| abstract
| - Trypticon Command Center Once you enter this gigantic room, the first thing you see is the computer on the north wall. The main computer is Trypticon himself, regularly checking the perimeter defenses of the city. The viewer currently shows an exterior shot of the outside of the city. Several other monitors show various other views, still more display computer graphics to do with Trypticon's status, giving the viewer the current situation around the Earth at a split second's notice. Along the other walls are computer terminals that can be used to pull data from the main computer core. On the south wall is a large purple Decepticon symbol. HAPPY GALVATRON'S CREATION DAY!! Well, that's what the GIGANTIC banner strung from the ceiling reads at least. Last time on "Backfire's Fun-Time Hour", everyone's favorite (or most hated) eccentric dope of a Seeker started setting up the command center inside of Trypticon for.. GALVATRON'S BIRFDAY!! Streamers are strung about, tables with games and photobooks of happy memories with Galvatron (half of them are of him incinerating insubordinate Decepticons), a refreshment stand with plenty of enerhol and non-inebriating substances for consumption, and of course.. a grand table in the back with a stack of presents on it. All wrapped up in metallic purples. Backfire is currently running the show, directing the traffic with clipboard in hand. "Nononono, I wanted TANGERINE tea lights.. not ORANGE!" he rages at a gumbie, who's nervously shaking. "Oh uh, yes sir!" "Damn right, 'yes sir'" he mocks in a nasal voice, making a funny face. Whirling around, the Seeker simpleton looks around the room.. almost perfection, he thinks. Banshee enters... very carefully... with a giftwrapped parcel. It's about twenty feet tall (just a few feet smaller than herself) and about six feet wide. It's also very thin, and wrapped in silver paper marked with holographic Decepticon insignia. She looks around at the decorated room and blinks. "Vass... Vass haben sie getan?" she asks. "Galvatron's going to go /spare/..." Two large doors slide open, revealing the Main Hallway of Trypticon, and the loud rumble of the humvee's engine. Officially classified as a light truck in the United States, at seven feet wide, it still easily clears the doors meant to serve combiners such as Piranacon or Predaking. However, this vehicle does not produce exhaust in the traditional sense. No toxic fumes filling up the expansive room, polluting the air quality, not that any of its occupants require air for that matter. It seems that Swindle has adjusted himself to have a convertible roof, which retracts, folding down, revealing the spacious interior, and the many presents, all very large, he's practically brimming with them, and each of them being individually wrapped in paper, with bows around them. The dashboard lights up and sound emits from the humvee, "Backfire, where do you want the presents?" As one of the taller Decepticons, it falls to Motormaster to help with the purple crepe bunting and garland; he's hammering it into place while Scavenger, standing on Long Haul's shoulders, holds it for him. "Color be damned, Backfire," bellows Motormaster over his shoulder as he arranges the fluffy bunting, "what matters is how hot the flame! The Lord of Destruction's office demands the ULTIMATE creation day party! His tea lights should DOMINATE all lesser tea lights! His candles should be a searing pillar of wrath!" And sitting in Swindle's driver's seat is Slugfest! His little front feets are too short to work the steering wheel, but he's making a 'pbbbbbbbbb' noise with his mouth, to mimic the sound of an engine. Also, he's covered in glitter! Some of it's caked around his chainsaw plates. It looks like a bag of glitter exploded and doused him from above. "My pressie best pressie!" he says. "Ooh, what is it?" Fusillade asks curiously of Banshee from behind the dive-bomber's left shoulder. "It'll be interesting to see how this goes over, I... don't recall ever seeing this done. It'll be spectacular, I'm sure. Success or disaster, though, is anyone's guess." She parks herself by the refreshment table, sizing up the very generous spread of high-grade energons. Misfire slowly walks into the room and glances at each of the various Decepticons and tosses a couple of brief nods. He is holding a small picture like object which has a very sloppy wrapping job and a mis-applied Decepticon logo on the front. Misfire slowly slips into the back and nervously glances around. Oddly enough, Aimless does not appear to be with the targetmaster. Banshee smiles luxuriously at Fusillade. "Ein painting. On NATO heavy triple, incase our Lord finds this party... distasteful." Giving the gumbie a swift kick in the rear, Backfire turns to the new arrivals. "Banshee, after you drop that present over yonder.." he points at the table against the far wall already loaded with presents. "I need you to run