And the spotlight to Greg!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, Transformers belong to Hasbro
Rating: T
***
Greg on cleaning duty
***
"Can you just lend me a servo, Steve?" Greg whined pleadingly, leaning a tad against the slippery mop. His back strut was killing him.
The other Vehicon only tilted his helm. As the two stared each other down, the Decepticons' third-in-charge, Soundwave, walked along the same corridor and paused by the duo. Silently he lifted one of his long digits and pointed.
"Sir?" Greg asked dumbfounded.
Steve leaned closer to his friend and whispered: "I think he's saying you missed a spot."
The Vehicons turned to look at the designated spot.
"It's squeaky clean," the flyer protested.
The Spy 'Con kept pointing.
Steve knelt down and scrutinized. "No, I think that's a stain. With a diameter of... uh, three millimeters."
"Three scrapping millimeters?!"
"You better sweep down this whole hall again. Happy working!" Steve hollered half running out of the scene, following after the eerie third-in-command.
The other Vehicon was left there, standing in the middle of the corridor, with a mop in his servo and an indescribably desperate look on his face plate.
He's never gonna finish, I'm afraid...