Rearlight's POV

Adventurer Rearlight's log (heheh, log, heheh). My stolen-borrowed-liberated escape pod crash-landed on an unknown desert planet. I am pretty much fine except for the fact that everything is wrong. I can't contact anybody and I am in desperate need of energon, high-grade energon, so now I have to travel thru this scorching desert to find it. My chances of survival are bleak but I kept an optimistic attitude as always about it.

"I am going to die here! There is no hope. I will die! Oh, Primus save me!"

Yeah, I prayed for Primus to intervene but l know I shouldn't. Only religious nut-jobs believe in the divine power of Primus the creator. Anyone with some sense knows that the only true God is Currytron, the all-knowing taco in the sky that blesses us with his miraculous salsa and punishes sinners with disgusting olives of agony. He once sent his only nacho to die for our sins.

Despite where my brash actions had lead me I have no regrets.

"I have so many regrets! I wish I never sat my foot inside Swerve's bar that night and I wish I had never stolen Hot Rod's escape pod. *wailing* I am sorry for making fun of Warpath's gun-barrel, it was of impressive size, I was just jealous. *wailing* What more? I am sorry for giving Michael Bay the rights to portray the history of our species but I genuinely thought Pearl Harbor was historically accurate."

After walking in for fourteen years (or maybe fourteen minutes, I don't know) I could not walk any further. I crawled on my hands up the sand dune. Man, westerns makes the desert seem like so much fun. Note to self; strangle Clint Eastwood next time yah see him.

Once again I must stress the fact that I never let my optimism crack during this dire individual situation. I even wrote a poem about it.

'Misery leads to war, war leads to death, death leads to darkness and darkness leads to misery and on and on it goes. A sick sickle existence perpetuates. A few of us might do something great enough to leave an impact in some small portion of this galaxy but most cultures won't even hear of us and the ones that do will one day be erased from existence. Is most Cybertronians lives even worth the pain of construction and destruction? After all, most of us will never get to fondle Arcee's tities nor will we get to smack Nautica's ass. I bet before I die I will not even get to see Starscream's smug face explode nor see Skids and Mudflap in a bondage video. Nothing matters and there is only pain. So please all Autobots and please with some sugar-on-top Decepticons, kill yourself. It won't help you any but it will make me feel a little bit better.'

Inspiring stuff. Even Optimus Prime used it in one of his grand speeches about never giving up. I know it didn't rhyme but that is the way my poetry is.

"No, now I give up. Hopefully the sand will cover me before any scavengers robs me of my body parts." I said as I laid down in the sand. "I wonder if the Necrobot will find me. I wonder what he will say about me. Here lies Rearlight, an extraordinarily handsome fellow. Geez, I wonder if he will rape my corpse."

I suddenly heard a voice talking to me. "Do not give up Rearlight. If you can just make it over the dune you will find liquor, lots of liquor." It was a loud booming voice.

I looked up at the sky. "Currytron? Is that you?"

"No you idiot, it's your stomach!"

Slightly disturbed I looked down at my abdomen. "Stomach?"

"Yes, it is me."

"Are you alive?"

"Of course I am but that is not important. There is a lot of high-grade energon on the other side of this dune and it can all be yours as long as you don't give up."

I blinked puzzled. "How do you know that?"

"I am omniscient! I know all there is and all there ever will be."

"Wow, does that mean you know when I will go to the great burrito in the sky to meet my lord?"

"No retard, Currytron is just a myth, a figment of your imagination."

I felt my religious beliefs getting crush. "So…does that mean Primus is real?"

My stomach sighed. "No, he aint real either."

"So what is the one true religion?" I asked him.

"Mormonism."

"Really?"

"Of course not, I'm just fucking with you. The religion that got it the closest is Beefism practiced by the hamster people of Hoxtafston's third moon."

"Never heard of it." I shacked my head.

"That moon is in another galaxy, lightyears from here so Cybertron has never reached it and really only about 35 people practice it but we are getting off topic. You need to get to the other side of this dune so we both can get some energon. Now, if you excuse me I will get back to sleep."

"Wait!" I shouted.

My stomach sighed tiresomely. "What is it now?"

"Does-does other parts of me also live?"

"Some, yes."

"Does my pike?"

Once again he sighed. "Yes, your genital is alive, and please don't use that stupid term for it."

"Is he omniscient too?"

"WHAT DO YOU THINK? After the way you treated him, his mental health is on per with that of a mad woman eating her own excrement in a mental hospital. Sadly, ever since your brain was blown to bits only he and I can govern your actions."

"Is my anus alive?" I asked.

"Wha-what? You're a robot, you don't have an anus. Who would ask something like that?"

"Why are you asking me? You are the one that is all-knowing?" I pointed out.

"You are starting to annoy me. Now, go find high-grade energon and adventure beyond this dune." My stomach proclaimed.

I nodded and pulled out my long sword before running up the sand dune.

"ALL HAIL CURRYTRON!"