Hey everyone! I know I should be working on my Lord of the Rings fanfic, Naneth, but... *shrugs* This seemed like a quick activity. That took two days to complete. Oh well. First one-shot ever! Please tell me if I did this well, horribly, ok, etc.

Also, I think that this classifies as K, but I'm paranoid of rating something too low, so if this needs to be Kplus just tell me and I'll fix it.

Ok, so... what if some of the G1 Autobots onlined from a (maybe forced) recharge and found themselves in our universe? What if they found themselves as their plastic toy counterparts? What if some Transfan found them in his/her bedroom? What if... you see where this is going. I don't know; we'll just have to see what happens.

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Lord of the Rings, Disney, Marvel, How It Should Have Ended, Lego, Star Wars, or any other references I decide to throw in. I own my OCs, and that's about it. Sadly.

Prowl's logic drives threatened to crash as he surveyed the room he suddenly found himself laying in. The very, very big room he had abruptly onlined in. The room that belonged to something absolutely gigantic for it to be this large. A sixteenth of the city of Praxus might be able to fit in this one enclosed space, if the room were to be emptied of its current furnishings.

But it wan't entirely the size of the room that bothered him. It was more of what the room was. He was currently sitting on a giant, soft, rainbow-patterned cloth positioned on top of a huge cushion, putting Prowl at a certain height above the ground that did not allow the thought of jumping to seriously cross his processor. To the right of this surface was a pale yellow wall. On this wall was a large, white board with various writing, scribbles, and pictures on it. To Prowl's left was a cluttered desk of some sort just within leaping distance. Beside that was another wall, upon which was mounted a map titled "Middle Earth." Then, if he continued to survey the room in a clockwise order, Prowl saw a pile of smaller (but still abnormally large) cushions, what the humans called a dresser, then a door, then a corner, followed by a closet, bookshelf, corner, window, and back to the white board.

He was in a human bedroom. A giant human bedroom.

One of Prowl's logic drives failed and was forced to reboot as the others busily tried to compute some possible explanations. Several possibilities emerged but were quickly shot down due to an extreme lack in data. He sighed to himself, "I need all of the variables."

Optimus Prime glanced around, trying to find who had spoken, turning on his headlights to see better in the dark. Ironhide, who was beside him, shrugged and did the same, remarking, "That sounded like Prowl."

The two Autobots were currently in some sort of dark labrynth-like structure with a soft ground made of some type of rope and a ceiling of wood. The walls were really just piles of random, long-forgotten objects that the duo were afraid to tunnel through lest they should bring the structure tumbling down on top of them. These objects appeared to be giant variations of human items, such as an old CD-player or a stuffed toy.

Prowl must have heard Ironhide speak, for the voice called out inquisitively, "Ironhide? I do not see you. State your location."

"Our location is unclear, Prowl," Optimus answered, announcing his presence. "Can you state yours?"

"Yes, sir. I appear to standing on a giant human bed," Prowl informed helpfully. Optimus and Ironhide exchanged looks. Where did that put them?

"Remain where you are. We will rendezvous with you once we learn of our own location," Optimus decided, climbing over a baseball bat. They needed to find a way out of there, quickly. It could be a Deception trap.

Perceptor and Mirage could hear a muffle conversation from underneath some squishy object burying them. They only knew of each other's presence because the object allowed just enough room to turn their heads and scattered the light of their headlights just enough to illuminate their immediate surroundings. The two could see that the object trading them was white and furry, and the object they were pinned against (which they suspected to be the floor) was made of some rope-like material.

Preceptor attempted to contact someone - preferably Optimus - and explain their situation via comm, but the comm refused to work. Mirage grimaced, "Communications are down, aren't they?"

"Well, yes, but it may just be a fluctuation in the electromagnetic radiation that-"

"Perceptor, I don't know what that means," Mirage informed him blankly. "We just need to get out of here."

