Fanfic -- Bath-Time Combaticons
Aug. 3rd, 2007 04:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dunmurderinTitle: Untitled (Bath-Time Combaticons)
Originally Posted: June 3, 2006
Note:Takes place after events in "Exhausted Combaticons"
“Okay Brawl. I found out what the stink was,” Swindle said, yanking an object free from Brawl’s leg treads. “Got jammed up there pretty good.”
“What was it?” Brawl asked, rubbing soap over his head.
“This. ‘Tex! Think fast!” Swindle chucked the decomposing head of a Generistan freedom fighter at Vortex.
“Eww!” Vortex yelled as the head exploded on impact with his hands. “That’s disgusting! What else has he got in there?”
Swindle poked Brawl’s treads with his scrub brush. “Not sure, it’s all kinda goopy now.”
“Oh! I wanna see!” Vortex ran across the refreshing room floor, dropping to his knees by Swindle, who pushed him away.
“Get your own brush and do his other leg!” Swindle snapped. “He’s probably got a whole village over there.”
“You think so?” Vortex hopped up and ran for a scrub brush before returning and attacking Brawl‘s treads with scrubbing vengeance. “Anything I find, I call dibs on!”
“Anything I find, I’ll let you have at a discount,” Swindle countered.
“Just scrub the damn treads already!” Brawl grumbled. “Don’t want to be in here all day!”
“Yes, do hurry,” Blast Off said from where he was luxuriating under a hot water spray. “Anything that ends this idiotic discussion.”
“Suck my exhaust,” Swindle said. “You think I don’t want to take my own bath? I got enough Generistan sand in me to start my own beach!”
“The sooner you settle down, the sooner you’ll be done,” Onslaught said, stretching out under the heat lamps as he dried off.
“They keep interrupting me!” Swindle protested, gesturing with his scrub brush at the others. “It ain’t fair, Ons!”
“Awww! Poor Swindle!” Vortex giggled. “Why don’t you go tell Bruticus all about it?”
“Yes,” Blast Off said. “He’s too young to be sick of your whining already.”
“That’s it!” Swindle threw down his scrub brush and stomped over to a high-pressure rinse hose. “Who wants to be first? Huh?”
“Nobody who wants to go to Monacus,” Onslaught drawled.
Suddenly, all optics were on Onslaught. Swindle lowered the hose, purple optics sparkling.
“Excuse me, but what did you say?” he asked, voice squeaking with excitement.
“Megatron was pleased by our performance in the Generistan oil fields,” Onslaught said. “He spoke to me upon our return to the Nemesis and said that as a reward, we’re being allowed a mission to Monacus. Seems there are some components he needs picked up and, in addition, we’ll be allowed a few days of free time once we successfully complete our task.”
“Monacus.” The others said the word reverently.
“Oh Ons,” Swindle said. “Guys, I’ve heard stories about that place! It is Combaticon Paradise!”
“The announcement isn’t official yet,” Onslaught said. “Megatron wants us to report for a briefing about the mission once we’re cleaned up. The sooner we’re done, the sooner we’ll be getting our clearances to leave.”
“Why didn’t you say so sooner?” Swindle yelled, dropping the hose and charging over to one of the showers.
“Move over, Stumpy!” Vortex said, attempting to shove himself under the same shower.
“Get your own!” Swindle pushed back at Vortex. “No! Wait! Wait! You wash my back, I’ll wash yours!”
“You wash mine first, I know this game,” Vortex said.
“Fine!” Swindle began attacking Vortex’s rotor assembly with a scrub brush.
“Really, Onslaught, you could have said.” Blast Off’s movements weren’t the same panicked flailing as Vortex and Swindle, but Onslaught could detect a certain haste as the shuttle moved from shower to heat-lamps.
“Indeed!” Brawl said as he began to rinse off.
Onslaught chuckled, leaning back and not bothering to answer as he enjoyed the sight of the others’ frenzied efforts.
Originally Posted: June 3, 2006
Note:Takes place after events in "Exhausted Combaticons"
“Okay Brawl. I found out what the stink was,” Swindle said, yanking an object free from Brawl’s leg treads. “Got jammed up there pretty good.”
“What was it?” Brawl asked, rubbing soap over his head.
“This. ‘Tex! Think fast!” Swindle chucked the decomposing head of a Generistan freedom fighter at Vortex.
“Eww!” Vortex yelled as the head exploded on impact with his hands. “That’s disgusting! What else has he got in there?”
Swindle poked Brawl’s treads with his scrub brush. “Not sure, it’s all kinda goopy now.”
“Oh! I wanna see!” Vortex ran across the refreshing room floor, dropping to his knees by Swindle, who pushed him away.
“Get your own brush and do his other leg!” Swindle snapped. “He’s probably got a whole village over there.”
“You think so?” Vortex hopped up and ran for a scrub brush before returning and attacking Brawl‘s treads with scrubbing vengeance. “Anything I find, I call dibs on!”
“Anything I find, I’ll let you have at a discount,” Swindle countered.
“Just scrub the damn treads already!” Brawl grumbled. “Don’t want to be in here all day!”
“Yes, do hurry,” Blast Off said from where he was luxuriating under a hot water spray. “Anything that ends this idiotic discussion.”
“Suck my exhaust,” Swindle said. “You think I don’t want to take my own bath? I got enough Generistan sand in me to start my own beach!”
“The sooner you settle down, the sooner you’ll be done,” Onslaught said, stretching out under the heat lamps as he dried off.
“They keep interrupting me!” Swindle protested, gesturing with his scrub brush at the others. “It ain’t fair, Ons!”
“Awww! Poor Swindle!” Vortex giggled. “Why don’t you go tell Bruticus all about it?”
“Yes,” Blast Off said. “He’s too young to be sick of your whining already.”
“That’s it!” Swindle threw down his scrub brush and stomped over to a high-pressure rinse hose. “Who wants to be first? Huh?”
“Nobody who wants to go to Monacus,” Onslaught drawled.
Suddenly, all optics were on Onslaught. Swindle lowered the hose, purple optics sparkling.
“Excuse me, but what did you say?” he asked, voice squeaking with excitement.
“Megatron was pleased by our performance in the Generistan oil fields,” Onslaught said. “He spoke to me upon our return to the Nemesis and said that as a reward, we’re being allowed a mission to Monacus. Seems there are some components he needs picked up and, in addition, we’ll be allowed a few days of free time once we successfully complete our task.”
“Monacus.” The others said the word reverently.
“Oh Ons,” Swindle said. “Guys, I’ve heard stories about that place! It is Combaticon Paradise!”
“The announcement isn’t official yet,” Onslaught said. “Megatron wants us to report for a briefing about the mission once we’re cleaned up. The sooner we’re done, the sooner we’ll be getting our clearances to leave.”
“Why didn’t you say so sooner?” Swindle yelled, dropping the hose and charging over to one of the showers.
“Move over, Stumpy!” Vortex said, attempting to shove himself under the same shower.
“Get your own!” Swindle pushed back at Vortex. “No! Wait! Wait! You wash my back, I’ll wash yours!”
“You wash mine first, I know this game,” Vortex said.
“Fine!” Swindle began attacking Vortex’s rotor assembly with a scrub brush.
“Really, Onslaught, you could have said.” Blast Off’s movements weren’t the same panicked flailing as Vortex and Swindle, but Onslaught could detect a certain haste as the shuttle moved from shower to heat-lamps.
“Indeed!” Brawl said as he began to rinse off.
Onslaught chuckled, leaning back and not bothering to answer as he enjoyed the sight of the others’ frenzied efforts.
