"Roommate! Roommate! Lookit lookit lookit!" I cried joyously, chasing Michelle through Wal-Mart, thrusting a box in her face. Michelle sighed in her long-suffering way and grabbed the box in order to read it, as I was bouncing so much there was no way she could clearly make out what it said.
"…Autobot medic Ratchet…" Michelle glanced up at me, raising an eyebrow. "What, some sort of sacrifice to appease me?" she asked. "I wouldn't mind if you sacrificed Megatron, but buying another toy… Don't you have enough?" I shook my head.
"It's *Ratchet,* roommate! Only the coolest medic *ever*!" I insisted, still hopping from foot to foot.
"Poptarts," Michelle began in that lecture tone I get a lot, "This says 'Transformers: Energon.' I thought you were boycotting that line."
"I'm boycotting Armada, and maybe he's just a recolor, like Silverbolt," I insisted.
"Are you *ever* going to finish painting him?" Michelle asked. I only shrugged, not honestly sure if I will or not.
Let me explain. See, the chibis are not my first Transformers. My first purchase was made about a week before I left home for this semester. The Energon line has a recolored Silverbolt, of the Beast Wars variety. I absolutely love Silverbolt and tell people on a regular basis that I'm going to marry him. When I saw this toy, I knew I needed to buy him.
Not only had they reissued my first Transformer love, they'd recolored him PURPLE and NEON GREEN. Frankly, nobody looks good in those colors, least of all my canine-raptor. I was on a mission: Silverbolt's honor had been tarnished by this repaint and I intended to fix that.
He's mostly finished, though I broke the cardinal rule of repainting (it was my first attempt!) and painted over his joints, more or less freezing him in one position for the rest of his existence. At least he won't be purple, right? I mean, honestly. His name is SILVERbolt. Not PURPLEbolt or REALLYUGLYREPAINTbolt. Silverbolt. And for the time being, he lives in a box in the top of the closet, hanging out until I get around to finishing him.
I took the box back from my roommate and resumed hopping from foot to foot.
"Should I buy him? Ratchet's so awesome," I insisted.
"I'm your roommate, not your mom. You don't need my permission."
"Yes I do, otherwise you'll be miffed for a week," I reminded her. Michelle sighed.
"Alright, fine. Go ahead." I giggled and broke into a run for the cashier.
After about twenty minutes of fiddling with the box, trying to free my new toy, and five minutes of actual play, I'd snapped him in two. Michelle heard my following "Oh, SHOOT" and quickly glanced over, preoccupied with driving.
"You broke him already, didn't you?"
"You saw nothing." I squinted down at the pieces in my hands. It was late, subsequently dark, and let me tell you, Ratchet is a really difficult 'bot to transform. All three of these factors worked against me and resulted in Ratchet's sudden and rather spectacular dismemberment. "I think he's supposed to come apart there," I realized, noticing it was a socket joint.
"Riiiight. That's what you say every time you break something in half."
"It's not half, per se…" Michelle groaned and ignored me as I fumbled to reconnect Ratchet's legs. He wasn't transforming as I thought he should, and that was annoying me. "I don't think he's a repaint. I think he's an entirely different toy," I realized out loud, intensely disappointed. I really don't mind repaints, as long as the toy itself is more or less identical to the original. With Ratchet, I was hoping maybe they'd tried to update his look somewhat by making him an SUV instead of a boxy ambulance, but keep him otherwise the same. I'm really, really good at guessing wrong.
Ratchet is positively hideous.
Let's get something straight here. Silverbolt in purple and neon green is awfully ugly, but at least he looks like something in both forms. Ratchet has the entire FRONT END OF A CAR for his left elbow. He also has no right hand, instead opting for a launcher that shoots some sort of weird-looking projectile that serves as the step on the undercarriage in vehicle mode. I guess I'm a stickler for symmetry- the G1 robots were all more or less symmetrical when in robot mode. The Energon line makes no such attempt.
I think I know why he was sold in vehicle mode. Hasbro/Takara/whomever wouldn't have made any money on him, otherwise.
"The real Ratchet's gonna be rolling in his post-Movie grave when he finds out about this," I muttered, frowning at the toy when I finally managed to put him back together and fully transform him. (I didn't even have to look at the instructions! This is proof that I'm far, far too stubborn for my own good.) Of course, it took me a good half-hour to finish, and we were already back in our room. Michelle glanced up from her book and rolled her eyes.
"Roommate… There is no 'real' Ratchet, he never really existed."
"Alternate dimensions, Michelle. Honestly- how do you think the chibis came to be alive?"
"I dunno, you give off some sort of weirdness radiation?" I giggled.
"That explains it!"
"Oh no…" Michelle groaned. "I take no responsibility for the monster I've created…"
"Only really, really weird people give off huge quantities of Weirdness Radiation™, which has the power to warp and distort reality around them! Roommate, you're a genius!"
"And you're irrevocably nuts. Play with your toy, I'm reading." I glanced back at the desk, sighing at Ratchet.
"You poor thing," I said, feeling true pity for the ugly little bugger. "You've got most of a car hanging off one arm, and no hand on the other… I don't think I want to call you 'Ratchet.' It just doesn't suit you."
"Miss Poptarts, who's this?" Optimus and the other Autobots were gathering around Ratchet, all curious as to who the new robot was.
"His name is Ratchet, but that's gonna change soon. He's an Autobot-" I could hear Megatron groan from the shelf- "And he's a medic of sorts, though he really doesn't look the part." Bumblebee poked Ratchet's leg, frowning when he realized he only came up to his knee.
"What the…?" Ratchet glanced around, confused and disoriented. "Where… Where am I?"
"Autobot base, suite 210!" Bumblebee crowed, cheerful as always. Ratchet frowned down at the little robot.
"What are you *talking* about, suite 210…?"
"It's a long story, trust me." Ratchet's head jerked around and he stared at me for a long moment before taking aim and firing his little sideboard-launcher straight for my head. I ducked and heard an angry yelp come from behind me.
"Roommate!" Michelle turned around and whipped the bit of plastic at me. "Get your toys under control!"
"Sorry… He's kinda disoriented, that's all," I apologized for 'the robot who will be temporarily known as Ratchet until I come up with a new name.' "Ratchet, this is my dorm room, I'm Poptarts, and this is my roommate, Michelle. You'll meet the others before too long. I think Optimus can fill you in on the rest of the details." Ratchet nodded vaguely, a bit shocked that his leader was now small enough to step on. I heard angry muttering from the Decepticon shelf and glanced up into the smoldering face of Megatron.
"Hey, once I find some Decepticons, I'll buy 'em," I said quickly, holding my hands up in a placating gesture. "But the Armada and Energon Decepticons are really, really ugly. I'm looking for some G1, don't worry."
"Good," he hissed, storming off to plot or whatever behind some of my reference books. I sighed, rolling my eyes. For all of my threatening, I can't send Megatron back- the company I bought him from doesn't want him, or any of the others, for that matter. I failed to notice the "No Returns" policy when I ordered him. Unless I finally get so sick of him I stick him in my blender, I'm stuck with Megatron's terrorizing forever.
That blender is starting to look real friendly.
