Mars' Notebook

It was a card game. What else would it be?

Seriously.

The two mechs were playing a card game with one of the few remaining holodecks in the entire universe.

Okay, that's a lie. There were plenty of holodecks out there. It's just . . . You wouldn't think so with how destructive the War was.

Oh, who are we kidding? There needs to be a TON of holodecks because this war honestly stinks. As in, if you don't play a card game once in a while, you go INSANE.

Anyway.

The two mechs were playing a card game in the mess of the ship, occasionally exchanging words or signs.

It was a new game from a place called "Earth." Often played the natives of the planet: "Humans." He didn't think he would ever understand it, but many of the others did.

Contact with the 'bots on Earth was limited, and yet some of the culture had somehow made it all the way to Cybertron. Those who in more peaceful times would normally latch onto the newest product of Cybertronian culture latched onto the products of this planet known as Earth. Cards games, sound bytes, dance moves, holoflicks: Everything.

But the two mechs, one red and the other blue, were just playing this confusing human card game.

"Do you have any twos, Random?" the politer, more reserved red mech said to his bluer companion.

"Nope. Go to the pool of clear liquid and retrieve a living form of flesh and calcium," the red mech's companion replied.

But instead, the reserved mech took a card from the top of the holodeck and placed it into his hand.

"Got any threes, Sneak?" the blue mech asked after the red mech had done this.

"Unfortunately, I do not. Please 'go fish.'"

And that was one of the most confusing parts: "Go fish" or "living form of flesh and calcium." One was obviously using the correct term, but the other was just saying the weird things. What in the universe was a "fish" or even a "living form of flesh and calcium"? It made no sense.