TransFormers: War Of The Digestives

Author's Note:  Time for chapter 3, then.  For the uneducated ones among you, the title is derived from the cartoon episode 'War Of The Dinobots', although I offer no guarantees that this fic has anything remotely to do with that episode.  Now, honest and noble reviewers: roll out for the roll call!

MarinBlue:  Yes, more, more than you can possibly imagine…Mwuhahahaaa!

Pivot:  Order acknowledged.  Update proceeding.  Resistance.  Is.  Futile.

Skins Thunderbomb:  No need to thank me, and what happens next is what follows.

And hey-diddly-ho, let's get on with the show!

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Time:  1200 earth hours.  Location:  Arizona desert.

Grimlock shook the dust from his joints as something flew overhead; a big, silver, humanoid something.  For the average Autobot, this would be a cause for concern, as it took little imagination to identify the flying object as Megatron.  But this is Grimlock, so those rules don't apply.

"Hey!  Me Grimlock think persons can't fly!" the pea-brained one exclaimed, pointing at the lone figure.

"That's not a person, Grimlock," said an exasperated Mirage, believing himself, as ever, to be surrounded by inferiors.

"What then?"

"It's clearly Megatron, leader of our enemy's forces."

This was too much for Grimlock; 'enemy' had three syllables, after all.  "Uhhh…so we shoot now?"

Mirage shrugged.  "Sure.  It can't hurt."

Grimlock hefted his twin-barrelled rifle and, utilising the expert combat data Wheeljack and Ratchet inserted into his memory banks, shot himself three times in the chest, dead-centre.  He promptly collapsed and lay silent for a moment as the other Dinobots stared blankly ahead, thin strings of oil leaking through their open mouths.  Then he abruptly sat up and glared at Mirage.

"You say it no hurt!" the crazed 'bot accused, waving a fist at the outnumbered spy.

Mirage thought about using a witty comeback with extra sarcasm, but decided against it upon noticing the metallic lizard's meat-headed comrades encircling him.  "Eh, Byeeee!"  Mirage sharply activated his electro-disruptors, vanishing in a shimmer of air.

Grimlock really didn't like that.  "ME GRIMLOCK MUNCH HEAD OF COWARD!  If me could find him…"

Sludge's eyes suddenly came into focus.  "Hey, where the hell am I?"

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Time:  1200 Earth hours.  Location:  Decepticon Headquarters, Lower Floors.

Soundwave led Jazz down a seemingly neverending stream of darkened hallways, lined with cells.  Every cell seemed to contain some form of hideous monster or animal.

"Dude," said Jazz, again beginning to start up conversation with the blocky mech, "who are all these guys you've locked away?"

"Fellow.  Cybertronians."  Soundwave still couldn't be bothered to set his voice patterns to the default tone.  "Members.  Of.  The.  Beast.  Wars.  Series.  And.  The.  Generation.  One.  Pretenders."

"And you felt like locking them up because…?"

"Poor.  Market.  Performance.  Children.  Do.  Not.  Want.  To.  Play.  With.  Stupid.  Creatures."

One of the cell's inhabitants, a green-eyed cheetah, called to Jazz.  "Get me outta here, man!"

Soundwave promptly marched over to the offending creature's cage and stabbed it right between the eyes with an industrial strength cattle prod, knocking it out.

"No.  Talking.  In.  The.  Cage."

Arriving in a large hangar, Soundwave stalked away in the direction of a group of lime-green mechas who seemed to be having a siesta, buckets of cold coffee surrounding them.

"Constructicons.  Rise."

The brightly-coloured garbage-cans refused to move.  Soundwave turned up the 'volume' control on the side of his torso, and spoke considerably louder to the unconscious 'Cons.

"GET.  UP.  YOU.  LAZY.  SONS.  OF.  MICROSOFT.  POWERPOINT.  PUBLISHING."

