Life settled into an interesting routine before too long. Both Michelle and I were becoming conditioned to life with the "demon chibis," as she'd started to call them. Some days, I was tempted to agree.
"To think, I used to go to the bathroom without having to disarm booby traps," Michelle muttered one morning, entering with an interesting contraption made of string, paper clips, a ball point pen and duct tape. MacGyver would've been proud.
"Megatron…" The aforementioned chibi glanced up casually from a bit of paper, a piece of graphite in his hand.
"What, Poptarts? I'm busy."
"How many times do I have to tell you not to booby-trap the toilet?" We'd been over this. It seemed no matter what I did or what I threatened, he continued setting traps and doing other random things in my suite. Twice I'd woken up tied to my bed, Gulliver-style; once he managed to jury-rig the shower to spray paint instead (thankfully, I was the one who discovered it, it was only tempera paint, and I'd not stepped in yet. I could've killed him for that one...) and he'd set more booby-traps around my suite than I cared to count. Thanks to him, all of my suitemates knew about the chibis' sentience. At least he'd not found a way out of the suite yet… After discovering his destructive streak, I'd begged my suitemates to make sure the outer door was always closed, and I had one of the Autobots posted there to patrol at all times.
"You've never told me I couldn't booby-trap *that,*" Megatron said coolly. I growled in frustration.
"No more booby-traps, Megatron! I mean it!" Megatron gave me a dismissive look and continued whatever he was doing. I'd long since given up on trying to figure out his activities on the shelf; as long as he wasn't destroying anything, shooting anyone, or trapping something, I didn't really mind. He was used to having a Superweapon-Of-The-Week, after all. While a trap here and there in the room I can deal with, dragging Michelle and the rest of the suite into it was a bit… messy. "Are there any more traps, Megatron?" Megatron shrugged. I sighed, rubbing my temples before getting up to check the bathroom for more traps.
A shriek let me know that there were, in fact, more traps.
Angry spluttering from inside the bathroom told me that it was a particularly unpleasant trap that was sprung.
I cautiously opened the door and peeked inside, cringing at the sight. There stood Sarah, coated from head to toe in green paint.
"Look! I'm green! I'm an alien, baby…" Sarah started to sing. I slowly ducked out of the room.
"That's it… she's snapped… she couldn't take any more of my toys," I mumbled, horrified. The bathroom door opened and Sarah danced out.
"Look, everybody! Megatron made me green!" Assorted groaning came from the various bedrooms- in the past few days, everyone had fallen victim to at least one of Megatron's traps.
"It's probably tempera paint, it'll wash right off," I tried to reassure her. "I don't own anything else, so it's unlikely that he was able to get his little mitts on something that isn't water-soluble…"
"Poptarts, it's okay. What a way to start the morning! Whee!" With that, Sarah danced off, still green and apparently very amused by it.
"Yeah… Snapped. Definitely." I sighed and went to clean up the mess. The construction was quite elaborate, I had to admit- Megatron must've snuck out and worked on it all night. I was suddenly and acutely glad that I only owned two Decepticons. If I'd owned more… The dorm room would never be safe again. (Albeit I pretty much only want Decepticons… I'll just try to buy well-behaved ones… *eyeroll*)
"So, when does Millie get here tonight?" I froze in mid-mopping, turning to look at my roommate.
"I completely forgot she was coming tonight! Augh… The chibis are going to eat her alive!" Michelle chuckled.
"They only eat your sprinkles, remember?" I grumbled in response.
I love sprinkles more than any other food. I eat sprinkles on anything, and predominantly on whipped cream. I eat this 'snack' a lot, and my roommate is used to it.
Then the chibis came along.
They actually eat, strange as it sounds, and of *course* they had to get into my precious sprinkle supply. It has been steadily dwindling, and that was very depressing.
"I don't see the humor in my sprinkles being eaten by sentient robots from Hong Kong, Michelle." Michelle rolled her eyes.
"I don't see the humor in sitting on a booby-trapped toilet, Roommate. *You* bought them." I nodded a little. Yes, I more or less brought this entire mess on myself…
"Michelle, since Millie and I are going to C-Kon all day tomorrow, and I don't want to take all of the chibis with me…" Michelle backed away, waving her hands madly.
