Elmer Studios presents... ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Guess what! It's the end of Negative Zero: Immigration. Hooray! And, in an astonishing development, there's some action in this chapter. By the way, in the intro songs for Parts 1 and 2, please replace "Cambot" with "Cyberbee". Thankyou. "Negative Zero Immigration" is copyright 1998 by Christopher Jones. Transformers is copyright Hasbro/Kenner/Tankara or something like that. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ In the middle distant future, About 300 years from now. Three Preadacons went for a ride, Into outer space.. But Galvy has a special plan, To trap them up there, man, And now they are stuck up there, With no way down. [Blackarachnia: Get me outta here!] [Galvatron singing now] I'll send them crappy transfics, The worst that I can find, [La La La] I'll force them to watch them all, And they'll go out of their minds! [La la la] [Return to original singers] Keep in mind they can't control, Where the fanfic begins or ends. [La La La] And the only way to keep sanity, Is to riff how bad fanfics can be... PREDACON ROLL CALL Cyberbee (Can't see me!) Blackarachnia (Get me outa here!) Quickstrike (Anything for you, Sugarbot!) IINNFFEERRNNOO (BUUUUUURRRRRRRNNNN!) If you are wondering how they survive, Eat, transform and other stuff. (La La La) Just repeat to yourself "It's Just a MSTing Isn't that good enough?". For Mystery Preadacon Theater 3000 [Guitar Twang] [Scene: The bridge of the Sattelite of Preadacons. The three of them enter, talking] Blackarachnia: Personally, I don't think Galvatron knows what he's doing with this fic. Quickstrike: What do you mean? Blackarachnia: I mean it's just boring us. By the time anything likely to drive us mad happens, we're asleep. Inferno: I agree! I'm just as sane as when the fanfic started! [Laughs manically]. Blackarachnia: Yes well... Sometimes I think his methodology is very flawed. Quickstrike: You seemed to be losing it a bit in that last chapter though, Sugarbot. Blackarachnia: It's just the innacuracies. They get to me at times. Inferno: Don't think about them. Quickstrike: Works for me. Blackarachnia [Looks at them]: Whatever. That reassures me. Really. [The console beeps] Quicstrike: Oh-oh. Looks like it's time for the next part of Negative Zero: Immigration. I'm thrilled. [Blackarachnia walks ovr to it and presses a few buttons. The Preadacon insignia appears on the screen] Blackarachnia: It's a Preadacon signal! That means- Inferno: We're going to be rescued! Quickstrike: Woo-hoo! Blackarachnia: All right! Out of here! [She turns the control wheel eighteen degrees to the left. The insignia fades to a jungle scene. Standing in the middle of the picture is a green, insect- like robot. Waspinator] Waspinator: Hello Preadaconzz on salatite!! Wazzpinator here! Blackarachnia: Er... Hi Waspinator. Waspinator: Wazzpinator receive signal from spider-bot on salatite! Wazzpinator like signal! It good to hear from other Preadacons! Blackarachnia: That's... nice Waspy. Inferno [Pushes her aside]: Where is the royalty?! Waspinator: Wazzpinator not know. All: What?! Waspinator: All Wazzpinator know is that lights go out in ship. Then sounds of shouting and firing and stuff. Then Wazzpinator get hit on head with something heavy. Fortunately, Wazzpinator able to pull himself to CR Chamber. Then Wazzpinator recover and find himself alone in ship. Quickstrike [Nervous]: Alone? Waspinator: That right! No sign of Megatron, spider-bot and crab-bot. So Wazzpinator think to himself. "Whoever did this might come back for Wazzpinator." So Wazzpinator run away and hide to plan new strategy. But Wazzpinator also take stuff with him. Then he receives signal! Blackarachnia: Ah-huh. Wazzpinator: So Wazzpinator now try best to rescue Preadacons from salatite! Blackarachnia [Nervous]: I'm sure you will. Waspinator: Oooh! Signal is fading! [The screen flickers]. Special Agent Wazzpinator signing off! [The screen goes black] Blackarachnia: We're doomed. Quickstrike: We're doomed. Inferno: We're doomed. [Ads: AAA Tournament] [SoP Bridge. The three Preadacons are looking nervous] Quickstrike: Great. I think I preferred it when I knew he wasn't trying to rescue us. Inferno: I'd rather live in hope than know the truth in this case. [The console beeps] Blackarachnia: And to top it all off, the Instruments of Destruction are calling us. [Pushes a button on the console. Galvatron and Megastorm appear on the screen. Galvatron is grinning. Megastorm's helmet is somewhat dented, but he is also grinning.] Galvatron: Hello up there my little drones! Looking forward to today's veiwing? All: No. [Darkside 13] Galvatron: Well tough! As I demonstrated to Megastrom here, I control things around here! I'm the one who says who lives and dies! [Laughs manically] Megastorm: Yup! You sure are the big cheese around these parts. Galvatron: Why thank you. [Punches Megastorm in the face] [Sattelite of Preadacons] Blackarachnia: This guy worries me. [Quickstrike and Inferno nod] [Darkside 13] Galvatron: But enough fun for today. [Megastorm picks himself up] It's time for your regular dosage of hurt! And it's coming to you direct and deadly in the form of another chapter of Negative Zero: Immigration! Let's see you withstand this! [SoP] Inferno: Ha! We survived the last two parts! What makes you think this one will be any worse? [Darkside 13] Megastorm: Well, you see, we think you'll go mad this time 'cos Part 3 is almost twice as big as part 2! [SoP] All: Twice...? [Darkside 13] Galvatron: Yes! Twice! Let's see you cope with this! Push the button, Megastorm! Megastorm: Sure thing, Steve. [Pushes the button] [SoP] Quickstrike: Great! We got Transfic Sign! [They run around panicking] [Door sequence!] [Door 5 - It's a Catflap. You crawl through it] [Door 4 - A garage door. You blip it with the remote, then open it manually when that fails] [Door 3 - An elevator door. You push the button and it opens] [Door 2 - A revolving door. You go round a few times then proceed] [Door 1 - A vault door. It's unlockled] [The three of them walk into the theatre. Quickstrike sits down on the far left. Blackarachnia sits next to him. Inferno sits down in the seat he ripped up in part one] > Negative Zero: Immigration > by Christopher Jones (11) > Part Three Quickstrike: Super Action! > All characters that aren't already copyrighted by Hasbro/Kenner/Takara Inferno: Prety much suck. > belong to Christopher Jones. > March 22, 2013. Blackarachnia: Just after tea-time. > Eleven and Acid Rain rose from their sleep cycles near 4:30 that morning, All: Morning face! Morning face! > and proceeded towards Jackson, MS. They passed > through the city at 7:00, having driven thus far in complete silence, Inferno: Acid Rain? Silent? Ha. > for Acid Rain decided to go back into her sleep cycle. Inferno: Oh. Blackarachnia: Good. Let's hope she stays that way. > They headed to Memphis, TN, towards the signal. Quickstrike: And to see Graceland. > "Oh, no. Acid Rain, wake up." Blackarachnia [Acid Rain]: No. > The former Decepticon Quickstrike: The Decepticon formerlly known as Acid Rain. > slowly revived in Eleven's front seat.. "What is it?" > "Listen to the radio." Blackarachnia: Cue corny Hollywood convenience number 4. The news you want to see or hear is always on at the right time. > "--and no more of the strange code has been deciphered since the > spacecraft's crash yesterday at 10 a.m. It is a small four-robot > trans-stellar cruiser. Quickstrike: With Optional airbags, air-conditioning and stero system at no extra cost! Blackarachnia: It's the aliens trying to return Elvis! > Scientists believe the spacecraft is from > Cybertron, yet it displays neither the Autobot nor Decepticon symbol. Inferno: It does, however, have a "Have A Nice Day" face on its side > Instead, there is a large zero with a minus sign preceding it and a > diagonal slash down the middle. Some scientists think the craft to be > a hoax, since there are only two factions of Transformer. Blackarachnia: Of course! It's the soart of college prank you get all the time! These students... Building a full-sized mock-up of a Transformer ship and then leaving it for the authorities to find. > It crash-landed near Beale Street in Memphis, and the area has been Quickstrike: Flattened? Inferno: Zoned for redevelopment. > quarantined. We're going to go to a break, Quickstrike: That guy is so lucky. Why can't we have a break? > and we'll be right--" > Eleven shut off his radio. "This is terrible," Blackarachnia: No, it's just a regular corny Hollywood convinence. > he said. "What now? The > humans have my ship! Why didn't we think to use the radio before? Inferno: Because you're stupid. > Ah, so illogical of me!" > "Come on, Eleven, when we get there, we can just show them that it's > yours, Quickstrike: What are you gonna do? Flash 'em your driver's licence? > and you can be on your way. I mean, a lot of Transformers lived > here, and I'm sure some have already integrated into society." Blackarachnia: Oh yeah! You see twenty-foot tall robots walking down the streets all the time. > "That will never happen on Earth. Not in our normal forms.." > "Look at Blackjack!" Quickstrike: No thanks. I'd rather not. > "Yeah, he left Earth, didn't he?" Inferno: Ouch. Score one to Eleven. > "We're not getting anywhere. Quickstrike: That's a statement of the obvious. This fic isn't getting anywhere either. > Should we go to Memphis anyway?" Blackarachnia: Aw gee, do we have to? > "I don't want humans getting into my ship. We're going." Blackarachnia [Eleven]: They're such icky creatures! They'll make a mess all over the place. > They were perhaps three hours away from Memphis. Quickstrike: That's enough for me. > Acid Rain said, "That human was talking about some 'code'..." > "The Snakebite has the instructions to enter, leave, and fly the ship, > and they are posted all over the ship, but they are written in Soria, > our language. Inferno: So anyone who can read your language can just get into your ship and fly off with it? That's great security there. Quickstrike: You've got to wonder how much there is left of it after it's been shot up and crashed. > It appears that zero in English and Soria are the same number. Blackarachnia: Cue corny coincidence... Whatever. > Ah! Do you see, Acid Rain?" Blackarachnia: I wish I didn't have to see Acid Rain. > "Huh? See what?" Inferno: The plot! Oh... You missed it. Never mind. > "What the man said. 