Boing.
Boing.
Boing.
It was a peculiar sight one would find if they glanced out from the Ark's entrance and see the Lambo twins, named specifically in regard to their Lamborghini alt-modes, standing a little way off.
Cheery red Sideswipe and surly yellow Sunstreaker.
The sight in question was Sideswipe bouncing.
Not on his own, of course. He had the help of a large metal stick of sorts with handles at the top and footrests near the bottom, where it appeared spring-like, causing it to bounce when Sideswipe pushed downwards on it.
Sunstreaker stood a few feet away, arms crossed and counting each bounce in a tone drier than sand.
"995."
"996."
"997."
An exuberant laugh escaped the bouncing Sideswipe. "Just a few more Sunny, and a new record of pogo sticking will be made."
Somewhere inside Sunstreaker, an invisible string snapped, and the bored cerulean of his optics darkened into an angry blue. With one swift movement of his leg, both Sideswipe and Pogo Stick tumbled to the ground, the former landing on his aft with a yelp of surprise.
It wouldn't be a surprise if that fall left a dent.
Sideswipe sat where he landed, stiff with shock, before looking up at his brother in betrayal.
"What the heck? What'd you do that for?" He demanded. "I almost had it."
Sunstreaker merely folded his arms again and glared down at Sideswipe with annoyance.
As for his reasoning as to why he sabotaged his brother's record-making, all he had to say was:
"Don't call me Sunny."