<Inside Megatron's Former Garden of the Unwanted and Unloved (I bet you
thought you'd never see this place again, eh?)>
Thrust is wandering aimlessly around the deserted hallways, a little out
of sorts. Maybe he's tired of being a second-rate villain. Maybe he misses
his friends. Maybe he's just brooding too much. Maybe, then, it's
forgivable that he walks into Jetstorm's old quarters ready to watch some Pokémon like back in the good old days.
Only what he finds he wasn't expecting at all...
Thrust: What the slag is this?
Crammed into every nook and cranny of the room are computers, readouts,
and tactical panels. Almost no part of the area is left untouched by the
intrusion of military technology. Only a few posters of Jetstorm, striking various poses from multiple angles, remain
hanging on the walls -- the only vestiges left of the all-consuming lifestyle of
the former Vehicon inhabitant. Out of a corner come
Obsidian and Stryka. They appear to have been arguing.
Thrust: What's going on here? What have you done to Jetstorm's room?!
Obsidian: <tossing aside a circuit board> Do you mind? I am trying to talk to
Thrust: Oh yeah, I mind! I just wanted to watch some television and
knock back a few energon martinis. But this... nothing excuses
this! Get this cleared out immediately!
Stryka: Listen, Annoying Purple Thing: Megatron has ordered us to retake
the Citadel in case the Maximals try to invade and discover the "modifications."
After careful analysis, we have found that this room is the most strategic location in the entire
A poster of Jetstorm falls off the wall.
Obsidian: Now, if you're finished asking us inane questions, would you
please be a good motorcycle and scoot along, or do whatever it is you do?
Thrust: I'm not going to be muscled around by you two goons! I don't
like questioning the boss's decisions, but bringing the both of you back online
was a big mistake as far as I'm concerned. I won't let you do this to
me... to Jetstorm! You
haven't heard the last of this!
With that, Thrust zooms off. Stryka turns away from the door, looking
Stryka: Perhaps he is right, beloved.
Obsidian: <working at a nearby station> Do not strain yourself, he
can no longer hear us.
Obliging, Stryka relaxes subtly and begins speaking again.
Stryka: Ovsidian... it's just zat you hafn't looked at me ze same vay
since ve vere brought back online. Is it zis body? I agree zat it's
not quite vhat I'm used to...
Obsidian: Do not be silly, darling. I care for you no matter how you
Stryka: Zen vy do you only vant to merge spark vis me from behind?
Are you tryink to pretend zat I am somevone else?
Obsidian: <sighing> Stryka... your exhaust shaft is enormous and
purple. Who am I going to pretend you are? Starscream?
Starscream: I am not gay!
Stryka: It'z just zat you don't nurture my emotions. All you seem to
care about is ze military... your career... "protecting" Cybertron.
Obsidian: And what do you mean by that?
Stryka: Oooh! I just don't know anymore! I don't know
you! I don't know us!
Stryka glides away on her anti-gravity shoes, crying into her lacrosse
gauntlets. Obsidian is left with a control pad in one hand and a lot of
questions. He shouts louder than is necessary.
Obsidian: Fine! Be that way! I'll go ahead and destroy the
Maximals without your help!
... but no one hears him, and he is left alone in the mess of a bedroom.
Obsidian: <to himself> She's too clingy, too needy, too... butch.
I need a girl who's more feminine. Someone who isn't afraid to
stand on her own...
Obsidian flips through pages of Maximal reports and statistical
readouts. A picture of Blackarachnia coalesces on the screen.
Obsidian: ... someone like her.
For a moment, Obsidian imagines himself in a grandiose pose while the
cityscape of Cybertropolis burns to ashes at his what-passes-for-feet.
<Gardening in the Orchard beneath the Oracle>
Blackarachnia gives her hair one final tug.
Blackarachnia: He's sure to notice me now, heh heh heh...
Blackarachnia walks into the main garden area, making her way towards the
other end. However, since everyone is busy gardening, she can't help but run into some of her teammates along the
Rattrap: <wearing work gloves and a bandanna> Hey there-- woah! Webs! What's with the 'do?
Rattrap indicates Blackarachnia's hair.
Blackarachnia: Oh, that? It's nothing.
She gives one braid a premonitory pull and keeps on walking.
Cheetor: <holding a branch between his paws> Woah, check *you* out.
Blackarachnia: Out of my way, spotted dick...