the guest book station!" he swivels to point at a small podium, where Decepticons are already milling in and signing the book. Nodding at Swindle, the Seeker merely points again to the table in the back. "Yes yes Motormaster, we shall have a GRAND flame befitting our Emperor of DESTRUCTION!" the dope smiles wide, scanning around. "Misfire, follow Swindle.. he'll show you where to drop off the gift. And I‘m suuuuuuuuuuuure he‘ll need help unloading." Sauntering up towards the crude paper mache Unicron they had constructed the night before, Backfire whirls around to face Fusillade. "Executrix, could you hang this most GLORIOUS pinata?" Swindle's glove compartment pops open, and a little tray slides out, similar to a computer's compact disc tray, only this one contains cassetticon sized sunglasses, "With all that glitter, you'll probably need a pair of light reducing glasses Slugfest. Don't worry, I'll just add the cost to Soundwave's account." To Backfire, he replies, "Sure, no problem, but could you spare a con to help unload me?" He then drives over towards the table, moving slow enough so the mountain of presents he contains don't topple over and bury poor Slugfest in a present avalanche. Astrotrain arrives through the big doors not long afterwards. But unlike the -rest- of the people here, he's actually unaware of what's going down! He'd just gotten back from a deep space journey, and had his radio turned off for the final part of it (he has this theory that space bugs follow his radio signals). Such that it is that when the doors slide open, the triplechanger is greeted by...glitter, and sparkles, and Decepticons mingling around and...is that a pinata? For a few moments, Astrotrain just stares, blinks slowly, then raises his hands to rub at his optics a few times. What are his thoughts about all of this that he's seeing before him? "Okay seriously. What. The." *FWEEEEEEEEET!* One of those gumbies must have got his hands on one of those party horns. *screech screeech screeeeeeech* Now what could that racket of metal scraping on metal possible be? How about part of the refreshments? ... Oh, you mean the screeching noise? Oh, that's just because the flatbed trailer Carnivac is dragging into the room is missing it's wheels. How else do you think he got it to stop? But don't pay attention to that! Pay attention to the fact that there's still several oil barrels (which is about appropriate to a small keg or a large can of beer, depending on the size) strapped to the back of it. Folks, this is what happens when the dog chases a vehicle and -catchs- it. Finally he stops and drops the end from his mouth, letting it thud to the ground loudly, tail thumping loudly against his armor as it wags. "I brough the booze!" Note for future parties -- Don't try to use 'beer run' as a distraction to try and keep a certain lunatic busy. He'll take it as a serious request. Slugfest had been squinting, and yays as the sunglasses pop out. Somehow he manages to put them on. "Now no is so bright!" he says. He looks around and ooohs and ahhhs. His shaded gaze falls upon the pinata. "OOOOH are candies in there? Energon candies? Can use me cut it open when time!" Misfire slowly moves behind Swindle, makes a quick mental note to check his credit stash afterwards, and proceeds to place his gift on the table. He glances at all the other gifts and lets out a sigh. "i new I should have gone big." He then inches back towards Swindle and all his subspace compartments make a noticable clicking sound as they lock. "Need help Swindle?" Banshee looks over at Backfire and nods, dropping off her present as close to the guest-book station as possible, with enough of a gap between it and the wall that she can grab it and use it for cover if Galvatron starts swinging his fusion cannon around. She just watches the Gumbies sign it, getting ready to use her Luger-styled pistol on anyone who dares to sign a joke or insulting message. Slowly but surely a rusty wheelbarrow is pushed into the command center. Its pusher is a bit short to be seen at the moment. Inside the wheelbarrow is a large present with red, white, and blue coloration. "Oh Pitt I hope there's a live Quintesson inside of it like that last time in Crystal City! Ramjet knew how to throw a smelt of a party!" Fusillade snatches out hands to clutch the frilled party favor, easily half her size, and rattles it so that the Chaos God's pinchers jiggle. "Hmm, sounds... kinda like it's ticking." She shrugs, and spins smoothly on one foot, moving quickly to snag an as of yet unused garland from Motormaster's decorating pile, and begins to lash it to the rafters so it can loom over the proceedings, ready to devour any stray poles that might get used to break it open. Once satisfied, she plunks back down to the ground, and begins to sidle up to the guestbook. She flashes a smile at Banshee, and begins to doodle obscenities in the margins. Mumbling to himself, "B