Knockout made no attempts to hide his boredom as he watched Vehicons bustle back and forth. Supervisor duty was always dull. Normally he would have handed it off to the nearest subordinate, but Starscream had been adamant that Knockout himself oversee this inventory—punishment for his latest racing excursion, no doubt. If Breakdown were here, he'd at least have someone to talk to, but the big lug was off scouting an energon trail. Knockout vented in disgust. It was going to be a long few hours…
CRASH!
The splintering sound made Knockout jump.
"What in Cybertron was that?!" He snapped, optics darting around the room for the source of the disturbance. He quickly found it: a group of Vehicons hovering around the shattered crate they'd dropped. The equipment inside sat haphazardly on the floor, sparking slightly. Knockout stalked toward them. All attention turned towards the guilty drones, who trembled noticeably as the medic approached.
"I'm sorry, sir," One of the drones stuttered, failing to his anxiety. "The crate was damaged already and it shifted and we couldn't hold it, it was an accident, sir—"
The drone jumped as Knockout casually brought out his buzz saw. He stumbled backward into the damaged piece of equipment, his servo slamming down on the control panel's keyboard. A cacophonous noise blared from the machine.
Knockout paused, his intimidation game forgotten. He didn't recognize the machine, but he was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to make that sound. What had the drop done to it? Nudging the Vehicon aside, Knockout tapped one of the control panel keys. A pure note rang through the air. He tapped another and it produced a slightly lower tone. The next key emitted an even lower one.
Knockout's optics widened as a thought occurred to him. He tapped the other keys experimentally. Yes, each sounded a unique frequency, in a predictable pattern of increasing pitch. Much like—a human piano.
"Sir?"
Knockout realized the Vehicons were watching him. He baffled them by shooting them a grin. Then, cracking his servos, he positioned them on the control panel and began to tap away. A melody filled the room as his hands danced across the keys. The Vehicons stared in disbelief. One of them gathered the courage to speak up.
"What… what are you doing, sir?"
"Ever heard of a human named Elton John?" Knockout wished the Vehicons had faces so he could see their expressions right now. With a fluid riff, Knockout finished the intro and started on the first verse.
"I remember when rock was young!"
"Me and Susie had so much fun!
Holdin' hands and skimmin' stones—
had an Chevy alt-mode and a place of my own!
But the biggest kick I ever got
was doing a thing called the Crocodile Rock!
While the other bots were rockin' 'round the clock,
we were hopping and bopping to the Crocodile Rock!"
Knockout cast a glance at his audience. He'd expected the Vehicons to be horrified when he mentioned humans, but—they weren't. Work had ceased and the drones had encircled him and the machine, seeming intrigued. Well, a little bit of human culture won't hurt them, Knockout thought, winking at the drones.
"Well!" He slammed on the keys. "Crocodile rockin' is something shockin' when your pedes just can't keep still!
I never knew me a better time and I guess I never will!
And oh, Mama Mama! Those Friday nights!
When Susie wore her plating tight,
And the crocodile rockin' was out of siii-iii-iii-ight!"
Another riff led him into the chorus. Half his processor focused on playing, but the other half was considering the Vehicons. They'd drawn in closer around the impromptu keyboard—as if they were enjoying this. That was a surprise. But they were just standing there, like—what did the humans say?—like deer in the headlights. That wouldn't do—he'd have to draw them in further. Scanning the crowd, he chose one drone hovering nearby. "You!"
The drone jumped in alarm, but Knockout ignored it. "I need a back-up singer for the chorus. Come here."
"M-me?" The drone asked, fidgeting nervously at being singled out.
"Yes, you. Come over here, closer—yes that's it. Now repeat after me: Laaaaa, la la la la laaa…."
The drone mimicked the nonsense syllables, hesitantly at first, but then louder as Knockout urged him on. "Good, good. Now, sing that whenever you hear this sequence of notes, and don't stop until the music changes. You can stop now, but be ready on my signal." With nimble servos, Knockout ended the long-overdue choral passage and started on the second verse:
"But the vorns went by, and the rock just died!
