| abstract
| - It is a calm night in Mejico. The sun has just set beneath the hilly, blasted horizon lines - lain waste by Decepticon Evil. The sky is bright red, fading to blue then finally the deep dark violet of the night sky broken up by bright little pinpricks. Crickets chirp down in the valley, the valley is the only part of Mexico, along the border, where the land is not all smashed and ruined. Large as it is, a large fraction of it is allready being transformed into a constructicon bunker. The sounds of them working echo over the crickets down by where the people are. The people, a small crowd of them laughing and enjoying themselves by fires lit around a wide ring marked out with heavy rocks. Within the 'arena' cocks claw at eachother, a bloody gruesome and thoroughly entertaining affair, and many dirty filthy birds flap amidst their dirty filthy cages around the very rim of the ring. Quickswitch, who has been helping these refugees, looks on this with thin slatty eyes that are at the very least, unimpressed. But he holds a palm out gently to Fairway as they watch one chicken gash the other's throat out on the ground. "I know it's barbaric. And I realize it is against the geneva SPCA convention act of 20010 ... but. --but. These people have had it hard. They need some leniency." is other hand jerks out rigidly, suddenly, and pins a small mexican youth against the ground. " I'm a robot." He chastises the boy. "That's an empty wallet I bought from you 20 minutes ago and masking taped to my aft. You want to go to the brig for the night?" All gazes loom toward a darkened shadowy cave near camp. The sounds of rattling cumps promptly cue. Sunstreaker watches as the fowl goes after the other fowl, clucking, flapping, and slashing. It reminds him of Cybertron on the verge of war, the gladiatorial pits. He feels a little homesick remembering those times. It's a good feeling.. and as one rooster opens up a artery on another, he smiles. His attention turns to Quickswitch and his would be pickpocket. "Toss him to the birds." suggests Momma Lambor's Bad Son, "I'm sure he'll learn his lesson." Mexico used to be an awesome place to go to. Trendy Decepticons used to go there and cause stupid amounts of mayhem every now and then and it was pretty awesome. That was before the majority of the Decepticon forces decided to camp out all over the country. What was once 'ironic' and 'edgy' is now 'trendy'. It's not fun anymore. There's nothing left to do here that hasn't already been ruined by everyone else. Except for one thing. Sinnertwin stands atop a small hill; a wooden crate tucked underneath his arm. "Today," he whispers omniously to no one. "Today I will be king." Fairway watches the birds fighting with growing disgust. He whipsers, "They've had it hard, yes, but I fail to see how this wasteful and brutal spectacle is supposed to provide relief of any kind. What could the purpose of this sport be?" He starts as Quickswitch lashes out at the youth, his hand instinictively going to his rifle. But he does not act. He looks over Quickswitch's shoulder at the frightened child, the horrible dying sounds of birds ringing in his audio receptors. "Taking the little thing to the cockfighting ring may be overly cruel, but I endorse the idea of revealing his theivery to the authorities." Quickswitch transforms, traditional chuck chuk chuk noise. "And I!" breathes Blueshift, popping up beside Sinnertwin, a box in his hands too. "I will be queen!" Sinnertwin slowly turns to Blueshift. "....Did you follow me?" Blueshift stares at Sinnertwin. "No" he lies. "Did you follow ME?" Blot Monster isn't far behind Sinnertwin though the Terrorcon has been missing for some time now doing who knows what. Thier horrific leader off searching for him and nowhere to be found now Blot blindly follows Sinnertwin around now. He chimes in "GRIMLOCK KING!" in his best Dino-voice. Quickswitch looks at Sunstreaker. His visage is blank, eyes widening slightly as he lifts the boy, his movements are gentle and he clearly is not going to harm the lad. "You need to learn your lesson." He says to the boy, turning to Fairway. Quickswitch nods, and sighs a low, longwinded sigh. "You're