To Catch a 'Bot
Transformers belongs to Hasbro. Venture Bros belongs to Jackson Publick and Doc Hammer.
Chapter 1
The Monarch, alight upon his mighty throne, studied his arch-nemesis with the well-trained eye of a tiger swallow. A butterfly, by all appearances harmless, had made its way into the Venture compound and now spied upon the unsuspecting scientist and his latest creation.
One of the Monarch's henchmen – a mindless drone and ruthless killing-machine – astutely remarked, "That's a really big robot."
"Silence!" The Monarch cried, slamming a wrathful fist against his armrest. "That is not just a really big robot, but a creation perhaps worthy of even The Monarch. It is of the utmost importance that we steal it to use for our own nefarious purposes!"
The henchmen shifted uncomfortably. Stealing things from Venture meant entering the Venture Compound. And entering the Venture Compound meant encountering Brock Samson. And encountering Brock Samson almost always meant death. Mindless drones or no, the henchmen weren't big on death.
One brave henchman at last remarked, "So, er, how are we supposed to carry it?"
The Monarch rolled his eyes. "Morons." He turned to Dr. Girlfriend. "Dr. Girlfriend!"
A husky baritone voice replied, "What?"
The Monarch blinked. "You know. Do the thing."
"What thing?"
"Oh, I don't know. The thing we rehearsed. The thing where I shout 'Dr. Girlfriend!' and you push the button that reveals my dastardly scheme to everyone else. You know, that thing."
Dr. Girlfriend rolled her eyes and began to work at the control panel. "You don't have to be sarcastic," she muttered, doing the thing.
The control room's screen flickered then switched to a live feed of The Cocoon's cargo bay and hangar. Or it would have been The Cocoon's cargo bay and hangar if Henchman Number 21 did not have his out-of-focus face shoved into the camera.
"Is this thing on?" He asked in the same way every idiot caught on camera asks, despite the obvious blinking red light.
"Of course it's on!" 24 shouted from somewhere off screen. "Now back up. You're so close, I can see your nose hairs and it's disgusting!"
"Okay, I just wanted to double check. I mean, The Monarch's gonna be pissed if everything isn't just perfect."
The Monarch was in fact resting his forehead on his palm, head shaking with the long-suffering look of a martyr. On camera, 21 at last stepped back so that The Monarch's latest creation – also hidden under a large white sheet – came into focus.
Rising out of his seat, The Monarch began, "I ask you, what better way to steal a giant robot, than to build a giant robot thief?"
"I dunno. We could use a crane."
"What? Who said that?" Monarch scanned the masked faces of his Henchmen, but no one 'fessed up. He shouted, "That's a dumb idea! How would we get a crane in the Venture Compound? And where would the crane go once it got the giant robot? Anyway, that was a rhetorical question, so shut up!"
Everyone shut so The Monarch could continue in a testier, less self-satisfied tone. "Of course, to build a giant robot is its own challenge; one that even The Mighty Monarch required assistance for." The Monarch pressed the speaker button on his armrest. "Megatron!"
The camera jumped in time with the sound of heavy metallic footsteps, and a large gray robot appeared on screen, moving to stand beside the sheet-covered object.
The Monarch gestured. "This is my associate, Megatron!"
"Greetings puny Earth-germs." Megatron acknowledged the henchmen as he gestured to the white sheet. "What you see here is a perfect blending of superior Cybertronian technology with Earth's excellent, but admittedly puny, sense of style."
Clearly Megatron and The Monarch had spent many an hour rehearsing, for The Monarch immediately jumped in, "Yes, our creation, housed in an impenetrable titanium form, nevertheless has the deadly grace of a butterfly. Gentlemen!" He glanced at Dr. Girlfriend. "And Dr. Girlfriend! I present to you...
"Flutterwing!"
The sheet fell off and the henchmen could only stare. As the silence lengthened into something long and uncomfortable, both Megatron and The Monarch began to fidget with uncertainty.
At last Megatron demanded, "Well, flesh tubes! What do you think?"
21 volunteered, "It's very...pink."
"I don't like it," Brock muttered.
Venture popped another pill and shrugged. "You don't like anything. I told you already, there's no need to worry. They'll pay the rent, hang around the compound and after I take Duskbird to the Symposium, they'll leave."