'There are only two factions of Transformer.' That > would be like saying Earth has only two races of people, which is very > erroneous!" > "But if you think about it, Earth has only seen the Autobots and > Decepticons. You can't blame them. Besides, you want to be a secret group." Quickstrike: And this little pest knew enough about you to spray-paint your team's name on herself before she even met you. Real good work at staying secret there. > "Stupid media-driven...things! How did Prime deal with them?" Blackarachnia: By being nice to them. It sometimes works. > "Don't compare yourself to Prime." Quickstrike: He's got charisma! You don't! > "I can't even lead like Starscream. Blackarachnia: No-one could lead like Starscream. > What hope do I have--" Inferno: Not this again! > "Eleven! Listen! You can't breakdown now. Quickstrike [Acid Rain]: Later, yes. But for now, no. > You need to recover your ship, Inferno: And return all your overdue library books! > and Seven and...I need you to be strong. So does Negative Zero!" She was > right. So painfully right. This was one of those times when he just wanted > to be in stasis, or immobile in the mud. Blackarachnia: That does sound preferable about now. > Or just a security guard for > ancient power-hungry Autobots. Anything besides face these problems. Inferno: And hang around with this runt. > But he was headed towards the dreaded city. Quickstrike: And I thought he'd never even been there. > ------------------------------------------------------------------------ > 9:15 a.m. Quickstrike: And time to cross to Bob in the traffic copter. How's things up there Bob? Inferno: Well, so far, nothing's happening down there. Looks like there's boredom backed up as far as the eye can see. > "Eleven? Come on, don't start brooding," All: [Make hen noises] > Acid Rain said. "Talk about it. Oh, say something!" All [Eleven]: Something! > "Fine. You know what I hate the most about Earth? Blackarachnia: The people? > That I'm here." Blackararachnia: Close enough. > "Eleven..." > "This whole experience is taking its toll on me, Acid Rain." Quickstrike: You're not the only one. > "Okay, then I'll pick a topic to talk about. Tell me about Infinity." Inferno: It's a really big number. > "I thought you didn't like the religious approach." > "I'm becoming interested, and besides, I'm gonna be hangin' with your > team, so I need to know." Quickstrike: Try one of the informative brocures availible at the door. Blackarachnia: Please tell me that these guys don't come round door to door. > "He's the Highest Being, Supreme Over All. Quickstrike: The big cheese. Inferno: The grand poo-bah. Blackarachnia: The toughest stain. > There is not much to tell about. Blackarachnia [Eleven]: He kinda keeps to himself. > The main difference is that we don't believe He had a corporeal body, Inferno [Eleven]: He lost it in the wash. > and that He didn't create us." > "Then who do you believe made us?" Inferno: Kenner! Quickstrike: Hasbro! Blackarachnia: Tankara! > "The Quintessons." Blackarachnia: Oh, please. This is Simon Furman's US Comic continuity we're talking about! Those embarrasing lumps probably don't exist in it! And even if they did like they did in the UK comic, they certainly didn't create the Trnasformers! Aaak! Quickstrike: You OK there, Sugarbot? Blackarachnia: No! This is stupid! This is so stupid that I can't stand it! What planet is this guy living on! Next thing he'll be claiming that Soundwave is a sensitive new age guy! > "Uh-oh..." Inferno: That's right! I think she's about to blow! > "It is written in the Chronicles of Infinity that He gave them and a > few others, like Alpha Trion, Blackarachnia: Alpha Trion! He probably doesn't exist in the comic continuity either! Ooh! Quickstrike: Might be an idea to take cover... > the Ability. The Autobot Matrix is refered > to as uy'vaasoy Inferno [Eleven]: Meaning "That which springs from hitting the keyboard at random" > --the Soul of Infinity." Blackarachnia: PRIMUS! It's the soul of Primus! > "Okay, so tell me this: Primus did fight Unicron; I mean, everybody saw > that. Quickstrike: It was a pretty hard thing to miss. Inferno: Unfortunately, it was shown against the Sein-Off. > How does that fit into the qa'rouum philosophy?" Quickstrike: Ouch. One all. > "It was written that two great warriors would fight for the planet, Quickstrike: And make a huge mess of it. > yet it would become restored, and that the two combatants would die. Inferno: A classic Japanese happy ending. > Primus > is not a god in qa'rouum faith, but just a warrior. So is Unicron." Blackarachnia: Allright! That does it! [She grabs Inferno's flamethrower and jumps up on the back of the seat] This fic dies now! [She torches the screen with the flamethrower] I feel much better. [The smoke clears. The screen is still intact] What?!? [Slumps back down into her seat] Galvatron [VO]: By the way, did I mention that the screen is coverd by a Plot Contrivance field? I figured that sooner or later one of you would try something like that. > "They didn't seem like plain 'warriors' after they messed up Cybertron." Blackarachnia: That's because they're gods! Aaak! > "It makes you wonder how they were created." Inferno: By Simon Furman, of course! Quickstrike: Watch it with the fourth wall there. > "There's no way to know, I guess." > "Those Quintessons were strange things, weren't they?" Inferno: Stupid is more like it. > "I've never liked them." Blackarachnia: I think the vast majority of Transfans would agree. > "You know what else the Chronicles claim? Quickstrike: The moon is made of green cheese, DJ Croft is the second coming, pigs fly, Gonterman is an awesome artist, the Cubs will win and that everything you know is wrong. > That the Quintessons created Inferno [Eleven]: Manos: The Hands Of Fate! > The Enemy." All: Rakshasa? > "Are you serious?" > "Yes. They created the Go-Bots." Inferno & Quickstrike: Go-Bots? Blackarachnia: Another race of transforming robots that competed with the early Transformers for TV ratings and toy sales. However, natural selection favoured the superior race, and the Go-Bots became extinct in the mid 1980s. > "Oh, man! I hate those things!" Blackarachnia: Join the club. > "Understandable. After the Quintessons were chased off Cybertron by the > Decepticons, they tried to create the Transformers yet again, except that > the new robot slaves were even dumber than the first time, so they > wouldn't rebel. Blackarachnia: That and their arms keep coming off. Quickstrike: Unfortunately, they were so dumb they relished in run-on sentences. > They were programmed to do battle against the > Cybertronians in a futile attempt by the Quintessons to reclaim Cybertron. Quickstrike: I think a pack of boy scouts would have done a better job. > They engineered a planet for them: Gobotron." Blackarachnia: So does that mean that Hanna-Barberra's writers were Quints? Inferno: That would explain a lot. > "Copying our planet's name!" > "Yes. Some went to Earth, Quickstrike: Mainly for the cheap shopping. > but most stayed on Gobotron. But the > Cybertronians--the Decepticons, I should say--destroyed nearly all of them > when the Go-Bots came to our planet. Inferno: No-one messes with our bouncers! > Megatron's Decepticons followed them > to Gobotron, where the rest of their breed was eradicated. Quickstrike [British]: And a jolly time was had by all! Blackarachnia: Now there's an idea I could live with. Inferno: I want to be there! > It is rumored > that the Decepticon Soundwave dispatched several hundred himself. Inferno [Soundwave]: I'm Huge! > Megatron is credited for claiming Gobotron and annihilating it." Blackarachnia: Of course, it would have been smarter to just drain it of all its resources and move on, but never mind... > "That is so cool!" Inferno: For once I agree with her! > "That experience with the Go-Bots brought out a lot in Cybertron; Quickstrike: Cheap spare parts for starters... > they > were not only enemies of the Decepticons, but they were enemies of Blackarachnia: TransFans everywhere. > the > Autobots, and any Cybertronian. They copied us, copied what we were, and > tried to use that against us. Blackarachnia: Which is pretty much how the Go-Bots series went. > The Quintessons, however, escaped." Blackarachnia: To go off and sulk at the back of the Transformers Mythos for another decade or so. > "Yeah. I sure hated those... Quickstrike: Fanfic writers? > Go-Bots." > "But you must stop." > "Why?" Quickstrike [Eleven]: Otherwise I'll whine some more. Blackarachnia: Hold on. I sense something bad coming... > "Some of the Go-Bots survived, and one of them created with an Autobot > female, and we have, well, a hybrid. Blackarachnia: Aaaak! Nononono! For the first time of what I will suspect be millions, Transformers do NOT have sex! Aaak! Transfomers reproduce by something akin cell division! And even if you were sad enough to buy that crap, it should be pointed out that Go-Bots were entirley mechanical! So they couldn't do it even if they wanted to! Aaaak! [She leaps up on her seat and sprays the screen with her machineguns.] Quickstrike: You know that won't do anything. Blackarachnia: I know. But it makes me feel better. [She sits down] > Part Go-bot, part Autobot. Inferno: Does that mean that his arms just fall off at the elbows? Quickstrike: Naw. Just one of them. > And he's on my team." Inferno [Eleven]: He's left outfield. Blackarachnia: He should be Left Right Out. > "He's a qa'rouum?" > "No, more like an outsider, like you. Blackarachnia: This is turning into a Star Trek cast. The one who relies entirely on logic and distrusts emotions, the hybrid outcast and the young, inexperienced pain in the ass. If there's a blind guy, I'm outta here. > The qa'rouum on Cybertron do not know of him. Yet." Quickstrike [Eleven]: And Seven's got me under her thumb to keep it that way. > "He's a--a hybrid?!? That's horrible!" Blackarachnia: Our thoughts exactly. > "Have respect! He is hated even more because of his mixed heritage. > He would have been destroyed like you if I hadn't found him, twelve years > ago. But he is not a bad robot. Quickstrike: Just badly made. > He somehow manages to be happy despite > the hatred he constantly faces. Inferno: He's probably on drugs then. Blackarachnia: Naw, it's just his Go-Bot side. He's probably too dumb to figure it out. > Seven and I even had our doubts, but what else could we do? Quickstrike: Leave him? > His name is Firecracker. Hopefully you'll meet him." Inferno: Hopefully we won't. > "Hopefully." > They continued towards Memphis. Inferno: They're going somewhere. The story ain't. > *10:45 a.m. > "Wow! Look at these cars! Quickstrike [Acid Rain]: They're pretty! Can we keep one! > There are so many of them!" Acid Rain said. > "Yes. This is a traffic jam, I believe." Blackarachnia: How could you study American English and not know that? > "How come you didn't make yourself look cool in vehicle mode, Inferno: Because he's a boring twrep. > like those > Autobots that crashed with Prime? I mean, they had porsches and Formula-1 > racers. You? A GMC." > "For one thing, Prime's Autobots had no choice over what they transformed > into, because when they crashed on Earth, Teletran-1 just picked them > randomly and did not know that cars were just vehicles, much less the > difference between a race car and an old black Ford Bronco. Quickstrike: At least it wasn't a Slow White Bronco. > It would be > a coincidence (except that I don't believe in coincidences) Inferno: Naturally. He's allways right. > that our robotic form is roughly the size of Terran vehicles. > "Plus, the whole point of transforming is to disguise ourselves. Blackarachnia: Actually, its for transportation, combat or other functions, but never mind. Disguise only came about on Earth. > A > Formula-1 racer would be more apt to being stolen and attracting > unnecessary attention than a GMC. Quickstrike: But would still be way cooler. > After Prime came, the Transformers that > followed were able to choose their Terran conversions, like you and me. Inferno: And she chose a skateboard? A car would have been much more useful. > Unfortunately, I fear that some of my team's choices were not the most > conservative. Inferno [Eleven]: The hot pink battle tank was a dead giveaway. > I have seen those who transform into vaccum cleaners, > television sets, and even lawn mowers." > "That's dumb!" Blackarachnia: Tell me about it. > "It's disguise. What do you think Nintendo is?" > "A Transformer? No way!" Blackarachnia: Actually she's right. Nintendo predates 1984 when the first transformers awakened on Earth. > "Just think about it for a while. Quickstrike: There's that burning rubber smell... > Speaking of transforming, rumor has > it that on Cybertron, scientists are attempting to create synthetic > shells that can withstand the radioactivity of pure energon. They are > bonding Pretender shells to the Transformer itself, so that a robot > can transform into the beast." Inferno: This sounds familliar... > "Beast?" > "Yes. The synthetic shell doesn't really allow for Terran vehicles, Quickstrike: Or any other sort of vehichle for that matter. > so instead they have chosen animal-like transformations. Blackarachnia: I suppose it's time to point out that us Preadacons and Maximals were normal, vehichle-mode Transformers