Living in Transformers Prime

Hurt

Joyce kept calling and calling until I decided to use Optimus Prime as a scape coat. Two days ago when the Autobots were asleep, I used the IDS to guide me drawing Decepticon Symbols all over the Autobot symbols in the base and the individuals. No one knew who did it because someone broke the security cameras.

“Who’s this?” Joyce asks, well more like yelled over the phone.

I could imagine Optimus looking down to me, confused why I had handed him the phone.

“Why give me the phone?” Optimus asks.

I rigged the base doors to play ‘The Touch’ every time Optimus walked into the Base. Optimus went through the door multiple times to make sure it wasn’t him imaging it. I know hearing the Touch exists in this universe sounds absurd when it shouldn’t exist. But it does exist in this world for a different show.  

“She’s been grilling me for ages.” I said.

I also rigged the doors to play ‘I’m blue’ by Eifflel 63 everytime Arcee walks in.

“Your name is Why Phone?” Joyce’s voice is easily heard over the phone. “Like Phone tell me what’s been making Pond  hang up on me!”

I’m surprised she didn’t use the word ‘like’ more than two times in one sentence.

“How long?” Optimus asks.

“For like, two weeks.” Joyce said.

 “She’s been helping us getting rid of a scraplet nest and planting indoor security systems for any intruders.” Optimus said, with all the truth in the world in his voice. “Her current state of mind is very  .  . .”

“Serious?” Joyce asks.

“Crazy.” Optimus said.

I ditched Sir Optimus Prime with Lady Joyce of chattery.Arcee is still napping so I decided to do something that is really unconventional in the world of Transformers. I spray painted Arcee’s armor into black. The IDS does have ear buds to put in my ears. Although no one bothered because they were so busy.

______                                                 ______                             _________

.  .  .Three hours pass  .  .  .

“Who painted Arcee?” Optimus asks.

Optimus had all the kids—and I do count as an organic, kind of—for this.

“Painted .  .  . what?” Jack said, sounding surprised,

“I thought she was trying out a new color.” Raf said, as I heard his glasses were being shifted.

“So she didn’t opt for a black themecolor?” Miko said. “I was working on a math worksheet with Bulkhead.”

The whirrs from a robot neck easily told me that Optimus is facing my direction.

“I didn’t.” I lied. “I was busy training some raccoons how to play basketball.”

“You can’t teach raccoons how to play basketball!” Jack acknowledges, and his voice sounded like he found it hard to believe that I did it.

“It’s possible when you catch them in the act ripping your bed apart.” I continue lying to Jack. “And then cornering them with rotten cheese .  .  .  “

“You are lying.” Raf said. “You’re smiling.”

“I swear, I did teach Racoons how to play basketball!” I claim. “Every night at 6; they are outside my apartment and they miss the hoop each time. Sometimes the pounds sometimes drive me back to sleep like it was raining.”