Brock responded with an unhappy grunt. Hank and Dean, on the other hand, appeared overjoyed at the arrival of the Autobots now shuffling into the main hangar.
"Gee golly! Look at the size of 'em!" Hank exclaimed.
"Yeah! Think of all the larger-than-life adventures they must go on!" Dean rejoined.
"Go Team Venture!" The boys did their thing.
Venture rolled his eyes. "Now, now, boys, it's a bit early for that, don't you think?"
One of the robots stopped in front of him then kneeled so Venture was closer to optic-level. As it spoke, the LED-lit ears glowed blue.
"You must be Dr. Venture. I'm Wheeljack, chief scientist of the Autobots, and these are my companions, Ironhide and Arcee."
The sturdily-built red mech turned with a casual salute, and spoke in a lazy Texas drawl, "Ironhide, at your service."
"And I'm Arcee," the slender pink mech announced in a decidedly feminine voice.
"Yes, yes, because I really care," Venture greeted them with his usual charm. "Look, Energon is in that fridge over there, your rooms are in the west hangar and anything you step on, you buy, are we clear?"
Wheeljack looked mildly taken aback, "Well, sure, but I thought as fellow scientists, we could –"
"And I guess you thought wrong." Venture interrupted. "The day I need scientific advice from an over-sized toaster is the day that –"
"I feel such shock! Such repulsion!"
Venture paused, "Well that too, but I meant –"
"Mr. Venture!" The voice cut in again, this time ringing loud with the power of Deep Magic, forged in the bowels of an unborn world and hardened by Enzauh, god of Chill Chaos.
"Orpheus," Venture muttered between clenched teeth. If the voice hadn't tipped him off, the accompanying background music of equal drama would have.
Orpheus strode across the hangar, taking unusually large steps, and leveled an accusing finger at Venture.
"The levels of your depravity never cease to amaze me, Dr. Venture! I could forgive harvesting the sorrow of an orphan child and I could even ignore replacing my chunky peanut butter with that foul smooth kind that is not even formed from 'all-natural' ingredients, but this!" He gestured for emphasis. "This, I cannot let pass!"
Venture pinched the bridge of his nose and asked with exaggerated patience, "Did someone forget to take his medication today?"
"Ah. Sarcasm. How...typical." Dr. Orpheus sneered back. "I resent that you would imply my concern for human souls and the precarious balance of our world in the infinite cosmos has something to do with my lack of drug use. No! I have not forgotten my medication, nor have I forgotten my place as guardian of this plane of existence."
His hands began to glow with tendrils of energy, and he pointed an accusing finger at Ironhide. "Metal monster! Relinquish that soul you hold captive within your accursed mechanical parts!"
A bolt of magic flew out and struck the mech squarely on the shin.
"Ow! What was that for?" Ironhide exclaimed with chagrin, rubbing the scorch marks on his armor.
"Silence, golem!" Orpheus performed a neat tuck and roll then shot off another round of magic. The bolts again struck Ironhide on the leg, and caused the mech to hop in pain.
"Son of a capacitor! I'm gonna squish yer flesh bits into coolant!"
Arcee and Wheeljack rushed to restrain him, now that he had switched his hand into its gun mode. Ironhide tried to pull it out of Wheeljack's grasp long enough to aim at Orpheus, but Arcee stood squarely in front of him so the mech could not get a clean shot.
At once Brock ran over to pull the boys away from the stomping metallic feet, but Venture merely sighed. "Orpheus, can you stop shooting your magic fairy dust or whatever at the other tenants?"
Orpheus paused. "Tenants? These are...guests, like me?" The magic fire faded from his fingertips. "But I thought they were your latest project. Robots come to life by draining the very essence of unfortunate humans to sustain their unquenchable thirst for raw energy."
"For once, no, but that's definitely going onto my 'To Do' list."
The magician's expression changed to embarrassment, and as the last traces of his righteous indignation faded, so did the background music. "Oh. Well then." He looked up at Ironhide, who had lowered his gun-arm at Arcee's insistent whisperings but still seethed. "I'm terribly sorry about the whole 'shooting bolts of Arcane Magic' at your legs while calling you a vile abomination that should not walk this earth. I've got rice pudding in my quarters if that can, in any way, make my behavior right."