before we took on beast forms for survival? > They will be > used in the near future, anticipating Cybertron's depleting energy > levels. It appears that both Autobots and Decepticons are harvesting > this technology that started with the Pretenders." > "Great. So now there'll be beast wars across the galaxy. All: Bdoom-tish. > It'll never work." Blackarachnia: I think HasKen and Mainframe Entertainment have proved otherwise. Inferno: Watch it with the fourth wall there. > "I happen to like the idea. Otherwise we'll starve to death. They'll > still be robots disguising themselves." All [Singing]: Robots in disguise! > "I still don't like it." Quickstrike: Accept it. > "Some were opposed to Micromaster engineering, too, you know." Inferno: Two-one, Eleven's favour. > "Yeah, well..." > At 10:56, they passed the Memphis city limit. Blackarachnia: Do you reckon that now that they've reached Memphis the plot will get moving? Inferno & Quickstrike: Naah. > ------------------------------------------------------------------------ > Eleven's low, bassy voice cut through the silence. "I knew there'd be > some security measures, but this...this I did not hope for." Inferno: Nothing? > The GMC Sierra parked about a block from Beale Street. Quickstrike: One problem with being a vehicle mode Transfomer. Finding a place to park. > Instead of the > tourist attraction, it seemed to be some sort of army base, surrounded > by many large threatening tanks, with anti-aircraft turrets scattered > throughout the area. Blackarachnia: These tourist attractions have way too much security nowardays. > "All this for my ship?" Eleven wondered. Quickstrike: You should feel honoured. > "No! Look!" All the tanks encircled Eleven's totalled spacecraft, the > Snakebite, but just beyond it were the fragments of another spacecraft, > which must have been-- Inferno: The UFO from Roswell! > "The Ark?!?" Quickstrike: With Harrison Ford fighting the Nazis for it, right? > "Those look like parts of it!" > "But I thought Fortress Maximus--he died destroying the Ark so that the > technology could not be harvested by the humans and to stop Megatron... Blackarachnia: Not to rain on your parade some more, but there was a Matter -Antimatter explosion. That doesn't leave large chunks of debris. > his death was in vain..." Inferno: If this fic happened? Certainly. > "Lev, come on, how are we going to get in there?" Quickstrike: Flash 'em your library cards and claim that they're visitors passes. That allways works for me. > "On those tanks, the letters 'G.I. Joe' Inferno: TM. Blackarachnia: Oh no. Not another crappy G.I. Joe/TFs crossover. > are printed. I recognize those! Quickstrike: Eleven here's an action figure collector. > That organization is America's elite defense team. They've dealt with > us before! Blackarachnia: In the all-American "Shoot First, Ask Questions Later" way. > Maybe they can help us now." > "I don't know, Lev. Those humans...when you give'em tanks and missiles, > they become kinda crazy." Inferno: She's got a point there. Much as I hate to agree with her. > "Then we have to find Dr. Biggles-Jones." > "Who?" Blackarachnia: Dr Ritsuko Akagi's alter-ego. > "She is somehow connected with the G.I. Joe program, and the Joes > rescued her from Megatron a good while back. She can get us clearance > to my ship. Inferno: Unless, of course, she's quit or something like that. > And having a human, especially a qualified human, with us > can help us even more than just having two alien robots." Quickstrike: She could do all those little things like cleam up the tables, wash the dishes, walk the dog... Inferno: And go to gas stations. > "We have to find a human? One human in a world of five billion of > them?" > "Don't worry. Maybe she is in this city." Blackarachnia: Although it would be a coincidence too corny to belive. > Eleven circled the block and several surrounding ones until they found > a phone book at a booth. Inferno: Finding a current, whole one is another matter. > Acid Rain got out in her "new" clothes, and > pulled the phone book off the booth." > Eleven said, "I don't think you're supposed to take it." > "We're a special case." Acid Rain searched for Biggles-Jones's name, > and found it. Blackarachnia: That's not too hard. How many people in the world would have a surname like that? Quickstrike [Flipping through phone book]: One.. two... three... > She had moved to Memphis Blackarachnia: Then again, nothing is too corny for this fic. > after the traumatizing incident with Megatron > in the Ark, trying to get away from the robots forever. Little did > she know... Inferno: The cruel trick fate had in store for her! [Laughs maniacally] > ------------------------------------------------------------------------ > 11:35 a.m. 8888 Tammy Lane, Memphis, TN. Quickstrike: Third on the left past the lights. Can't miss it. There's a huge Plot Contrivance out the front. > It had been almost five years. Blackarachnia: Woah! Am I to assume that means that the fic is set five years after the "Transfromers Generation 2" comic? Quickstrike: Looks that way. Blackarachnia: But this is set in 2013. That puts TFG2 in 2008, right? Inferno: Er... yeah. Blackarachnia: However, in TFG2, it had clearly been only a couple of years since the end of the first comic in 1991. You can tell because Spike and the Joes are no older. So, where does he get the idea that it was set in 2008? Quickstrike: It's a fanfic. It don't have to make sense. Blackarachnia: True. > The robots were gone from her life. Inferno: At least, that's what the voices in her head told her. And Mr Thunderwing, her magical invisible sock puppet. > Forever. Never again will they come and kidnap her. Inferno: They still toilet papered her lawn from time to time, though. > She never thought > that these robots would cause her to go insane. Blackarachnia: Very few NERV employees ever do... > Dr. Linda Biggles-Jones, > upon moving, never used the electricity in her home, never watched her > TV, and barely used the radio. Quickstrike: Obviously she uses a battery-powered radio. > She became an emotional recluse; her > emotions began to have the characteristics of a machine. She wouldn't > even drive the brown Mercury unless she absolutely had to. Blackarachnia: Is it just me or does this sound very unlikely for a scientist? Especially one who was apparently fine after her ordeal? > But today, she felt more paranoid than usual, because she had read about > the alien ship crash-landing yesterday, and it was most likely > Cybertronian. Inferno: Could be the Visitors. Quickstrike: Or the the blue men from Venus. Blackarachnia: Or the Inspections Army. > Insanity and paranoia told her that she was not safe; she > no longer even felt safe in her own house. She had to leave. Blackarachnia: So she's going to leave the safety of her own house, beliveing firmly that the evil robots could be lurking anywhere? Inferno: Makes sense to me. > Thank goodness her two children were in school. Inferno: Poor deluded Biggles-Jones. She doesn't even have any children. Blackarachnia: Never mind that neither of them would be of school age... > She didn't want them to see > her in such a dishelved state. And Frank, her husband, would not be at > home until late that evening. Quickstrike: He had to stay back to do some extra work with his secutary. > Biggles-Jones then decided to go somewhere. Anywhere. Inferno: How about Hawaii? I hear that it's nice this time of year. > "Aunt Linda?" > "Yes, Marty?" Blackarachnia [Marty]: Why are you such a weirdo? > "What's for lunch?" Quickstrike: My fist if you don't shut up, kid. > "How about we go out for lunch today?" Blackarachnia: So we're now going out to the big, bad outside world which could be full of scarey robots. Great. > Marty, her sister’s youngest son, a five-year old, smiled and agreed. > "Go put your shoes on and let’s go," the doctor said, and they left. > 11:47 a.m. 8888 Tammy Lane. > A white pickup truck pulled into the driveway. Someone or something > dressed country-style Inferno: Country Roadkill style is more like it. > got out and went to the wooden door. She rang > the doorbell once, then saw the note. She plucked the Post-It from the > door and returned to the truck. > "Well?" the truck asked. > "No one’s home," Quickstrike [Acid Rain]: They told me through the door themselves. > the country-clad female replied. "But there was a note. It says, Blackarachnia [Acid Rain]: Gone to have a fight with my agent. Hopefully will not be back. > ‘Gone to Wolfchase Galleria for lunch with Marty, Frank. Will > be back in a few hours. -Linda." Quickstrike: I thought that Frank wouldn't be home till late that evening. So why is she leaving him a note if she's going to lunch? Inferno: Maybe she's a big eater. > "Then we must go to this wolf-chased gallery," the truck decided. > "Find the directions in the phone book." > "It’s somewhere in Germantown." Inferno: Just follow the yellow brick road. > "We’ll find it," the truck said. "And it looks like you’ll be the one > convincing Biggles-Jones to help us." Quickstrike: That really ought to work, given how well she did on the gas station attendant. Blackarachnia: If she tries the "costume party" one again, I'm leaving. > "Oh, not again!" They left the house in search of the woman. > 12:30 p.m. The Wolfchase Galleria. > Linda and Marty sat at a table, eating Wendy’s burgers and fries. Quickstrike: I hope Wendy don't mind. > Oh, how good Linda felt! Just being surrounded by her fellow gave > her comfort. Inferno: Fellow... fellow... Fellow what? > Maybe instead of being locked up in her house, she should > get out more. The robots would not bother her. Blackarachnia: Just so long as she pretends they don't exist. > They all left after > they destroyed San Francisco. But what about the funny four-robot > cruiser that crashed yesterday? Inferno: It's just a hoax. Didn't you hear it on the radio? > And the huge, black Decepticon base that they found deep in the ocean Quickstrike: My guess is that this is Trypticon, right? Blackarachnia: Looks like it. Quickstrike: So... that means that the Joes will have moved him to say... Memphis, Tenn where he can be used as a vital plot element. Blackarachnia: Most likely. > (she had just heard of this on the > radio)? Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t, Linda... All: Calm blue ocean. Calm blue ocean. > "Are you okay, Aunt Linda?" > "I’m...I’m sort of sleepy, Marty. Let’s finish and go shopping in > the mall." Blackarachnia: Great. Talk about cliched female behaviour... > "Aw, I don’t wanna!" > "Just for a little while." In five minutes, they finished and left > the food court. Inferno: I suppose that we'll get lenghty and dull dialouge all about that too. > It had been months since Linda went shopping! Quickstrike: Fortunatly, that canned food can really last. > She spent the last > few months writing a book about her experience in the Ark, captured! Blackarachnia: She could do the talk show circut with that one. > Yes, some Autobots named Skydive and Fortress Maximus saved her, but > they were so...dangerous! Quickstrike [Whiny]: You're so mean! > She missed the malls and shops and > socializing with friends...she missed her life. The life that the > robots stole away! Inferno: More like the one that the authour had stolen away. > "Aunt Linda, you’re hurting my hand." All: Good! > "Oh, I’m sorry, honey." Forget those accursed machines. Those souless > things... Blackarachnia: Those naughty, nasty robots. > They walked into an Unlimited clothing store, Inferno: Put product placement here. Quickstrike: Do you reckon that GMC paid the authour to have Eleven as one of their trucks? Blackarachnia: No, but they should sue. > and Linda told Marty to > sit on a bench near the entrance. Linda could spend hours here! To the > left, clothes! To the right— Blackarachnia: There he goes with the stereotyped behaviour. You wouldn't see me spending hours shopping for clothes. Quickstrike: But you don't wear clothes, sugarbot. Blackarachnia: Well... yes. But my point remains. > To her right was a very tall woman with very dark skin and red shoes. Inferno: I'm not a robot! > She was crouched and appeared to be talking to herself and searching > for something at the same time. Blackarachnia [Acid Rain]: Damned contacts. > Her back was to Linda. She wore country > -style clothes that were far too tight, and she wore a black cowboy hat > over...copper-colored hair? Inferno: I'm still not a robot. > Oh, well, it was 2013... There was also > an embarrassingly large rip in her rear. Quickstrike: I see London! I see France! I see Acid Rain's- Blackarachnia [Hits him]: That's enough from you. > She decided to approach the tall woman. > "Excuse me, miss?" > The woman stopped talking to herself and turned to face her, standing > up. She was very tall, almost eight feet. Quickstrike: I have metal skin and turn into a skateboard. But I'm still not a robot! Blackarachnia: Up to eight feet tall! You are doing well, Acid. > The cowboy hat was pulled down > over her face, but she had almost albino skin on her face. Blackarachnia: And metalic plates, but never mind. > She had enormous blue pupils. Inferno: So she's an animie babe then. > She said, "Yes?" > "Your jeans...are ripped in the back." Linda smiled a little. Quickstrike: Wooah there lady! It's not the sorta thing to smile about, unless... Blackarachnia: Do not go there, two-heads. Quickstrike: Heh. Sure thing, Sugarbot. > The tall woman seemed surprised. The buttons on her flannel shirt > seemed ready to burst open. Inferno: Quite possible on an Animie babe... Blackarachnia: You too, ant-boy! > "Oh, my dear Pr—God! Inferno: Give it up, Acid. You're not fooling anyone. > Thank you so much! Oh, it seems that there are no clothes in my size..." Quickstrike: Very few stores carry "Humungous" > "What’s your size?" > "...48." > "I’m sure there are some here. Blackarachnia: I'm sure every store carries stuff for seven-foot tall women who are built like concrete blocks. > The clerks can probably order you some." > The tall woman put a soft hand on her shoulder (was she wearing red > gloves?), Inferno: I take it back. Quickstrike: I thought she was a brilliant scientist. Blackarachnia: Fanfic. Quickstrike: Figures. > and said, "Thank you so much, Miss..." > "Linda Biggles-Jones." > The woman seemed surprised for almost a split-second, then smiled and > replied, Blackarachnia [Acid Rain]: That's one hell of a weird name you got there, lady. > "My name’s April Rogers. I need to go call my boyfriend; he’ll give > me a ride." Blackarachnia: Is Dr BJ at all worried by the way she's talking? I would be if I was in constnt paranoid fear of the Giant Robots From Outer Space. > "I can give you a ride. It’s just my nephew and I." > "Nephew?" > "Yes, that boy over there." Quickstrike [Biggles-Jones]: The ultra-whinny one. > "Thanks, but I have to attend a costume party, Quickstrike: That again? Give it up. Only a total moron would buy that. > so I’d better go... thanks again!" > As April Rogers left, Linda swore she could hear a button pop off her > shirt. Quickstrike: I give up. Blackarachnia: Fanfic effect. > Acid Rain ran to the nearest phone, Inferno: Only to find it vandalised allmost beyond recognition. > pretending to call someone, but actually using her internal radio. Blackarachnia [Acid Rain]: Acid to Enterprize. One to beam up. > She was in the mall, three stores to the right of the Unlimited. Inferno: Three doors to the left. Blackarachnia: Down the hall and out the door. Quickstrike: Over the hill and round the bend. > She relaxed her eyes, which she had > disguised to look like human blue eyes. She activated her internal radio. > "Eleven! It’s me, AC!" > "’AC’?" Quickstrike [Acid Rain]: Yeah. The name you told me not to call me. > "Whatever! Listen, I didn’t find Biggles-Jones, Inferno: Her action figure is so rare. > but she found me!" Blackarachnia: In another direly overused Hollywood corny coincidence. > "And?" Quickstrike: Well, she is the person you were after... > "And she’s right here in the mall—hold on a second." Blackarachnia [Acid Rain]: I need to insert another coin. > Acid Rain turned > around to see two male humans looking at her strangely, smiling at her. Inferno: Those are two weird guys. > "Buzz off, punks!" she said, and they walked off, looking at her all > the same. "I need a change of clothes," she told Eleven. Inferno: That's easy. Just raid King Kong Bundy's locker. > "So where is she now?" Quickstrike: Hopefully, away from the fic. > "In some clothing store." > "Well, you’ve got to stay with her!" > "But how?" Blackarachnia: Try... following her maybe? > "Use your imagination! I can’t just walk in there, you know! I can meet > you at her house." Inferno [Eleven]: And hurry up! Before the plot congeals some more! > "But Lev—" He had disconnected the radio. Just great! Maybe she could > ask Biggles-Jones to let her come visit, yeah, that seemed to be the > only option. Quickstrike: That's really going to work. Ask a reclusive looney if you could drop by. > But then, her jeans ripped completely up the middle, and were falling down. Blackarachnia: So's the plot, but never mind. Quickstrike [Acid Rain]: Damn cheap Chinese knock-offs. > "Ah!" she exclaimed. Acid Rain ran back to the Limited, holding up the > useless clothes that hid nothing. Inferno: You want to make a bigger spectacle of yourself? > Marty sat on the bench. It had been forever since Aunt Linda started > shopping in the stupid clothing store. Then she talked to some stupid > lady who dressed really badly. Blackarachnia: I love how observant kids can be. > He wanted to go home and play his Nintendo, Quickstrike: Cue product placement three million and six. Blackarachnia: Playstation's better. Quickstrike: But our game was crap. Only Blender Butt here was in it. Inferno: You want to hit that fourth wall any harder? > but it seemed that it would take forever for her to shop. Blackarachnia: She's acting like a woosy female stereotype. Of course it will. Quickstrike: Bitter? Blackarachnia: A bit. > It had been a > long time since Aunt Linda went out. His mother said the Aunt Linda was > ‘a little crazy’ sometimes. Inferno: No, Aunt Linda is a lot crazy all the time. Blackarachnia [Muttered]: Like you can talk. Inferno: WHAT?! Blackarachnia: Er... nothing, Inferno. Really. > He sat on a bench right in front of a display case, full of mannequins. Quicktrike: This fic's nearly that exciting. > He heard a ripping sound behind him. It alarmed him, and he turned to see > a bunch of ripped clothes right outside the store, and under them was a > black skateboard with silver wheels, with the letters "NZ" spray-painted > on top. Blackarachnia: Obviously those ripped clothes don't cover much of it. > Wow! he thought. Inferno: Kids. Gotta hate them. > He got up and walked outside to get a better look. > Then the skateboard talked. > "Hey kid, you want to buy a talking skateboard?" The skateboard > was a girl! Yuch! Quickstrike [Marty]: Girl germs! > But... > "Yeah!" > "Well, tell your aunt to let you go to Toys ‘R Us, Quickstrike: Maybe Tim McLees will be in there. Inferno: Watch it with that fourth wall! > and buy me!" (How did the toy know it was his aunt?) Blackarachnia [Acid Rain]: 'Cause I'm a smart skateboard! > "How much do you cost?" > "...$7.87. Quickstrike: Plus GST. > But listen! Don’t tell your aunt...that I can talk!" > "But why not?" Inferno: Because she'll think that you're as nuts as she is. > "You wanna cool board or not?" Blackarachnia: That's right. Appeal to the kid's sense of selfishness. > "Okay. Come on!" the kid said. "Aunt Linda, I’m going to the toy store > to buy something!" Quickstrike [Marty]: Can I have your credit card? > Linda looked over her shoulder and said, Blackarachnia [Biggles-Jones]: Get me out of this crappy fanfic! > "All right. I’ll be there in five minutes and then we’re going home." Inferno: Now, while he's in the store, leave without him. You know you want to. > The skateboard began to roll itself (how? he wondered) Quickstrike: Small motors in the wheels? Inferno: Mice? Blackarachnia: The miracles of plot contivances? > to the Toys ‘R Us Quickstrike: Product placemnt number Seven billion, two hundred and fifty- three thousand, one hundred and eight. > on the other side of the row of stores. The board rolled itself > into the store, then said, "Okay, buy me!" Blackarachnia [Acid Rain]: Take me home! Love me! > The boy swore that he had > seen a movie with a talking skateboard somewhere. Marty then picked > up the board and waited in the line for a minute or two. Inferno: Obviously not the express lane then. > When his turn came up, he put it on the checkout counter. Blackarachnia [Bored]: This is fascinating stuff. > The cashier, a young Black woman, said, "I don’t ever remember seeing > this. Quickstrike: Hell, she probably can't even remember her own feet. > Johnny, come look at this." A taller White man came over to her > and said, Inferno [Jonny]: It's a skatebord, you moron. > "I haven’t either." Johnny took the board and flipped it to > its underside. Besides the four silver wheels, there was an awful lot > of machinery there. Quickstrike: Brilliant disguise there. > There was a piece of red and white flannel stuck > between two of the wheels. Inferno: Probably left over from the last granny the previous owner ran over. > Perhaps it was some new brand. At the front > of the underside, however, were the words: ‘Run Scanner Here.", burned > into the skateboard. There was no bar code, Blackarachnia: And... everyone's OK with this? > but Johnny scanned it anyway, and the register read, ‘$7.87.’ Blackarachnia: No, it should have said "Unknown item" or something to that effect. > "That’ll be $7.87," the man said. Marty gave him a ten-dollar bill. > "Your change is $2.13. All: INTENSE SKATEBOARD BUYING ACTION! > Have a nice day." Inferno: Burning in hell, that is! MWAHAHAHAHAHA! Blackarachnia: You OK there? Inferno: Sorry. I hate people who say that. > Johnny put the skateboard into > a white plastic bag and gave Marty his change. Aunt Linda returned, and > they headed to their car. But the skateboard said nothing more. Quickstrike: Reall talkative there. > They returned home at 1:35 p.m. Inferno: Are these constand updates on the time really neccacary? > As soon as he got out of the car, he > dropped the skateboard to the ground and started scooting on it with > one foot. He slipped, sending the skateboard flying forward into a brick > wall, at the front of the house. Blackarachnia: That's right. Just break it on your first try, why don't you? > No sounds came from the toy. Inferno: Amazing! I thought she'd be back to whining as usual. > "Marty, be careful," Biggles-Jones said as she walked to her house. Quickstrike [Biggles-Jones]: Don't go near the minefield. Whoops. Too late. > "Can I try it on the hill in the backyard?" Blackarachnia: Is that the really steep on with the phirana pit at the base? Quickstrike: That's some back yard ya got there. > "Give me a minute. I need to watch you do it." Inferno: In her spare time she is an Olympics judge. > Marty picked up his > board and went to the backyard. Biggles-Jones noticed that Frank had > taken the note, and walked inside. Quickstrike: Shouldn't she get worried that there's no sign of Frank? > A white pickup drove past her house. Blackarachnia: Cigarette-smoking man behind the wheel. > Biggles-Jones walked out her back door to find Marty standing on > the board, posing as if were surfing. Inferno: Skate Nazis Must Die. Coming soon to a fanfic near you. > "Can I go now?" Quickstrike [Marty]: I relly, really need to go! Blackarachnia: Hopeless. > "Marty, that hill is way too steep, Quickstrike [Biggles-Jones]: And I haven't laid out the bear traps yet. > and you