An Exercise in Concentration


How to drive Red Alert insane in 100 words or less.

Warning: Pure crack.

"What's two plus two?"


"BBBBBZZT! Wrong. It's fish."

"That…makes no sense."

"Sure it does. If you combine two two's, you get fish!"

Muttering. "…what kind of bizarre human ritual could possibly combine two numerical concepts to produce fish?"

"Only the dangerous and possibly space-time-continuum-warping kind."

"Dangerous! That makes it a security risk! I must go write a policy disallowing any warping of the space-time continuum, especially when caused by the production of fish!"

"You do that." Pause. "Oh, and Red?"

"Can't you see I'm busy sending out a memo?"

"Don't forget that two plus two can also equal five. In an equally threatening manner."

"…Oh dear. I believe this must be researched in greater depth."

"Hey, Red."

"Have you been properly scanned before being given access to this area?"

"….Red, we're in a parking lot."

"Precisely. Who knows what damage any errant fish could do to this structure?"

"….Don't tell me. You made a machine that scans for fish."

"AND the number five. Speaking of which, there are currently five buttons on your shirt. You must remove one or add another before I can allow you access to the base."

"You do know that I have five fingers on each hand, right? And five toes on each foot?"

"Oh dear." Pause. "Do you think I could get authorization from Prime to rid you of two fingers and two toes?"

"Hey, Red."

"Oh dear Primus. It's you."

"You say that like it's a bad thing. I'm hurt, Red."

"It IS a bad thing! Do you know how much paperwork I end up doing after every encounter with you?"

"You know you like it."

"…Stop that. What is that thing you're doing with your eyebrows? It looks suspicious."

"What, you mean….this?"


"Or did you mean…this."

"AND that. I'm banning both as of this exact moment. So kindly refrain from allowing your eyebrows to make any sudden movements, or I'll be forced to shave them off."

"Hey, Red?"


"Dude, I know you can hear me. I'm standing right next to you."

"….Redalert is not here at the moment. Please leave a message after the beep. BEEP."

"Well, since you're obviously not here, I might as well not bother to tell you that the twins have TP'ed the rec room again and replaced all the bottles of shampoo with purple hair dye."

"I KNEW IT! That pair of heathens are Decepticon sympathizers!"

"….Um, on second thought, I don't think you're really going to need that big gun. No seriously, put it down. It's bigger than you are."

"I am a lying frog. Everything I say is a lie. I'm lying to you right now."

"Wait, that doesn't-! …..I hate you. You DO know that, right?"

"Don't listen to them."


"Whatever you do, don't take the cake."

"…am I to assume from your nonsensical speech that you have inhaled some sort of carcinogen?"

"Don't do it. Don't take it."

"You are forcing me to do this- ::Bumblebee, come retrieve your human. It's babbling again. And have Ratchet examine its brain::"

"The cake is a lie."

::Bumblebee, get down h-:: "Wait, how can the cake be a lie?"

"Because it's a lie."

"…oh Primus. Don't tell me the Decepticons are plotting to destroy us with bombs hidden in confectionary sweets!"

"You know, I DID see Lennox put this big chocolate cake in the rec room fridge yesterday…"

"…I knew it."

"The posting of any signs is strictly prohibited in this area."

"But Red, this isn't a sign."

"It's a portrayal of a mythological creature printed on a piece of paper. I do believe that counts as a sign."

"No really, this isn't a sign."

"Then what is it?"


"…I'm not falling for one of your cruel tricks again."

"But Red, aren't we all just atoms at the end of the day? And atoms are made up of subatomic particles, which are in turn made up of mass-less bursts of energy—which, essentially, makes the entire universe no more than a series of random bursts of energy that are each indistinguishable from one another. And since they have no mass and no volume, they logically cannot exist as anything more than thought of existence. But even thoughts don't actually exist, we just think they exist—"


"Dude, why is RedAlert just staring at that My Little Pony poster?"

"I don't know, but he's been standing there for the last four hours."

"…You bring your camera?"

"Bitch, please."