To Catch a 'Bot
Transformers belongs to Hasbro. Venture Bros belongs to Jackson Publick and Doc Hammer.
Chapter 2
"Wasn't Flutterwing a My Little Pony?"
"Actually no. Although Flutter Ponies were a variety of My Little Pony, distinguished by their small size and gossamer wings, the name 'Flutterwing' was never used for any individual figurine."
The team of Decepticons, which accompanied Megatron to The Cocoon, now made themselves at home. Already they had set up a makeshift headquarters in the cargo bay, and The Monarch deployed his henchmen to deliver their supply of Energon. Although the henchmen complied with their usual enthusiasm, the heavy lifting caused 21's asthma to flare, so he and 24 had no choice but to pause and discuss the intricacies of Flutterwing, The Monarch's three-story tall pink robot with butterfly wings.
"I could have sworn my little sister had one called Flutterwing," 24 continued with dogged insistence. "It was pink with blue hair and there were wind chimes on its ass."
"I told you, there's no Flutterwing! You just described Wind Song, who is one of Flutter Ponies but –"
"Did you say Flutter Wing?"
21 threw up his hands in disgust. "Wind Song. Wind Song! Dude, they're toys collected by twelve-year-old girls. Why is it so hard for you to keep them straight?"
"I don't know," 24 crossed his arms. "Maybe because they're really gay."
"It's that kind of ignorant attitude that takes the fun out of figurine-collecting." As he spoke, 21 mirrored 24's defensive posture. "My Little Ponies have just as much value as G.I. Joes or McFarlane Toys, you know."
"I didn't say they weren't valuable; I just said they're gay. G.I. Joes are gay too."
"G.I. Joes are real American heroes! How can they be gay?!"
"How can they not be gay? I don't trust any burly man with a mustache behind me. I saw that episode of OZ."
"OZ takes place in a prison. The G.I. Joes are America's –"
"Why the hell are you standing there doing nothing?" The Monarch screamed at the two henchmen as he passed. "Get back to work!"
"Yes sir!" 24 hurried back to the cubes of Energon and 21 wheezed after him.
Starscream, who lounged by the cargo bay door, sneered in contempt. "Well at least you're good for something, even if it is only ordering around idiots."
The Monarch stopped in mid-step to return the Seeker's venomous look. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"You heard me!" Starscream took the few steps needed to loom over The Monarch. "The only ones that listen to you are idiots. Certainly Megatron is one for joining forces with you."
Rather than becoming intimidated, The Monarch shrieked up at the machine, his fist quaking with rage. "This plot is nothing without me! I created the original designs for Flutterwing!"
"Yes, and you made it pink. And then named it Flutterwing. It sounds like some kind of squishy, organic equine."
"Flutterwing is based on a butterfly! Both beautiful and deadly, it is Earth's most fearsome creature. And it's not pink; it's fuchsia." The Monarch's feeler eyebrows twisted even more as he hissed, "Fuchsia is Nature's camouflage!"
Not at all impressed, the Seeker crossed his arm units. "Hmph. Fuchsia or pink, it doesn't matter. As Megatron's second-in-command, I hereby revoke your naming and coloring privileges."
The Monarch's face blanched as he sputtered in fury, "You...you can't do that! Anyway, you're just a second-in-command. As first-in-command, I retain all naming privileges and you're an asshole, so piss off!"
"Robots have no need for your primitive Earth assholes," Starscream informed him. "And once I overthrow Megatron and take my rightful place as Decepticon leader, I will crush you and your organic followers!"
"Traitorous junk heap!" Springing into action, The Monarch emptied a round of his lethal darts into Starscream's ankle.
Even if the projectiles had managed to pierce the robot's armor rather than bounce off harmlessly as they did in actuality, the poison still would have failed to enter Starscream's non-existent bloodstream.
The Monarch seemed to realize the fatal flaw of his plan when Starscream cackled, "Ha! Your Earth-weapons are no match for my superior Cybertronian design. Face my wrath, flesh-tube!"