don’t even know—" But the skateboard started rolling anyway. > "Marty, oh Marty—" > "Aunt Linda--!" Marty was accelerating. Straight towards a tree. Inferno: Cool! > "Marty!" But, a few feet in front of the tree, Quickstrike: Is my ball. Damn. Have to take a shot from the rough. > the skateboard suddenly shot up from Marty’s feet Blackarachnia [Marty]: I can flyyyyyyyyyyy... > and transformed into a robot, > unfolding and extending, growing a little until it was a seven-foot > tall black and red robot. Blackarachnia: And back to seven feet. Me thinks her subspace mass storage is playing up. > The robot turned in mid-air and caught Marty, Inferno [Announcer]: Beautiful save there by Acid Rain! And now she's taking the kick... > and its metallic back crashed through the tree. All: TOGG! Blackarachnia: Where'd that come from? > It landed flat on its back, and Marty was safe. And speechless. Quickstrike: His shorts, on the other hand... Blackarachnia: Cut that out! > Not again. Not the robots! Quickstrike: Aaaagh! Real Robots! Blakcararachnia: Coming soon from Nikelodeon. > This one had a Decepticon symbol on its chest, Inferno: Right next to the "have a nice day" smiley. > just like the walking railgun, Megatron. Blackarachnia: Do we want to mention who built that railgun for him? > It got up and said, "Dr. Biggles-Jones." Blackarachnia [Biggles-Jones]: Er... No! That ought to fool her. > Biggles-Jones replied, "April, is that—" No. She was a robot. Inferno: Like you couldn't have guessed before! > The Decepticon began to walk towards her, saying, Quickstrike [Acid Rain]: We come in peace, shoot to kill. > "Wait! Please!" > The doctor ran inside to get her gun. Blackarachnia: Another responsible American Gun Owner, I see... > 1:41 p.m. The truck had passed by Biggles-Jones’s house three times. Inferno: Just like the fic. > "Dr. Biggles-Jones! Please! It’s not what you think!" Blackarachnia: Wow. I don't know about you, but I'm convinced. > But the lady didn’t hear the robot. She ran to her bedroom. Quickstrike: Hide in the closet! She'll never think to look there! > Reaching inside her nightstand, she pulled out a Walther P-38 Blackarachnia: Cue corny coincidence number... oh I give up. > and waited for her enemy. > She was so naive to not have noticed the Transformer in the store! > Oh, why? Inferno: Because of the crappy writing in the fic! > The black and red robot reached Biggles-Jones’s room, Quickstrike: After going through the rest of the house. When you want something, it's allways in the last place you look. > holding Marty > in her arms. Her hair was just several strands of copper wire. Quickstrike: Several? I thought it was thousands. Inferno: Maybe she's balding. > The crazed doctor almost squeezed off a shot, Blackarachnia: It *is* Dr. Akagi! > but she saw her nephew. > The robot then dropped Marty and reached for the gun, Quickstrike: Go fo yer gun, you scum-sucking mollusc! > but when she got > a good look at the gun, she trembled back, and began fearfully > whispering, "M-Megatron?!?" Inferno: Roylaty? Blackarachnia: Wrong one! Do I have to keep reminding you? Inferno: Sorry. These re-used names get me. > But Megatron was a tank, not a gun, right? Blackarachnia: Right. I don't see any reason why he should have changed back... Apart from warped fanfic logic, that is. > The Decepticon should know that! > "I cannot...Eleven, help..." Blackarachnia: That's right. Just whine like a helpless little female... [Fumes] > Outside the bedroom window, Inferno: As seen from the book depository. Quickstrike: Or the neighbour's telescope. > a white truck suddenly stopped, and turned left into her lawn, Quickstrike: The gardner's gonna go spare over that one. > coming very close to her window. Then it, too, > transformed. She could only see its legs. > "Oh, God..." > The ceiling above her began to creak and moan, Blackarachnia: Those mice... you should do something about them. > and then an enormous whitish-gray hand burst through, Quickstrike: Those salesmen can be real persistant. > grabbing for the doctor. Biggles-Jones > then ran to "April Rogers" and held her by her copper hair, Inferno: I seem to recall saying something about that "Hair" being a potential plot device... > and pressed > the Walther to her head. "Don’t touch me, or I’ll shoot!" All: Do it! Do it! Do it! > The hand stopped in its pursuit, and a voice from outside said, Inferno: Avon lady! > "Dr. Biggles-Jones, please, we need your help!" Blackarachnia: Help me Dr Biggles-Jones! You're my only hope! > "No! Leave me alone!" She shot the hand, leaving a small hole in the upper > palm. She started pulling the copper hair out of the small robot’s head. Blackarachnia: Well called on that hair, Inferno. > "April" screamed and reflexively hit the doctor in her head. All: WA-TAK! Quickstrike: Now where'd that come from? > If she had > let her hands become hard, like all Transformers do in battle, then the > doctor would have lost her head, literally. But she had let the density > remain soft, and she was unconscious. Blackarachnia: That's a not too bad explanation of one of Budansky's worst flubs. > "Acid Rain?" Eleven asked. > "She’s KO’d." Acid Rain picked her up Quickstrike: And there's Acid Rain with a full suplex! It could be over for Biggles-Jones! > and headed to the front door. > "But what about the boy?" > "Look, Lev, this human is nasty. Quickstrike: Who? Biggles-Jones or Marty. Inferno: Both. > We don’t have time!" Blakcarachnia: Why not? You've wasted so much of it allready. > "Bring him too." > "Eleven!" > "That’s an order, AC." Quickstrike [Acid Rain]: Yes, mum. > "(mumble...mumble...)" She told the boy, "Come on, Marty. Blakcarachnia [Acid Rain]: Closer to the kill zone. > We’ll bring you and your aunt back home later. Inferno: After the Anal probes. Blackarachnia: You watch it too. > I promise. Come here, please? Blackarachnia: Pretty please with sugar on top? Quickstrike: I love it when you talk like that, Sugarbot. > We’re trying to leave your planet! Don’t you want us to leave?" All: Yes! > The little > boy climbed into Acid Rain’s arms. Eleven transformed into pickup mode, > Acid Rain and the two new passengers boarded, Inferno: Mighty cramped in here. > and they returned to Beale Street. > 2:09 p.m. Quickstrike: It's 2:09 p.m. Do you know where your Transformers are? > "Dr. Biggles-Jones?" Blackarachnia: You'd feel mighty stupid around now if you'd grapped the wrong person. > The doctor slowly came to. She had been kidnapped again. Inferno [Biggles-Jones]: This sort of thing happens to me all the time. > "Where...am I?" Quickstrike: Hell. > "You’re riding inside Eleven. Blackarachnia [Acid Rain]: You're being abducted by the Easy Listening station. > We’re going to Beale Street to the crashed spaceship." Quickstrike: Via the mall. > Marty was eerily quiet to her left, and to her right was the robot. > "Who are you?" the doctor asked. Inferno: Batman! Quickstrike: Superman! Blackarachnia: The Tick. > "My name is Acid Rain." Inferno: Agent IQ7. Licenced to annoy. > Her eyes were fully green, and the triangle upon > her forehead was as well. But she attempted to smile. Blackarachnia: That ought to invoke a feeling of trust... > "What do you want with me?" Quickstrike [Eleven]: We're looking for a plot. You got one? > The truck, or Eleven, now spoke to her. "We need you to give us > clearance into the G.I. Joe camp." Inferno [Eleven]: We also want your wallet and your shoes. > "How do you know that I can do this?" Quickstrike: He's the Avatar! He knows everything! > "I read Skydive’s report about the Ark’s destruction. Inferno [Eleven]: I gave it an A+. > You were in it. The humans will listen to you. Blackarachnia: Especially if you whine like Acid. > Ma’am, I realize this is not very pleasant for you, Quickstrike: It's not very pleasant for us either. > but we need you. That spacecraft can mean the > difference between life and death for my people on Cybertron." Inferno: Choose very carefully, lady... > "Why me? Why, oh why?" She began to cry. Blackarachnia: Oh yeah. She's a really strong-minded woman. > Marty looked at her solemnly. Inferno: Aak! Big puppydog eyes! > "Please, ma’am? You’re our only hope. We’ll never bother you again," Quickstrike [Acid Rain]: Really! > Eleven promised. > "All right." Blackarachnia: And you belive that? I'm beginning to think that Megatron did get away with her brain. > "Thank you, Doc," Acid Rain said. She then reached under Eleven’s front > seat and picked up her Quickstrike: Tourist roadmap, pointing out Graceland, all the best malls and the alien ships. > silver helmet. "I’ve gotta reinstall some of my > neurotransmitters. She ripped some out." Inferno: You watch. I bet that she'll connect to Trypticon, and be unable to control him properly. Quickstrike: We can't bet if we all agree. > "Well, you’d better hurry. We’re almost there." Quickstrtike: You mean that- Inferno: Is it possible that- Blackarachnia: Something might happen? > Eleven said. > Biggles-Jones stopped crying. > Beale Street was still surrounded by Blackarachnia: Low-rent housing. > G.I. Joe tanks Quickstrike: Those things are so hard to park in the city. > when the four beings Inferno: Obviously, he wants to be as politically correct as possible. > arrived at 2:45. They decided to drive right up to the Snakebite > itself. As soon as they crossed the police line, policemen Quickstrike: And the media. > came to them > like magnets and some of the tanks pointed their barrels at Eleven. Blackarachnia [Eleven]: Sorry! Wrong address! Sorry for wasting your time. > Snipers aimed and cocked their guns. Quickstrike: Obviously, these cops were hired from the LAPD. > A tall Hispanic guy Inferno: I love the character descriptions in this fic. > called from a megaphone, "State the reason for your presence!" Inferno [Eleven]: Pizza delivery! Quickstrike: That ought to fool 'em. > Eleven came to a full halt, merely ten feet away from his spacecraft, > and Biggles-Jones got out. > "My name is Linda Biggles-Jones." > The Hispanic man looked at some of his subordinates. They all began > mumbling to each other: "Hey, I heard about her...she’s the crazy > dame... Blackarachnia: A great thing to say to her face. > didn’t she get abducted by those robots..." Quickstrike [Chef]: Did they give you anal probe? Blackarachnia: Which one of your two mouths do you want me to clamp shut? Quickstrike: Er... sorry sugarbot. > The Hispanic man said, "Why are you here?" Inferno: To serve the royalty! > She replied, "I know whose ship this is." Quickstrike [Biggles-Jones]: The Blue Men from Venus! > The scientists in front of the ship stopped their work and looked at > the doctor. Blackarachnia [Scientist]: Don't mind her. She's a nutter. > "It’s his." She pointed to Eleven. Some of the scientists began to > chuckle. Quickstrike [Scientist]: Oh yeah. She's gone. > "A truck?" they said. Blackarachnia: Of course, it's a Cybertronian ship, so there's no chance that the truck there is a Transformer who owns it. And you people call yourselves scientists. > "Marty, Acid Rain, come out," Biggles-Jones said. After they did, > Eleven transformed into his natural form. Inferno: Those scientists must feel pretty stupid about now. > The tanks aimed at him, as > did the snipers, and the scientists stopped laughing. Quickstrike [Scientist]: We're sorry. Our bad. > Eleven stood in front of his ship. > "Don’t try anything stupid," the Hispanic man said. Inferno: He should have thought about that two chapters ago. > Eleven mentally activated the ship key. His chest/hood opened in two > parts, sliding apart, revealing a yellow box. Blackarachnia: Let's see him loose that behind the couch. > Eleven took the box and held it to towards the ship. Quickstrike: So he controls it with a Rubik's cube? > The massive craft reactivated, All: [Make Win95 startup noise] > and at the front of it, a hatch opened. All: [Hum Close