So, I'm Techno-Organic... Deal with it!

Darkness Rising Part 2

Sire: And since you now know of our existence, I fear that, as of last night, the Decepticons know of yours.

Jack: Got it. If we spot any strange vehicles, call 911.

Gear: Like that would work you idiot.

I mean, what emergency response unit would believe you are being attacked by alien robots. I know only one force that might believe you, only because they are my cover family and only one member of that team would even believe you.

Miko: Are you insane? I'm living a dream here in bot-swana. And I will not allow you or anyone else to shatter it!

Sire: It is best that you three remain under our watch. At least, until we can determine our enemies intentions.

Ratchet: Optimus, with all due to respect, the human children are in as much danger here as anywhere.

Jack: children?

Ratchet: They have no protective shell. If they get underfoot, they will go...squish.

I'll admit by this point, I was already close to erupting. I had enough paperwork already, adding these three (no offence to them) was going to add more. Commenting on my size just tipped the scale over.

Gear: Ratchet. What did I say about talking about my height?

Ratchet: Oh Scrap...

Since we had guests, I let him have a five second head start, before I started to chase him.

Ratchet: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Gear: Why are you running!? Why are you running?

The bots know not to anger me, but Ratchet has always tipped a little too close to the edge. I was still chasing him around until the proximity sensors went off.

Ratchet: Thank the Allspark!

Gear: You won't be so lucky next time, Ratchet!

Jack: Uh, what's that?

Bee: Proximity sensor. Someone's up top.

Raf: Proximity sensor. Someone's up top.

There is only one person who comes down here, Agent Fowler. At times, my dad will visit, but he lets me know beforehand. I will admit my cover family have become family to me. So, knowing it was Agent Fowler, I dashed to my room and grabbed a present for him. I bet you can't guess what it is. I headed back to the main area and could hear Agent Fowlers yelling.

Fowler: 7 wrecks, 34 fender benders, a 3-hour traffic jam, and on a particular note, numerous reports of a speeding motorcycle of unknown make and a black-and-yellow custom muscle car. And other reports of a teenager on roller blades being reckless using blasters. So, anything you care to get off your tin chest, Prime?

Sire: We have the situation under control, Agent Fowler.

Gear: Not like you have to do any of the paperwork for those incidents, anyways. You only check my reports, grade them, and then send them to the higher ups.

Fowler: Watch your tone cadet. They're back aren't they?

Gear: Clearly if we have caused this much commotion they are back.

Fowler: Who got you so ticked off? Anyway, it's time to wake up the Pentagon.

Sire: Hear me, Agent Fowler. We are your best, possibly your only defense against the Decepticon threat.