Try to imagine this Bumblebee to be like the one in "Transformers: Cyberverse" in regards to design. And no, this is not a remake of the 2018 "Bumblebee" movie. It's a reimagining of the yellow Transformer's origins.
NOTE: There will probably be grammar mistakes that I will fix later.
...
"Just tell us where the Autobots are, scout. The pain will stop if you cooperate. There's no need to protect them now that they have abandoned you."
"I'll...never talk...you old pile of junk!"
"Why, you impertinent-! Just give me the word, Lord Megatron, and I'll turn him into scrap!"
"Hold your hand, Starscream. It would be a waste to destroy a young soldier, especially one with such potential. He will come around and join our cause. All he needs is a little...discipline. Thundercracker, would you do the honors?"
"With pleasure."
...
Caraway, Missouri
1984
Less two minutes after the bell rang, the whole school practically stampeded out of the building. Young students talked excitedly about what they had planned for the weekend, and a group of four boys walked down the sidewalk together, each of them holding a GoBot.
"So you guys want to come over to my house?" a blonde boy named Tim asked his friends.
"Sure," a dark-haired boy named Martin nodded, "as long as you have Jell-O Pudding Pops."
"Pudding Pops suck, man," an African-American boy named Corbin complained as he morphed his GoBot Crasher into a Porsche.
"You suck!" Martin retorted.
"I'll tell you what really sucks," a boy named Aaron shook his long brown bands away from his eyes. "My parents won't let me go see The Terminator."
"Oh, yeah," Tim said. "Mine either."
"I saw that one!" A fifth voice prompted them all to turn around.
A ten-year-old girl named Marcy grinned at them, revealing her missing right premolar. She had short, curly red hair and hazel eyes and wore a light purple dress with long black sleeves, black leggings, a pair of tennis shoes, and a Tweety Bird backpack.
The boys all gave her a weirded out look, but she continued on talking.
"It was awesome!" she told them excitedly. "Arnold Schwarzenegger killed it! There was this really disgusting scene where he cut his eye out and there was a robot one underneath, and it almost made me throw up. Some gross kissing scenes, too. Definitely not for kids. Wanna know how I got in? I bribed the guy at the ticket booth. I paid him with my allowance and..."
She trailed off when the boys started to walk away, and she ran after them.
"So anyway, can I come with you guys to Tim's house?"
Martin stopped walking and turned around to confront the girl. "Why are you following us, weirdo?"
Marcy froze, taken back a bit by this hostile behavior. "I...I just want to play with you guys. You got GoBots, too, right?"
Tim scoffed. "You got a GoBot?"
"It's Marcy," Corbin muttered. "What'd ya expect?"
Marcy took off her backpack and dug around in it until she found what she was looking for: a tiny yellow Volkswagen Beetle. She smiled as she held it out in her palm. "See? I got Bug Bite!" She then quickly morphed it into its robot form. "Cool, huh?"
But the group of friends just stared and scoffed at her.
Corbin shook his head. "You really are weird, Marcy."
"Yeah, why don't you ever play with, like, girl stuff?" Aaron asked. "Like Cabbage Patch Kids or My Little Pony?"
"Well, what's wrong with me playing with robots and cars?" Marcy asked innocently.
"Look, Marcy," Tim crossed his arms, "we get bugged by girls all the time at school. After-school time is, you know, girl-free time for us."
"Yeah, so go home, will ya?" Martin huffed.
But then Corbin said, "I don't know, guys. Maybe we should let her come with us."
The other boys looked at him incredulously.
Marcy's face lit up. "Really?"
Corbin grinned and nodded. "Yeah, 'cause Marcy's not a girl. She just dresses like one."
The group of friends instantly broke into laughter, while Marcy's face became red from embarrassment. Without saying another word to her, the boys continued down the sidewalk and left her alone.
Marcy just stood there for a moment, somberly fumbling with her GoBot and morphing it back into its car form, before she threw it down on the grass in a fit of anger. Putting her backpack back on, she got her yellow bike from the school's bike stall and pedaled in the opposite direction.
What she didn't know was that she was being watched by someone, or something, in a real yellow Volkswagen Beetle that was parked on the street across from the school.
...
Her father Eric Bacal worked at an auto repair shop, one of only two in the small town of Caraway, which was named "Sparkplug's Garage". Every day after school, she would stop by the shop to visit him and the other workers. The manager had a white mini bull terrier named Spike, who would always greet her with a wagging tail and some kisses.
She parked her bike against a tree and cuddled Spike for a moment before she walked into the garage. She looked around for her Dad and found him working under a white 1978 Ford.
"Hi, Dad!" she called.