A mechanical foot crashed toward The Monarch, but due to some glitch in Starscream's system, the Seeker misjudged by several feet. His foot not only missed the intended victim entirely, but also clipped the ground, causing him to slip. As he tumbled to the floor with a metallic crash, the floor quaked in the aftershocks of his fall, and The Monarch lost his balance and joined the Seeker in rolling on the ground in pain.
As used to blatant incompetence as the henchmen were, the henchmen still looked away in embarrassment. Because the Decepticons expected this sort of thing to happen every two or three Earth days, they mostly ignored Starscream's flailing, except for Blitzwing who let out a hiccupping giggle. Rolling his optics, Astrotrain elbowed his friend in the side and ordered him back to work.
Several awkward moments passed before The Monarch and Starscream could stifle their groans enough to rise to their feet. They had only halfway accomplished this task when Megatron stomped through the door, Dr. Girlfriend almost running to keep up with the giant mech's stride.
"Starscream, stop being an idiot," Megatron shouted without bothering to look over where Starscream still struggled to stand. The Decepticon leader instead regarded his human partner. "Monarch, we have good news."
"Oh?"
With Dr. Girlfriend watching, The Monarch tried to act nonchalant, as if he hadn't been busy embarrassing himself for the past half-hour. He pretended to be bending over in order to tie a shoelace, having forgotten that his beloved Butterfly Clogs lacked laces. Dr. Girlfriend thoughtfully pretended not to notice.
Megatron, who really had not noticed, gestured for a boxy blue robot to step forward. "Soundwave, tell The Monarch what you've found," he commanded.
Giving his leader a courteous nod, Soundwave addressed The Monarch in a flat, mechanical voice. "My sub-unit, Laserbeak, kidnapped two carbon-based organisms from the Venture Compound and has taken them prisoner in a nearby Decepticon hideout. They appear to be upgrades of carbon life form Thaddeus Venture – what you humans call his offspring."
"What? You kidnapped his kids? What were you thinking? This is horrible! Now Brock is going to come here and shove our kneecaps up our – " The Monarch paused as understanding came to him like the slow, but persistent, waves of a butterfly's wings.
"Yes, of course. You're robots. You don't have asses to shove kneecaps up." With a cackle, The Monarch wrung his hands in triumph. "And when Brock comes here looking for those two insufferable larvae, you robots will make quick work of him, while we strike at the Venture Compound and take my foe's mighty invention!"
"Yes, it is an excellent plan," Megatron conceded. "I hoped to meet this Brock flesh-organism. He sounds almost worthy of battling the mighty Megatron."
"Still, we should remove their wristwatch communicators so it'll take him longer to track them down," The Monarch decided. He had his doubts about Megatron's ability to survive a Brock-encounter.
Giving Soundwave a sharp nod, Megatron commanded, "Soundwave, watch over our prisoners, and relieve them of those communicators. Make sure they are properly jammed."
"Yes, Lord Megatron," Soundwave bowed before moving toward the cargo door. As the robot launched himself into the sky, The Monarch gestured to his own henchmen.
"Prepare Flutterwing! I will accompany my creation and a small team of elite henchmen in the theft of Venture's robot." He turned to Dr. Girlfriend. "Pookums, I leave you in charge of the remaining minions."
"Yes, dear." Dr. Girlfriend gave The Monarch a fond look and kissed his cheek. "Oh, I'm so proud of you," she whispered to him in her husky voice. "You and Flutterwing are going to do great."
The Monarch blushed. "Funny face, not in front of the giant robots," he muttered, but he wore a pleased expression.
She merely winked before walking off to direct the henchmen.
Starscream sneered. "How that female unit stands your presence is beyond computation. I'd rather stick my transistors in an acid bath than work with you."
"Starscream," Megatron announced. "You'll work with The Monarch and his team on their mission."
"But Megatron –"
Megatron backhanded the Seeker, who again crashed to the floor. "If I wanted to hear your infernal excuses and whining, I would not smack you every time you switched on your vocal processors. Now go!"
The Monarch gave a small snigger of triumph as he went over to inspect Flutterwing. A cursory glance satisfied him, and he shouted, "Bring Flutterwing's processors online!"