Encounters theme] > "That’s him, men! Attack!" All: Uh? Inferno: Who just said that? Quickstrike: Who cares? They just ordered an attack! We're gettin' some action! > "What?" Eleven said. The tanks opened fire on him. Quickstrike: Hooray! Some action at last! Blackarachnia: Although with our luck it'll probably be either very badly written, or over in a Koopa-like flash. > Acid Rain told Biggles -Jones to run and hide. Inferno: Duck and cover. Blackarachnia: Run away! Run away! > Eleven dodged two tank shells, but one hit him > high in the back, shattering the driver’s side of the truck cab. Inferno: That's gonna leave a mark! > He winced > in pain and fell face down, ruining the pavement. Quickstrike [Singing]: Eleven hit the sidewalk again! > What was going on? Inferno: An action sequence. Blackarachnia: No wonder he's confused. > Acid Rain ran towards the tanks Blackarachnia: No, runnig away might be a beter idea. > and Snakebite, and screamed, "Wait! Who told you we were the bad guys?" Blackarchnia: No-one. They've just been reading the story, and want to be rid of you. > At that time, a robot came out of the Snakebite. Inferno: Will our mystery guest sign in please? Blackarachnia: With our luck, it'll be Wheelie. All: Aaaak! > He was a tall red and blue Autobot, wielding a very large > black laser rifle, aiming it at Eleven and Acid Rain. Quickstrike: Shoot! You know you want to! > "Optimus Prime?" Blackarachnia: At last! Some talent! Quickstrike: Don't get your hopes up, sugarbot. Remember how the rest of this fic has gone. > they both said in complete disbelief, before the tanks > started firing again. Inferno: Thanks for the dramaticd pause there, guys. > Eleven changed to truck mode on the pavement, and Acid Rain got in. > Biggles-Jones and Marty had already fled. Blackarachnia: They'd taken refuge in a plot hole. Quickstrike: They were off to collect their pay cheques. > The two robots somehow dodged the tank shells. Inferno: More proud graduates of the Imperial Stormtrooper Marksmanship Academy. > "They won’t fire on us in the human streets," Blackarachnia: Don't be too sure. This is the US Army we're talking about. Quickstrike: I wonder if there are any British troops around for them to shoot at instead. Inferno: That was very dark. > Acid Rain said, and that’s where the two went. Blackarachnia: I see why he's been avoiding the action sequences. He can't write them for slag. > The Hispanic man called off the tanks, Inferno [Man]: Down! Back! Sit! Good boy! > but then Prime said, Quickstrike [Prime]: Ah hell. It's Memphis. Blackarachnia: Good voice there. > "Do not worry. I shall retrieve the criminal." Inferno: Eleven is... The Fugative! Blackarachnia [Prime]: I want you to search every house, out house, green house, dog house, hen house, barn, bush, rock, stream whatever until you find that bot! > The most trusted alien transformed into his 18-wheeler mode, All: [Hum "the Touch" from TF The Movie] > and followed Eleven. All: Follow that car! > The streets adjacent to Beale Street were thankfully empty. Blackarachnia: Convinent that. What's the chances of a street in an American city being free of traffic in the middle of the afternoon? > Acid Rain looked at Prime right behind them in the shattered rear view. Quickstrike [Uncle Jimbo]: It's coming right for us! Blackarachnia: Good voice there too. Quickstrike: Shucks. > "Why is Prime following you, Eleven?" Inferno: Obviously he fells the same way about Eleven as we do. > "I have no idea!" Blackarachnia: My god! Something that he doesn't know! We should frame this moment! > Behind them, Prime screamed, "Halt, criminal!" Quickstrike: BANG! Halt! Victorian Police! Blackarachnia: And a special bonus there for our Australian readers... > "That was Prime’s voice...it had to be him!" Blackarachnia: Could be Ironhide. Or Omega Supreme. Or Tank. Or that fat punk from Megazone 23 pt 2. > "Why is he calling...you...a...criminal... Inferno: Because Eleven's an Avatar! Figure it out! Quickstrike: Naw, he's just from the Good Taste police. > wait a minute! Eleven, I hope > you haven’t been lying to me all this time--!" Quickstrike: And after that stuff he said about him and Prime, about Infinity, about his bunch, about Primus and Unicron and about the Quints and Go-Bots you only figure he's lying now? > "I have not been lying to you! I’m no criminal!" Inferno: This fic's criminal. > "And you thought I was going to betray you—aah! My head! My head! Aah!" Blackarachnia: That's about how I feel now. > "Acid Rain, what’s happening?" Quickstrike: A badly-written action sequence. But never mind. > But she kept screaming, "Trypticon! > They’ve found him! They’ve just moved him to—" Blackarachnia: Well called on Trypticon. Quickstrike: T'wer easy sugarbot. > then she jumped out of Eleven and ran back towards Beale Street. Inferno: Unfortunately, getting in the way of Prime's grill. Blackarachnia: You're dark. Inferno: And loving it! > "Acid Rain!" Prime ignored her as she ran past him. What in Infinity’s > name was going on? > Prime accelerated until he cruised alongside Eleven, cruising to his > left. Inferno: It's the truck from Duel! Quickstrike: More like Mad Max 2. Blackarachnia: Or Battletruck. > Prime swerved abruptly to the right, pushing Eleven into the path > of a human on a sidewalk. Blackarachnia: Of course, he could have just hosed down Eleven with his turret like he did to Tantrum in Gen 2 #6. > He transformed and did a handspring above the > startled man in front of him, and landed on his knees. All: Oooh... Ah... [They hold up cards saying 9.5, 9.1 and 8.9] > Prime transformed as well and nearly stepped on the human. Inferno: Try harder next time. > The Optimus Prime that Eleven > knew had far more respect for the humans; who was this? Quickstrike: Dark Optimus! Blackarachnia: If he's got a Chaos Emerald, I'm outa here. > Prime picked up Eleven by his neck with his left hand. > "Prime...(gag), what are you doing?" Blackarachnia: Ending the fic with any luck. > "You must die, criminal." Inferno [Prime]: For your henious crimes of self-insertion, you shall BUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRNNNNNNNN!!! > Eleven wished he could have told Prime that he > had left! Didn’t Fortress Maximus do it? > "Why, Prime?" Blackarachnia [Prime]: Because it's a crappy fic! > Prime’s laser rifle materialized into his right hand, and he aimed it at > Eleven’s stomach. Blackarachnia: Um... stomach? Quickstrike: That's gonna leave a mark. > "I should have destroyed you on Cybertron," Prime grunted. > "Okay...okay, Prime. Kill me. Inferno: And he did. The end. > But first, tell me, why didn’t you contact > me from Cybertron after all these years?" Quickstrike [Prime]: I didn't have your phone number. > Instead of just shooting Eleven, he tried to give an honest answer > because many humans had been listening to the conversation. Blackarachnia: So? > "I’ve never met you in my life," Prime said. Quickstrike: Shoot him now! > "Prime, what do you transform into on Cybertron?" Blackarachnia: As if he's dumb enough to answer that... > Prime laughed. "A truck, of course." Blackarachnia: Forget it! Forget it! Forget that I ever went on-line. > Wrong, stupid, Eleven thought. Blackarachnia: And this is from the guy who knows him so well that he can't get his Cybertronian mode correct either. > He grabbed Prime’s rifle and kicked him > in the midsection. Eleven said as he aimed the rifle, Inferno [Eleven]: You're a bad guy! Where's your libarary card! Quickstrike: Where's that come from? Inferno: Dunno. > "You aren’t Optimus Prime." All: Naw! You don't say! > Suddenly, "Prime" turned totally black, Quickstrike: Damn mangos go off so quickly. > as though he had become a shadow. Inferno: Now it's crossing over into Babylon 5. > Then he began to metamorphose into a slightly smaller robot, > still totally black, Blackarachnia: I'm taking it than that this guy is a baddie. > with large legs with taloned feet, Inferno: He must go through a fortune in shoes. > with fusion cannons for arms. Quickstrike: And I thought I was lacking in the hand deprtment... > The robot’s eyes were even darker than his shadow > body, black like two black holes. The smile was evil. Blackarachnia: Not that you can see it, what with him being all black. Inferno: Animators are really going to hate this scene. > 666. Quickstrike: Again with the subtle allusions. > "Almost got you again, Eleven," Inferno [666]: You really are stupid, you know that? > he said. The humans were fleeing, after > seeing the robot that they thought was Prime change. > "You!" Quickstrike [666]: The one and only! > Eleven screamed. "What—when—" Blackarachnia: Who's on first, What's on second. > "I’ve been here in Memphis ever since you crashed. I knew you were > alive and would come to your ship, so I told the humans, who believe > Optimus Prime, that if a robot like yourself should show up and be able > to open it, that they should destroy him because he’s ‘an evil Decepticon.’ Blackarachnia: There you go. He summarised the plot to date in one overlong sentance. [Inferno and Quickstrike applaud] > Ingenious, huh? You yoyya." Inferno: Lit "That which lives at the bottom of the Scrabble Bag" > The ancient Soria curse word inflamed Eleven into anger. Blackarachnia: I probably don't want to know what it means. > "You used Prime’s influence against me? You will pay!" Quickstrike: Ooh. I'm scared. > "A qa’rouum who fights! How interesting. Inferno [John Cleese]: How very interesting for you. > But I have more pressing > matters to attend to. Like this." He pressed a button on his arm. Blackarachnia: With what? He has fusion cannons for arms. Quickstrike: Maybe it's an awful big button. > "Listen." > Around the corner on Beale Street, a spaceship exploded. Inferno: Then, ship explode. > The Snakebite. Quickstrike: Nah. How many other spaceships are sitting on that street? > "No!" Eleven screamed. Blackarachnia: Tough luck. Live with it. > "I hope you enjoyed driving here for nothing, Blackarachnia: Just like when you go to any other tourist trap or road side diversion, really. > fool. Inferno [Mr. T] Foo! > I go now to murder your sister on Cybertron. Goodbye!" Quickstrike [666]: Have a nice day! > As Eleven grabbed at him, he > teleported to his DemonRazor mothership above Earth. Blackarachnia: Um, pardon me, but I thought the Demonrazors wanted him dead. I mean, him being the high preist and all. So why not just kill him there? I'm sure two fusion cannons would do the trick nicely. Quickstrike: Maybe he didn't feel up to doing it on his own. That's why he used the humans to do that. Blackarachnia: So why not just attack with a whole horde of his buddies? I mean, he does have that huge black ship following him. Inferno: Because the plot prevents him from doing it. Blackarachnia: Probably. > The humans that did not flee watched Eleven. Inferno: Why? Nothing's going to happen. > The Hispanic man had watched the whole incident. > "Listen...Eleven, I am sorry about what happened..." Quickstrike [Man]: Sorry I tried to kill you and all. > "Where is Trypticon?" > "Who?" Blackarachnia: You know! The plot device. > "The Decepticon battle fortress?" > "It...it was moved here a few hours ago when it was found in the Ocean—" Blackarachnia: Good call on Trypticon, Quickstrike. Quickstrike: Easy. > Eleven was already running back to Beale Street. Blackarachnia: Run Eleven, run! > The Snakebite was destroyed, totally. The explosion had killed several > humans and G.I. Joe guards around it. Inferno: So G.I. Joes don't count as humans? > The Hispanic man and the remaining > troops watched Eleven and he began to lose hope. His ship was gone and > 666 escaped. Quickstrike: I know we've said it before, but it really, really sucks to be him. > The DemonRazor had been planning this ever since yesterday. > He suddenly felt very stupid. Very illogical. Blackarachnia: I don't think he'll