Author's Notes: Oh, look, I'm trying to write a romantic-comedy. For Transformers. Haha. Isn't that strange?

It's AU, naturally. The Autobots are human, blah. And Megatron… well, I don't want to spoil it. Also, based very teeny weeny loosely on The Proposal.

Dedicated to one of my best friends who I have not met in real life, Amanda. Happy birthday, best wishes, you're old! Haha!

Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro, portrayals of Sam Witwicky and Mikaela Banes and Sam's parents belong to their actors. Also, Optimus' sister, Amanda, who you will encounter later, belongs to my good friend, Amanda. Any OCs belong to me, and so do the concepts. Wow, I gotta learn how to shorten this thing.

&&&

20k in Thirty Days

Introduction

&&&

It's settled.

I love Mikaela (my sexy, perfect, amazing girlfriend) very much, very very very much that I feel like a dork writing it in my journal (because mom said I needed a diary to write all my feelings down and I said "no, mom! I don't!"). (I think the period fits there, and I should stop parenthetical overkill. It's safe to say I'm not so good with grammar.)

And because I love Mikaela very, very much, I've decided to marry her.

Okay, so I'm kind of young, and I'm not really done with college, but hey, it's not like a lot of kids go to college. I mean, I bet Trent, that jerk in high school who used to be Mikaela's boyfriend that I got to steal Mikaela from because my dad got me a car and I was brave enough to ask if she needed a ride home, didn't go to college. Him and all those other football losers who did not believe me when I told them I made that book that showed the links between brain damage and football. I really did make that book, and I worked extra hard on the coloring areas and the pop-up pictures and the mazes, so I was surprised when the publishers turned me down.

Okay, I think I went a little out of topic there. Internal monologues happen a lot when I'm on my own, and most of the time I just write without thinking about what I'm writing, so, there's my explanation.

Anyway, since I'm going to marry Mikaela, I'm going to need the money to – first – buy an engagement ring. And, after that, I'm going to need the money for the wedding preparations, since I'm the guy and all and I think it's an obligation. That means I'll have to buy wedding bands, some giveaways for the bridal shower, maybe even collect money for the shower itself and our bachelor/bachelorette party. And after that, I'm going to need money for the wedding itself, for the reception and the priest and the reservations and all that. Mom told me that when I got married, I should have a nice flashy ceremony. I wasn't sure whether she was high on pot brownies at that time, but I told her I would, and so that's the reason I'm in this sticky situation. Even though it looked so easy to do on that one movie called The Proposal, I remembered that the girl was a demon lady from hell (with a heart underneath after all) who could do anything, and the guy was fully loaded with all the money in the world. So, you can say that the situations are totally different. First is that Mikaela isn't a demon lady from hell, and I'm not rich.

There you have it.

Since I settled this oh-so masterfully in the confines of my dormitory last night during the time when Leo is most quiet (right after dinner, rubbing his belly), I also decided to grab a job to be able to get enough money for said wedding and said preparations. If I asked mom and dad to help me, who knows what they'd do, so I had to make sure to get all this money on my own.

And, because God loves me and tomorrow is a Saturday, I'll wake up extra early at seven 'o clock in the morning before Leo wakes up to bother me and drive (because luckily, I am not a freshman anymore) to a publishing company (hey, it worked in The Proposal!) and become the secretary of world-famous (not really) book editor, Optimus Prime. I know, I know, lame name, but rumor has it that his parents were high when they gave birth to him. I think the dialogue kind of went like this:

Daddy Prime: oh look at his pretty blue eyes

Mommy Prime: they're so prettily blue

Doctor: you know 'optic' is a more fancy way to say 'eye'

Daddy Prime: really? maybe we should name him optic haha

Mommy Prime: but i wanted the name erasmus!

Daddy Prime: but optic sounds so sophisticated

Doctor: why don't you put the two names together?

Daddy & Mommy Prime, at the same time: optimus christostenov prime!

Doctor: i swear he'll be gary-stu material, are you sure?

Daddy & Mommy Prime, with eyes full of love and devotion: of course!

And lo-and-behold, he was named Optimus Prime. Surprisingly, his dad was the owner of a publishing company, and because Optimus is his son and favoritism is inevitable, he became the book editor. And he's a really good editor, I tell you. Prime Publishing Corp. has published a lot of famous, best-selling books, and they always turn out good – and when you see the manuscripts leaked on the internet, you'll think 'daaamn, did that Optimus write the whole thing?'

Yeah. That good.

Also, luckily, Mr. Prime (as in, Optimus) seemed to be in need of a secretary, because his last one kept sleeping on the job even when the work hours ended – and although he is somewhat similar to the perfect man, he was unable to do all the work himself. But he did around ninety-nine percent of everything he needed to do, so I guess if I become his secretary he wouldn't mind me not being there everyday because I had college.

I also hear that Mr. Prime is a very, very compassionate man.

Or at least, I hear it from his adopted son, Bumblebee Prime (also known as Bee) – whose real parents were also high when they named him. Bee's a neighbor in my dorm, and he's a real charmer. I wonder where he gets it from, his biological parents, or his adopted one.

Anyway, it was from Bee that I learned that Mr. Prime needed a secretary, and I figured that since all I had to do was answer calls for him or get him coffee when he needed it that I could totally be able to raise the money without dropping out of college. Bee also told me that the pay is real high there, so I'd probably be able to get it in three months. Perfect job, right? Right.

So, because auditions (I mean, interviews) are tomorrow, I have to get up early and get there earlier than everyone else to make a good impression. And, trust me; if I had a talent to match my dashingly good looks, then it would be a talent in running. I'd definitely be able to get there on time, if not earlier.

At the risk of sounding like Spongebob Squarepants, I would like to say, for the record:

I'M READY! I'M READY! I'M RAY-DAY!