The Diego Diaries: Game Day 3
-0-On the field
They stood staring at each other, big mechs on each side getting ready to slag it out. The refs were discussing some point of something or other and the game was halted a moment. They stood in groups staring at their counterparts, comrades in battle and work most of the time. Now they were the enemy and there would be no holds barred.
Especially in the bottom of the scrum pile.
"That center is going to get my ped up his aft."
"That center is your shift buddy."
"I don't care. He's asking for it. Look at his shifty optics."
"He's your brother."
"I don't care."
"PLAY BALL!"
The lines came back together and the toss was made, the ref jumping back as the centers rose into the air, their digits clawing for the ball. They bumped it and it bounced off their servos falling toward the sideline and the wings who were waiting there. As one, they turned and ran for it, all of them jumping on the wing who grabbed it before it went out of bounds. The wing managed to toss it backward before getting accordianed by the scrum.
It flew up, every optic in two stadiums watching as it glistened in the afternoon sunlight. Up, up, up it went. Down, down, down it came. A back caught it and lit his afterburners.
Metaphorically.
Seekers could do that. But he was a grounder and so it was … *cough* … he ran like a sumbitch.
They followed.
All of them.
The crowd went mad rising and yelling at the top of their vocal capacitors. It rose up into the ether and slipped out into the greater universe.
… several zillion miles away (Cybertron)
Soundwave paused a moment considering a faint scream that he heard wafting through his residence. It sounded like the sounds he had often heard at football games. He shook his helm and shrugged. /... nah …/
… about a hundred million miles away and change (Earth)
"Are you going to put that ipad down and pay attention?"
Cindy Teasdale looked up and grinned. "I got inspired for a fic. I thought it might be nice to get Soundwave's take on the game."
"You're certifiable. Look at that mech run," Lola said as they both turned back to the game.
… about a hundred million miles away and change (Mars)
He ran like a sumbitch.
They chased him, both teams. Smokescreen, himself a piece of work elbowed a back and watched with his peripheral vision that formidable bot spiral out of control into the sidelines. He kept running.
Right into the backside of a big mech.
A very big mech.
The cameras would slow-mo that scene over and over to the zillions of optics and eyeballs that watched from here, there and far away. The size of the mechs before Smokescreen, the force exerted on the back of the mechs as Smokescreen who was the same size ran full force into them, the mechs slammed flying upward off their peds from the impact, Smokey's nose structure flattening out from impact … like that.
He was on top of the world and then the world was on top of him. Smokescreen bounced off the brick wall of obliviously running bots and flew backward slamming into the mech who was running behind him. Bouncing forward off that mech who then cartwheeled off in his own direction, the youngling Autobot staggered and fell face down.
The dance went on without him.
-0-In a nice house
"That was amazing." -Mama Annie
"That was horrendous." -scandalized Mrs. Pastor Bob
"That was AWESOME!" -Bob Junior
"Junior, I don't want you glorifying violence. You know that violence is not the answer." -scandalized and hectoring Mrs. Pastor Bob
"It can be fun. I like roller derby. Did I tell you that, Lavinia?" -Mama Annie to Mrs. Pastor Bob
Grins met that admission. Even Mr. Pastor Bob smiled. Behind his wife's back of course.
-0-Trenton, New Jersey
"Are you alright?"
"I don't know. The future husband is down."
"I know," Lola said shaking her head as she fanned her sister. "He really took it hard. They're scooping him up right now."
Cindy sat up and watched with tears in her eyes. "I like him a lot. He's smexy and fast."
Lola nodded. "He's resilient. He reminds me of that old Ford I had back in high school. Could take a lickin' and keep on tickin'."
"That's a watch," Cindy said sitting up straighter.
"You're right," Lola said grinning. "When they pound out his nose, he's going to be a babe again."
"No doubt," Cindy said with a grin. "Hand me the dip."
They settled in to watch once more.
-0-In a bar in California
"That's about what. Shix time he said frag?" -Man A
"Sheven. Hic. Could be more. Could be less." -Man C
"That's what I like about you, Hubert. You're so fragging decisive." -Man B
"Drink! I heard frag!" -Man A
They did.
-0-In the stands
"I think Smokey's going to need a new face." Sunstreaker grinned. "I used to frag him. We were berth buddies in the orn."
A sharp slap resounded on his helm. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker turned and met the grueling optics of the bond. Bluestreak gave them the stink optic and they both grinned down at him. "Of course, he couldn't hold a candle to you, Babe."
Bluestreak looked at them, his arms folded over his chassis. "Keep talking. Keep digging."