get many arguments there. > Beale Street was going to look horrible once this ordeal was over. Blackarachnia: You mean it didn't before? > The > Snakebite’s crash ruined most of it and even killed several tourists. Inferno: Must have made one hell of a photo opportunity. > Eleven would live with the shame of their deaths forever. > Trypticon was not there. Quickstrike: Whoops! Where'd it go? > The Hispanic man, whose name was Liutenant Sanchez, Inferno: So he's a named Redshirt now? > said it had began to fly by itself and flew straight up, Quickstrike: To infinty and beyond! > out of sight. Trypticon left while Eleven struggled with 666. Blackarachnia: He obviously got while the getting was good. > He lost two battles. > The Ark was his only hope now. Or at least the fragments. Quickstrike: I wonder how? Blackarachnia: He's going to auction them off to the collectables market. > He entered the largest one, looking for some sort of Blackarachnia: Plot device? > sub-space radio to contact Cybertron and his sister. Inferno: That's gonna take a lotta quaters. > He remembered the Ark, and each of its > corridors. Blackarachnia: Never mind that it crashed on Earth, was rebuilt, rammed into Unicron, rebuilt, crashed into Earth again, rebuilt and then disintergrated in an anti-matter explosion. > The antimatter chamber was gone; Fortress Maximus destroyed > that. Megatron and Skydive escaped it as it exploded, but it actually > fragmented over the Atlantic Ocean, Blackarachnia: Wrong! It was over the Mid-West USA. Biggles-Jones, Scarlett and Skydive could see the explosion from outside Midville. Quickstrike: Here we go again... > and the remnants were brought to Beale > Street to compare them to the Snakebite, to find similarities. He saw > several humans leaving the Ark as he accessed a Inferno: Walk-in wardrobe? Quickstrike: Drinks machine? Blackarachnia: Script help-line? > sub-space radio— > Then he saw them. Inferno: The Decepticons In Black. > To his right inside the largest Ark fragment, he saw nine stasis pods; Blackarachnia: How corny is this plot? Let me count the ways... > Inside them, nine robots: Inferno: Sleepy, Happy, Dopey... Quickstrike: Larry, Moe, Curly... Blackarachnia: Zeppo, Harpo and Groucho. > Nec-Tor, Freestyle, Firecracker, Saturn, First > Grade, Slick, Hard Drive, Arrowhead, and Roundhouse. > Negative Zero. > Eleven pressed his hand against Roundhouse’s glass. How did they get > here? Inferno: They took a taxi. > Someone must have sent the signal from the Snakebite before 666 > destroyed it. But who? And why? > The answer shot him in the back. Blackarachnia: Appearing suddenly and without warning - or even an establishing shot! > Shockwave was pleased with the smoking hole he left in Eleven’s back. Quickstrike: that's gotta hurt. > Reddish-black smoke rose from his laser arm. Inferno [Shockwave]: That was "Reheat". Now I'm gonna hit you with "Well done". > Eleven groaned twenty feet in front of him. > "I calculated a 99.11317% Blackarachnia: Or thereabouts. > success probability of you coming here, Eleven. Your doom has come." Inferno [Eleven]: Cool! I've been waiting for that game for ages! > "Shockwave!" All: KHAN! > Not him. Inferno: Yes, *him*! > Not the stasis of thirty-eight vorns again. Not > his team dying before his eyes again. Blackarachnia: Not repeating all you said last chapter again! > "You’re—you’re dead! Quickstrike [Shockwave]: Don't you know? No-one truly dies in a Marvel Comic! > You were to have died in the Ark explosion when Galvatron crashed!" Inferno [Eleven]: It says so right here on page 7 of the script! > "Error: Galvatron, Megatron, and Starscream survived. Blackarachnia: Actually, Starscream perished but was ressurected by Megatron using the cloning technology created by Cobra. Megatron himself took two years to revive, and even then was not fully revovered when he attacked Cobra. Galvatron was badly wounded. > There was always a > significant possibility that I might survive as well. Blackarachnia: Excpet that Megatron and Galvatron had allready permanantly off-lined you. > And it is illogical to believe that I am dead when I function before > you." Quickstrike: He's got a point there. > Not again. "It appears that you seek your death once more, Eleven. Inferno [Badly-Dubbed]: Almost wishing to dead! > Your original group of Autobots were granted a quick death, but these.. > shall suffer a great deal more." Blackarachnia: Now that's pretty OOC. He's not sadistic. Quickstrike: He's gonna make them watch the fic! > Shockwave’s purple laser arm began to hum. Inferno: He perfers to hum marches. > It was pointed at Eleven. Quickstrike: You don't say. > He staggered to his feet and mentally > contacted his SSP, bringing him his Inferno: Yo-yo! > Devilslayer BR-13 laser. All: TM. Blackarachnia: There's that sublte religioius imagery again. > Eleven stood facing the stasis pods. Blackarachnia: What are you waiting for, Shockwave? Shoot him! > He turned quickly and fired off three > blasts, none of which hit Shockwave. Quickstrike [Max Smart]: Missed by that much. > Shockwave in turn fired another > blast at Eleven, which he ducked. The blast missed a stasis pod by two > feet. Inferno: that's right. Stand in front of your deactivated buddies and let his misses hit them. > Crouched, Eleven transformed into truck mode and slammed into > Shockwave’s legs, Blackarachnia: Hit and run! > knocking him forward. As the Decepticon hit the ground, > Eleven transformed into robot mode and shot him three times in the leg > and twice in the laser arm. Inferno: for a pacifist, he's a pretty good, pretty fast shot. Blackarachnia: He's an avatat. What do you expect? > When Shockwave tried to stand, Blackarachnia: Allright! Rise above it now! > he shot his other leg. > "Now, Shockwave, talk." Quickstrike [Eleven]: Roll over. Beg. Play dead. > Eleven pointed the Devilslayer at him. Inferno: Go ahead 'Con. Make my day! > The one-eyed robot looked up at him. "I lay deactivated ever since > Galvatron crashed the Ark. Blackarachnia: Ratchet! Ratchet crashed the Ark! > The humans accidentally reactivated me after > they brought the fragments here. Blackarachnia: And no-one noticed him in all the time when they had the fragments? Quickstrike: This is the US Army we're talking about here. > You cannot win, Eleven." Inferno: And that's coming from the guy with no knees left. > "From where I’m standing, it looks like you’re wrong." Blackarachnia [Eleven]: Score one to me! Nyaa! > "Then fall, Autobot!" Shockwave lay beside the radio panel Eleven had > been using. He shot a yellow bolt from his eye to the opposite wall > which bounced to the ceiling to the control panel. Quickstrike: Nice shooting, Tex. > "I have just sent a > radio distress call to every Decepticon in North America, Eleven! You > shall fall, Inferno: He's reall confident on somone receiving it, isn't he? > and this time, there will not be enough of you to put into stasis! Blackarachnia: And there's the corny threat. > Probability: 100%--" > Eleven shot him, shutting him up, but not killing him yet. Quickstrike [Shockwave]: I'm not dead yet. > He was out > of rounds. As he reloaded the Devilslayer, the Ark fragment began to > rumble, Inferno: Are you ready to rumble! Blackarachnia: Frenzy, even. > and Eleven fell. Outside, there was a sickening crash, and two > tyrannosaur hands split the top of the Ark open. Above him, the large > black Decepticon roared. All [Trypticon]: I'm huge! > It was Trypticon. Quickstrike: You don't say. > Shockwave immediately came to, saying, Inferno [Shockwave]: My brain hurts! > "You shall die!" Blackarachnia: Heard it the first time. > But Eleven could not hear. Trypticon roared so loud that his audial > receptors began to short out. Inferno: Trypticon also is a singer in a heavy metal band. > He turned to run, but Trypticon seemed to > step on wherever Eleven was going. Quickstrike: It's like playing Crash Bandicoot. But not as good. > The Ark was caving in. > "Acid Rain!" Eleven screamed. "Hear me, please! It’s Eleven!" Quickstrike [Eleven]: You know! The noxious god-boy! > "Trypticon...in...control," Inferno [Trypticon]: Trypticon... talk... like William... Shatner. > the monster grunted, smiling. Blackarachnia: That's a scary thought. > He opened his mouth and shot a red laser at Eleven, Blackarachnia: The big red one! > immobilizing him completely. Shockwave’s legs healed, Quickstrike [Shockwave]: I'm getting better! > and he stood up, pointing his laser arm at Eleven. "Now you will pay." Blackarachnia [Shockwave]: For your crimes against litrature! > "Hate...Eleven...hate...Eleven... All: Our thoughts exactly. > called...me...little...made...me...act... as... human!" Inferno [Trypticon]: Put me in crappy fanfic! > Trypticon said in Acid Rain’s voice. Quickstrike: A truly sacrey thought. > The Decepticon was controlling Acid Rain. Blackarachnia: Well, Inferno. I gotta hand it to you. You spotted and predicted the set up perfectly. Inferno: Thanks. It was easy. > "Hatehatehate--!" > "Hold, Trypticon. First we shall destroy his Negative Zero." Shockwave > pointed his laser arm at Firecracker, Blackarachnia: Pardon me, but wouldn't it be more sensible to destroy the currently active one? Shockwave is the *logical* type... > the hybrid Go-Bot/Autobot. "This abomination shall be the first to die!" All: Do it! Do it! Do it! > "Firecracker, no!" screamed Eleven. > From deep within Acid Rain/Hotwire/Trypticon came a message Blackarachnia: I'm sorry. Acid Rain is out of her mind at the moment, but If you'd care to leave your name and number she'll get right back to you. > that Acid Rain remembered Eleven saying about Firecracker: Inferno: Something about his arms... > you must stop. you must stop hating. stop hating stop hating stop ! Quickstrike: This is so Star Trek. I may throw up. Blackarachnia: You can't. > "AHHHH!" Trypticon screamed. Inferno: Fic's getting to him too. > "Trypticon?" Shockwave wondered. > The giant Decepticon stopped yelling, turned to Shockwave, and kicked him Inferno: Boot to the head! > into the stasis pods, breaking Firecracker Quickstrike: well done there, idiot. > and three other Zeros free. Quickstrike: Oh. Poopy. > "No!" Shockwave yelled. He transformed into his ray gun mode and shot > Trypticon in the chest, shooting a hole through him. The shot caused a > chain reaction of small explosions within Trypticon, and he screamed in > pain as he died. Blackarachnia: Oh come on. He shrugged off the combined might of the Dinobots. I doubt one hit would kill him like that. > He began to fall. Inferno: Timber! > On Shockwave. He could not move out > of the way fast enough thanks to Eleven’s attacks, and Trypticon crushed > him into very many illogically small pieces. Blackarachnia: I want to laugh. Really. > Only Shockwave’s laser barrel > could be seen, and his voice heard. "Why, Trypticon? Why?" Quickstrike [Trypticon]: Because the voices in my head told me to do it. Blackarachnia: Well called. > Trypticon’s head detached itself Inferno: A trick Waspinator's yet to fully master. > and transformed into Hotwire, whom Acid Rain controlled fully. > "Hotwire?" Blackaracnia: I still want to know what Joyride's engine has got to do with all this... > "Nope." Hotwire’s head transformed into Acid Rain. > "You! The Micromaster fugitive!" Blackaracnhia [Acid Rain]: The one and only! > "Good night, Shockwave!" Blackarachnia [Acid Rain]: Enjoy the comma! > He kept screaming as Trypticon’s weight crushed > him to death. "Chance of you escaping: 0%. Negative zero percent," she > said. All: Ha ha ha. > Then the Ark fragment exploded. Inferno: Killing everyone! Fic over! > 5:58 p.m. Beale Street. Acid Rain’s voice. Quickstrike: The sound of fingernails on a blackboard springs to mind. > "OhmyPrimus, you’re alive!" Eleven was not dead, Inferno: Oh Poopy. > but the pain made him > want to be. His head once again rested in Acid Rain’s