Cheetor: Hey, can't a 'bot give a girl a compliment?
Silverbolt: <from behind Cheetor> NO.
Cheetor: Oh, Silverbolt! Hi! I, uh, didn't see you come in.
Blackarachnia: Never mind him, Silverbolt.
Silverbolt: <to Cheetor> You'll have to repeat that, kitten,
I didn't... I--
Silverbolt looks at Blackarachnia. She bats her eyes at him.
Silverbolt: I think that this seed is germinating. Will you excuse me?
Silverbolt runs to another part of the garden.
Blackarachnia follows and crouches down to where Silverbolt is planting technorganic seeds.
Blackarachnia: Silverbolt. <tussling her tightly wound hair> Isn't there anything you want to say to me?
Silverbolt takes a moment before looking up at her. His mouth hangs open, making it apparent that he knows he's supposed to say something, but has no idea what it
Just at that moment, a loud roaring emanates from a shack nearby. T-Wrecks comes storming out of Optimus Primal's "office" in a fit of rage.
As he passes the Maximals in the garden, he nods -- indicating Blackarachnia -- but does not once stop frowning.
T-Wrecks: Good day, my lady.
Silverbolt watches the Dinobot leader all the way out. Once
T-Wrecks reaches the exit, he Transforms and plods off, shaking the ground as he goes. Optimus walks out of the makeshift building in Beast Mode, scratching his head with one mighty monkey paw.
Rattrap: <wiping hands on bandanna> Eh, that went surprisingly well.
Primal: <sigh> Just as thickheaded and stubborn as the originals.
Silverbolt: <to Blackarachnia> What was that all about?
Silverbolt: I think you know what I'm talking about.
Blackarachnia: No. I don't. What are you talking about, bone-brain?
Silverbolt: <throwing away his hand hoe> Don't you think he's
taking far too much interest in you?
Blackarachnia: Well, at least *someone* around here notices me!
Cheetor: Well, I--
Rattrap: That is to say, we--
Blackarachnia: SHUT UP! I'm not talking about you!
Silverbolt: Well, that's just fine. I go off and get sequestered by
Megatron, and you go around petting the housecat behind my back.
Cheetor: Oh YEAH!
Blackarachnia: That's... that's not fair. I spent so much time--
Silverbolt: Save it. <picking up his hoe> I have some
gardening to do.
Rattrap walks up to Blackarachnia from behind. She seems on the
verge of crying.
Rattrap: <waving a gardening tool in the air as he speaks> Look,
Webs, I'm sorry. If there's anything--
Blackarachnia: Not you, too! Stay out of this! Just--
Rattrap takes a noticeable step back. Then, unexpectedly (like you needed us to tell you that), Blackarachnia doubles
over. When she gets up again, she's in her Tarantulas body.
Blackarachnia/Tarantulas: What the slag? I didn't even get hit by
Primal: There's no time for that! I just got a call from NickBee and
Nightscream. They've spotted some unusual Vehicon activity and have
requested backup. Blackarachnia, I want you and Botanica topside on the
double! <to the rest of the Maximals> Let's get moving people! We still have a lot of episode
Tarantulas/Blackarachina: This just isn't going to be my day...
Silverbolt: <singing to himself> Gardening ninjas... Gardening
Ninjas... They're not really gardeners... but they're Ninjas... HIYA!
<Down by the River -- you know, the one from Episode 9>
The Dinobots are lounging in Beast Mode, taking a little
break. Amidst some empty champagne bottles and broken drinking glasses
sits T-Wrecks' face mask. T-Wrecks himself wades so low in the water that most of his
Tyrannosaur body is obscured. One could almost say that he was sulking,
but then one would be getting his ass swiftly handed to him for doing so.
Triceradon: Damn straight! No one messes with Big T!
Dinotron: Look, the Maximals are way out of line this time. I say we
forget 'em and start busting some Vehicon skullcasings!
Striker: I'm all for that! What do you say, Big T?
T-Wrecks doesn't indicate that he notices any of what's going on, and in
fact seems lost in thought.
T-Wrecks: There is more to Cybertron than just
this one city, Optimus Primal. Did you not think to search for other
survivors? Do you know how many have died because of your
inaction? Even when we were able to save them from the Vehicons, we
had to stand helplessly by as they went offline one by one because of the
virus. We were able to cure a few, but it was not enough. How
many could *you* have saved had you been there, Optimus Primal?