Perceptor bit back his silent frustration at being interrupted easily; he was used to it by now. Beside, they did need to find a way out of there. Preceptor tested the furry object's strength as Mirage attempted to contact a fellow autobot on his own comm. The object wasn't too heavy, but it was enough to prevent them from lifting any of their appendages. But maybe...

Perceptor slid his servos against the ground to a position above his head. Then he ever so slowly pulled himself along, as if he were a human swimming. Mirage caught sight of his actions and stared for a moment, but he quickly adopted the idea, and soon they were heading... somewhere. Despite this lack of knowledge, the two continued to "swim" earnestly, fervently hoping that the voices they had heard didn't belong to Decepticons.

Jazz and Bumblebee were also trapped, this time between a rock and a hard place. Literally. Bumblebee was pinned to a wooden wall by a giant book about minerals. While Beachcomber might have found the situation a bit more amusing, the younger 'bot was not having any fun. Jazz was likewise unamused, but he kept that to himself as he tried to simultaneously guide them out of their predicament and determine where the others were based on the direction of their voices. Prowl sounded as though he was a good distance in front of them, and Optimus and Ironhide were in front and below, possibly behind something judging by how muddled their speech was.

Jazz, being the Special Ops 'bot that he was, managed to pull himself onto the giant book holding him down (an "Ultimate Character Guide to Marvel's The Avengers). He carefully avoided wedging himself between the book and the wooden ceiling and inched himself to the outer edge on the bookshelf, looking down. The ground wasn't too far...

Who was he kidding? They would have to climb down. But at least Jazz could spot Prowl from up there. "Hey, Prowler!"

"Jazz! Do not call me Prowler!" the tactician scowled, although Jazz knew that his friend was glad to see him. He just liked to hide it. In response, Jazz smiled cheerily, "Whatevah you say, Prowl. Optimus, Ironhide, where are ya?"

"I am not certain," Optimus's voice calmly informed. "Where are you?"

"On some giant bookshelf," Jazz explained casually. Bumblebee's inquiring voice interrupted anything else Jazz was about to say, "Uh, Jazz? I'm still stuck."

"Ah'm comin', Bee," Jazz promised, sidling back to the smaller 'bot. He let his hand dangle over the rim of the character guide, grasping Bumblebee's outstretched servo and hauling him the top of the mineral book. Bumblebee nodded in relieved gratitude, "Thanks, Jazz."

"No problem, Bee. Now let's book-it outta here," Jazz replied, army-crawling towards the precipice. "I hope yah know how ta climb..."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were forced online by a sudden pitch of the ground, followed by an increase in the gravitational pull of the earth, a sudden decrease, a moment of falling, and finally the twins slamming into something soft. Sunstreaker's response time was faster than Sideswipe's, "My paint!"

"Quit whining about your paint! Where are we?"

"How should I know? I can't see a thing!" Sunstreaker complained, turning on his headlights at the exact moment Sideswipe turned on his. Their mouths dropped open simultaneously and Sunstreaker's engine gave a soft whine when they were confronted with the enlarged contents of a human femme's storage unit (aka, her purse). Makeup. Was. Everywhere. So were the mints and metal coins. Sideswipe spotted a few keys, some candy, a pack of chewing gum, hair ties, glasses, and other random items that he wasn't sure he could identify among all of the useless debris. Was that an animal...?

"GET US OUT OF HERE!" Sideswipe screeched in horror, clawing at the fabric walls. Sunstreaker rolled his eyes. It wasn't the end of the world. "Sideswipe, calm down. We can get out of here if we just-"

Sunstreaker's speech was cut off as he stared down at his frame in absolute disgust. Sideswipe, in his haste, had knocked over a giant bottle of glitter that had somehow managed to open and spill all of its contents onto Sunstreaker's pristine, shiny yellow paint job. The yellow Autobot slowly raised his gaze, pinning his brother immediately like a predator. Sideswipe even managed to pull of the deer-in-a-headlight look as he stuttered, "Uh... S- Sunny?"

