The Diego Diaries: Footbawl! 4 (403)
-0-On the field
The micro mini-cons were a study in contrast. Most of them were shorter than the average short human being. Between four feet and five and a half feet in height, they were astonishingly small in comparison to the bots on the field. Those bots were on the whole bigger than the average Cybertronian yet even so the micro cons were still miniscule side-by-side with them. They were designed to do things where height was a challenge. They were very adept at tasks that required movement in small spaces. Many was the gun barrel for a battleship that got its first polish at the servos of a micro mini-con.
The little slaggers.
They turned and ran in all directions, some of them between the peds of the bots standing everywhere around them. Springer who turned in a circle as they squirted away in helter skelter cursed and reached for them. He missed the two he was seeking as the mechs with him joined in. "HELP!" Springer cursed at Kup and the ballplayers.
They grinned. "GET THEM YOURSELF! YOU'RE THE COPS!" -players in unison
Kup put his stogie in his mouth then turned heading for a couple who were dancing around the edge of things making faces and waggling their afts. Maxi who was INTENSELY affronted began to chase one of her own. The camera lovingly followed her.
"Look at that," Blaster said. "Is that Maxi, Revet?"
Revet turned and nodded. "That's her. She runs the policing administration for the colony for the Day and Night Watch. She's Springer's right servo femme. Last time there was a brawl she came to help. She's a great little femme who has no idea how small she really is."
"Look at her go!" Jazz said as the gutsy little femme transformed into a light green moped with darker green accents and shiny chrome features. She buzzed after her designated micro mini-con and ran up his backside dropping him like a rock. Slamming on the brakes, transforming into a determined little doer of good deeds, she walked to him and with a running commentary of maternalistic abuse, she began to drag him as best she could to the sidelines.
She got a standing ovation and serious screen time on the jumbotron.
Drift ran like the wind and scooped up a tiny bot, small even for his kind and turned on a dime heading for two more. The two mini-cons slammed on the brakes sobering up immediately as the sight of a giant white bot with a giant servo getting ever closer burning off the buzz like nobody's business. Pivoting on a dime and leaving change, they began to run like Megatron was after them.
"STOP, YOU LITTLE FRAGGERS!" Drift called out with a huge guffaw, the mini-con in his servo kicking, screaming and biting him madly. Just as he was close enough to grasp the two running, he skidded and bellowed. Shaking his servo, the mini-con in his hand flew through the air as Drift felt the love of the little fragger's dentition. "FUCK!" he yelled clearly enough for the broadcast because that was the only word big enough for the moment. He sucked on his digit for a second. Turning, his optics narrowing, he lit out after three, count them three little fraggers/fuckers like a heat seeking missile.
Kup who was watching Drift fumble laughed out loud as he stood with a mini-con in each servo. Then he yelled too as the little fraggers bit him within an inch of his life. They flew too landing and running once more, their sobriety a consequence of their desire to live. He turned and headed after them, steam coming out of his audials.
"You know … this might be the best half time show I've ever seen at a ballgame, Blaster," Jazz said as he laughed his way through the commentary. "I saw a video on youtube where a newscaster was bit by a ferret. This reminds me of that. Those little slaggers must have some intense jaw strength."
"No doubt," Blaster said as he watched Hot Rod miss his two.
Prime and Ironhide who were watching with IMMENSE amusement and no little amount of HILARITY themselves put down bets on who would prevail. The only figure of authority on the field who actually put one in custody was the perky moped, Maxi.
"Maxi is a stand up femme," Ironhide said between bellows of laughter.
Prime who was laughing loudly himself nodded. "I think she needs a promotion."
"I agree. The ex-Missus is not doing too good out there," Ironhide said as he watched Springer miss one and get two.
Springer stood holding a mini-con in each servo by a ped. Walking toward him holding a big container, Jolt paused. "Dump them in," he said.
Springer turned and obliged as two mini-cons fell in head first to stand staring upward with the one Maxi bagged. He looked down field and saw her slug another in the kisser dropping him like a rock. "Frag. Maxi is making us look bad. Go get her bot, Jolt."