right. Only by showing civility can they become civil." The Sixchanger marches off towards the cave, calling out : "POLIZIA POLIZIA?" And a couple of dudes with hats come out of the cave. Some words are murmured, and the boy is exchanged. Quickswitch immediately jogs back. "Allright, Sunstreaker, 5:1 odds for Morning Dewclaw over Mother's Soul. Let's make this interesting." And the authorities remain outside the cave jabbering amongst themselves. Sinnertwin doesn't say anything to Blueshift. No. Instead, he turns to his best (only) follower. "Blot, I thought the rules were no Dinobot name dropping. Ever." Fairway puts a hand on Quickswitch's shoulder to stop him. He looks back and forth between Quickswitch and Sunstreaker. "You're not seriously considering encouraging this?" He seems to shrink then, and drops his arms to his sides. Blueshift shakes his box. "Grimlock isn't a dinobot like Powerglide is!" he sneers at Sinnertwin. "Come, let us be victorious in this battle!" Blot Monster droops his shoulders and lowers his snout like a scolded puppy. "BLOT fo'got." he grimmaces slightly readying himself for the incoming *thwap*. "Forgetfullness is not an excuse!" Sinnertwin hollers. He brings his hand up to slap Blot across his little monster face but before he does anything, something catches his attention. "Blueshift.. do you see what I see?" Sinnertwin points down to the valley. "I pray there are only Mexicans down there." Sunstreaker conceals his disappointment over not getting to see the born torn to ribbons by bladed cocks beneath his cool exterior. There will be other chances after all. In answer to the offer of odds, The Yellow Lambor simply fixes Quickswitch with a look of scrutiny befor offering a answer of, "You're kidding, right?" With a wave of his hands he motions to the birds, "I'm not going to put money on those things, their barely capable of being considered organisms." Strap a few knives on the people and toss them in the ring though and he'll have his money on the table befor the first knife wound. Of course his pleasent thoughts of human bloodsport are interupted by a shout of 'GRIMLOCK KING'. "Company." he informs the other two in a fit of stating the obvious. Blueshift stares at the Autobots present. He can see them quite clearly. "Yeah, just Mexicans. Some Mexican kids, some Mexican adults, and three giant robot Mexicans" Sinnertwin rubs his chin and nods. "Hmm...well..I guess I was worried for nothing. Everything seems normal, let's go down there and show those losers how much better we are!" Blot Monster is spared the strike this time and nod nod nods at the suggestion to move on. He trudges behind Sinnertwin leaving a nice snail trail of Blot glop behind him. Fairway activates his combat visor and looks out into the dark. He takes up his rifle and holds it against his hip. He scowls. "Looks like these locals will at last have some real violence to distract them." Quickswitch nods to Sunstreaker, and then delivers a stony but reassuring return to Fairway. "Apparently we're not." Then as the authorities return, holding the stuggling youth, his attention and that of the crowd turns away giving the janitors time to clean Mother's Soul's chicken soup from the ring. They yell in spanish before throwing the lad to the birds. "YOU STEAL FROM SAN QUICKSWEECH?" Blueshift lifts his box and shakes it. There is a soft thud from inside as something hits the sides. "BEHOLD, EL BLUESHIFTO!" Sinnertwin raps his fingers on his own box; a DASTARDLY look on his features. "Heheheh..yes...We will be the winners.." He puffs his chest out and walks on down towards the Mexicans and Mexican robots. He hefts the box over his head and bellows, "BEHOLD! YOUR FUTURE CHAMPION!" "Wait, are you guys Autobots?" Sunstreaker's chromed face works its way into a tight lipped smile. He's not paying too much attention to the Decepticon approach. The hispanics just threw a kid into a make-shift pit full of blade covered KFC. "Nope." he answers Sinnertwin. "We'd have shot you by now otherwise, right?" "YOU CAN'T FOOL ME!" Sinnertwin yells while pointing very rudely at Sunstreaker. "You are an Autobot infidel! I SHOULD TEAR YOU APART RIGHT THIS