He rolled out from under the car and smiled up at his daughter, his face and brown beard covered in black stains. "Hey, Marcy. I'd give ya a kiss but..." He gestured to his dirty face. "You know." He groaned as he stood up and rubbed his neck. "So how was school?"
"Fine," Marcy simply replied as she sat down on a high stool, which squeaked as she turned the seat back and forth. She reached into her backpack and pulled out her report card. "Got my grades today."
He took the card from her and smiled proudly at the results: mostly A's with a couple of B's. "This is great, sweetheart. All that studying has paid off."
Marcy grinned and nodded. "So, Dad, since I've been getting good grades lately, I should get a reward for my efforts. Don't you agree?"
Eric sighed as he wiped his face with a washcloth. "The answer is still 'no', Marcy. You're not getting a car."
Marcy groaned, "But I can drive! I've done it before."
"You backed it out of the driveway once, and you knocked over the mailbox. Besides, legally, you can't own a car until you're sixteen."
"So I'll get it six years early! I won't even drive it! We'll just keep it in the garage."
Eric raised an eyebrow. "For six years? You can't even stay away from the weed eater for more than five minutes. Ms. Miller still won't forgive us for the peony incident."
"I said I was 'sorry'," the redhead mumbled indignantly.
"Well, what if you run over a person instead of the mailbox? You think they'll care if you tell them you're sorry?"
Marcy finally gave up and pouted. "Okay, fine. But can I at least get something just as cool as a car?"
"Well, that depends on your definition of 'cool'. But I will get you something, sweetheart, I promise. You've earned it." He ruffled her curly hair and got back down under the truck. "So listen, I won't be home until seven. There's still some mashed potatoes and macaroni left in the refrigerator. Heat those up in the microwave for dinner."
"Got it," Marcy jumped off the seat and started to walk away. "See you later tonight."
"Marcy!" Eric's loud voice stopped her. "If I catch you watching scary movies again, then it's no T.V for the weekend!"
"Yesir!" Marcy did a mock salute and ran outside.
Spike was barking at something across the road and she followed the dog's gaze. A yellow Beetle was parked next to the tree where her bike was. She couldn't see any driver, but Spike wouldn't bark at nothing, so she cautiously walked to her bike, her eyes never leaving the car.
Once she sat down on her seat, she pedaled as fast as she could down the road. When she glanced back over her shoulder, the car's lights were turned on and it started to pull onto the road and follow her. Thinking quickly, she made a sharp turn to a tight alley and waited for the stranger to pass her by, and sure enough, he did.
She let out a sigh of relief when she heard a rattling sound followed by laughter that was coming from the other end of the alley. She followed it to the back of a store, where a trio of teenagers in punk clothing spraying graffiti all over the brick wall, which was, of course, illegal. She figured that they belonged to a gang or something.
One girl had short black hair, wore a black leather jacket as well as a pair of black leather pants, pink leather boots, and piercings on her nose and ears. Another girl had a blue mohawk and wore a sleeveless yellow shirt and torn jeans. The third girl had messy strawberry blonde hair and wore a black headwrap, a denim jacket, a white shirt, leather wrist bands, and black shorts.
They were drawing a caricature of President Ronald Reagan with a devil's tail and horns. The mohawk girl noticed Marcy and quickly alerted the other two. They all stopped spraying and glared at the little girl.
"What are you lookin' at, Annie?" the leather girl snapped.
Marcy gulped nervously. "N-Nothing."
"That's right," the blonde girl tossed her graffiti can up and down. "You didn't see nothin'. Got it?"
Marcy nodded and quickly pedaled away, relieved that they were letting her go without a mark or a scratch.
...
When she finally got home, the first thing she did was make herself some graham crackers with syrup and slices of banana on top, skipping dinner and going straight to desert. Then she sat herself down on the couch and turned the T.V on, changing the channel until she found something that caught her interest. She stopped when she saw the opening credits for that movie "Christine".
She knew her father wouldn't want her to watch that one, but he wouldn't get home until seven. Besides, horror movies didn't scare her that much.
...
Hey, you ain't mad, are ya?
Marcy held the throw pillow closer to her chest as she watched the Plymouth Fury Christine turn on "her" headlights and chase after that Moochie guy. Her eyes were big and a graham cracker was sticking out of her mouth.
The chase ended when Moochie was cornered in a narrow alley, but even in the face of danger, the tubby gang member drew out his pocket knife.
You're a dead man now! Moochie threatened.
Marcy shook her head. "Don't do it, man," she muttered.
But Christine managed to squeeze into the tight alley, albeit denting and scraping off "her" doors in the process. The wheels squealed and smoked as "she" inched closer to "her" target. Moochie screamed in terror as the camera closed in on his torso...
HONNNNK!