With a growl, Sunstreaker stalked towards Sideswipe, looking positively animal-like. The irrational part of Sideswipe almost convinced him to begin narrating like one of those nature shows, 'Watch as the Sunstreakerus angrius slowly traps its prey, cutting off all chances of escape. It was over for the red Awesomus roboticus. Soon, it will become nothing more than a pile of scrap metal for the infamous Ratchetus medicus to rebuild into a toaster. Or perhaps fate really did hate him, and his remains would be given to the nefarious Wheeljackus eplodicus, where he will be remade into an accidental bomb.'

The smaller, underutilized, sane portion of Sideswipe's processor took over, and the red mech was soon sprinting around the small, cluttered space and bouncing off of the fabric walls in an attempt to evade death, screaming at the top of his vocalizer, "HEEEEEEEELP MEEEEEEEEE!"

Sunstreaker let out a war cry, pouncing onto his brother quickly in the confined area, glitter trailing behind him like fairy dust. Sideswipe was quickly pinned to the ground after a short tussle, the light from his headlights bouncing off of the glittery mech holding him down to create little light patterns on the walls. Sunstreaker looked ready to murder Sideswipe as he demanded, "Do you know how hard it is to get rid of this stuff!?"

The irrational part of Sideswipe was slowly regaining control, making the red mech grin mischievously, "All you need is a little faith, trust, and pixie dust!"

Sunstreaker let out a feral yell and tried to unsubspace a sword, optics hard and cold. But no sword appeared. He tried to unsubspace a gun, his anger forcing him to roll with it. But he apparently had no weapons, temporarily exchanging his hate for surprise. This feeling of confusion trickled over their bond, curtesy of being twins, and Sideswipe wondered if Sunstreaker had decided not to kill him after all. But the moment passed and the yellow mech simply curled his servo into a tight fist, glaring back into his brother's optics. Sideswipe's spark seemed to drop with the full realization of his end. He was going to be offlined by his own brother. To be honest, he probably should have seen this coming. Especially when Sunstreaker growled, "Any last words?"

"Yeah. I never expected to fall at the servos of a disco ball," Sideswipe laughed before he could stop himself. Sunstreaker was livid, but before he could smash his brother into a thousand tiny metal bits the ground lurched, upsetting both bots' balance. Sunstreaker was the most affected, the sudden change in momentum throwing him onto his side. Sideswipe, meanwhile, was already on the ground, so he used the sudden distraction to roll onto his front and transform into his alternate mode, speeding away from his brother with a mad cry of, "You'll never catch me alive, Sunny!"

Oh, what brotherly love...

Lauren and Taylor leapt out of the car, Taylor's mother calling after their retreating forms, "Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes! Don't get too busy!"

"We won't!" Taylor promised, barely having enough time to answer her mom before the front door was shut and the two best friends were halfway up the stairs. Lauren's purse swung wildly as they bounced into the entertainment room and practically launched themselves at the television. To say that they were excited was an understatement. Both twelve-year-olds were absolutely ecstatic about the newest Marvel movie about to come out, and there was a sneak peek playing on Disney Channel right at the very moment. Lauren reached the TV first, turning it on with such speed that the Flash wouldn't be able to see her movements, and soon the duo were sitting down on the floor, faces seemingly mere inches away from the screen. Lauren whined a little when the television took its time powering on and loading, but finally...

"And that has been the sneak peek for Marvel's new movie, Captain America: Civil War, hitting theaters May sixth," some lady's voice proclaimed before the scene switched from Iron Man, Captain America, and Bucky Barnes duking it out to a commercial for Sofia the First. All Taylor could do was stare at the screen in disbelief as Lauren shouted angrily, "NO! That can't be right! Come back on!"

But Disney Channel had a different plan, and the Sofia the First commercial soon changed to an episode of Jake and the Neverland Pirates. Taylor turned the screen off and bitterly joked to her best friend, "Curse you, Disney. You're supposed to make dreams come true."

"Don't curse Disney!" Lauren exclaimed, looking absolutely scandalized and horror-struck. Taylor laughed, momentarily forgetting her disappointment. Lauren was a huge Disney fan. You couldn't say a word against it around her.

