<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 Stryka--

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 building.

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 somewhat depressed.

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 look.

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.

Obsidian: Weird.

<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 way.

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 should be.

Silverbolt: Uhh...

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?

Blackarachnia: What?

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 any water.

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 left!

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.

<flashback>

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!  We are 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 mistaken.

Primal: <starts dancing> Lookit!  Look at the silly dancing monkey!  Oook oook!

</flashback>

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 not 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 right now...

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.

Nightscream: Huh?

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, spider lady?

Blackarachnia: <backhands Nightscream> Shut up, kid.  You bother me.

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 nonexistent weapon.

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.  Untrustworthy.  Deadly...

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 well herself.

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... THIS!

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.

Dinotron: Interesting...

<Nearby>

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 happening...

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's mind.

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 on.

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 worried about?

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 you forgotten?

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 yourself...

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 weight.

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 again............kiddie.

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 apologize..........................

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 some.

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 him.

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 to be.

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 space."

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...

Benny: Riiiiight...

<In orbit>

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 ago!

Marty Isenberg / Diagnostic Drone, Mark II: ...but I thought you said it was--

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...

Galvatron: BWAAAAAAAAAAA!

>To be continued?