"Aww, c'mon Red, ya must like something about human culture." Inferno said teasingly, nudging his companion. Red Alert glanced at him, lips going tight.

"Of course not Inferno. Whatever do they have that could possibly interest me?"

"Now, Red-" Inferno paused, optics studying Red Alert in curiosity. "-ya know that they have a lot to offer if you'd just let them. Ya should get on the Web and try looking around."

Red Alert muttered something under his breath, before glancing around the bare, functional security room. Inferno glanced down at his pager, before hauling himself to his feet. "See ya Red."

Red Alert watched as Inferno left, whistling merrily. Ever since the humans had started whistling, the robots had copied it. It was the closest they could get to Cybertronian without actually speaking it. Red Alert suspected that several of the prankster had worked out a code through whistling, but it had never been anything he had noticed.

Until now.

Infernos' whistling was now stuck in his CPU. The tune was faintly familiar, but vague enough to throw his CPU around a bend in confusion. With a groan he logged onto the internet, and in desperation searched the most important thing that would happen today.

April 1st. April Fools Day.

Red Alerts optics widened as the crews unusually paranoid shift finally clicked in his CPU.

Silently he leaned back in his chair, staring at the camera screens in front of him. He stared at them for a long time, CPU whirling and twisting. Revenge! His CPU screamed, countered by his loyal, paranoid streak.





Red Alert stood decisively. Smugly he tapped a few codes into the console before him, and left the room. Time to start rigging up the offices.


Jazz grinned as he casually sauntered into his office. Usually he was at Prowlers, but today he was going have to plan some things. Mostly pranks. There was a little bit of paperwork he still had to do, but he was willing to put it off for now.

With a grin he stepped up to his chair, blessing the humans that had invented a chair that would adjust heights. Due to his size, he had a hard time finding chairs that were at the right height for him.

Jazz sat down casually, and a tiny "Huh?" escaped his vocalizer as the chair began to sink. "What the slag-"

He stood up, and the chair rose slowly back to its perfect height. Suspiciously he sat down again. The chair sank. Stand, rise. Sit, sink. Stand, risee. Sit, sink.

Jazz regarded the chair in pained confusion, before his optics lit up under his visor. With a grin he checked underneath the chair. Silently he ripped off the duck tape, and sat down. This time the chair didn't sink.

"Hah! Take that twins." Jazz muttered, before opening the drawer that was supposed to hold his paperwork. He lifted out a datapad, and flicked it on.

He stared at the screen for a few moments, as a particularly handsome picture of Prowl popped up. "What the slag? I thought I put all of these pictures in the other drawer."

With a slightly puzzled frown, he turned around to the other drawer, to file it properly. Instead the drawer slid open to reveal all of his pens, pencils, and other human equipment that he was forced to use when doing human paperwork.

"Hey-" Jazz optics narrowed. The twins knew better then to touch his stuff, though he had to admit that they were rather good at switching things around. The pencil was still in its 30-degree angle that he loved to put it in-

With a sudden suspicion, Jazz slid open all of the drawers.

All of them slid open to reveal different drawers. Jazz sat fuming. The twins hadn't simply just switched out his things, they had switched out his entire drawers! With an angry growl, he began to pull the drawers completely out, and began to rearrange them.


Ironhide had been considering himself lucky so far today. No annoying pests had yet dared prank him, and he had been unmolested throughout the day. Ratchets voice broke over his comm. link, "Oh, Ironhide, do you have the report done yet?"

"Yep. Just let me go get it-"

"Hmm, I'll come to your office."

Before Ironhide could protest, Ratchet clicked off. With a grumble, Ironhide reversed his direction, mentally complaining at the medic. Ratchet didn't have to come to his office, the surly medic was simply being his usual pain in the aft and was going to take the time to give him a check-up, which would undoubtedly resolve itself in him being hauled to the medbay for replacement parts.

With a sigh he stepped into his own room, only to stop dead.

Ratchet, coming up behind him, didn't bother stifling a laugh.

Ironhides room had been painted a bright neon purple, the desk had peen painted bright pink, and a lacy tablecloth had been settled over it. The framed holopicture of Chromia had been switched from the plain, dark frame to a brilliant shade of red, and in one corner was a large heart, complete with lip marks. The floor had several huge, shaggy rugs, of several different, variously posed humans on the backs of cars.