double E double R U N, beeeeeeeeeeer run." a gumbie helps Carnivac unload the oil barrles next to the already well stocked enerhol display (they stole it all from the Beachfront bar). "Oh, that took you a LOT less time than I thought." Backfire sighs to the Pretender, obviously still a bit grossed out by the organic/robot warriors. Nodding to Banshee, "Great job Banshee, EXCELSIOR!!" And finally when Astrotrain saunters in, the Seeker simpleton jogs merrily up to him.. clipboard still in hand. "Astro, old pal 'o mine.. where you been? I've been trying to reach you for CYCLES! Thought maybe some nasty space bugs got ahold of you, layed nasty space bug eggs in your head or something." Backfire pauses to peer at the triplechanger. "You don't have small space bugs in your head, do you?" Swindle's dashboard lights up again as he speaks, "Thanks Misfire, I sure appreciate it. Say, you wouldn't be interested in upgrading your present for our Lord and Master, now would you?" There's not much he can do right now, with a truckload of presents to be unloaded. Slugfest daintily picks up the present that has a tag on it marked "From Sluggy to Galvy" in green crayon. He hops out of Swindle's seat and lands on his little feet on the ground, prancing as he carries the present to the designated pile. The glitter reflects the light and he sparkles almost blindingly. Astrotrain says without even beating an optic, "No, but I got one on my back." He jerks a thumb back over his shoulder before he turns to one side to show. It's a giant wasp-like creature, easily half Astrotrain's height in its length from head to abdomen. Its wings buzz now and then but the silicon-based space lifeform has settled QUITE comfortably behind the triplechanger's shoulders, and between his wings. It doesn't look like it's ding anything, just clinging there where Astrotrain can't reach it...hopefully it isn't trying to mate with him. "Interesting fact." Astrotrain growls aloud, "Someody theorized that Vacuum Wasps won't follow ya through deep space trips if you disengage your radio. You know what I learned?" "THEY'RE FRAGGING IDIOTS!" Misfire lets out a grunt as he slides to where the truckload of presents are located. "Not at your prices Swindle...plus that targeting sensor you sold me two cycles ago is still updating something call 'Windows' and I think I still owe you credits on it." He lets out a grunt and he pulls out a rather large present. "What is is in here, rocks?" He proceeds to fumble the present and it hits the ground by the table with a thud. He then quickly counts his fingers before unloading another present. Giant Armored Timberwolf just gives Backfire one of his everpresent too big for its own good smiles. "You're welcome." He's well aware how much the biomechanical nature of Pretenders still creep most 'normal' transformers out. The thought of that sort of discomfort just makes him all the more giggly about staying like this. Okay, maybe he just likes how the shell gives him an even bigger mouth full of big sharp fangs to smile unnervingly like that. It is at this point that a small security camera will reveal Galvatron meandering towards the Command Center. He is taking his time and is clearly in a good mood. Subsequent cameras on the same monitor will record his passage as he continues through several levels until he is -almost- at the door outside! "Astrotrain," Motormaster says in a low, warning voice as he turns around to get more garland, "you have a bee on you. If you hold very still I can shoot it off." Banshee surrepticiously begins to creep closer and closer to her painting while she does so. While she knows it's not going to stop it, she'd feel much more comfortable with a sheet of chobbham and two sheets of rolled steel between her and any possible incoming fusion cannon blast. "Windows? You were supposed to install the Combaticon OS, Swindles! I gave you the discs. Of course, had you bought the service contract, I would have installed it myself. But don't worry, I'll send a technician over to fix that, free of charge." He's probably going to send Brawl. "Now, how about we get you an upgraded present. I have a wide range to choose from, depending on how you plan to suck up to the boss?" "Sorry partner." Backfire sighs, taking a wary step backwards. "But we have a leash law inside." Making another mark off his checklist, the Seeker spins on his heel to face Swindle and the present platoon.. when his optic catches the security feed. GALVATRON IS ALMOST HERE! "Fellow Decepticons, the time is almost upon us.. we must make haste!" Backfire announces, standing on a gumbie's shoulders for height. "Swindle, unload those present immediately! Misfire, Slugfest.. help him! Everything else will -have- to do for now. Fusillade, get everyone in position please.. and dim the lights!!" Rushing to the back of the room, Backfire begins preparations on the final touch. Misfire lets out a grunt as moves the