Chapter 2! My turn! Also, you can find MaxDOwt on Deviant Art by the same name, where we are also posting the chapters. Enjoy!
The morning was bright and sunny. Michael Bay stretched luxuriously and snuggled further under his bed's sheets, before a whine caused him to crack an eye open. There, at the foot of his bed, was his dog, Bonecrusher, who looked at him with sad puppy eyes before whining again. Michael sighed before sliding out of bed to let the now energetically bouncing dog outside.
Now resigned to being awake, he wandered into his kitchen for some breakfast. Right as he was opening his fridge for some milk, his phone rang. Raising an eyebrow and muttering a quizzical 'huh?' to himself, he slouched over to his cheerily ringing phone and glanced at the caller I.D.
"What in the world could Hasbro want this early?" Now suspicious, he tentatively answered. "Hello?" A strangely scratchy voice answered him. "This is the human 'Michael Bay', correct?" Michael frowned, now convinced that this was a prank call. He cradled the phone in the crook of his shoulder as he let Bonecrusher back inside.
"Alright, you stupid kids, I don't know how you got this number but- BONECRUSHER! Don't chew on that!" Bonecrusher looked up innocently from where he had been chewing on one of Michael's shoes.
The voice turned incredulous. "Bonecrusher? What do you mean, he can't possibly be there- Bonecrusher! Where are you?" An angry "WHAT THE FRAG DO YOU MEAN WHERE AM I? I'M OVER HERE REPAIRING YOUR PRIMUS-FORSAKEN TRINE-MATE! WHO I HATE, BY THE WAY!" was heard in the background, followed by a surprised "Whoa! Don't bring me into this! T.C., HELP!", which soon devolved into unintelligible bickering.
Michael held the now noise-filled ear piece away from him, staring at it incredulously. After a few seconds he pressed 'End Call', and set the phone back down on it's stand. He shook his head and started back to the kitchen, but hadn't even gone two steps before the phone rang again. He briefly considered letting it ring, but soon sighed and walked to answer it.
He took a deep breath before he put it to his ear. "Hello?" This time a overly friendly, cheerful voice answered him. "Mr. Bay! I'm sorry about that last call, my associate isn't very approachable." A venomous "Excuse me?" in that same scratchy voice from earlier could be heard in the background. The new speaker ignored it and continued into what sounded like a sales pitch.
"Mikey, can I call you Mikey?" He opened his mouth to reply, but the voice continued without pausing. "You see my- company and I are in need of a man with your unique talents! We're making a film, and we'd like you to direct! It's going to be a blockbuster, you'll love the script! We already have all the backing you'll need, and all your expenses will be completely covered!"
Michael blinked in astonishment. Surely this was a joke. "You're serious?" he questioned. "Completely!" the voice replied cheerily. He was almost afraid to ask this next question. "What's it about?" At this the phone went quiet for a few moments. "Well, if I could direct you to look outside into your backyard-" "What? Why do I need to look in my backyard?" A sigh could be heard.
"Mr. Bay, if you would please just look outside?" Michael was hesitant but walked to his backdoor and peered out his window, and then promptly freaked out. "WHAT IS THAT THING IN MY BACKYARD?" he shrilled. "That is the Buffalo Mine Protected Vehicle, commonly used by your United States Military! However if you'll watch for just a few more moments-"
When parts of the Buffalo started shifting, Michael had already come outside in an attempt to figure out just what was going on. He could only watch is surprise, fascination, and some fear as the already large vehicle rearranged itself into an even larger robot. Bonecrusher, who had snuck outside after him, bounded up the colossus and barked happily at it. It glared down angrily at the canine and growled. Bonecrusher didn't seem to mind and sat obediently at it's feet.
Michael was suddenly aware that the arm holding the phone had dropped to his side and that there was noise coming from it. He raised it to his ear and intelligently replied. "Huh?" The voice on the other end chuckled before it began. "That, Mikey, is Bonecrusher! We are a race of autonomous mechanical beings from Cybertron, a planet so far from here that even your most powerful telescopes couldn't see it."
He furrowed his brow. "Wait, you mean like the old cartoon? You're serious?" What was he saying? Of course they were serious! There was the giant alien robot- the Decepticon- that he had named his dog after! Said Decepticon grumbled to himself. "...Hate dogs..." His dog just wagged his tail and panted happily, nonplussed by namesake's hatred.