"How about we watch some YouTube videos? I think that I left my computer in my room," Taylor suggested. Perhaps they could find the sneak peek on there. It was worth a shot, and if not then they could entertain themselves with How It Should Have Ended videos. Lauren, likely happy to distract herself, picked up her purse and nodded cheerily, "Ok!"

With that, the two girls skipped to the end of the hall and opened the door. Taylor entered first and immediately knew that something was off. A G1 Prowl transformers toy was standing on her queen-size bed, staring right at them. But she didn't own any Transformers toys. 'Must be James's,' she told herself, impressed that her little brother had managed to get it to stand up on the soft surface. Then the toy fell over limply, and anger kicked in. Her little brother had disobeyed the one rule she cared for the most: never enter her room!

"I can't believe this!" Taylor exclaimed, marching up to her bed and staring at the plastic toy. Lauren asked worriedly from somewhere behind her, "What? Is something wrong?"

"James has been in my room, and he left his toy on my bed!" Taylor informed vehemently. She had one rule, and he broke it. Only one way to disrespect her as a sister and friend, and he did it anyways. Anger and betrayal roiled up inside her. 'Now I know a little about how God felt when Eve ate the fruit.'

'You're overreacting,' she told herself, taking deep breaths and checking to make sure that nothing in her room had been significantly disturbed. Lauren watched on warily, remarking calmly, "I didn't know that he owned any Transformers."

"Neither did I," Taylor admitted blankly, still glancing around. Nothing seemed to have been moved in the slightest, making her suspicious.

"Maybe one of his friends did it?"

Taylor paused for a moment at the possibility, then shook her head, "No, he hasn't had any friends over in at least a week. And before you ask, Mom and Dad know that I don't have any Transformers toys."

"Perhaps it's a gift? I can see your Dad doing this as a surprise."

No Taylor's anger disappeared almost completely. It would be just like him to do that. It was, at the very least, the most logical explanation, and since it banished any reason to be mad and ruin her day, she went with it. Gingerly picking up the action figure, she grinned at Lauren, "Want to play? We could get the Legos out and have that General Grievous action figure play as Megatron."

"Sure!" Lauren exclaimed, throwing her purse onto Taylor's bed. They were about to run off to the playroom with toy Prowl when a voice called out, "They're kidnapping Prowl!"

The two best friends stopped in their tracks and whirled around, Taylor dropping into a karate stance and Lauren glancing towards her purse and the pepper spray inside. They couldn't see anyone, but considering that both of them had heard the noise...

'I knew James was behind this,' Taylor thought, but that couldn't be right. The voice that had spoken didn't belong to her brother. James's voice was higher-pitched, younger, and appropriate for a first-grader. So who had spoken? Lauren bravely called out from her position slightly behind Taylor, "Come out and show yourself! Her dad has a gun and a killer aim!"

Thirty seconds passed, seeming like a lifetime for the two girls. Eventually, they glanced at each other, Lauren giving a maybe-we-just-imagined-it shrug. Taylor shook her head and gave her a disbelieving, at-the-same-time-isn't-likely look. Slowly, she crept forward, Lauren backing her up. Ever so carefully, she scanned the room for possible hiding places. Under her bed was out; it was too cluttered with junk. There weren't enough pillows piled beside her dresser to even fully hide herself; she had tried in multiple games of hide-and-seek. The only place left was her closet.

Taylor motioned for Lauren to get her pepper spray, gently set Prowl down on top of her dresser, and cautiously tip-toed to her slightly ajar closet door, fear-fueled adrenaline pumping through her veins. She remembered the 12th Doctor's words, 'Fear is a superpower...,' and quoted the Bible, 'I will protect you from all harm...'

Taylor jerked open the door to reveal nothing aside from the usual clothes and shoes. She scratched her head and turned to Lauren, who was just opening her purse, "Maybe we did jus-"

"AAH!" Lauren screamed as two little figures leapt out of her purse and began to chase each other around, screaming insults at each other. Taylor grabbed her friend's arm and pulled her away, "What are those?"