SECOND! However...I am not here on Decepticon business. Lucky for you." He turns and gestures to the fighting ring. "WHO IS IN CHARGE OF THIS AMATEUR COMPETITION?" Quickswitch shakes his head. "No, we're with the department of labor." "Yessss!" hisses Blueshift. "Bring forth your champion, mine will crush them in the cock ring!" Fairway retracts his visor and slackens his stance as it dawns on him what the Decepticons have in mind. Instead of stepping out and telling Sinnertwin that he refuses to let countenance any Decepticon presence here, not to mention further cockfighting, he looks to Quickswitch. "Ideas?" "YES! WE WILL USE YOUR COCK RING TO FURTHUR OUR VICTORIOUS REPUTATION!" Sinnertwin shouts despite the fact he's, like, five feet away. He moves over to one side of the ring and makes room for himself by shoving and swatting people out of the way. The box he was carrying is placed within the ring. "BRING ME YOUR FINEST WARRIOR!" Quickswitch becomes quiet. "I vowed a vow of secrecy regaurding my seventh mode. But I will not stand for this." There is a sound of transformation cogs whirring, Quickswitch becomes a tiny robo-chicken, which is also very bricklike in shape. It claws out onto the ring and strands up straight, shaking its head at Blueshift. "Buk Buk Buk*zz*aaAAWWW*zz*zK" Blueshift staggers back. "BY PRIMUS NO!" he exclaims in horror and terror Fairway stands with his mouth hanging open, his rifle limp in his hands. Blot Monster continues to kinda' just be the silent thug in the background. He stands slightly behind Sinnertwin a bit of drool forming in the corner of his mouth as he eyes the tasty and most likely Dorito flavored crowd around him. Sinnertwin gasps and recoils in disgust at Quickswitch's transformation. "Ugh! What a hideous beast! But...very well. I will take you on!" He leans over and opens the box revealing a large cock. A large cock with a revolver duct taped to his side. "LET US BEGIN!" "Yeah, Labor." agrees Sunstreaker dryly. He watches on, impartial and largely just uncaring. That is until Quickswitch becomes a chicken with a Puma head and a drill mouth. "Alright, this slag's just gotten too weird for me." proclaims the sociopathic autobot, his hands lifted into the air in surrender. That said, Sunstreaker turns around and walks away. "Oh..." Blueshift stares at Sinnertwin's entry, and at Quickswitch's form. He opens his box and looks into it. Then he stares at Sinnertwin's cock and Quickswitch's cock mode. "/Oh/" Quickswitch bends down and plucks up a large pebble in his beak. His glowing eyes waggle tauntingly at the magnum-sized cock as he leaps forewards, wings flapping crazily to grant him some form of flight-like upwards arc. The Autobot then plunks the blockage into the barrel of the gun hammering it in with not one but two savage swats of his drill-pecker before wrapping a clawed foot around the throat of cock until it's head becomes bright red and swollen with blood. Bluehshift tips his box onto the floor. There is a thump as what looks a bit like a bloodied sausage falls out. "Go get them!" he shouts. The sausage starts to slowly crawl towards Quickswitch! Sinnertwin's cock attempts to fire off a round at Cockswitch but the gun ends up backfiring and he just explodes into a bloody, feathery mess. "Goddamnit," Sinnertwin hisses. Quickswitch stands there. Watching the sausage. The gun backfires, exploding, and liquefying the bird, while glancing off of Quickswitch's impressively condensed armour. Standing there, bloodied head dangling from its pecker. Quickswitch just watches the adversary creep. Fairway squares his jaw and clenches his fist around the handle of his rifle. He looks to Sunstreaker, briefly considering following him. Then he drags a baleful stare over the faces of the Decepticons surrounding him and calls down to cock mode Quickswitch. "This is getting absurd! We'd be better off if we just started shooting." The sausage-like object keeps slowly crawling towards Quickswitch. In Blueshift's hand is a remote control that he is secretly (not very) using. He presses a button, and the sausage rears, a laser shooting out of its head! This is prolly as good a time as any for Blot to get