The Band's Called...

Disclaimer: Same.


"Can you make it go 'myeooomeedlymeedly'?"

"Please?" Skids set his guitar. "Calling me an amateur."

Band practice had kept up for two weeks, once every two or three nights, depending on whatever was happening on the ship. They all met in Swerve's room, which was turning into an increasingly tight fit. Cyclonus and Tailgate kept to one end of the room while Trailcutter and Skids shared the other, with Swerve bouncing back and forth between them putting music videos on and asking if they could do the things the humans were doing onscreen. They kept it up for two sessions before a knock on their door. Rewind heard them.

The room soon had to accommodate Rewind and Chromedome, who came to document the noises and stayed to document the band. Swerve had such a freak out about having their own documentary that he had to leave the room and pace the hallway for a couple of minutes. It was a solid 9 laps of "Our own Behind the Music! We need a narrator! We need a discography!" before Skids pulled him back into his own room and made him focus on the music they actually played.

Two weeks of band practice later, one complaint had never gone away.

"Your notes are slipping."

"I know my notes are slipping!" Skids growled. "Lemme start over!"

"That's so strange..." Rewind tapped his ear, checking playback footage in his head. "You had it down pat an hour ago."

"I know I did! I played it, it- hang on."

"This happens sometimes!" Swerve explained in a rush. "Humans have to practice hours upon hours to develop the muscle memory that lets them play and sing at the same time, or they have to have a dedicated singer, or they have to-"

Trailcutter gasped. "Don't say it!"

Swerve growled. "Tune to a chord."

"I am not tuning to a chord!" Skids roared. "I have my pride!"

"Maybe we just need a singer!" Tailgate suggested. "That's not so bad, right? Cyclonus, would you-"

Cyclonus glared hard enough to red the room red.

"Nevermind!"

Chromedome nestled down next to Rewind. "'Their career off to an amazing start, the band hit a sudden snag at the realization that their lead singer couldn't sing'-"

"Nobody is- I did not consent to being the lead singer!" Skids howled. "That was Swerve's idea!"

"Nobody else can do it!" Swerve explained. "And we can't get anybody else! I can't fit any more people in my room!"

Cyclonus scoffed. "We could just get a larger room."

"Everybody else's rooms are full of their... lives!" Swerve countered. "Where are are we gonna get practice space? What do you want to do, requisition a band room from Mags?"

The door flew open, filling with red and orange. Rodimus sang, warbly and offkey, "Did someone say Captain Rodimuuus?"

Tailgate swooned. Trailcutter dipped as far out of the way as he could, which still didn't leave him and his bass with much space. "Rodimus!"

Swerve pointed accusingly. "You failed your audition."

"Ffff, I know! I can't carry a tune in my subspace!" Rodimus bragged, and only he could make self-deprication sound like showboating. "I just came to visit! I can't believe you all practice in a hab suite! And you still sound as good as you do? That's amazing! Rodimus Stars all around!"

The room rumbled, mostly with the sound of Trailcutter's unsteady "REALLY?" and Skids being very, vocally, confused.

"Hold on, wait, no," Skids stopped the murmurs. "What are you talking about? Where have you heard us play?"

Rewind tapped his head. "Posted it."

Swerve yelped. "Rewind! We've never played a song together!"

"You haven't?!" Now it was Rodimus's turn to be surprised. "Then what have I been listening to? I have your cover of 'Rock and Roll Hoochie-Coo' downloaded to my personal hard drive!"

Chromedome raised his hand. "I actually put that together in post."

"We have a 'post'?!" Swerve practically screamed. "Why didn't you TELL me?! We could have put an album out by now!"

"All right, stop! STOP! One at a time!" Rodimus strode into the room. It was so cramped, he could only stride about one step, and standing inside put Trailcutter just a little bit away from him. "Skids explain the- Trailcutter you reek of high grade."

"Sorry."

"Skids explain this- this whole setup. With the band."

"Oh, I- uh-" He checked over his shoulder to Swerve, who just shrugged and waved him to go ahead. "W-we just started playing a couple weeks ago and... here we are. In Swerve's room."

"Brilliant. Masterful storyteller. Here's MY side!" said Rodimus. "I love your stuff! Even if it's all Chromedome's editing."

Swerve huffed.

"I wanna sponsor you guys with a bigger room!"

Rodimus said something, Skids was sure, but he couldn't hear it over everyone else suddenly jumping up and cheering and rushing him. Swerve and Rodimus both had to holler for everyone to calm down so he could keep talking.

"BUT I want you guys to play LIVE!" Rodimus finished. "Otherwise I can't guarantee anything! Is that doable?"

"Could we really?" gasped Tailgate. He'd practically scaled Cyclonus in a joyful fit. "Play for real in front of everybody?!"

Swerve beamed. "Are you kidding?! This is what we've been practicing for!"

Rewind checked his playback. "I have about 57 minutes of footage that says you've been practicing for fun."

Swerve cocked out a smug hip. "We'll have Chromedome edit that out in post!"

"That's the spirit!" Rodimus cheered. "Rewrite that history!"

Skids spoke across the room to Cyclonus. "I feel like somewhere this got really out of hand."

"I agree. It was the moment this ridiculous exercise began."

Swerve stomped his foot. "We accept!"

"COOL! Mags is gonna hate this paperwork and I'm going to make him do it anyway!" Rodimus cheered. "So, what's the name of your band?"

Trailcutter jumped for joy. "Oh! I've have ideas for that! I- uAH-"

One jump came down just slightly wrong, and Trailcutter's foot bent under him and he went sprawling backwards out the door, bass lying across his belly.

Swerve didn't miss a beat. "The band's called 'Teebs Fell Down'."

"No it isn't!" Skids shouted. "Ignore him. We'll think of one."

"Well, get to it!" Rodimus encouraged. "I want to hear you all sounding professional, and fast!"

"All right!" Swerve's fist met his open palm. "Meet us in the band room tomorrow night!"

"Wait, tomorrow?" Rodimus stopped, halfway out the door already. "Why tomorrow?"

"Because we're holding auditions for a singer!"