Title: The Better Way to Roll

Continuity: G1 Cartoon

Characters: Swindle, Constructicons, Vortex

Rating: PG

Genre: Friendship

Warnings: Silly.

Word Count: +800

Summary: Swindle goes to a Constructicon D&D game with Long Haul.

Long Haul looked back at Swindle uncertainly and then back to the group laid out on the medical ward floor. He scratched his head and wondered how to phrase what he wanted to say. The Constructicons had really gotten the short end of the stick when it came to tact, and Long Haul did not even get to carry that short stick, although he carried everything else as their supply officer. He said finally, "Hook's DMing. Usually Scrapper does, and he's pretty good, but Hook, he's... maybe you should come back next time?"

Hook snapped from behind his DM screen, "I will not break your little yellow friend, you know. He will merely learn how to play correctly, untainted by Scrapper's lenient, plot-driven nonsense."

"Next time, Hook, I'm letting your NPC girlfriend get eaten by orcs," Scrapper declared, scratching out an engraving of his character on a scrap piece of metal.

Hook snatched up Scrapper's character sheet and protested, "Are you stating up anothernecromancer? I swear, you give a playgroup prestige classes, and-"

Scrapper looked unrepentant and pointed out the character's alignment. He corrected, "This one is Lawful Good."

Mixmaster grabbed the sheet away and aimed a finger at the wizard's Charisma statistic. Grinning, he interjected, "And hot!"

Scrapper glared at Mixmaster and intoned, "She weeps for the souls of those whose rest she must deny."

Long Haul brushed off a spot on the floor, sending metal shavings flying, and gestured for Swindle to sit down next to him. He grabbed an unfilled sheet and spare set of dice. Long Haul was not the smartest of Constructicons, but even he knew not to let Swindle bring his own dice. The Combaticon seemed nonplussed. Long Haul directed, "So these here are your main stats - that's statistics, y'see. You're going to roll four six-sided die and drop the lowest score. You do that six times, and that's what you got for your stats."

Swindle picked up each of the dice individually and considered them carefully.

Mixmaster leaned over his shoulder and said, mock-mournfully, "They're not loaded. Hook took my snake-eye dice away."

"You wound me," Swindle protested, holding a hand to his chest. He rolled.

Long Haul squinted at the result and proclaimed, "Ten? So much for beginner's luck, Swindle."

Scavenger waved his character sheet and pointed out, a bit piteously, "Hook made me keep my seven." Long Haul knew that Scrapper would have let Scavenger reroll the seven, but Hook was more of a stickler than Scrapper was.

"This isn't gambling," the Combaticon replied evenly, rolling again.

The dice showed seventeen. Long Haul, ever cynical, waited for Swindle to finish. A sixteen, a twelve, and a ten followed. He started to grunt, "Not bad," when the dice fell for the last time. Eighteen started back up at Long Haul.

Bonecrusher growled, "Are you sure that punk didn't switch the dice?"

Swindle, showing admirable restraint, held out the dice for Bonecrusher to examine, and Long Haul excused, "They're my extra set." The demolitionist popped one of the dice into his mouth and bit it. He spat out the dented die, and Long Haul shouted, "Hey! It's going to roll funny now!"

"Do you think much about how dice roll, Long Haul?" Swindle asked quietly, rolling the dented die between his fingers.

"I know that some dice are just lucky and the others you give to Scavenger," Long Haul advised.

"That's not funny," Scavenger said, sulking.

"But we do it," Mixmaster reassured, gesturing to Scavenger's mismatched and tatty set of dice.

"I see," Swindle replied, looking at the ceiling.

After approximately half an hour of pestering, Swindle showed Vortex his character sheet. He could have just shown Vortex it right off the bat, but Vortex liked to work for his information. Being annoying made Vortex feel like he was doing his job, and Swindle was in a good enough mood to humour him. Vortex scrutinised the sheet closely for a few minutes, occasionally ticking something off on his fingers or holding his chin thoughtfully. Then, he looked up and asked, "So what in the name of manifest destiny is this supposed to mean?"

Swindle chuckled and started, "Well, you are the information specialist, but... these here are my character's stats."

Vortex turned the sheet sideways and queried bluntly, "Are they good?"

"Eighteen is as high as it goes," Swindle replied, without really answering. Vortex would not trust an easy answer, especially not from Swindle.

Vortex threw his hands in the air and let the sheet flutter into the wall. He demanded, "Then why don't you have all eighteens?"

"I could have had all eighteens," Swindle admitted. He took out a set of dice and rolled them, showing straight sixes. "It's just a matter of moments of inertia. Instead, I had a pleasurable evening, I did some networking with a fellow supply officer, and Long Haul and his comrades don't want to put my face through a wall." Swindle smirked. "I call that the better way to roll."

The End

Author's Note: This is an old fanfic of mine, written 2006-12-04, and mostly just tossed up here to collect my fanfics in one place.