lap. Quickstrike: See my earlier comment about Torgo. > "Are you okay?" Blackarachnia: We're not! > "I...can’t...move...again!" Inferno: This happens to him a lot. > Arrowhead spoke up. Blackarachnia [Arrowhead]: Hey everyone! I'm getting a line! > "Ah, do not worry, sir. Hard Drive and I are on the job!" Quickstrike [British]: We'll have it right as rain in no time at all, I say what. > "Arrowhead...Hard Drive...you’re all safe..." Blackarachnia: Despite the fact that the Ark fragment they were in exploded. > "Don’t forget me, O Fearless Leader!" Roundhouse said, her deep voice > making his head shake slightly. Inferno: How could we forget you. Except that you've only just been introduced. > "All of you...safe..." All: Damn. > "And don’t worry about anything, Lev," Acid Rain said. Blackarachnia: I'd worry. > "I told them all > about me and what you and me went through, so they’re cool with me! Inferno: I thought that would be sufficent cause to kill her. > I’m a Zero! Woo-hoo! The eleventh member!" Quickstrike [Acid Rain]: I get to do all the jobs no-one else wants! > "How long have I been..." > "Approximately two hours," Inferno: Ajusted for daylight saving. > Hard Drive said. "Your body is in terrible condition Blackarachnia: He should go to the gym more often. > from the explosion Trypticon caused, Quickstrike: Trippy's ben burrito kick finally got the better of him. Blackarachnia [Grabs him]: You do one more like that and I will kill you very, very, slowly. Quickstrike: Ah... Sorry. > but with luck—" All [Eleven]: Not luck. > "Not luck," Eleven said. [All grin] > "—er, right, we’ll get you a new Z-71 cab and Sierra chassis." Inferno: Try those nice men operating out of the back of the van over there. > First Grade came and sat Eleven upright. He was still at Beale Street. Blackarachnia: For Eleven, like the plot, has gone nowhere. > A devastated Beale Street. Inferno: Those tourists can be murder on a place. > "The news crew has already been here and gone," Quickstrike: Expcet to be misquoted on the 6 o'clock bulliten. > Freestyle said. Freestyle was Eleven’s second-in-command. Blackarachnia: Thankyou. We needed to know that. > "The city of Memphis pardoned you and the damage." Inferno [Freestyle]: They said "We're sorry. Our bad." > "Even to Beale Street?" Quickstrike: Actually, they said it was a considerable improvement. > "Yes. They are in your debt for attacking you and not 666. They will pay > for the cost of your new body. Blackarachnia: Unfortunately, the only place they could get one from was Crazy Eddie's used cars. > You can stay here as long as you want, > according to them. The mayor wants to publicly commend you tomorrow, or > whenever your body is finished." Inferno: And as soon as the press arrives. It is re-election time. > "You’re a hero! You’re a hero!" raved Saturn, her voice shrilling, Blackarachnia: Great. Another screaming meemie like Acid. > yet music to Eleven’s ears. Quickstrike: He must have weird taste in music. > "We haven’t won anything, Zeros," their leader said. Blackarachnia: Great. Just rain on their collective parades, why don't you? > "But we do have a new team member." They all looked at Acid Rain. Inferno [Random Zero]: Aw gee, do we have to? > "Oh, guys..." > "I’m going to contact Seven on Cybertron, and she may have to bring us > home in the Steelhaven II. Quickstrike: The busses don't go that far. > Then, we can liberate our brethren on Cybertron. > And chase away our enemies. Our way." All: Whine for peace! Snivel for justice! > The team was pepped now, for their leader was back. Blackarachnia: they're relying on him to lead them? They are in trouble! > Two days passed. Blackarachnia: It seems like two days since this chapter began. > Eleven attended the mayor’s party on the 23rd, along > with the rest of his team. Eleven was given a new GMC Sierra chassis > (freshly waxed, thanks to Acid Rain’s request). Quickstrike: They agreed if she'd shut up and go away. > Afterwards, Eleven > apologized to Dr. Biggles-Jones (and reimbursed Marty his $7.87) Inferno: Never mind about fixing her roof... > Negative Zero toured the entire city that night. Blackarachnia: And got caught in traffic. > The Zeros with car > transformations were given a double garage each in which to spend their > sleep cycles. Quickstrike: They all awoke the next morning to find themselves stripped and up on bricks. > Acid Rain slept in the truck bed of Eleven. Earth suddenly > became a comfortable place. Blackarachnia: Strange definition of comfort. > Many tourists all over the nation came to Memphis to see the Steelhaven > II land, and to see it take off, into deep space. All: Hooray! We're rid of them! Inferno [Mayor]: See? I told you! Act nice to them and they'll go away! > The Zeros left Earth for Cybertron. Inferno: And then they all had Ice Cream! > "So, you actually burnt the words, ‘Run Scanner Here’ into yourself with > your own acid field?" Blackarachnia: She's either very talented, or just very good with those contrivances. Probably the latter. > "Yeah! It was easy to send a fake signal to the checkout scanner." Blackarachnia: Well, that's one ludicrous contrivance explained away. I still want to know why no-one in the store was concerned about this though. > "So, April, or Alison, you cost about eight dollars, huh?" Quickstrike: Less. She has an inflated veiw of herself. > "Oh, shut up!" Inferno: Three-one. Eleven wins. > The Steelhaven II was flying through the Alpha Centauri star system. Blackarachnia: They're taking the senic route. > Seven and Eleven were piloting the ship, Inferno [Eleven]: My turn with the wheel! > while the rest of the team rested in > their sleep cycles. Of course, Acid Rain remained awake, talking nonstop. Quickstrike: So what else is new? > Seven said to her brother mentally: so, this is the eleventh member. Blackarachnia [Seven]: I say we dump her. Now. > maybe it could’ve been worse, sister of mine. All: How? > Seven smiled in her pilot seat. > Eleven did as well. There were more problems in the universe than stars > in galaxies, but sometimes, even in all the pain, there was some comfort. Quickstike: You know, the problems of two Qua'room and a Micromaster don't make for a hell of a lot of beans in this crazy, mixed-up universe. > He had a two-day trip until Negative Zero hit Cybertron, Blackarachnia: Not another road movie! Inferno: Your in-flight movie is "Alive". > the first > time as a single team unit. He had time to relax and enjoy his team’s > company until the war began anew. Quickstrike: Or the next chapter starts. > He looked over his shoulder to see that Acid Rain had entered her sleep > cycle Blackarachnia: looks like Eleven's personality hit her full in the face. > hanging over his pilot seat. Eleven noticed that the letters "NZ" > were spray-painted on her shoulders and chest. Perhaps she needed rest to > readjust her psyche to not having Hotwire and Trypticon, which were both > destroyed in the explosion. Inferno: The tradgedy of it all. Struck down in the prime of their lives with a fatal plot contivance. > Or maybe she fell asleep there for another > reason...such an illogical gesture! Maybe compassion and trust were > illogical, but he had them anyway. > Maybe there was somewhere to go in outer space. Blackarachnia: And, as I've maintaining since the first millicycle of the first part of this fic- All: There is everywhere to go in space! > The End. All: Hooray! No more NEgative Zero: Immigration Ever! > ------------------------------------------------------------------------ > If you liked "Negative Zero: Immigration" by Christopher Jones, Quickstrike: You probably suffer from Insomnia. > e-mail him. > ------------------------------------------------------------------------ > Back All: To the real world! [They all get up and leave] [Door 1 - A vault door. It's unlockled] [Door 2 - A revolving door. You go round a few times then proceed] [Door 3 - An elevator door. You push the button and it opens] [Door 4 - A garage door. You blip it with the remote, then open it manually when that fails] [Door 5 - It's a Catflap. You crawl through it] [SoP Bridge. The console is bleeping] Blackarachnia: That'll be the big cheese wanting to know how we got on. [She turns on the console. Galvatron appears on the screen grinning like a maniac.] Galvatron: So, drones! Minds bent to my will yet? Lost your desire to continue your pitiful existances? Feel like bowing down before me? Inferno: By the pit, no! Not after that, and not ever! Galvatron: Poopie. Blackarachnia: Sorry. Galvatron: So you're not even feeling just a bit bent to my will? Quickstrike: Nope. Galvatron: No slight feelings of wanting to end your existances? Blackarachnia: None that I've noticed. Galvatron: No sudden, strange desires to bow down before me just a little bit? Inferno: [Shakes head] Galvatron: Slag it. So how do you feel? Inferno: Bored. Quickstrike: Like a short nap. Blackarachnia: Annoyed at the discontinuities and plot conrivances, but that's about it. Sorry. Looks like we're not going mad in a hurry. [Darkside 13] Galvatron: Ah... nuts. Megastorm? [Megastrom walks in carrying a floppy disk] Feed the other three Negative Zero stories into the incinerator, Looks like they're not going to do the trick. [He walks off-screen] [SoP] Blackarachnia: Three... stories? You mean that was just the beginning? [Darkside 13] Galvatron: Yes, but they clearly won't work. I'll have to move onto... harder stuff. [Megastorm re-enters]. [SoP] Quickstrike: We're in the slag now. Blackarachnia: You said it. [Darkside 13] Galvatron: There is one other thing. I realised that I am, essentailly, paying for your accomidation and living, while getting nothing in return. So I thought that starting next Fic, we would have an Invention Exchange. I will invent something, and show it off to you. In return, you will invent something, and show it off to me. And then I'll pirate it. [SoP] Blackarachnia: That's stupid. Galvatron: Never, ever say that to the bot with the Energon Radition button! Push the buton, Megastorm! Megastorm: Right! You guys asked for it! [The screen goes black] Galvatron: Wrong button! [SMASH] Epilouge: [Scene: A drakened room. Two sillouetted robotic figures are talking]. Shadow 1: Very, very interesting. Shadow 2: Yeah. But I don't understand how this helps us at all. Shadow 1: No, you don't you dolt. You see, I will monitor Galvatron's little experiment. Shadow 2: Uh-huh. And? Shadow 1: And I will see what works and doesn't. And I will use the data from that experiment for my own purposes. Shadow 2: But isn't there some risk? in our curent state, it's very dangerous for us to expose ourselves to them. Shadow 1: No. They aren't even aware of our existance. Shadow 2: Oh... That's allright then. [Extreme close in zoom on Shadow 1] Shadow 1: And then... I will use the experiment to get my revenge against the Trnasformers! And then... I will rule the galaxy! [Maniacal laughter] [Clang] Shadow 1: Pick that up will you? And do turn on the lights. [The screen goes black] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Endnotes: And thus ends my first experiment. If all goes well, there will be more in this series. Can Waspinator free the Preadacons? Where are Megatron, Tarantulus and Rampage? And who are the mysterious shadows? All may be revealled... ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Riffed by: Rick R. Mortis (rickr@one.net.au) Blackarachnia, Inferno and Quickstrike are copyright 1995-1998 Hasbro/Kenner. Galvatron and Megastorm are copyright 1996-1998 Tankara. Rick's Mecha Madness Page: http://www.geocities.com/TimesSquare/Realm/7194/index.htm AntiKevs, Mekton Z conversions, fanfic drinking game, the one and only Common Sense Timeline, crazy Fighters' Anthology .lib and missions, and Utterly Disturbing Nova Satori Shrine. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ > "Yes. They created the Go-Bots."