"How should I know?" Lauren demanded, freaking out.

"They came out of your purse! What are you keeping in there?!" Taylor shouted back, wide eyes glued to the two little fighting things. They were as big as the Prowl toy and humanoid in build. One was covered in glitter and the other was red. Both were shouting at each other in rapid-fire, so neither girl could understand what they had said. Taylor turned towards the door, ready to lock those things in her bedroom until Mom or Dad could get a good look at them, but stopped as she spotted another figure climbing up her dresser like a ninja, approximately the same size as the others and white with a blue and red stripe. Lauren spotted it, too, and tripped over herself, falling on her behind. Grateful that the floor was carpet, Taylor bent down to quickly help her friend up when she spotted a yellow figure, smaller than the rest, crouched on top of her book on minerals. She could clearly see its face and the two warns on the sides of its head...

Everything clicked into place so suddenly that Taylor temporarily lost control over her actions. She watched as her hands acted of their own accord, slamming the bedroom door shut and locking it, picking up Bumblebee and quickly depositing him on her bed, grabbing a glittery Sunstreaker and placing him on the bookshelf, and finally shouting, "EVERYBODY STOP!"

Everyone did as they were told, even Sunstreaker, who was still glaring at his brother. Nobody made a sound as Taylor's autonomy slowly returned, leaving her wondering what to do next. She looked at each 'bot in turn, then turned to Lauren, "Um... you can get up, if you want."

Lauren took this as an invitation to start rattling off questions, "Oh my goodness, Transformers! How did you get here? Can you still transform? Do your weapons still work? Are the Decepticons here? Can I meet Megatron? Where's Optimus? Is he here? Wh-"

"That's enough. I think that we should only ask one question at a time," Taylor suggested, looking around the room for other Cybertronians. She quickly found Perceptor and Mirage under her pile of pillows after first searching the closet and quickly put them on her bed with the others. She didn't want to check under her bed, but Optimus's baritone, fatherly voice called out worryingly from that direction, "Prowl, Jazz, is everyone all right?"

"Yes, sir, Prime," Jazz answered from his perch on the dresser, supervising the rebooting Prowl. Apparently, all of his logic dives had crashed upon Taylor and Lauren's arrival, which had made him go limp and glitch - the Cybertronian equivalent of fainting. Good thing Taylor had been gentle.

"Where are you, Optimus Prime... sir?" Taylor asked, looking around for the red and blue leader of the Autobots. Please don't be under her bed please don't be-

"I appear to be in some sort of unintentional labyrinth," he replied calmly. Ironside's voice elaborated, "What in Primus's name do you keep under here? Hey, I think that I found another organic!"

"What are the chances that it's just a dust bunny?" Lauren asked, her face some confusing mixture of horror and amusement. Taylor's eyes just about popped out of her head as she remembered their "science project" from three years back, "DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING!"

"This can't be good," Lauren laughed, turning on her phone's flashlight to look for the two missing Autobots. Less than a second later, she was crawling away from the bed, exaggerating her horrified gasps of air and startled, fearful expression, "What animals live under there?"

"The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles," Taylor deadpanned. "Now can we just get them out? It wouldn't surprise be if the lost colony of Roanoke was down there."

"Teenage Mutant Ninja something," Lauren mumbled loudly. Taylor ignored her and began selecting Autobots for a search-and-rescue mission, "Jazz will lead Mirage, Perceptor, Sideswipe, and Sunstreaker to-"

"Sunny hates me right now," Sideswipe pointed out. Sunstreaker growled at his brother in confirmation from where he was sitting on the bookshelf, trying to scrape the glitter off of his paint. Taylor glanced at Lauren, both thinking the same thing. Without a word, Taylor picked up the yellow mech and marched out of the room towards the bathroom to clean him off. With that taken care of, Lauren gave the now four selected bots a debriefing, pacing back and forth like a televised military sergeant, "I'm going to be blunt with you, gents. Nobody - man or 'bot - has successfully made it in and out of the forbidden zone: taylor's bed. I know what you may be thinking. How in the world will we make it out alive? I do not know. To increase your chances of making it out alive, I give you these instructions: touch nothing. Do I make myself clear?"

