Mixmaster, upon hearing Hooks advice, notices there isn't a trumpet in his hand. He searches the ground and finds Clarice quickly enough. "Huh? Why, what did my trumpetting do?"
Long Haul finally finishes laughing with a pleased sigh. For once, he's having a good day! He beat Mixmaster in a trumpeting challenge, he didn't get glued, and he got to watch his brother do the chicken dance! He shakes his head happily as he mentally runs over the events of the last while and opens up his case to put his trumpet away (lacking, as he does, a handy built in compartment).
"I think it overheated your processor" Hook replies. "Or.. something. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about." Muah. Muahahahaha. "If you like, I could have a look at it.."
Scrapper exits Trypticon. He's just finished up a batch of reports and a round of duty in the medbay, and he wants to get out and... stare at all the stuff that isn't built out here. Grah.
Mixmaster puts his trumpet away lest he damage it some more.. and then Hook happily offers to look at something. Waiiitaminnit. "Hang on.. what are YOU doing offering me something all nice-like!" Mixmaster says, pointing an accusing finger at his snooty brother. "What do you know about whatever just happened?"
Hook puts his hands up in a 'who me?' position. "I just wouldn't want you to overheat... or something... while we were merged. It would cause no end of problems!"
Actually, come to think of it... "Weren't we once knocked out of gestalt because Scrapper had a different problem with... erm, that word?" Long Haul asks as he closes his case with a *snap*. "Maybe we oughta take care of that..." Not that he's one to talk about being prematurely knocked out of gestalt, given how that happened most recently.
Scrapper acks! Perhaps he can cleverly hide down that manhole... to the sewer systems... that they haven't installed. Blast! He shuffles on his feet and coughs, trying to think of some slick plan to save his day here.
"What word was that?" Mixmaster says, turning to Long Haul. "You mean when he got nerve pain whenever he heard the word Retard?" And, just like that, Mixmaster stops what he's doing to do the chicken dance again.
Hook can't help himself as he finally gives in and keels over laughing while Mixmaster dancces.
Long Haul starts laughing again as well, although this time not quite as long or hard as the last time. After all, it doesn't come as big as a surprise now. "Yeah, that word!" he answers cheerfully once he finishes.
Arachnae has disconnected.
Mixmaster comes to once again, now a bit more aware of what is going on. He doesn't know /all/ the answers, but he knows enough. Hook is acting like someone who knows more about what is going on. Everyone else is laughing, so it's embarrassing. And it involves the word Reta-IT INVOLVES THAT WORD! DO NOT THINK IT! So Hook has probably done something to him, or knows who has. But he still doesn't know WHAT the deal is, just that he comes to at the sound of his own hands clapping together. "...I will get you all for this." He calmly states.
Hook takes control of himself, stopping laughing and getting back to his feet, grinning at Mixmaster before replying to Scrapper. "I'm not entirely sure.. I think Mixmaster has a minor systems glitch of some kind."
Long Haul looks innocent! Well, he looks expressionless, since he doesn't really have a face to make an expression with. "What?! I didn't have anything to do with it!" No, he's just enjoying the situation as best he can! After what Mixmaster did to him a couple of days ago, and /keeps/ doing to him, the pleasure he gets from seeing the (al)chemist being made the fool is without measure.
Mixmaster gets beaten up enough times from the others, so it all balances out, really. But he just hates this. He notices his brother Scrapper, in his terribly obvious position. "Scrapper, that's what I want to know! What was just happening?"
Scrapper tilts his head skyward. 'Mixmaster' and 'minor systems glitch' do not belong the same sentence! 'Mixmaster' and 'yet another systems glitch', yes, now that makes sense. He looks at Mixmaster and says, scratching the back of his helmet, "If I knew, why would I have been asking?"
"SCRAPPER JUST TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED!!" Mixmaster yells, clenching his fists.
"/I/ already toldja, Mixmaster!" Long Haul answers, raising his voice out of general reflex. "You danced! S'not my fault no one wants t'listen to me!"
Scrapper looks at Mixmaster like he... dangit, Mixmaster makes it so hard to think of implausible similes. He tosses his arms up in the air and grouses, "Yeah, dancing! Or whatever the smelt that was."
Mixmaster honestly didn't hear Long Haul say that. But that's okay, if he did he still wouldn't have cared. "Dancing..." He says, starting to strain his cranial processor.
Thus proving Long Haul's point about no one listening to him. Bah! "Yeah, dancin'! You were flapping yer elbows and stuff like that." He chuckles slightly. "S'pretty funny lookin'." Probably no one's going to pay attention to /this/ either, but Long Haul says it anyway.
Hook shrugs. "Something like that" he says to Mixmaster. "While you contemplate that, I just have.. something to do... over.. that way.." Hook waves his hand vaguely in Trypticon's direction. And walks off. Briskly. But does not run.
Long Haul watches Hook leave and nods his head after him. "Bet he knows," he says, observing the obvious.
Hook has disconnected.
Mixmaster chases after Hook. "Wait, I'm not done with you!" Sure, you could say that he is reacting to Long Haul, but he was probably going to do that anyway.
Scrapper watches his two brothers go, a 'What the...?' look plain in his pose and demeanour. He looks back at Long Haul, sighs, and shrugs. He tilts his optic band skyward again and says, tone resigned, "Life is full of mysteries."
Long Haul nods his head. "Yup," he answers rather cheerfully. Won a trumpeting challenge and got to watch Mixmaster make a fool complete fool of himself all in one day... why wouldn't he be cheerful? Well, there is all that work he's been putting off in order to practice his trumpet playing...
Mixmaster has disconnected.
Scrapper had better enjoy Long Haul-in-a-good-mood while it lasts, dammit! Well, okay. maybe not. With all the excitement over, it's probably time for the transporter to get back to work. He gives a final shrug and walks off. "See ya, Scrapper," he says as he departs, his good mood not yet squashed.
Long Haul vanishes out of reality.
Long Haul has left.