Susie went and left me for some foreign guy!
Long nights cryin' by the record machine,
Dreamin' of my Chevy and my old blue jeans!
But they'll never kill the thrills we got
Overheatin' to the Crocodile Rock,
Learnin' fast as the vorns went past.
We really thought the Crocodile Rock would last!
"Well! Crocodile rockin' is something shockin' when your pedes just can't keep still!" Knockout's own pedes demonstrated, tapping rhythmically as the Vehicons ogled. "I never knew me a better time and I guess I never will!"
"And oh, Mama mama! Those Friday nights! When Susie wore her plating tight, and the Crocodile rockin' was out of si-iii-iii-iight!"
He pointed at the drone next to him. The Vehicon jumped again, but his vocalizer rang clear and strong: "Laaaaa! La la la la laaaaa!" Knockout bobbed his head in time to the music, and the drone took that as encouragement. "LAAAAA! La la la la laaaaa! La la la la laaaa! La la la la laaaa!"
"Ooh, I remember when rock was young!" Knockout cut in, changing melodies. "Me and Susie had so much fun!
Holdin' hands and skimmin' stones,
Had a Chevy alt-mode and a place of my own!
But they'll never kill the thrills we got
Overheatin' to the Crocodile rooock!
Learnin' fast as the vorns went past.
We really thought the Crocodile Rock would last! WELL!
Crocodile rockin' is something shockin' when your pedes just can't keep still!" Knockout pounded on the keys. Time for the big finish. "I never knew me a better time and I guess I never will!
"And oh, MAMA MAMA! Those Friday nights! When Susie wore her plating tight, and the Crocodile rockin' was out of si-iii-iii-iight!
"Laaa!" Knockout's voice joined the drone's this time. "La la la la laaa! Come on, everyone!"
At the command, only a few voices tentatively joined in, but after a few astroseconds the murmur grew to a roar as the entire group sang along. "LAAAA! LA LA LA LA LAAAAAAA! LA LA LA LA LAAAAAA! LA LA LA LA LAAAAAAAAAA!"
Knockout finished the piece with a flourish. The last notes resonated through the chamber before fading into nothing. Silence fell over the room. The drones stood like statues, unsure of what to do after the impromptu musical number. Knockout stayed frozen in place before his makeshift instrument. He waited to see how the drones would react.
After a few uncomfortable moments, one finally spoke up.
"Sir," the drone asked in timidly, "What was the name of that human again?"
Knock Out grinned broadly at the crowd of Vehicons who were now eyeing him with something akin to awe.
"Elton John. He was popular in the 1970's—that was about half a human life cycle ago. He's still quite well known, though." He ran his servos gently over the control panel-turned-keyboard. "Would you care to hear more of his work?"
Starscream huffed in frustration as he strode down the halls of the Nemesis. Why did Megatron insist on wasting his talents with such trivial tasks? Checking on a tardy supervisor was not a job for an Air Commander.
Of course, it was Knock Out's fault as much as Megatron's. He should have finished his assignment half a cycle ago; what was delaying him? The idiot wouldn't answer his comm, either, so the problem had to be investigated in person. And of course Lord Megatron assigned that demeaning task to his first lieutenant.
"Someday…" Starscream murmured darkly as he approached his destination. The cargo bay Knock Out was supposedly working in was just ahead. As he stepped in front of the metal door, however, Starscream heard something… odd coming from inside. It was muffled by the door, but it sounded like shouting, rising and falling in volume. Although it sounded rather rhythmic for shouting—and there was something else, something he couldn't identify…
Starscream pressed the access panel and the door slid open. A wave of sound hit him. He stood frozen as he took in the scene before him, optics widening in disbelief.