The four Autobots looked at each other, some nervous and other downright confused. Sideswipe eventually spoke up, "Um, I have a question."

"Good! Now get going!" Lauren saluted with a flourish before scooping them all up and quickly pushing them under the bed. Bumblebee, one of the only 'bots not on the mission, warily asked, "Is it really that bad?"

Lauren grinned playfully, "Nah, I was just-"

"OH PRIMUS SOMETHING'S TOUCHING ME GET IT OFF GET IT OFF!" Sideswipe screeched, cutting Lauren off. The human girl exchanged newly worried looks with the young Autobot and called out, "Is everything ok?"

Optimus and Ironhide also joined in in voicing their concerns. Their concerns were inadvertently answered when Perceptor curiously piped up amid Sideswipe's panicked venting. "Fascinating. I was not aware that penicillin had oral cavities."

"Ah don't think that's natural," Jazz spoke up. Lauren moved Bumblebee up to the dresser with Prowl, who was beginning to stir, and then poked her head out of the door, "Taylor, does penicillin stuff have mouths? Because if not I could really use some help!"

"Does what have what?" Taylor called back, pausing in her scrubbing of Sunstreaker. She got no response and, poking her head out of the bathroom door, surmised that Lauren had retreated back into the bedroom to sort something out. Worry gripped her heart for her friend and the Cybertronians under her bed. Quickly, she brushed the rest of the glitter off of Sunstreaker and roughly dried him off, prompting a classic "watch the paint" remark. Taylor picked him back up and ran into her bathroom, explaining irritably, "You're made of colored plastic now. I doubt that I could scratch your paint."

They reached Taylor's bedroom right as Lauren began screaming, "I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH ANYTHING!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Just get us out of here!" Sideswipe was yowling. Mirage's voice came up, "It's only a cluster of... fluff. I believe that the humans refer to it as a dust bunny."

"IT'S ALIVE!"

"You mean that something can actually live down there?" Lauren called back, appearing to be increasingly worried. Sunstreaker fidgeted in Taylor's hand at Sideswipe's terrified screaming, clearly torn between love for his brother and love of his un-glittered paint. With a scowl, he turned to a shocked Taylor, "If you're not right about my paint, then I'll kill both you and 'Sides. Now put me down!"

So Taylor obeyed and, after several more minutes of wild shouting claiming that something or another was moving and/or trying to devour the rescue team - and even more concerned questions from Optimus and Ironhide, the team found the two and sprinted out of what will forever be known as the "Forbidden Zone," vowing loudly that whoever got stuck in there next was on their own. Prowl, who had been unconscious for most of this terrifying episode, sent Jazz a curious glance. The special ops 'bot only shook his helm, "Don't ask, Prowler. Ah don't want ta relive it."

"Well now that that's over," Lauren perked up as if nothing had happened, gently placing each shell-shocked Autobot onto the bed, "How about we play a game?"

Bumblebee, the youngest and one of two 'bots not dramatized by a journey into the Forbidden Zone, happily agreed to the activity. Everyone else... not so much. And since Taylor really didn't fit into the role of "comforter" very well, Lauren had to stay and slowly ease each hardened warrior out of the mental coma they had fallen into. While she did this, Taylor took on the role of the interrogator, "Who else is here?"

"I don't know," Prowl answered honestly. Bumblebee shrugged beside him, "I don't think so. We were the only ones in the room when Wheeljack's do-hickey exploded."

'Ah, so the fanfics have some truth to them,' Taylor mused. She couldn't help but smile, "So... do his inventions blow up often?"

