CHAPTER 2. BECAUSE I LIED TO YOU.

***

Bumblebee was never seen again. But they could still Call him every now and then. After all, he was just stuck beneath a ton of sand.

Starscream committed suicide, leaving Him/Her/it at some far far far far far far place no one ever heard of or will hear of again.

Optimus prime finally got around to filing for divorce. A task that was harder then it needed to be, considering he wasn't married.

Megatron was now running a hot dog stand in the Bermuda Triangle. Business was booming. Location, location, location.

The plot device was bored.

So now Track and Sunstreaker were having an illegitimate love child. At light speed. The child will be born before the setting of dawn or something.

"Tracks! Shouldn't you be resting? That child may look like me."

"Moi? It is you, who is carrying!"

"I beg to differ. This paint job was not made for child labor."

"Your paint job? My body build is too gorgeous to strain in any way."

So they agreed. Someone else had to carry their illegitimate love child.

"Elita-1?"

*slap*

"Arcee?"

*slap*

"Chromia?"

*slap*

"Ironhide?"

*slap*

"He scrapped my paint! He scrapped my paint!"

"I guess this settles it then." Tracks.. Talked I guess. "you're going to have to carry my child."

"I'm injured! Look at this paint!" Sunstreaker.. Talked. "you're going to have to carry my child."

"No you!"

"No you!"

And hour of 'No you!'s later, their fighting disintegrated into an all out slap fight.

No fight has ever been more gay. Some even wrote poems and limericks about the day. It was long remembered, yadda yadda yadda…

The plot device speaks again.

"I'll help the two of you!"

"Who are you, previously unknown and genderly ambiguous person." Asked Sunstreaker.

"I am _____! That's right! I'm the self-insert _____! My name is _____!"

"Bare our child now!"

"Ok! 'Cus I have absolutely no problem with that what-so-ever! I have no morals!"

"Yay yay!" Track and Sunstreaker jump up and down.

It was now dusk. Previously I said the child would be born at dawn, but I didn't want to wait that long, so now it's dusk. Which I am pretty sure is that thing before night. Or I have it backwards again.

"Yay yay!" Yes, they were still doing that.

The child was born. I don't suppose I could lack any more detail, unless I simple said 'born child.' Or perhaps just 'Born.' I'll go with that.

Erase previous paragraph from your mind.

Born.

"He's beautiful! Why does he look like Megatron?"

"No he doesn't! I'm naming him Mr. GuarbleFlack."

Plot Device~~~~~~~

They landed in the Bermuda Triangle on a flying tricycle. But that wasn't quiet stupid enough, so they nailed a random Decepticon to the bumper.

And only then, did they realize they didn't have a bumper. It was a fricken tricycle.

"Starscream! You're back from the dead! How was your vacation."

"Eh, good, good. Got tortured some, saw a lot of dead people, Y'know, the usual."

"Have you seen Megatron? He runs a hot dog stand somewhere around here."

"Yeah. He's right over there, right next to the giant hot dog stand. What do you need him for?"

"Our baby need a kidney transplant, and Megatron is the only donor."

"He he. Donor rhymes with- Oh, yeah. T rating."

"How do we get over to him?"

"Why, follow the yellowy-blue-kinda gray brick road!"

"He he, Brick rhymes with- Oh, yeah. T rating."

Oh, the Scenery: Hot dog stand. Brick road. Some grass and stuff. Blue sky. Megatron standing off in the distance. Tracks and Sunstreak, just kind there somewhere.

Plot Device ending:

Megatron's kidney sprouted butterfly wings and flew home to little whats-his-name, saving his pathetic little life.

Fortunatly, the butterfly wings did not detach and it resulted in him flying off somewhere by the kidney.

He lived a happy life. I dunno. I kinda just said that to make you feel better.