Starscream stumbled to the hangar door and stood beside the human-made robot. As it powered up, he gave the butterfly bot a resentful look. Flutterwing had begun to move, his magenta optics flashing to life as he examined his surroundings for the first time.
The Monarch looked too pleased as he proclaimed, "Flutterwing, I am your father. Join me and together we can rule the planet as father and robot."
Flutterwing analyzed the life forms within the hangar as he considered his creator's command. After a moment of hesitation, he nodded and took a lurching step forward.
The Monarch coughed. "Of course, first we have steal Dr. Venture's stupid robot, so in the meantime, you're going to fly me over there."
A flicker of confusion passed across Flutterwing's face but it took only a few more astroseconds for him to acknowledge and transform into his alt-mode – a mechanical butterfly as pink as the robotic form.
As The Monarch clambered up to the cockpit, he unleashed one final monologue. "Let us fly, Flutterwing! And like a moth to the flame, we shall unleash a hurricane of destruction!"
Grinding his teeth, Starscream hissed, "You're mixing your metaphors, you imbecile."
If Starscream's knowledge of Earth-culture impressed The Monarch, he revealed it only by shouting back, "Shut up! Flutterwing, launch!"
The mechanical butterfly flapped its mighty wings and wafted out the hangar door. It was about as intimidating as one might expect of a robotic pink butterfly. Starscream looked like he might vomit coolant in humiliation at any moment.
"Starscream..." Megatron warned him in a tone that implied all sorts of violence.
For one astrosecond, Starscream looked as if he might try to inspire another coup rather than follow a pink butterfly robot, but a glimpse of Megatron's increasingly irate expression made him think twice.
"Slag it. As you command," he muttered then dove out the hanger door. Midair he transformed into a jet and shot after Flutterwing who flittered with surprising speed.
As Blitzwing watched Starscream and Flutterwing disappear on the horizon, he gathered enough courage to ask, "So wha'do we do now, boss?"
Megatron's optics homed in on the triple-changer and gleamed red and angry. "Guard the base, of course. And maybe try acting competent for once." The Decepticon leader stormed off to the main part of The Cocoon.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, 24 asked, "Is your boss always this pissed off?"
Astrotrain shrugged, "Nah. Only when he talks to Starscream, really. Deep down, in his core processors, he's actually thrilled. I mean, our plans never go this smoothly when it's just us."
21 gave a sage nod. "Honestly it's the same for us. I can't remember the last time one of us didn't f*** it up."
Mixmaster's grin was only a little loopy as he decided, "The boss is pleased, Starscream ain't around to run his vocal unit, an' for once we don't hafta deal with those Auto-dweebs. I gotta say, today's goin' awfully well. What do you flesh tubes say to a little toast?"
Wheeljack dumped out the contents of the crate. His optics had already scanned at full magnification, but he wanted to be positive, so he went through item by item. When he finished rooting through his tools for the third time, he accessed his memory cache to replay the earlier events of the day.
He knew with a 99.99998% certainty that he had placed the device into the crate, so it could not be back at his lab. Nor was it here. His emotion engine registered mild concern.
"Hey, Dr. Venture!"
Venture looked up from the readouts on Duskbird. "Yes?" he asked in a way that clearly meant "leave me alone."
The robot did not get the hint. "Have you seen my Auto-Alt Transfixatron?"
"No." Venture returned to his work.
"But I didn't even tell you what an Auto-Alt Transfixatron looks like!" The scientist bot sounded suspicious.
After a weary pause, Venture swiveled his chair around to fully face Wheeljack. He sighed. "Okay. Fine. What does your AutoCAD Fixadent look like?"
"The Auto-Alt Transfixatron," Wheeljack explained in a patient voice but his blue optics gleamed with the beginnings of irritation, "is a device I created for human use. It sends out an electrical signal that reroutes the subroutines of all mechs in a fifty foot radius, forcing them to convert then lock into their alt-mode."
"Whassawhonow?"
"It changes us Transformers back into cars and keeps us there."
"Huh." Venture scratched his chin. "That's not a half-bad invention."
