Cheetor growled in frustration. Frustration, that would soon be at an end. The Commander had said that the masquerade was over, there was no saving the situation now. "Look kid," Rattrap was saying. "I know you think you're hot stuff but leave this mission to the bots that..."
Cheetor snapped. The next thing anyone knew he had Rattrap up against a wall, pinned. "You have no idea what I'm capable of." Everyone went stock still as they saw a tool, cruel looking and evil, appear in the kid's hand that wasn't holding Rattrap firmly to the wall. He held it up before Rattrap's optics. "I am sick, and tired of your bullshit! I'm no kid. I'm not inexperienced." The tool pressed against Rattrap's neck, right where a small tube sent precious mech fluid to his processor. "And...I'm not naive. The number of times I could have killed you over the course of the Beast Wars is. In. The. THOUSANDS." He then turned to the others. "All of you! And I'm fed up! Fed up with all of it!"