"Oh no! I am NOT babysitting your demon toys!"
"Please? I'll bring you something back! And Starscream likes you, after all!" Michelle was shaking her head so hard I was afraid it might fall off. "C'mon, Roommate, please…" I gave her a patented "If you don't agree, I'm gonna DIE" wounded-EKP-look. Michelle sighed, closing her eyes.
"Which of the little monsters are you going to try to saddle me with?"
"Ah, heh…" I idly wondered how much money I'd have to give her as a bribe once she found out which Transformer I had in mind. Michelle, in the manner that tends to weird our friends out, apparently read my mind, for her backwards pinwheeling increased in velocity as she backed into the counter in an effort to escape my insane ideas.
"Oh, no, I will NOT do it if you're giving me Megatron." I sighed.
"As if I can give him to anyone *else*…"
"What about Brian?" I gave her a flat look.
"Heh, turns out that HIS toys are alive, too. He already *has* a Megatron, Michelle. Why would he want *two*?" Michelle nodded a little.
"Yeah, but… I'm going to a play tomorrow, roommate! I can't take HIM to a PLAY!"
"Why not? If he doesn't have his cannon, he's pretty harmless. Well, unless he's ticked off…"
"Isn't he usually ticked off?"
"Well, yeah…" I sighed. "Would you watch Starscream, then? Maybe some other poor soul will take Megs…"
"Alright, for you. But you owe me one, roommate," Michelle grumped.
"Just tell him you'll take his wings if he doesn't behave. That usually keeps him in line. If you take your homework with you, let him read it. He likes that, too." Starscream, being a scientist at heart, loved to read Michelle's many science books. It kept him occupied, so I generally didn't complain. Michelle didn't mind much, either. Starscream learned quickly and had helped her a time or two on a particularly sticky problem. My chemistry-major suitemate, Sarah, had taken quite a shining to the little guy, as well. She was always giving him problems to do, or letting him help grade lab reports. As far as I was concerned, a busy and happy Starscream meant one less Decepticon to worry about.
Megatron was not so easily entertained.
I mulled over the problem the rest of the day, while also making sure my suite was cleaned up for Millie's arrival. I love my suitemates dearly, but we have the messiest suite ever. For once, my room was cleaner than the living room, which is saying something, as I tend to be the sloppiest one in the suite. Comes with being an elementary education major- there's always a project, and it's inevitably untidy and all over the place. I love it. My roommate has come to accept it, and my suitemates ignore it as much as possible.
Salvation came in the form of Chelsea when the girl wandered in to see if Michelle and I wanted to go to dinner. Telling her my intents of ordering a pizza when Millie arrived, Chelsea settled in to wait with me. I heard a splash from my room, a muffled shout of surprise, then a cry of "MEGATRON!" I leapt to my feet and dashed into my room to see what Megs had done now.
Michelle was soaking wet and glowering angrily at anything and everything that moved. I cringed and whipped around to find some towels to wipe up the water and my furious roommate.
"What happened?" Chelsea asked, wide-eyed as she followed me. Michelle was fuming and slammed the door to our closet to change.
"Megatron. Looks like he found some water balloons," I muttered, picking pieces of rubber from the floor. Various chibis were snickering quietly, while at least Optimus had the decency to appear insulted by Megatron's latest annoyance. I'm sure he'd be more destructive, given time and materials. I'm just glad I don't have anything sitting around that could potentially be deadly. Water balloons I can handle. Munitions might be a problem.
"Oh… I see. Hey, you're going to that convention tomorrow… Are you taking all of your toys with you?" I shook my head.
"No, only Optimus is going. I need babysitters for the rest."
"Well, I'm going to that volleyball game tomorrow, I could take one of them with me," Chelsea volunteered. I dropped my towel in shock and stared at her.
"Really? Would you even take Megatron?"
"Sure! I can always lock him in my car if he gets out of hand." Chelsea smiled cheerfully and I hugged her. I wanted to fall down at her feet and kiss them, but that might've scared her out of watching Megs, and that would be horribly counter-productive.