his cock in on the action too. One of his tiny little arms reaches around and wretches loose a wad of Blot goo. With a sloppy *splat* Blot's smelly cock lands in the ring. The bird stuggles and flaps about but his cock is covered in some sort of slime. The smelly cock continues to flop about in an erratic circle. Sinnertwin just stares at Blot's cock in terror. "Does that look infected to you?" Blot Monster shrugs and doesn't even know what infected means. "BLOT no know." Fairway sags, dumbfounded. He would have preferred a real cockfight to this. The dead boy's blood is still in the ring. "Give me one reason I shouldn't transform and crush your . . . creatures . . . under my tires, Terrorcon?" He says to Sinnertwin Quickswitch *bugGAWKS* as the fowl head in its jaw explodes in a puff of gore and feathers. There is the whirr of cogs again and Quickswitch suddenly towers in the ring. He bends down and grabs the slime crusted rooster off the ground and leaps high into the air. He comes down on the 'sausage' with both knees as he artfully swoooshes the slime covered bird onto Blueshift's remote operating hands. Quickswitch's display was so stunning that it knocks Sinnertwin off his feet. "Your moves are too fresh.." he coughs. Quickswitch says, "Ha! Your sticky schemes will never wash, villains!" "I don't know how much longer I can take this!" Sinnertwin hisses. "My cock just couldn't stand up to the abuse!" Quickswitch winks at Sinnertwin. "You could take it for about as long as I could dish it out to you." Blueshift looks at his hands in horror and moves to wipe them off on Sinnertwin. "Ugh, for that Autobot, you will give me your gun" Sinnertwin is used like a paper towel but it's ok. "You have completely destroyed my cock! It's bruised and bleeding and it can no longer get up. I...I have to retreat! Blot! Leave Blueshift to his fate!" Fairway goes to Quickswitch's side, unsure exactly what he's prepared for next. He tries to avoid stepping in the goo left by Blot's "combatant." Unable to think of anything else to do, he aims his weapon at the Decepticons. "NO!" Blueshift calls, waving a hand at the Terrorcons. "I really really want one of Quickswitch's photon blasters. Whilst he is tiny like a chicken, it is a perfect opportunity!" He starts chasing after the robo-chicken like in Rocky Blot Monster transforms in a whirl of moving parts as a shower of Blot slop is sprayed on the crowd and anyone in the general area. Now in robot mode he leaps to the skies leaving Blueshift alone to get the blaster himself. Quickswitch is being chased, he obliges, transforming back into a chicken, but stands his ground, staring Blueshift down before firing lasers from his own eyes. Sinnertwin takes to the night sky as well. Blueshift should be fine. He gets ditched all the time. "Quickly, Blot! TO THE TERRORCON CAVE!" "THE TERRORCAVE, IF YOU WILL!" he adds. Blueshift is struck, in the face, but he reaches down to try to pluck the chicken's lasery tail! Fairway steps forward to stand in Blueshift's way as the Decepticon flails after Quickswitch. "Stop this madness! If it's a blaster you want now, I would be happy to provide you with a blast from my own to satiate you." "No!" Blueshift stops. "I uh... really really admire the Quickswitch chicken's amazing victory, and want one of his photon blasters as a souveneir. I will /pay/" Fairway cannot even imagine beginning to think about trusting Blueshift, if only because of the sigil he wears. "Preposterous. What say you, friend Quickswitch?" Quickswitch explodes as Blueshift's hands wrap around his lasery tail! The smoke is amateurish at best. And when it clears, a small plasma pistol, jet propelled, lies in the center of the ring. "Yesss!" cries Blueshift, scooping up the pistol victoriously. "I am the champion!" He points it at Fairway, retreating slowly. "I will take my prize, and you cannot stop me!" A blue whoosh greets you as a mini Blueshift flies past. Looking down, you see a delightful +nom has been pinned to you. Yay! Fairway stands shaking his head in disbelief. He stashes his pistol and puts a hand on his head. He starts to smile, but resists.
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