Primal: <looking up from his meditation> I'm sorry, did you say something?
T-Wrecks: I cannot believe you are not taking these matters more seriously!
the only thing that stands between the renewed life or certain death of
Cybertron, and you are either too busy blissing off into oblivion,
indiscriminately reformatting Vehicon generals, or sticking your fingers in your
ears when I am talking to you!
Primal: <fingers in ears> Buddha Monkey hear no evil...
T-Wrecks: The only way to beat Megatron is to stop playing by his rules an
go on the offensive. Hit him hard and fast. But look at you.
Your team is soft. Weak. You can't even clip your own fingernails.
Primal: <taking his hands off the sides of his head> At least I don't have a stupid name.
T-Wrecks: Perhaps I misjudged you, Optimus Primal. I thought you to
be a leader of character and unparalleled wit. It seems that I was gravely
Primal: <starts dancing> Lookit! Look at the silly dancing monkey! Oook oook!
T-Wrecks: <grumbling> Perhaps Optimus Primal is right. Perhaps
I really do have a stupid name...
Dinotron: In case you haven't noticed, we *all* have stupid names.
T-Wrecks transforms, and picks up his mask from off-camera so that his
face remains unseen. Affixing it to its proper place, he walks over to
Airraptor, already in Robot Mode, who's staring listlessly at his weapon.
T-Wrecks: You seem even more downcast than I, my friend. I thought
Dinotron was the quiet one.
Airraptor: Those Maximals, Big T... I think I almost remember something.
T-Wrecks: You are one of us now, son. You are a Dinobot. Do
ever forget that.
Airraptor: But what if they find out? What if they go nuts and try
to reformat me?
Airraptor suddenly imagines himself as a silver, blue, and orange skeletal
Pteranadon, with a pointy, cone-like Robot Mode head. He shudders.
T-Wrecks: There is no need to worry about that. Come, we should get
moving again before sunrise.
<Somewhere outside Cybertropolis>
Thrust is in Vehicle Mode, riding about the landscape. He has a
particular destination in mind, but since he's certain not to find anything when
he gets there, he's in no particular hurry.
Thrust: It isn't fair! The one thing I had left of Jetstorm is gone!
Thrust brings up an image of Blackarachnia in her reformatted and
TransMetal Tarantulas types.
Thrust: At least you got the girl, old buddy. Man, I wish I were you
He almost doesn't notice Stryka riding up alongside him.
Stryka: Stop immediately!
Thrust obliges, and transforms for good measure. Stryka follows suit
and plods toward him.
Stryka: State your destination. Megatron has decreed that no one be
allowed unauthorized travel.
Thrust: Oh really? I thought you'd be off with your boyfriend trying
to figure out new ways to ruin my life!
Thrust quickly prints out the image he was looking at moments earlier.
Thrust: <waving the image in the air> I coulda had it all! Chicks, power, all of it. You can
at least allow me this moment of peace!
Thrust tears up the picture and transforms into vehicle mode, preparing to
resume his trek. Stryka bends over to pick up the half of the photograph
with Tarantulas in a rather seductive pose, wearing a torn Armani dress.
Stryka: Who is this magnificent creature? I must have him!
Thrust: Yeah, well, good luck with that.
He speeds off into to horizon while Stryka ogles the picture.
Stryka: I will make him mine!
<Near the Space Port>
NickBee: It's about time you showed up!
Botanica: Sorry, we had to stop for some water.
Blackarachnia: Never mind that. What's going on here?
NickBee: These drones are up to something. Something dark and
insidious. I can feel it pulsating in, echoed in the rhythm of my own
tortured and unnamed spark...
Nightscream: No. It just looks like they're building a high school.
Botanica: By Primus, no!
Blackarachnia: So, what are we waiting for? Let's slag 'em!
Nightscream: <sidling up to Blackarachnia> What's with the hair,
Blackarachnia: <backhands Nightscream> Shut up, kid. You
Botanica: Maximals... attack!
Nightscream: Who died and made you Primal?
Botanica: Has everyone already forgotten that I commanded my own ship?
It's too late for arguments, because the drones have already finished
their task. They form two lines, facing each other, in front of the large
structure. At the end of the two rows floats Obsidian. He silently
signals for them to attack, and they charge.
Nightscream: Here they come...!