"You have no idea how much you've just saved my life, Chelsea," I gushed, extremely pleased. "I'll drop him off first thing in the morning."
The evening was pleasant, and the con was a blast. Optimus was good and watched with wide optics as we wandered the South Bend convention center and the surrounding area. I'd eventually found babysitters for the rest of the little monsters; once Megatron was out of the way, I actually had volunteers. That shocked me.
As I circled the dealer's room to find Christmas presents for my siblings, Optimus let out a shout.
"Miss Poptarts! Look!" He pointed at a nearby booth selling all sorts of interesting things. There, among the various anime dolls, hung a single Transformer. A Bumblebee keychain, that actually transformed. "We can't just leave him here!" Optimus pleaded.
"But Optimus…"
"You still have money, we need to buy him his freedom."
"I'm not running an underground railroad for toys, Op," I grumbled, and forked over the money. Having only gone to the convention with twenty dollars to my name, I was in a stingy mood, despite the fact that I'd found the one Transformer in a room full of anime wares. I quickly opened the package and freed the little guy, even unclipping the keychain from his bumper, and then shoved him into my breast pocket with Optimus. Suddenly glad I was wearing my 'commando' overshirt, I continued exploring, ignoring the conversation going on in my pocket. I was very, very thankful for the noise level in the room- I wasn't sure how *else* to explain the chatter taking place in my shirt.
Elsewhere in Indiana…Michelle took Starscream, while little Michelle volunteered to take Arcee. The two of them were going to attend a play of "Romeo and Juliet," so I figured of all the chibis, Arcee would most want to see it. Starscream would just have to live with it, as my dearest roommate was the only person willing to take him.
Poor Michelle.
Starscream wouldn't give me the full story, and neither would Michelle. Both came home livid; I was afraid to ask Michelle, frankly, knowing I'd end up clobbered with a rubber ducky to the face. Starscream just sulked up in his corner of the shelf and ignored my every attempt to coax a story out of him. Arcee filled me in somewhat as to what happened, but she'd been in little Michelle's purse for the start of it and wasn't sure how the whole situation began.
My best guess is that Starscream got bored on the trip back to school. (I was frankly surprised he didn't cause trouble beforehand.)
That is never a safe situation to be in, especially for my roommate, who has far less experience dealing with him. Michelle offered to let him read her book, but Starscream wasn't in the mood to learn about whatever it was Michelle was studying that week. Rather than shoving him into her backpack and telling him to shut up (as I probably would've done,) she just shrugged and returned her attention to her studies, leaving Starscream to his own devices.
They were riding in a fifteen passenger van full of honors college students. Students who didn't know me and didn't know about my so-called 'demon chibis.' And who also probably didn't have a clue who Starscream was and weren't likely to recognize him when he decided to start flying around the van.
Cries of "BEE! BEE!" came next, as one of the other girls panicked, seeing what appeared to be the biggest bumblebee ever to grace the earth with its presence. Starscream, thinking they were talking about the Autobot, whipped around and started shooting. Thankfully he was only using null rays, which sting a little but mostly just feel like one's limb has fallen asleep. This sowed more panic and confusion as the other students, mostly buried in work or conversations, suddenly heard laser fire and scrambled for cover.
Michelle, in her infinite wisdom, brought her Nursing Informatics book down on Starscream's body, smashing him down into the seat next to her and silencing the rest of the van.
"Some sort of weird cicada," Michelle explained, grinding the book down to let Starscream know that she was *not* happy.
Arcee was pointing and laughing so hard Michelle heard her and shot her an Icy Glare of Impending Doom™. That shut her up pretty quickly and she dove for cover in little Michelle's purse, not wanting to be on the receiving end of Michelle's book.
I kid you not, that so-called "book" of hers is four inches thick.
Starscream was picking pieces of himself out of the seat cushion for a good half-hour.
Out at the volleyball court…All I can say is, Chelsea had better be glad she's got such a boat of a car. It's the second-largest car Buick ever made, literally. She was at the men's volleyball tournament. Chelsea's the sports editor of the yearbook, and this was the only chance she'd have at going to one of the men's volleyball games. Otherwise, she'd have been at C-Kon, as well.
