#rid drift

The trap was set, and the plan was simple. According to Sideswipe, all of the small details that went into making this great prank take place were already settled. He took the brunt of the workload, as he had claimed—the minicons need do nothing more than back him up and make sure everything went accordingly.

Jetstorm had jumped at the opportunity to play a good prank on their mentor. It was foolproof and harmless according to the vague details Sideswipe had given them, which made it the perfect setup for a few good laughs. Slipstream, who had also been eager and excited at first, slowly found his resolve waning the longer they sat hidden out of sight and watching for Drift to return from practice.

So far, things were on the right track. Sideswipe had put together a special elixir mix of fuels—something he had vehemently refused to share the details of with the minicons, as that was supposedly apart of the “big reveal”—and left the unassuming cube in the minicons’ clutches. He had decided on distracting Drift with some intense training for the day while the two small bots prepared the setup to look as natural as possible, and now, as their mentor and leader of the fun little prank came into view from the distance, the two scrambled to get into position.

Training was rigorous, and Drift always made a habit of refueling afterwards. It was what Slipstream had said while Sideswipe snickered over his strange and unnamed concoction, and it was what Jetstorm agreed on as the third mischievous mech of their crew solidified the plan. Now things were in motion, and all they could do was watch, wait, and listen… all after they gave their mentor the energon, that is.

Jetstorm had stood up from his crouch and was reaching for the cube when Slipstream stopped him, a servo extended and his face twisted in a nervous frown. He had been second-guessing this whole thing from the start, but now that it was time for it to begin, his worries had grown.

“Hey, wait,” he said, his arm the one thing blocking Jetstorm from reaching for the cube. “Don’t you think this all seems a little, uh…”

“What?” Jetstorm nudged right past him and snatched up the cube. Drift and Sideswipe were getting closer. “Don’t tell me you’re backing out now, Slipstream. It’ll be fine! It’s just a harmless little prank.”

Slipstream frowned a little deeper. “Yeah… right. Harmless fun, that’s all.”

He couldn’t argue with that logic. After all, it was just a bit of fuel. Maybe Sideswipe had made it taste funny, or maybe he’d switched it out with engex, or… or maybe—

“Heh-hey, guys!” Sideswipe called out to them with a wave. “Hope you weren’t waiting too long! We just got back from the training field.”

Drift was silent as he walked in sync with Sideswipe’s casual pace, but his smile was warm as he waved his minicons over. That was the second part of their plan falling into place—they couldn’t join him for a sparring session that day, but they did have something special in store when he returned.

“I hope we haven’t kept you waiting for long,” Drift said once they had stopped, “and I am sorry to hear that you couldn’t accompany us. However—“

His smile grew as Jetstorm lifted up the cube for him to take, and he took it happily, much to Slipstream’s disappointment.

“—I am grateful to have you both here to accompany me again. Training is important…”

“But refueling is more important,” Jetstorm nodded. “Well, drink up, Drift! Me, Slipstream and Sideswipe made it up special for you.”

Sideswipe could hardly contain his snickering as he moved to stand beside the minibots. “That we did,” he said between chuckles, his amusement far from discreet.

The two minibots waited in anxious anticipation as their mentor tipped the cube back and drained it in one go. He finished without a sound and without a grimace, acting as though there was nothing different about the fuel at all. They had expected a foul taste, or maybe a dramatic disappearing act, or perhaps something out of the ordinary that made Sideswipe so eager to keep the prank a secret, but from the looks of things, nothing was amiss—nothing at all.

There were no signs at first. Nothing seemed wrong, and nothing had happened. The calm didn’t last long, however, and after the first moments of relief had passed, Drift’s contented expression soured.

It was hardly noticeable at first, save for the sounds of creaking metal and Drift’s groaning. He looked confused, then panicked, then… swollen. His gasps turned into muffled sounds stifled by his cheeks puffing up around his face, and his servos cupping his belly were thrown aside as his middle rapidly expanded. It was his face first, then his belly, then his arms and his thighs drowned by swollen mesh and too-tight plating that popped at the seams and warped around his rounded frame.

Both Slipstream and Jetstorm were frozen in horrified shock at the sight of their mentor ballooning up until he was as big as Grimlock and rounder than a berry. His servos still waved frantically as he wobbled in place, and his pedes—covered by the mass of mesh swelling up and bloating outward—were hardly visible until he was falling backwards and trapped on his back.

Sideswipe was bent over his knees and cackling up a storm at the sight. It was perfect—everything had gone according to plan, right down to the fearful looks on the two minibots’ faces as they scrambled to right their mentor and babbled apologies between their pitiful explanations.

“We’re so sorry—!” Slipstream cried as he clung to Drift’s servo and stared up at the sight. “We didn’t think—“

“We didn’t mean for this to happen!” Jetstorm cut in between running back and forth around poor Drift as he searched for a vantage point. “Sideswipe had said—“

“And the fuel—“

“And then we thought it was just a little prank, and—and—“

Both minibots wailed in unison as they clung to their mentor, who was still struggling to right himself. Sideswipe had fallen to the ground in a heap of laughter nearby, but between the tears and the hiccuping snorts, he, too, managed to say his piece.

“You should all see your faces right now!” he cackled, a trembling servo lifted to point at the sphere-shaped mech and his two panicked mentees. “You—you guys look so scared, I—ah, I just—I just can’t take it, it’s too funny!”

“It won’t happen again,” Slipstream stammered.

“We won’t ever play pranks on you ever again!” Jetstorm said as he clung to Drift’s other servo. “We’re sorry, Drift, we’re so, so sorry!”

Drift tried to speak, but with his face covered in chub just like the rest of him, all he could muster was a few muffled sounds. It was just enough for the two minibots to understand, though, and the damage was already done. He was swollen up like a cyber-berry and was looking just the part. With any luck, the effects would wear off by the end of the day… if not later.

“Got you two good, didn’t I?” Sideswipe chuckled after he had gotten his bearings back. Both minibots looked back to him with dread as Drift muffled something unintelligible, but it only served to make him laugh more. “That oughta teach ya to prank with me! If you can’t keep up, don’t bother trying!”