Jolt turned and hurried off with his box full of cursing mini-cons toward a little femme who was bent over a groggy bot giving him a piece of her mind along with the motherly finger of judgment which she waved in his face. He joined the other three in the box. Four down, eleven to go.
Sideswipe stood on the sidelines with Sunstreaker watching the show. Mini-cons had transformed driving madly here and there, tiny, tiny cars of all manner of tiny design. It was as if Kaon had transformed into a hot wheel match box car and was buzzing around underfoot. It would be adorable if it wasn't so insane. However, being former criminals both teams stood out of the fun to give the policing officers full reign to their wondrous FAIL.
Hot Rod glommed onto a tiny white van and picked it up holding it undercarriage upward. Its tiny wheels spun as the engine revved, then the little bot transformed. "PUT ME DOWN, YOU FREAK!" he yelled. "*I WILL BUST YOU UP*!"
"How, you little fragger? Just try," Hot Rod said as the little bot squirmed trying to sink his chompers into Hot Rod's servo. "HA! YOU CAN'T REACH ME! HA HA!" he said before the little bot emptied his debris tank all over the big bot's servo. "WHAT THE FRAG!?" he yelled before tossing the little van away.
The van landed on his peds, wagged his butt at Roddy, then transformed and drove madly toward the end zone. It would take him a while to get there, the tiny fragger.
Drift passed Hot Rod. "SLAGGER!" that bot yelled as he raced by. Hot Rod turned and chased after him, the two so intent on beating each other to the van they didn't notice that the tiny vehicle slammed on the brakes and turned the other way. They ran past him and were halfway to the goal post when it was clear no one was ahead of them. Skidding to a stop, they turned and headed off chasing the little bot who had transformed to root mode and was dancing on the mid field line mocking both of them.
"HE'S MINE!" -Drift and Hot Rod
Maxi stood over her third little mech, her ped pressing him down into the ground. Kup walked to her and grabbed him, grinning down at the grim little femme who was looking for number four. "You can wreck, little femme."
"THEY ARE GIVING GUFF TO MY BOYS!" she said looking up. Behind her, Leader-1 was bagging his own bot, dragging him toward the box where Jolt stood with a grin receiving contributions as they were delivered. He had ten and five more were due, the little diehards more difficult to catch than anyone could have guessed. She transformed and buzzed off heading for a yellow and orange bot hiding behind a cooler at the Kaon team bench. She would karate chop him and drag him slowly and laboriously toward the Box of Doom with the cheers of both teams carrying her along.
The little white van bot stood watching the two big mechs thundering toward him so he turned and did what any bot would do in that place. He transformed and revved his engine, heading toward the bench as fast as he could go. He was rather fast for a tiny mechanism and by the time he reached the sideline bench, Drift and Hot Rod were going too fast to stop.
Just like he planned.
They crashed into the Kaon team and cartwheeled over the big bots landing in the stands themselves. Nearby watching with loathing, bots leaned over the humans protecting them from flying triple changers and ninjas. They landed on a row of University engineering students who were forming a rugby league after football season was over. They dug out and dropped Drift and Hot Rod over the side like fish guts into a river after the fileting was over.
Laying on the ground listening to the cyber birdies singing, the two looked over at the bench. Sideswipe was sitting on it with a mini-con in each servo, the little bots swearing like sailors. "Tell me when you want them. I can do this all orn."
"Ha, ha," Hot Rod said sitting up slowly. Drift sat up, then stood, a mental check of his systems showing most of his stuff actually still working. He reached down and took the bots holding them by the scruff of their tiny little necks. Walking through the Kaon line, all of them mocking his sorry aft, Drift headed toward the Box of Doom with the orn's catch. Hot Rod thoroughly mocked by the players too followed slowly.
The rugby team held their opinions for The Hourly News.