"Yes," they answered at the same time, prompting the human to chuckle a bit. Other fanfic-inspired questions popped into her head and, instead of asking more important questions, she entertained herself until Lauren had the other Autobots satisfyingly de-tramatized. In the course of the next few minutes, she learned that Ratchet did not throw wrenches, although that may be because he was a lot nicer in G1; Optimus Prime did, in fact, have a mouth; so did Wheeljack; seeker wings were indeed sensitive; to the Autobots' knowledge, Soundwave did not have a face; no, the likelihood of Soundwave being a femme was minimal; and they were not aware that Starscream had high heels, which Taylor forgot was part of the Prime continuity. She was stopped short of learning how Cybertronian babies were made when Optimus Prime came-to and interrupted Prowl's response, "That will do for now, Prowl. We have more urgent matters to discuss."

"They're good now," Lauren reported happily. "All it took was a brief explanation on why we have teddy bears and a few peanuts."

Taylor decided not to ask about the peanuts. Instead, she let Lauren take over the questioning, "All right! So can you guys transform?"

In response, everyone except for Sunstreaker and Sideswipe tested if they still had that ability. The answer was an affirmative, although Perceptor seemed a little confused about how big his alternate mode was now. Apparently, the eighties didn't contain any microscopes the size of cars. Who knew?

"That's not all we can do," Sideswipe promised as the others switched back to bipedal mode. He turned to Mirage and motioned for him to do something. He smiled indulgently, and the two human girls waited eagerly for something to happen - preferably for Mirage to disappear. After a moment, Mirage's smile turned into a frown, "I can't do it."

"What do ya mean?" Jazz asked. Mirage only shook his head, looking heartbroken, "I can no longer turn invisible."

"We can't access our weapons, either," Sunstreaker added. "I tried earlier when I tried to offline Sideswipe."

"Well, you guys are the plastic, toy variations now," Lauren pointed out. "But hey! Taylor and I can probably rig something up-"

"Wait, what?" Taylor sputtered. She was fully ignored by Lauren, who didn't skip a beat, "-for you to use as a weapon. I mean, we've made other things-"

"We have?"

"-like this before, we just have to downsize a little-"

"A little? Lauren, we-"

"-and BAM! You have new weapons," Lauren finished with a smile. Taylor barely kept herself from face-palming. The most they had ever built was a Lego set, for which they had instructions, and James usually broke them afterwards. But as Lauren had managed to get some 'bot's - ahem, Bumblebee's - hopes up, Taylor was forced to agree to the task on the condition that Perceptor had to supervise - ahem, help. After about an hour, they came back with mini pea-shooters, a few small knives, a blaster that fires crafting beads, a couple glue-grenades, an actual flamethrower that Perceptor had made, a doggie-whistle-turned-eardrum-torture-device, an overpowered laser pointer Perceptor invented that could and did singe a stone countertop (curtesy of Lauren), a grapple gun, and an acid-pellet gun that was also made by Perceptor. All Perceptor-made items somehow managed to sneak past Taylor after she had turned away the grenades that actually exploded fire. Both twelve-year-olds were eternally grateful that Taylor's mother had been at the store instead of in the kitchen at that time. Most of the items had a certain redneck, ghetto style that always came with improvisation.

"All right!" Sideswipe exclaimed happily as the Autobots each began to sort through the weapons, picking out those most similar to the ones they had back in the eighties. Ironed looked most pleased to have weapons again, spouting out a few odd analogies like "buff me with a blow torch" or "I'll be a Camaro's uncle." Only three problems remained, one of which was voiced by Optimus Prime immediately after all of the weapons had been sorted, "We require a place to stay until we can create a way back home."

"Simple! You can just stay at either me or Taylor's house!" Lauren volunteered. Taylor tried not to flinch at her friend's grammatical error as the other two problems presented themselves: how to keep them hidden and how to keep the house intact.

So was that good? ... No? Too long, bad ending, what was it? I messed up the characters, didn't I? *sigh* Well, it was my first one-shot, so I think I did well compared to a few out there. Sorry for the cliffhanger. I thought that it would be a good ending. Ya' know, let your imagination wonder, "What's next?"

Anyway, I would appreciate feedback so that I can make my next one better than this! Hope it wasn't a waste of your time! :)