Sunstreaker smirked. "Jealous. You look cute when you're jealous."
"I'm not jealous. What makes you think I didn't frag him myself?" Bluestreak asked with a grin.
Even Sunstreaker blinked to that one.
-0-Prowl
He stood beside Ratchet as the big mech scanned from afar. "Smokey is going to need a rebuild. Won't take long. The plastic surgeon can give him what he needs."
"A slagging?" Prowl asked with a smirk.
"That too," Ratchet said laughing.
The whistle blew and the ball was tossed in. The teams clashed and the ball was run. It made it to a goal and was intercepted. The goalie punted it long and the opposing team got it. Back and forth it went, up and down the field. Bots were bopped. Bots spiraled here and there. Then it happened.
Running like a gazelle with a roman candle up its aft, a big back from Altihex headed for the goal. The team ran interference and the goalie was blocked. The ball went up and hit the rim. It rolled and rolled, the arena becoming as silent as a tomb.
-In the booth
"What the frag? Look at that," Blaster said.
-In California
"FRAG!"
GLUG!
-Trenton, New Jersey
"Look at that."
"I'm looking."
-On the field
It spun and spun. Before the goalie could reach the hoop the ball fell through.
The place erupted.
A huge back did the happy dance.
Polyhex sat shiva.
Altihex blew raspberries.
It was all good.
They walked and limped back to their end of the field and regrouped.
Altihex: "That was awesome. One for the books."
"I did good." -back, preening
"I say so. What will your ada say?"
Glances into stands. Sees ada doing windmills of ecstasy in the stands. Grins. "My old ada would take it in stride. He's nothing if not dignified."
Teammate looking into the stands and seeing hysterical ada of huge back grinned. "That's right. He's not dignified." A pushing match contended and then it ended. Everyone chest bumped, slapped each others aft, spit on the ground and walked to the line to do it all over again.
Hopefully.
-At the other end of things
Polyhex: "This is slag. Its one to zero."
"Well, you can't play football for slag but you can count to one. Good on you."
A pushing match broke out and then ended as swiftly. They glowered at each other and then huddled.
"What the slag do we do now?"
"We ram their tailpipes up their tailpipes."
Pause.
"What else?"
"We kick their afts and take names."
"We know who they are already."
"It's an expression."
"Of what?"
"Uh, how the *slag* would I know?"
"You said it."
"I know. I was just offering a … a suggestion or something."
*cough*
All optics turn to the team captain.
"If you LADIES are through, can we get this organized."
There was a pushing match but it ended swiftly. Then they broke … HUT! YOU SLAGGERS! … then they lined up for the toss. It went way up. The centers did too. They came down together clutching the same ball. They fell over. The teams jumped on them. The scrum began.
"Get off my slagging face!"
"Your ped is mine!" CHOMP!
"OOOWWWW! YOU SLAGGER!" PUNCH!
Grimaces were had. Groping was commenced. The ball was passed out of the heap and a Polyhex mech grabbed it. He was halfway to the goal before the scrum knew the ball was gone. They arose as one, pivoted like debutantes and ran like the wind.
It was as if time slowed down. They seemed to bound along, some rising and the others falling as they ran for the goal and the mech with the ball. The goalie set himself, his arms outspread, his servos ready. The mech with the ball was running straight at him, his optics bleeding white and his thundering peds tearing up the distance to goal.
Behind him, running in a big bewildering mass the entirety of two teams were aiming straight for him too. This was his moment. His ada, atar, bond, their three younglings, a number of friends from the old neighborhood, his shooting buddy on the range, the mech he owed a favor toward, mechs who owed him, his detailer and the guy who made his favorite cookies were there watching.
And screaming.
And beating each other.
The colors of Polyhex faded into the moment as he jumped with the goalie heading his way. They rose together, the ball going up along with both servos of both mechs. They stretched up as high as they could... then they slammed together like two freight trains falling straight down as they did.
The ball on the other hand drilled the hoop.
The place went nuts. The teams stood around their teammates. The two were lying on their backs, their bells soundly rung.
Ratchet scanned them long distance.
Gold Wing ordered more stretchers.
Prime exchanged grins with Ironhide.
Prowl shook his helm.
His genitors howled with blood lust.
Ravel and Tie Down laughed and shook their helms. Iacon would never make such a train wreck. Praxus Science on the other servo …
They called a time out to sweep up the field and then the game began once more. It was tied 1-1. And that didn't include the body count.
TBC
2012 (11)
Short one tonight. Had to vote and clean the house for tomorrow. Work. It never ends. :D