Chelsea was doing her usual thing; watching, camera at the ready, and waiting for that perfect action shot. This was not quite what Megatron wanted to do.
After ruining several good shots and single-handedly exposing an entire roll of film, Chelsea was fed up with his actions and locked him in her car.
A car that is a veritable tank.
Megatron, being the devious little monster he is, figured out a way to hotwire it. After a little maneuvering of other objects in the car, he soon had the brake pedal braced down and he returned to the steering column. He changed gear, throwing the car into forward, and returned to the pedals, shifting the heavy book he'd found from the brake to the gas pedal. The car roared to life, leaping from the parking lot. Megatron cackled with glee as he flew back up to the steering wheel, running the thing like a hamster on a wheel.
There is a reason chibis shouldn't drive. The lack of ways to reach the brake is one of them. Megatron had the gas floored and was racing across one of the many fields adjacent to the lot; after nearly running an entire track team down, he found a ditch and ran Chelsea's poor Buick into the embankment.
Chelsea saw her car drive out of the parking lot on its own accord and watched in horror as Megatron's first time behind the wheel lasted a whole twenty seconds. She found her legs then and tore off after him, glad he'd crashed into the ditch and not the playground across the street.
Chelsea, needless to say, was not happy.
I doubt she'll be babysitting for me again.
At the Kokomo mall…Sarah, Katie and Joni all went shopping, taking Optimus Alt-Mode and Ultra Magnus on their first mall crawl.
Neither will talk about it.
I think Alt-Mode was glad to have someone to talk to, but really bored; Ultra Magnus was really not in the mood to go clothing shopping. Neither robot were really sure what the point to clothes shopping *is.* When the trio stopped at the food court, the two robots were ready to make their escape.
I'm not letting Ultra Magnus watch "Mission: Impossible" or ANY Bond movie ever again.
Sarah was alerted to the escape-in-progress when she heard Ultra Magnus humming the Mission: Impossible theme song.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, HUMMING. This story is far too contrived for me to be making it up.
Motioning for the others to watch, my three suitemates sat back and waited for the two 'bots to come running back. Ultra Magnus boosted Alt-Mode out of Sarah's purse before climbing out himself, jumping and landing on Alt-Mode's trailer. Both free, Alt-Mode peeled off, Magnus clinging to his roof, and they charged off into the sunset. Magnus was clinging for dear life to Alt-Mode's roof and whooping like a madman, pleased at how well their escape was going. Alt-Mode fairly flew across the recently waxed floor of the food court, his momentum barreling the two towards their freedom.
And straight into a great big, pink, gooey wad of gum.
Alt-Mode did everything he could think of; he spun his tires, he tried reverse, but he was completely stuck. Ultra Magnus pushed and pulled and pried, but he couldn't free the truck, either. Frustrated, he reluctantly turned to the only help he knew of: Sarah, Katie and Joni. Sarah freed the truck and was kind enough to take him to the bathroom and clean him up, as well.
They've both been sulking ever since they got home, as well.
I really didn't help the situation by bringing Bumblebee home. My two Decepticons were already outnumbered, after all, and both suffered mortifying defeats today at the hands of nursing books and tank-like Buicks. Starscream was lectured but I let him off fairly easily; he really hadn't done anything worse than being seen in public. The resulting chaos wasn't entirely his fault, and I was more than pleased when I was told he had only used null rays. Megatron is completely dismembered and reminding me more and more of the Black Knight, sitting up on the shelf. His limbs are all hidden in different places and Starscream's in a bad enough mood that he won't help Megatron out for a few days, despite the death threats.
Bumblebee is the first robot I've brought home that can transform. The other Autobots are jealous, for the most part; Alt-Mode is ecstatic that there's another vehicle of sorts. Once freed of my pocket and allowed to transform, however, Bumblebee made a highly amusing discovery.
"I'm bigger than you!" he crowed, pointing at Optimus, who was only shaking his head and muttering under his breath. Yes, ladies and gents, Bumblebee is a centimeter or two taller than the mighty Optimus Prime, *and* he can transform. Ironic to the bitter end, Bumblebee is now the Autobot army's greatest asset in their fight against Megatron.
He's never, ever going to shut up about it, either.