"Yeah, but as even you could imagine, in the wrong hands, it'd be devastating. It's only a prototype. The circuitry is encased in a simple metal cylinder, with a red button to activate the program. Have you seen it?" Wheeljack asked again with increasing urgency.
"Uh..." Rather than waste his time trying to recall if he'd seen the device somewhere in the lab, Venture spent the few precious moments of stalling to come up with excuses. "Lemme ask Brock. I'll be right back," Venture lied.
Venture hopped out of his seat and wandered from the lab. Only when he was out of Wheeljack's line-of-optics did he wonder, "Where the hell is Brock, anyway?"
"Dr. Venture to Brock," With his wristwatch communicator pinched between his fingers, Venture spoke in a low voice.
Only static answered.
"Hmm, must've been turned off." A sinking feeling began to worm its way through Venture's stomach. He remembered the last time this had happened – when Brock had died, but Venture managed to resurrect him with the unholy magic of Dia de los Muertos.
Or something.
By the time Brock had risen from the grave like some kind of ultra-violent zombie Jesus, Venture had been running on no kidneys, a H.E.L.P.e.R dialysis machine and a bottle of Mexico's finest gut-rot, so the events were pretty hazy, even at the time.
With some trepidation, Venture slunk down the corridor. He considered turning on the GPS system that would locate his bodyguard whether or not the communicator functioned, but before he could flip it on, he heard a distant, repetitive noise.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
If anything, a childhood of boy-adventuring had taught him that such a noise could only result in trouble. Venture's first instinct was to turn around, but that would mean not finding Brock as well as returning to Wheeljack's increasingly unfriendly gaze.
Also there was that whispered urging of his subconscious that somehow sounded exactly like his father. You hear that, Rusty? I'm not sure myself what it is, but we'll never find out if we stay here!
His father – tall and strong and everything he hated and admired all at once. And always that smile, always that unconditional love. Venture ground his teeth. He could never say no to his father's voice, even when it was just his subconscious being a bitch.
"Screw this," Venture muttered as he began to follow the thumping. As he walked, he fumbled around in his pocket for some condensed courage. When he managed to pull out his special blend of self-medication, the scientist popped a couple tablets into his mouth.
No point dealing with reality while sober.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The thumping had definitely gotten louder, and Venture stopped before the door to the noise's origin. The pills could no longer deaden all his senses, but they did create a nice sensation of floating, which Venture decided was good enough.
"Oh, what the hell. Just do it, Rusty," Venture muttered to himself.
Yet when he reached for the door's handle, the sound abruptly stopped. The scientist stopped as well, hesitant and somehow even more uncomfortable in this strange, new silence. After taking a moment to re-gather his nerves (and pop an extra pill for luck) Venture pushed open the door.
Venture had expected any number of things, most of them involving some form of mummy or Frog Warrior. He did not expect the pink robot – Arcee, or something equally ridiculous sounding – to stagger out.
She almost stepped on him, but leaned against the doorframe at the last moment so her foot did not crush his juicy bits.
"Oh! Sorry about that, Dr. V!" She giggled in a way that said it all before weaving her way down the hall and back toward the hangar.
A wave of nausea passed over Venture, and he was too busy feeling sick to notice Brock zipping up his pants and coming to stand next to him. His bodyguard was smoking a cigarette.
"What's up?" Brock asked in a husky, sedate voice.
All of Venture's concerns and fears quickly and easily drained away into shock and horror. He pointed after Arcee's retreating figure and could not quite keep his jaw from hanging open.
"How did you...where does she...wait, never mind. I don't want to know." Shaking his head to clear out any unnecessary images, Venture continued in a more biting tone, "Look, I have important scientist-type business to take care of. Why don't you go put on a shirt and look after the boys, hmm?"
Venture snatched the cigarette from Brock's mouth and dropped it to the floor. Luckily for Venture, Brock looked more bemused than angry as the scientist ground it out under his heel.
"And what have I told you about smoking in the compound?" Venture snapped. "Now go and do your bodyguard thing. Shoo!"
Venture stalked away, the Auto-Alt Transfixatron entirely forgotten.