After a dangerous pause, Ironhide's hand switched out of gun mode and his chassis visibly relaxed. "Well, I guess it was a reasonable misunderstandin' and you humans do make pretty good pudding."
"Then it is settled!" Orpheus proclaimed as the background music returned. "At a later date, I will adjourn with the sentient machine to feast upon my supply of delicious and freshly-made rice pudding!"
As Orpheus started for the exit, Venture shook his head in irritation. "That's it? Not that I want you to stay or anything, but you come into my hangar, try to kill the other Compound tenants, decide to eat pudding, then leave? Why the hell did you come here in the first place?!"
"Oh yes." Dr. Orpheus looked over in surprise. "I'd rather forgotten in all the commotion." He raised a clenched fist skyward. "Mr. Venture, my daughter seeks a cup of sugar for the creation of snickerdoodles – a variety of sugar cookies that Pumpkin informs me are quite tasty. You make partake of them for your assistance!"
"Yeah, whatever. Sugar's in the kitchen, take as much as you want, just get out of my sight."
"Much obliged!" Dr. Orpheus vanished in a poof of smoke as he astral-projected to the kitchen.
"Geez, I'm beginning to agree with you that this was a bad idea," Venture remarked to Brock.
Brock only grunted. He was staring at Arcee, who now carried a crate labeled "Danger: Possibly Explosive" over to Wheeljack. As the 'bot thanked her, her optics met Brock's eyes and she coughed with nervousness. After a moment of hesitation, she ducked out of the main hangar.
Brock looked over at Venture as if noticing him for the first time. "Hey Doc, I got something to take care of. Look after the boys, okay?" Before Venture could reply, his bodyguard strode out of the hangar, trailing the pink 'bot into the hallway.
"Wha...but I," Venture caught sight of Hank and Dean out the corner of his eye. "Boys! How many times do I have to tell you not to play with ray guns created by giant robots?!"
The twins had rooted through Wheeljack's crate and, having emptied a sizable pile on the floor, now attempted to level guns larger than themselves at each other. After Venture's chastisement, they set the weapons down with obvious disappointment.
"But Pa!"
"No buts. Now you boys go on play somewhere outside and far away from your father."
Shoulders slumped, they slunk out of the hangar and into the sizeable fields surrounding the Compound.
"Gee, Pa sure was sore," Hank muttered.
"Now, Hank," Dean cut in. "He's got a lot of scientist-stuff to do before the big Symposium, so we'll just have to find our own adventure!"
"Dean, sometimes you got a real good head on those shoulders of yours!" Hank nodded with approval. "I don't suppose you know of any mysteries that need solving?"
"Wrong again, dear brother. In fact I do suppose!" Dean fished in his pocket and pulled out a palm-sized metal cylinder. Its only distinguishing feature was an invitingly large red button on the top.
Hank looked impressed. "What is it?"
"I don't know. I found it in Wheeljack's stuff. It was the only human-sized thing in there. I call this 'The Case of the Big Red Button!'"
"Can we push it?" Hank poked a finger at the big red button, but Dean just as swiftly pulled it out of reach.
He gave his brother a disapproving glare. "If you push it, it won't be a mystery any more! We should wait till we gather more clues."
Disappointment crossed Hank's face, but it at once turned to jubilation when he glanced down at the ground before them.
"You mean like this?" He stooped down and snatched up a small red and black tape nestled in the grass. "A Mysterious Tape lying on the ground, and we find it just after obtaining the Big Red Button. Coincidence? I think not."
"Ahh, the mystery deepens." Dean rubbed his chin, his eyes scrunched in an expression of great wisdom. "Let's keep going while we've still got a trail."
Hank would have complied had the tape not suddenly transformed into a metallic eagle. As it sprouted wings, yellow eyes glowing in malevolence, the creature grew in size and let out an angry hiss. The boys panicked.
"Tape-deck poltergeist! Run!"
They had time for only a few staggering steps before the mech reached out with gleaming robotic talons and grabbed them by the shoulders. Cawing in triumph, Laserbeak kicked on his afterburners and shot toward The Cocoon – human captives in tow. If they tried to scream, it was lost to the fast-moving winds of Laserbeak's wake.