Cyclonus POV
You slam the door open, damn it's good to be home. While taking in the glorious site of you awesome home you realise it's not so awesome as when you left this morning. It would seem Whirl has gotten home before you. It's not the guns hung up around the house that give it away, its the fricking heelies. He's bought a new pair...it's the worst elements of design all combined into one cluster of hell. Bright blue, glitter caked, with pinning neon orange rims...seriously, on shoes? You'r day just took a 90 degree turn from sheet (like metal haha) to candyland, and you fricking hate candy. Caramel gets stuck in your weird teeth it's freaking annoying everytime Whirl wants some carmeled popcorn. Seriously who the hell invented carmel popcorn? It's the most metal backwards thing.
You contemplate mentally complaining more when suddenly you hear Whirl in the kitchen, knocked everything over into his fan stomach, therefor anialating it. You hesitate breifly before stepping into the kicthen, then take the plunge. You're there, and then immediatly rocked like a hurricane because dear god why did he turn around. The guy has a fricking nuclear fan for a torso and he's blowing you away, literally. You don't find his fan attractive in the least...you'de never tell him though.
"Hey babe," He squeals in a high pitched voice. "Did you miss me? Think about me at work today at all?" You gotta admit you love the way his fan degrades all of his speech. Makes it easier to block out the crap, but when he dirty talks it's the best accent.
"Almost, but then I didn't give a metal sheet cause I have that stupid christmas photo of us in daimond turtleneck sweaters drilled into my work desk. Since SOMEONE thought it'd be romantic. So I could never ever forget about us hun. No matter how hard I try." You drawl back to him in your deepest robot-texan accent, which is how you normally talk anyways. Not like you make an effort to sound MORE texan for him, really, you totally don't.
"Ah, well thats lovely." He replies, then turns around. Thank god, you were getting windburn on the remains of your missing horn. You can't tell if he's genuine, or on a whole nother level of sarcasm.
"Well...I'm gonna go Keep Up With the Kardashians then," and with that badass like you turn to leave. But then it hits you...why is Whirl of all people cooking?! Why is Whirl speaking with such sass today? He must be baking his favourite treat, You storm back in the kitchen.
Slamming you'r hands down on the back counter, "What do you think your friggin' doing!" You'r drawl is so deep you could throw Optimus's blood on it with some pepperoni and call it a deep pan pizza.
He turns around, with that shit eating grin of his. "Oh just baking, you'r favourite even, it's..." he slowly hisses the next part "carmeled POPcorn", he actually made a pop sound affect. You're so done with him.