The first thing he noticed was the disorder—the job had obviously not been finished. The drones were crowded around some mysterious piece of equipment near the center of the room. They were completely oblivious to his arrival. But Starscream's attention was snatched by the machine.
Knock Out sat in front of it, wearing a pair of ridiculous star-shaped glasses with pink lenses. A strange melody came from the machine as his servos raced across the control panel. The Vehicons swayed in time to the music, tapping their pedes and bobbing their heads.
And Knockout was singing.
"Oh, Ramjet and Skywarp, have you seen them yet? Ooh, but they're so spaced out! Sc-sc-screamer and the Jets!" Knock Out crooned. "Oh, those Seekers are wonderful! Oh, Starscream, he's really keen! He's got them high-heeled boots—a metal suit—y'know, I read it in a magazi-iiiiiiiiiiiiine, oh!"
Knock Out's servos danced and a musical flourish rang through the air. "Screamer and the Jets!"
Starscream was speechless—which for him, was rare. The sight was so shocking, it took a moment for the lyrics to register in his brain. The comprehension process was helped when Knock Out raised an arm and gestured at the crowd of Vehicons. "Chorus time! Come on, everybody! Screamer!"
"Screamer, Screamer, Screamer!" the Vehicons belted on cue.
"Screamer!"
"Screamer, Screamer, Screamer!"
"Screamer!"
"Screamer, Screamer, Screamer!"
"Screamer and the Jets!"
Starscream's optics narrowed. He'd heard enough. Drawing himself up to his full height, he put on a dignified expression and walked toward the motley crew. The Vehicons that were facing the door were the first to notice; their song broke down into fearful stuttering. Their reactions quickly alerted the rest of the group to the Air Commander's presence. All except for Knock Out—he was too intent on the playing to notice why the drones had gone silent.
"Oh, what happened? It sounded so good! Come on, one more time—"
"Ahem."
Knock Out stiffened as he heard the noise. Oh, no—please don't let that be who he thought it was. Slowly, he looked back over his shoulder—and saw Starscream standing behind him, hands clasped behind his back. He did not look happy.
"Commander Starscream!" Knock Out leapt up with a hasty salute. "Sir! Uh—how long have you been standing there?"
Starscream merely continued scowling. It took Knock Out a moment to realize why. He whipped off his unconventional eyewear off with an awkward chuckle.
"Just… having a little morale-boosting activity with the Vehicons… A happy drone is a hard-working drone, eh?" He glanced around the unorganized cargo bay. "Um, sorry for the delay… just, uh, give us a cycle or so and we'll have this bay ship-shape, hmm?"
Starscream's glare was withering—even to Knock Out, who was used to it. Oh please, don't scratch my finish again… anything but the finish…
Without saying a word, Starscream reached out and plucked the pink-lensed glasses from Knock Out's servo. Then he clenched his fist around them. There was an audible crunch as the glass broke. Starscream let the remaining bits fall onto the floor, not taking his eyes off of Knockout.
"If I ever see this happening again," he hissed, "I will rip you into pieces and hang your remains in the command chamber as a warning." He motioned to the clutter around them. "You have one cycle to get this finished. And you can explain to Megatron why it took so long."
The Seeker turned and marched swiftly from the room. The door snapped closed behind him, leaving an awkward silence among the singers.
"…Well?" Knockout snapped finally, glaring at the surrounding Vehicons. "Nothing to see here! Get back to work!"
The drones instantly scurried off to their half-finished work. The job was done within the cycle and the robots dispersed to their various other duties. Few of them noticed that the damaged machine somehow vanished during that time. And if any of them suspected where it went, they didn't say a word.
Transformers belongs to Hasbro; the music belongs to the marvelous Elton John. I own nothing but this story (which might be getting a sequel... if I can get myself to stop being a lazy writer).
In case anyone wondered, the songs Knockout is going off of are "Crocodile Rock" and "Benni and the Jets." Where he got Elton John-style eyewear in a Cybertronian size is anyone's guess.