Blackarachnia stands fast against the aggressors, but they all run past
her to her comrades. Every time she tries to start a fight, the drones
avoid her. She screams in frustration, then in pain as she turns into
Tarantulas without the aid of the usual catalyst.
Blackarachnia/Tarantulas: What is this? Are you drones afraid to hit
a girl? Attack me! Hurt me, dammit!
The drones continue to stay out of his/her way. Blackarachnia (as
Tarantulas) flails at empty air as each attack fails to connect with its
intended target. Her/His efforts only succeed in an inattentive drone
clipping one of his/her spider legs. As s/he aims with a poison missile,
s/he's wracked with another flash of pain, turning back into
Blackarachnia. She throws down the arm that had been holding the now
Blackarachnia: Oh, what the hell's the point?
Meanwhile, the other Maximals have their hands full. Botanica,
unable to take the time to transform, is slowly becoming overwhelmed with the
barrage. It's just then that a very pissed off Blackarachnia comes to the rescue.
Blackarachnia: Primus damn it! I'm sick of this! <shoots
webbing at two drones, transforming into Tarantulas> I'm sick of only ever
having enough dialogue to overstate the obvious... <Turning back into
Blackarachnia, shocks a few drones behind Botanica> I'm sick of finishing
other people's sentences... <lassos a drone in Vehicle mode and sends it
careening into three more on Nightscream's tail> And most of all... I am SICK
<blows up one drone> and TIRED <kicks another> of DOTING <punches
another in the face and watches its "teeth" fall out> over that
egotistic, self-centered <shoots Nightscream in the wing>, brooding DUNDERHEAD!
<Turns back into Tarantulas> I used to be a loner, a free-spirited girl.
The remaining drones run away. After a flash of pain, Blackarachnia
returns to her reformatted self.
Blackarachnia: <begins shaking uncontrollably> Being in love with Silverbolt was fun because it was
dangerous. Now... it's just tedious. Maybe it's high time
Blackarachnia started living for Blackarachnia again.
Lightning strikes behind the newly-constructed high school, and Obsidian
begins clapping slowly. Another lightning strike and the other Maximals
are being held by the remaining drones, either incapacitated or too tired to
fight back. Obsidian floats closer to Blackarachnia, who's not feeling too
Blackarachnia: It looks like it's just you and me, now. <drawing
herself into fighting stance> Shall we get this over with?
Obsidian: <still clapping> That was a truly marvelous display, my
dark dove. Truly marvelous. You are certainly deserving... of...
Allowing herself a moment to slack, Blackarachnia straightens as Obsidian
throws something faster than she can see. She shoots a web at it and
catches it out of the air, stopping the attack of the deadly...
Blackarachnia: ... flowers?
Obsidian: I am Obsidian, the Black Thunder of Cybertropolis High!
Blackarachnia looks up, completely dumbfounded.
Obsidian: <slowly leaving> Pigtailed girl... I love you.
Blackarachnia's face nearly falls off. It's just then
(unsurprisingly) that it starts to rain. Blackarachnia morphs into
Tarantulas, unmoving, as the rain begins to disintegrate the makeshift place of
education standing before her/him. S/he watches as Obsidian floats away,
slowly becoming lost to vision in the sudden downpour.
Blackarachnia/Tarantulas: ... the hell?
<The Manhole of Doom -- the Vehicons' Former Favorite Hangout>
Triceradon: What's this?
Striker: <pokes it with his weapon> It looks like a tank drone head,
<looks around> and some playing cards.
Thrust, going back to the one place he has left (and hoping to play a
stimulating game of Go Fish with Tankorr's head), is shocked to discover that
his once private hangout has been overrun.
Thrust: No no no no no! This is not happening. This is NOT
happening! <to Dinobots> Hey, you, get away from there!
The Dinobots glance over their game of cards to the Vehicon.
T-Wrecks: Airraptor, if you please.
Airraptor: Sure thing, boss.
Without even looking away from his hand, Airraptor fires a volley of shots
at Thrust. Having nowhere to take cover, he has no choice but to retreat.
Thrust: This isn't the last of it you filthy animals! My revenge is
slow but sure! I--
A well-placed grenade by Triceradon efficiently silences the
annoyance. Thrust, too scrapped to move, signals for his drones...
Thrust: Drones: emergency evacuate...
... and passes out.
