(Can I do this? I’m doing it anyway.)
Free day! If there’s a drabble you’ve been wanting to write but haven’t had the right prompt to do it, now’s the time.
[AN: I don’t know when I’m going to get one of these again, so I’m going for broke. Be warned: the first one included feels inspired by this post. The second one is just a silly thing inspired by quinsecticide ]
“Spine! Do something!”
“There’s a hill! I can’t zap what I can’t see,” he, too, cowered in the trenches with his unit. “Besides, with this atmosphere, there’s a chance I’d hit all of you.”
Someone said something about useless robots. The Spine was used to hearing it.
“It’s okay, fellas,” shouted Green. “We got air support coming in! Thank God for the Whuffos!”
The Spine needed clarification. “Whuffos?”
“You know. ‘Whuffo did you jump outta that nice plane?’ It’s a joke.”
“Ah.” Much of human humour evaded him. Especially on the battlefield.
The plane came overhead to the arcing lights of tracer rounds. Even The Spine’s eyes couldn’t pick out the tiny dots that were falling humans.
But he could pick out a scream.
“They sent the Banshee!” Roberts grinned. “I don’t believe it, they sent the Banshee!”
One chute opened before the others. From it, blue balls of energy scattered the enemy from their fortifications. The scream continued.
He knew that voice. He knew that blue energy.
“Rabbit…” What had they done?
Once again, the government enlisted them for war. But this time, it was not saving soldiers from Mustard Gas. This time, they would be serving in varied arms of the armed forces.
They had custom uniforms, of course. The Spine’s own multiple steam chimneys made certain of that. Plus, their metal bodies had heat issues that human uniforms merely complicated.
He remembered waving to the other two as they took him away.
“It’ll be all right,” said Rabbit. “We’re b-built to last.”
The Spine was in the army. He hadn’t seen any of his brothers since the recruitment offices had separated them for uniform fittings and publicity photos for the poster artist.
He’d wanted to send a letter to Rabbit, asking why he looked so sad. The army kept telling him that ordinance wasn’t allowed mail.
Now he knew they were lying.
The chute fell faster than any other paratrooper. Became a target for the enemy’s rounds. The Spine could hear them ricochet off Rabbit’s copper skin.
And all he could do was watch as his first and best friend fell perilously fast towards the very hill that vexed them all.
He left the trench without thinking. Risked mortar fire tearing him to pieces at any second. Tried to catch his copper twin.
“OUTTA THE WAY D-D-DUMMINS!” Rabbit deliberately avoided his reaching arms.
There was a horrible crunch.
Well. Since he was on top of the hill anyway… The Spine fired his tesla at the enemy. Electrocuted their guns and possibly more than a few enemy soldiers.
He would weep for them, later.
Right now… Rabbit was a mess. His legs had broken into separate pieces. Scattered all over the mud and blood of no-man’s land.
The rest of the unit charged across the mud. The Spine let them.
“S-s-s-see?” panted Rabbit. “If I’d hi-hit y-y-y-y-you… There’d be no-nobody t’ take me b-b-back for re-re-repairs.”
The Spine desperately gathered parts. “Some of these bolts sheared straight off, Rabbit. Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Naw. I asked Duo t’ d-d-d-disable the damage se-se-sensors. Jus’ l-l-like the g-great war. Ain’t fe-feelin’ a thing.”
The pants were shredded ruins, but they did save many of Rabbit’s cogs. The Spine tried to ignore the spilling oil and piece together what he could of his brother.
“He-here.” Rabbit passed over a necklace of paperclips. “They’ll d-d-do until we g-g-g-g-g-g-get b-b-ba-b-back.”
All The Spine could think of was how his twin was going to be inches shorter than him from this war onwards. That, and wondering why Pappy had built them to last at all.
At least he knew, now. He knew why Rabbit looked so sad.
Rabbit was always smart, for all that he played the fool. He’d probably worked it out seconds after the first parachute got strapped to him. And the photographer could not make him smile.
 WWII happens before the cooling fin upgrade
 Hatchy, though operational, was considered 'too old-fashioned’ for a modern poster and just sent straight to the front as mobile artillery.
 Rabbit either hasn’t decided or hasn’t come out. Your choice.
The Inauguration of Mayor McToilet
The first thing The Spine did when Mr Reed left him in charge was to check and make certain Rabbit wasn’t getting into trouble.
Far, far too late.
Rabbit was decorating the main ballroom with toilet paper. She had already transformed the curtains and the chandelier and, to a certain extent, herself.
“There’s no time, th’ Spine! I g-g-g-gotta get ready for the wedding!” A toilet-paper rosette became a wall decoration. She seemed to notice him for the first time. “Mistah Mayor, sir! You’re right on time,” she adorned him with a sash made of the same white paper and embellished with vivid red lipstick.
Rabbit stepped back to appraise him. “You forgot y-y-y-y-y-your monocle. For shame! And on such a formal occasion, too.”
He could feel reality slipping away under the power of Rabbit’s imagination. And his connection to the wifi wasn’t helping. “Now, Rabbit…”
“Lucky for you I g-g-g-g-got a spare.” The cardboard tube intersected with and locked on to his face.
The transformation - and the loss of control - was complete. “How may I assist, madame?”
“Take this,” three rolls of toilet paper, “and fancy up the foyer. We got g-guests com in’, Mayor! We ne-need t’ hurry!”