Hook, you can't cure everything and Perceptor, stop what you're doing...

[yami_samuraiflo]

Murphy's Law of EMT: You can't cure stupid.
Characters: Constructicons.
Rating: PG
Summary: Hook is ranting...

Hook was pacing, hands crossed behind his back. The Constructicon’s surgeon wasn’t happy and quite frankly, none of his gestalt brothers could really blame him.

 

“Of course, Starscream had to be cheeky once again wjile Megatron is in one of his worst moods. And of course, Megatron had to set his fragging fusion cannon at the highest level. Sure, Starscream needed to be reminded his place but who had to repair that sorry excuse of a mech? Us! And especially me! Do you think it’s fair?”

 

The other Constructicons shook their head. It was an habit whenever Hook began a rant on anything or anyone. They just nodded or said ‘yes’ when needed and continued working on whatever they wanted. Hook wasn’t paying attention to them anyway. He never did.

 

“Then the more stupid of his wing mates had to try to push Dead End down the stairs, only to be discovered by the other Stunticons and be beaten to scrap by them in retribution. Fragger was lucky to be alive, let me tell you! And then, those two stupid cassettes had to play that silly trick with the ‘bubble gum’ on Astrotrain, hadn’t they? Do they know how hard it is to remove that... stuff from delicate circuits? Do they even care?

 

“That’s it! I supported those maniacs for far too long! Next thing we’ll be working on will be a cure for stupidity!”

 

Bonecrusher snickered. Long Haul groaned. Scavenger looked at Scrapper. “Should we tell him it’s impossible?”

 

The Constructicons’ leader dismissed his fellow Decepticons’ concerns. “Let him rant. With some luck, he will forget everything about this the moment we’re called to form Devastator. Besides, it will only be the fourth time in two orns he’s done this.”

 

“And if he doesn’t stop this time?” asked Long Haul, who was looking at the surgeon with boredom. As fun as it was sometimes, watching Hook for too long was just boring.

 

“Than be ready to assist him,” answered Scrapper.

 

“But it’s impossible to cure...” started to whine Scavenger once more.

 

Scrapper shrugged, watching the surgeon as he began to mumbled incoherently. “Who cares as long as he’s occupied and off our backs?”

Murphy's Law of Technology: The most ominous phrase in science: "_Uh_-oh..."
Characters: Perceptor, Ironhide, Jazz
Rating: PG
Summary: Some words just fill you with dread...

None of them knew exactly why they chose to pass in front of the lab. If someone asked them later, they would say they just hadn't paid attention to where they were going because they were too enthralled in their conversation.

 

But once they looked around and realized exactly where they were, they heard the worst words to be uttered at that moment. “Uh-oh...”

 

The two mechs looked at each others, suddenly very fearful. Especially when they heard: “I’m sure it shouldn’t be that color... Now, now; what could possibly be wrong?”

 

Ironhide and Jazz looked at each other again before starting to run until they reached the other end of the hallway.

 

“You know, at first, I thought it was our dear engineer but... Unless I’m mistaken, that wasn’t Wheeljack,” said quietly Jazz, still looking at the lab’s open door.

 

“No, it was Perceptor,” answered Ironhide with a short nod. “Thank Primus, Wheeljack isn’t here today. Which doesn’t mean we shouldn’t let everyone know they have to leave the Ark for their own safety.”

 

Jazz frowned. “Don’t you think you’re going a bit too far here? That can’t be that dangerous. I mean, it’s Perceptor. Next to Wheeljack, he’s harmless.”

 

Ironhide looked at him in disbelief. “Jazz, think for a moment; how many time have you heard Perceptor say ‘uh-oh’? Personally, I never did, and I don’t intend to be around to know exactly why he said ‘uh-oh’. But if you want to look, then go. It’s your funeral.”

 

The saboteur smiled nervously. “On second thought, I think I’m going to stick with you...”

 

“Good choice,” said Ironhide, nodding.

 

“Should we call Inferno and Ratchet right now to stop the fire and repair the injured?”

 

“You do that. Me, I’ll tell Red Alert to start evacuating the Ark in the next ten minutes,” answered the red mech.