<Back at the former site of Cybertropolis High>
Blackarachnia/Tarantulas: <staring at flowers> Tell me this isn't
As if to spite her/him, Stryka comes rolling in seconds later. She
transforms and begins to skate towards the Predacon/Maximal. The rain
hasn't shown any signs of giving up yet. Blackarachnia drops the flowers
and prepares to fight. Fighting, however, seems to be the furthest thing from
Stryka: I see you got my note.
Blackarachnia/Tarantulas: What note?
Stryka hands her/him a note.
Blackarachnia/Tarantulas: <reading> "Meet me by the
Cybertropolis High courtyard after school..." <throwing the note on the
ground> ... what the hell is this? I don't think I can deal with any
more craziness today.
Stryka: I would date with you.
Blackarachnia/Tarantulas: You WHAT!?
Stryka: <looks at flowers on ground> For me? <bends over
and picks them up> You shouldn't have...
As if on cue, a condor comes sweeping in out of the sky, and with it the
rain stops. Stryka transforms and drives away.
Stryka: <shouting as she leaves> Think about it...!
Silverbolt lands next to Blackarachnia and transforms. He pulls out
a canister and throws some cold water on her (to change her back from
Tarantulas, dum dum!).
Blackarachnia: <tearing out her pigtails> What are you doing here? You had no right to
interfere! I don't need you saving me; I could have handled this!
Silverbolt only raises an eyebrow, but he is more perturbed than he lets
Silverbolt: Blackarachnia, I only came to...
Blackarachnia: To what? Rescue me? Save me from the evil
dangerous world with which I am ill-equipped to cope? No thanks, Rover, I
don't want your pity. <turns around>
Silverbolt: <angered> What DO you want from me? Or is it even
me you want at all?
Blackarachnia: <turning back> What!?
Silverbolt: I've been noticing they way you've been leading on a certain
Dinobot commander. Need I remind you that he almost killed you?
Blackarachnia: <smirking> I thought it was kind of sweet...
Silverbolt: That's exactly what I'm talking about! What do I need to
do to prove myself to you so that you will stand by me until I am avenged?
Blackarachnia: It's not like that, Silverbolt! Your problems with
him are yours and yours alone. <backing off> I don't care whose rigid grill
structure is bigger!
Silverbolt's whole body droops as he looks down at the ground, his little
wing thingies sliding below his shoulders.
Blackarachnia edges a little closer.
Silverbolt: I-I only came here to
apologize. I guess that's out of the question, now.
Blackarachnia: You...? <letting down her
defenses> I'm sorry too, Silverbolt. It hasn't been a good day.
Silverbolt: Compare that to not having a good first season.
Blackarachnia: What is that supposed to mean?
Silverbolt: All that time I spent as Jetstorm! Plotting, scheming,
watching Pokémon. I don't expect you to forgive
me for it. For any of it...
Blackarachnia: Oh, don't be silly, Bowser...
Silverbolt: What I've done cannot be forgiven. I've betrayed you!
Blackarachnia: You only betrayed yourself! You can never betray me.
<turns away> But you can hurt me... All this time you've been
back, and we've never once...
Silverbolt: But what if I infect you with this terrible torrent of
self-loathing that permeates my very spark? I can't take that risk!
Blackarachnia: <trying to ignore the corny line> Is that all you're
Silverbolt: You don't know what it was like! Watching television for
hours on end! Following Megatron's orders! Being all "pal-y
pal-y" with Waspinator...
Blackarachnia: I was a Predacon once! We *both* were! Or have
Silverbolt: That was different. I wasn't programmed. I wasn't
brainwashed. You were.
Blackarachnia: And you forgive me for it? For being a Predacon?
Silverbolt: Blackarachnia -- there's nothing to forgive. You weren't
Blackarachnia: <frowning -- SEVERELY> Ooooh! Don't you get it
yet, Dunderhead? I *liked* being a bad girl. <edging closer> ... on
occasion, I still do. <pushing him away -- hard> How DARE you belittle me
with your constant display of self-pity.
Silverbolt: Blackarachnia... I--
Blackarachnia: Until you figure it out, just... just...
Blackarachnia turns around and hugs herself, trying to keep from crying.
Blackarachnia: Stay away from me.
Silverbolt, ignoring his first instinct to go to her, lowers his head and
begins to turn away as well. He doesn't see as Blackarachnia is hit by a
sudden flash of pain; he only hears her scream and hit the ground like a lead
Silverbolt: <spinning around> Blackarachnia!
