26th Transmission

[heavyweaponsbot]

... Ow! Rocks...?

[Silence - except for the familiar creaking and groaning of metal as Ironhide looks around. When he speaks, the gravely, aged voice is back. He does sound more... groggy... than usual. "Hungover", would be a better word.]

What... just happened...? Why... am I in... the bar?

[And as it all dawns on him. Crap, crap, crap.]

... I can explain everything. To all of you. Ratchet--I did... not mean to leave...

Comments

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

I would suggest you explain quickly.

Preferably, before I reach the bar.

[heavyweaponsbot]

I was not... damaged when I got here... last night.

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

I believe I understand, based on my own memories.

I was not aware that you had such a low opinion of medics.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[He groans. He knew this was coming...]

I... was stupid. Back then. It was a long time ago.

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

Now that I am more aware, it is actually rather amusing.

But do not think that means you are 'off the hook,' as the humans would say. I am still confiscating your communicator and restricting you to your quarters until I am satisfied with the state of your spark casing.

[heavyweaponsbot]

You... sure? Things are... different now. I... yeah.

Mmn. Probably best... [He is currently a little too hungover to argue with you, dear.]

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

We have all changed since before the war. You are far too paranoid - You were young, foolish... And have always been thick-headed. I believe it is a part of your charm.

I will be there momentarily to escort you back.

Ah, now I recall - Bumblebee has rejoined us. I shuld probably speak to him, now that I am more... functional.

[heavyweaponsbot]

Am not paranoid... just... want to make sure you... knew what was what. And I do not have charm.

Mmnf.

... He contacted me already.

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

Are you worried that I might take offense to your view of 'dirt scraping civilians'? Clearly you do, or I would not tolerate your grumbling.

Well, I am pleased to know you did not manage to frighten him away - or flirt with him, as it sounds from some others who interacted with you.

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

Finally back to normal, huh?

[heavyweaponsbot]

[hsdfsdjfds dfs oh All Spark why.]

... Yeah.

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

Oh, that's good to know.

[Yeah. Trying not to giggle.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

... Yeah. It is.

[So. Embarrassed. You don't even know.]

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

That's awesome. Glad to know you're not wandering around thinking everyone's a robot anymore.

[heavyweaponsbot]

I was... very... young.

[chopshopgoddess.livejournal.com]

And frisky.

Bet you were a real ladies man.

[heavyweaponsbot]

... What?

[bitchingcamaro.livejournal.com]

"♫ Here we are, dear old friend, you and I drunk again--"

[heavyweaponsbot]

... Who is this?

[bitchingcamaro.livejournal.com]

"♫ Tell me, who are you? (Who are you? Who, who, who, who?)
'Cause I really wanna know--"


"Nobody of great importance--"

[heavyweaponsbot]

[This is naggingly familiar, but... his head is too foggy.]

Identify yourself.

[bitchingcamaro.livejournal.com]

_{[And Flight of the Bumblebee (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yvaw2NtJgDc) begins playing.]}

[heavyweaponsbot]

I am disconnecting this channel.

[He is... trying to stay calm. Ratchet ordered rest. But it's difficult.]

[ Text ]

[bitchingcamaro.livejournal.com]

What, you can't take a bit teasing any more, you old slagger?

[Voice]

[heavyweaponsbot]

... who is this? Make it quick. My head hurts.