"Ironhide, I never would've guessed you liked the color pink." Ratchet joked. Ironhide simply continued staring in disbelief.

Whoever had done this, (and he was going to kill the twins the second he got his hands on them) had done this thoroughly. And there was still the problem of when they had done it, and how they had gotten the materials. Certainly there were stores nearby, which the Autobots could use if they were careful, but still-

Red Alert would've most defiantly caught the influx of all of this material. Ratchet snickered as Ironhide stepped into the room, digging the report out of a small stack. "Here."

Ratchet took it, and snickered once more as he glanced around the room. "C'mon Ironhide, let's get to my office, and then I'll recalibrate your cannon."

Ironhide flicked on his vocalizer to protest, but as he glanced around the room, he fell silent once more. He didn't want to be stuck in here.

With a meek nod, he followed the medic out of the office, taking close care to lock it behind him. Quietly they walked down to the medbay, only broken by Ratchets intermediate snickers. Ironhides teeth ground together, but he didn't dare say anything. He wasn't going to make this checkup any more painful then he had too.

They entered the noticeably empty medbay. "I threatened everyone if they even so much as touched the medbay I'd haul them in for complete virus updates, all at once." Ratchets grin was more feral then nice. "That's kept all of the idiots away."

Ironhide nodded as he settled onto the berth. Ratchet pulled out his special tool kit, and tried to lift a scanner.

Tried being the operative word here. Ratchet grunted as the entire box lifted with the scanner. "What the slag?"

Ironhide decided now was the best time to prove whether he was a courageous Autobot, or a cowardly Decepticon. Quietly he began sneaking away as Ratchets optics narrowed.

The door slid close to Ratchets muttered curses and violent threats of retribution upon whomever glued his tools down in his kit.


Prowl, so far, had not been having a good day. Already he had been the target of several pranks, and he was about ready to burst. The next mech he caught trying to play a prank on him were going to find themselves in the brig, for the next few vorns.

Prime glanced up as Prowl stalked past. The Autobot leader placed his favorite energon cup to the side to stand, and follow after the stiff Prowl. "Prowl, have you managed to get the Arks crew under control?"

"No." The short answer was slightly discouraging, but Prime continued to walk with Prowl.

Prowl gradually relaxed as Prime stuck with him. Nobody would dare prank the two of them together, not unless the prank was set up to target anybody. If that was the case, then he could depend of Prime to get him out of it.

They managed to get down the hallway safely, and Prowl turned to his office, quiet ready to escape into the safety of the room. He wasn't going to leave it until it was safe. Which probably meant somewhere around April 30th.

The door slid open to a room completely covered in tinfoil. Tinfoil painted bright blue. Hanging on fishing line were a variety of underwater creature toys, the most impressive being the twenty-foot squid. Prowl croaked, "Impossible, only I know the code-"

Prime caught the tactician before he could hit the ground. With a glance around, he backed out fo the room, and quietly contacted Jazz. "Jazz, Prowl crashed again. Could you come and clean out his room before he wakes up?"

Jazz perked up, "What made him crash this time?"

Prime brushed aside a fish that attempted to launch itself out of the door. Who the slag has this much free time on their hands that they could set all of this up? Not that it'd be hard. Prowl was gone from his room for most of the day.

Jazz came hurrying down the hallway, eager to see what had made his friend crash. "Well Prime?"

Prime stood to one side so that Jazz could enter. A sharp whistle of stunned surprise escaped the vocalizer of the stunned mech, and Prime sighed. "Contact me if you need anything Jazz."

"Will do Prime."

With a musing expression, Prime turned, and walked down the hallway back to his office. He reached for where he had placed his energon cup, and was met with empty air.

Prime frowned as he glanced at the spot, and one optic ridge went up as he spotted the piece of paper sitting in its place. Silently he lifted up the paper to look at it- and choked.

Printed on the paper was a picture of the cup, with a hammer lying close to it. A typed message lay beneath it.

Your cup has been kidnapped, and I am holding it for ransom. If you ever wish to see it again, you will wait for my call. Tell no one.

Prime sat back, staring at the ransom note for a long few minutes, before he softly chuckled. "Oh, don't worry, I don't think I'll be telling anyone about this."

Silently he tucked it away, and turned to pick up his stylus.

a/n: written for a friend, hope you all like it, and merry April Fools Day!