"AAAAHH!" Marcy screamed and nearly fell off the couch at the sound of a car horn blaring.
Once she got a hold of herself, she noticed that some lights were shining on her living room window, which was covered with a curtain. She heard another honk and assumed that it was her father so she quickly turned off the T.V and ran to the window.
But when she pulled back the curtain, her heart went up to her throat. It wasn't her Dad's conversion van; it was the same yellow Beetle from earlier.
She quickly closed the curtain back over the window and put a hand to her mouth in terror. Did that creep really follow her all the way home? She couldn't call her father since he wasn't at the shop, so she was on her own.
Taking a deep breath, she hurried to the garage and looked for a weapon to defend herself with. She found her father's chainsaw, which was sitting on the tool desk. She pulled on the string a few times to start it and it buzzed loudly.
When she opened the front door, the Beetle was still on her driveway with its motor running and lights still on. Gulping, she slowly went down the steps of the porch and approached the car, though she kept a good distance between them.
"I-I-I'm armed, y'know!" she yelled to the unseen driver and lifted the chainsaw a little to emphasize her point. "So don't try anything funny!"
Then all of the sudden, both of the car's doors popped open at the same time, making Marcy jump. For one solid minute, though, nothing happened, so she very slowly walked up to the driver's side. When she peeked inside, there was no driver. In fact, the whole car was empty.
And now Marcy was really scared. Was a ghost driving this thing the whole time?
She then spotted something familiar on the driver's seat: a tiny yellow Beetle toy. In fact, it was her Beetle, her GoBot that she had tossed earlier. Blinking and without realizing what she was doing, she moved in closer and reached for her toy.
Unfortunately, she forgot to turn off her chainsaw and the jagged blades cut through the driver's seat. As soon as that happened, the whole car shook violently and Marcy stumbled back in alarm.
Then the most amazing thing happened: the car transformed into a robot before her very eyes. It had a silver human-like face, blue glowing eyes and a yellow helmet with two small horns. The car doors also protruded from its back like a pair of bug wings. The expression on its face was a mixture of shock and pain as it held its side.
At first Marcy did nothing but stare up at the robot, frozen stiff with her jaw dropped. Then she let out a big loud, "EEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"
The robot opened its mouth in a silent scream before it turned and ran straight through their fence, demolishing it, and then it disappeared behind the trees.
At that moment, Eric's van finally pulled up the driveway, and he jumped out of the car when he saw his daughter with a chainsaw in her hand. "Marcy?! What are you-?!"
"Eric, what is all that racket?!" a woman's voice yelled. An elderly woman in a blue nightgown stepped out of the house next to theirs. Her mouth opened in shock when she saw what Marcy was holding. "What-?! Is that child holding a chainsaw?!"
Eric quickly grabbed the chainsaw from Marcy and turned it off. "It's nothing, Ms. Miller!" he told the old woman. "Go back to bed!"
Their neighbor scoffed and shook her head before she went back inside. She just couldn't stand her troublesome neighbors.
Eric turned to his daughter. "Okay, Marcy, what's going on? And what-" His eyes bugged out when he saw their fence. "Aw, cripes! What happened to the fence?!"
"Dad!" Marcy grabbed her father's arm. "Dad, it followed me home!"
"Wh-What followed you home?"
"Well, I thought it was a car, but then it..." She stopped when she realized how unbelievable it would sound to her father.
But Eric knelt down and pressed his daughter on. "But what, honey? Tell me."
"Well, it..." she scratched her chin and looked down at her feet, "it...turned into a robot, and then it smashed our fence." She glanced up to see her father's reaction.
Eric just stared at her for a moment before he sighed and rubbed his temples. "Okay. Okay, I need to ask you something, and I want the truth. Were you watching a scary movie even though I told you not to?"
"No! I-I mean...I mean, yeah, I was but-"
"Ah-ha," he nodded and stood back up. "I knew it."
"But, Dad, I'm telling you the truth!" she insisted. "It really did turn into a robot!"
"Okay, that's enough," he said calmly as he started to walk to the house. "We'll talk about it in the morning."
"Dad, come on!" the redhead begged, then she pointed to what was left of the fence. "You think I'd do that to the fence?!"
Eric stopped and sighed as he turned to look at his daughter. "I don't know, Marcy," he said tiredly. "With you, I...I just don't know anymore."
Marcy just stared at her father, unsure what to say or even think. For some reason, hearing him say those words really hurt.
She watched as he stepped into the house and then glanced back at the wreckage. She couldn't have imagined it all...right?
She then noticed the toy Beetle that the robot had dropped on the driveway. She bent down and picked it up, holding it in the palm of her hand. Did it come all this way just to return the toy to her?
Or was she going crazy?