The Constructicons woke with a bunch of assorted grumbling regarding last night's soap operas.

"Who dares disturb nap-time?"  The self-appointed 'leader' of the Constructicons (and deviser of their catchy name), Scrapper, demanded of the visitors.

"That.  Would.  Be.  Me."

"Then…" Scrapper took a deep breath, "…PREPARE FOR DEVASTATION!  CONSTRUCTICONS, UNITE!"

In their typical piece de resistance, the 'Cons stuck themselves together to create the oversized Devastator, which (for the benefit of those who have not had the 'pleasure' of seeing this moron in action) is a lime-green framework of a robot about three times the height of the average Decepticon.

Soundwave was unimpressed.  "I.  Knew.  You'd.  Do.  That."

Jazz, who was starting to feel like everyone had left him out of the story, decided to butt in.  "Hey, you look like a 'hard mech'; why don't YOU try opening this dang thing?"

Devastator stared blankly down at the small object the Autobot had deposited on the floor in front of him.  After five minutes of solid thinking, the five united-yet-separate minds decided on the most logical course of action.

"Devastator…CRUSH!"  yelled the behemoth, raising one foot up high…

~Ten Minutes Later~

The foot was still rising…

~Ten Minutes After That~

The foot had not yet reached its peak.  Jazz and Soundwave had long since lost attention, and were now playing Poketron on two linked Game Bot Advances.

~Twenty Minutes After Both Jazz And Soundwave Ran Out Of GBA Batteries~

"FINALLY!" exclaimed the oversized 'bot, as his foot went as far up as its limited joints allowed it to go.  "CRUSHHHHH!"

The foot came down with an impact akin to that of an airdrop of elephants.  About twenty elephants, give or take the odd hippo.

The foot promptly shattered, fragments of torn metal scattering over a large radius.  The echoing CLANG! woke Jazz and Soundwave from their stupor, and Devastator hopped around the room, balancing on his left foot while cradling the stump of his right with one hand.

"Owweee!  Owweee owweee owwweeeeee!" the big softy cried.

"Silence.  You.  Big.  Wimp."

"Primus!  That box ain't even dented!" Jazz exclaimed, quite truthfully; other than being less warm than it was at the start of our adventure, the container was unchanged.

"Devastator hurt!  Devastator want mommy!"  The big green mean machine promptly crawled into a small corner and sucked its thumb.

"Oh, brilliant.  You got any other genius ideas, cassette-man?"  Jazz was getting a bit fed up now.

"Impudence.  Will.  Not.  Be.  Tolerated." The comms-bot cracked his hand articulation points to emphasise his words.  This had little effect, however.


"Oh, bring it, tough guy!  You wanna see how far that mouth of yours'll get ya in a fight?"

"Prepare.  For.  Considerable.  Pain."

Before the situation could get any uglier, a section of the wall detonated inward, revealing a regal-looking purple mech with a sandcastle for a head and what appeared to be an orange trumpet stuck to its arm.  Cackling to itself, the robot swung its arm around and used said trumpet to fire a wide beam of pink stuff at Soundwave, decapitating the monotonic mech.

"Finally, my rise to power is complete!"  The new arrival waved his hands to the heavens in celebration.

"Uhh…dude…"  Jazz was confused.  "Who the hell are you?"

"My name is…"  The newcomer rose up in an attempt to look more grand, which failed.  "…GALVATRON!"

"A decepticon?  Then why did you blow up one of your most valuable soldiers?"

"To reinforce my own power base, fool!  It makes PERFECT sense!"  Looking around, Galvatron rolled his head back and screamed to the world…"BWAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

Jazz just stared.  Indeed, there is nothing more dangerous than a resourceful idiot.

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Author's Note:  That wasn't so bad, now was it?  Drop me a line if you have some good ideas, because I need all the help I can get on this one.  Oh, and if I don't update again before the 25th…Merry Christmas to one and all!

Microwave Jockey