>To be Continued
Next time on the Lost Episodes
Thrust: Is nothing sacred?
* * *
Tales of Cybertron, Part 3
The Last Autobot: Well, say something, young whippersnapper! I don't
have all stellar cycle...
Benny: >GUH!< Must.........purge you from this
planet...........it is my destiny.................make Cybertron pure
The Last Autobot watches Benny intently.
The Last Autobot: See, now that's never gonna do. We're gonna have
to-- Primus damn it all! Where in tarnation are my pills?
Benny: must destroy the kiddies....................make them
The Last Autobot: See, that's not helping. I need to find-- ah,
there they are.
Benny takes aim at The Last Autobot as he struggles with the lid.
The Last Autobot: Argh! Confound it! <handing pills to
Benny> Do you think you could give me a hand with these? You look like
a strong lad.
Still muttering to himself about saving the world, Benny takes the jar and
blasts it open with his customized tank drone cannon, then hands the smoking
container back to its owner.
The Last Autobot: <taking a few pills> Ah, you're a lifesaver,
lad. Here, have a couple yourself. You look as though you could use
Benny looks at the two giant pills in his hand, handed to him just moments
before by the old, battleworn geezer. After a moment's hesitation and
muttering, he downs them. The pallor of his skin caused by the effects of
the Key slowly,
but not completely, begins to return to normal. His eyes stop glowing, and
for the first time in what seems like forever, Benny relaxes.
Benny: <shakily> Are you... the Last Autobot?
The Last Autobot: The last? Yer damn right I'm the last one!
To tell you the truth, I always thought I would be. All the others would
go off on their own, and never listen to a damned thing I would say.
"Don't go in there! It's a trap." And they'd say things to
me like "oh, don't worry, you're just too cautious. We'll be fine,
old timer." Old timer?! Can you believe they called me that?
That's something they never got to be, I can tell you that much!
Benny sits down on the cold ground, and pops back a couple more
pills. He hasn't been this clearheaded in a while, and he wants it to last
as long as it possibly can. That's when he notices the old Autobot eyeing
The Last Autobot: You're a human, aren't you. I haven't seen a human
around these parts since Spike, Carly, and that damned little brat... Dogface. Or was it
Derek? Dunbar? My memory's not what it used
Benny: I'm a... power... master.
The Last Autobot: A POWER master! Ho! That was the day, now
wasn't it? Damned inefficient little bastards. They were completely
useless. I don't know what the hell Vector Sigma was thinking.
Benny: Vector... Sigma?
The Last Autobot: Vector who?
Benny ignored the old one's senility.
Benny: ... you had a... power master?
The Last Autobot: Oh, hell no! I had a target master. Damned
egotistical little pricks. I'm not used to having my gun talk back to me,
complain how cramped it was in the holster, or tell me that it "needs its
Benny: What, happened to him?
The Last Autobot: Little bugger died of old age. Target Maters...
load of Sharkticon crap, I
say. Now, I was fine, but what about all those others who were Headmasters
and Power Masters, eh? How do you think they felt when their organics
finally petered out? Last one... of course I'm the last one! All those
darned humans. How many fellow Autobots do you think Fortress Maximus took
out with him when he keeled over, eh? Ask me that!
Benny: I need you... to help save Cybertron... before the Maximals...
The Last Autobot: SAVE Cybertron? Son, I've saved Cybertron more
times than... well, more times that I can remember, that's for darn sure!
Benny: You don't say.
The old rust bucket points to the sky.
The Last Autobot: You see that up there? He's been up there forever,
plotting his revenge for what we did to him all those stellar cycles ago.
Don't remember what it was we pulled off exactly, but I can tell you that there
were an awful lot of casualties that day...
Unicron: The time is nigh. Soon, very soon, I shall avenge myself
for what those blasted children of Primus did to me all those stellar cycles
Marty Isenberg / Diagnostic Drone, Mark II: ...but I thought you said it
Unicron: Silence, infidel! With this new body, I shall wreak my
revenge upon the very essence of Primus himself. There will be no escape for
my old nemesis this time!
Marty Isenberg / Diagnostic Drone, Mark II: You've been saying that all season.
Unicron: Don't rush me, infidel! These things take time...
>To be continued?