don't think they can read.