Springer joined them from the other side as they walked with the slaggers dangling. They had two and he had two. Maxi was dragging the last one nearby. "That little femme needs a beat. She got about five of them herself."
"Don't remind us," Drift said with a chuckle and a limp. "These little buggers nearly killed us. I can't wait to see the replays and hear what Blaster and Jazz have to say."
"I can," Hot Rod said ruefully. He side tracked to grab Maxi's bot by the ped. She followed waggling her digit in the upside down face of the little bot. He had the good grace to be contrite. He was the only one. When they reached the box, the abuse from inside was enormous. Dropping in the last few bots, they lifted the box and began to carry it out. The crowd who was rolling with laughter roared with applause, abuse, suggestions that were anatomically impossible, phone numbers, inquiries about their parentage, a few personal items and a lot of swearing.
It was typical of a Cybertronian sporting event. What Earth thought would be anyone's guess.
-0-EARTH
"What the hell? That was the greatest thing I've ever seen." -ESPN
"That little moped is a lean mean robot grabbing machine." -FOX SPORTS
"I will never look at mopeds with anything less than INTENSE respect ever again." -Daniel Patrick
-0-On the field
The refs stood in the midst of insanity waiting for the vermin to be rounded up. The infestation was drop kicked into the Box of Doom and the game was go again. WHISTLES TWEETED. REFS BLOVIATED. COACHES ARGUED. TAPE WAS CONSULTED. Yes, they had actually forgotten where they were in the play.
Everyone walked back to the mid line and the game began. Vos got the toss. Kaon slammed them into the eleventh dimension and no one got to score. All Kaon had to do was hold them.
"This isn't looking good," Starscream sniveled. He sat holding Pip as the little infant smiled at him patting his chassis. It was the only thing that prevented Starscream from transforming, flying to midfield and blasting Kaon's team to the Pit.
Thundercracker who was a secret fan of the Capital City team back in the orn grinned. Whoever won, there would be lots of comedy. Hopefully when the next season started and there were two leagues and twelve teams due to expansion, one of them would be the Capital City Commodores. Then he would show them how to support a team. In the meantime, he sat enjoying Starscream's hilarious angst. "I know," he said sympathetically. "I know."
It was all he could do not to laugh.
"This is so fucking awesome," Fig Figueroa said as he stood on the platform with everyone else. They had been yelling for Kaon since they didn't really know any of the Vos players and things were looking good. The play was astonishing, the punishing interaction life threatening. When Drift and Hot Rod flew through the air heading their way and the security bots moved to stand between them and certain doom, it added a dimension that the National Football League, the various rugby associations, the World Cup of Soccer and Australian Rules Football couldn't supply.
A slagger could get killed watching the play at one of these things.
It was awesome.
The ball was put in play so Kaon ran here and there throwing it back and forth to run out the clock. It infuriated Vos who ran after them with their claws ready to capture the ball. Half the stadium screamed for them and the other half for Kaon. Many of those included Iacon United supporters who had given up the hope of getting a wild card spot, worked through the five stages of grief from halftime to the mini-con riot and decided to support the probable winner, Kaon.
Loyalty, thy name isn't Iacon United.
The clock nearby was counting down as bots tackled, punched, kicked, slammed, over ran, under ran, danced, stunted, hop, skipped and jumped around the field. The cursing was intense. The fists flew but it was no use. When the siren sounded, the final score was Kaon 4, Vos 2. The Championship of the Martian World Adult Football League would be between Praxus Science and the Kaon Kavaliers.
Ratchet stood staring at the score board, then looked at Prowl who was standing with an enormous look of smug satisfaction on his handsome face. "Fragger. Cheater."
Prowl looked at Ratchet with a smug grin. "Loser."
"Criminal."
"Cry baby."
"Smug cheating douche bag."
Prowl considered that. Then he grinned. "Loser," he said.
Ratchet slapped him on the back of the helm.
The jumbotron showed it.
Teletraan III beamed it.
The Earth saw it.
It was epic.
-0-TBC August 20, 2013 edited 7-4-14