next present. "Combaticon OS?? I tried putting that on, but it said that I needed to upgrade spark to the latest verison. Plus it was compatiable with targ*humph*et*primus,thisisheavy*master technology." He collapses on top of the package which falls next to the first. "What do you have Swindle?" He pushes himself up and trudges back towards Swindle. "My gift is from the central processor...that should be good right?" Slugfest pelts little feets running back and forth to unload the presents. "Okay, us hurry! Want Galvy be happi! This be best birfday ever!" Once he's done unloading, he starts staring at the bug on Astrotrain's back. "Eeee," he says, "No had bug spray?" Robotic Bald Eagle finally peers over his wheelbarrow at Astrotrain, frowning a bit at the space wasp. "You know, Astrotrain, sometimes Vacuum Wasps build nests on planets. Maybe... maybe there's a nest here... in America?" He looks a bit shifty-eyed for a moment. MEANWHILE, INSIDE AMERICON'S ROOM Vacuum Wasps are buzzing around madly in a great and terrifying cacophony. Americon hasn't been inside for months. Fusillade makes a face at the scrawl. "Eh, looks good enough. That's what /I'd/ do if the Autobot leader was served up to me on a silver platter." She peers quizzically at the retreating Banshee, and hmmphs. "Everyone's a critic." Snapping the book shut, she takes another long draw on the drink she already served herself, before double-taking at the screen and Backfire's announcement. "Smelt, okay, okay. Let's see, who's the most valuable... Astrotrain, Motormaster, you two go by the computer banks. "Banshee, duck behind Carnivac. And uh... oh Backfire! Stand to the side of the door and be sure to jump out to lead us in shouting "SURPRISE!" "You have to say it REAL loud," Fusillade coaches Backfire. "Don't you even -think- of pointing your gun this way!" Astrotrain points a warning finger towards Motormaster, before balking at Backfire's announcement. "Wha...hey! Get back here! I need somebody to pull this thing off of me and step on it already! Gnnnngh!" Futilely, Astrotrain tries to reach back over his own shoulder, trying to grab some part of the interstellar hive-bug that's claimed his back as its perch. "Oh for the love of...." His fingers keep grasping nothing but empty air though, and the wasp buzzes its wings in a bit of agitation, settling in even MORE firmly, which could be taken for it getting even more intimate/friendly with Astrotrain's back. "Oh geez, what's it doing? What's it DOING!? It better not be doing anything nasty!" "SHHHHHHHHH!!!!" Fusillade hisses in Astrotrain's direction. "Nonononono, Fusillade.. you'll have to do it." Backfire cat-calls from over his shoulder, messing with something out of view. "I'm far too busy with this, I don't mind though.. you can share in the GLORY!" Motormaster nods grimly and goes over to set up his special tea lights by the computer banks, sidling away from Backfire to do so. Robotic Bald Eagle mutters, "Oh, hell, it's almost time!" then immediately transforms into cassette mode, whereupon he vibrates across the floor until he's under the wheelbarrow carting his present around. Americon collapses and shrinks down into a very tiny cassette labeled, "America's Most Patriotic Hits!" Giant Armored Timberwolf could probably help. Heck, his optic beams could probably disintegrate the thing without scorching the Triplechanger... Problem is instead of doing that, he's too busy hunkering down and covering his muzzle with his forepaws to keep from laughing loudly and giving away the 'surprise'. "That's quite alright, I'm uh... loading Americon into the computer bank so we can have the party music queued up." Fusillade strides over, and begins rummaging about under the wheelbarrow. Swindle's relieved when enough of the gifts have been unloaded that he can transform into his handsome robot mode, and place the last few gifts onto the table. "Don't worry Misfire, I'll take care of your computer problems, and I'm sure that Galvatron will appreciate your new and approved gift for him." He points to one of the gifts, and produces a data pad in his free hand, "Just imprint your hand here and it'll be yours to give to Lord Galvaorn." Banshee scowls and finds herself a place close to her portrait where she can hide ready for the surprise. "Zis cannot go very vell at all..." she mutters, shaking her head as she crouches down. Snagging a stiff shot of something high-grade and small, she necks it before Galvatron enters. Misfire stares at the pad. "No,no....that is ok Swindle. No gift, no tech support." He leans closer to the Combaticon. "But...are you taking any bets on this party?" Patriotic Cassette fails his dodge roll because he is a cassette. "Noooooooo!" he exclaims as he is plucked away from his cover. Motormaster can't resist pointing and laughing at Americon. "PUNY cassette tape! Your immobile helplessness is always a delight to see!" Humvee transforms into his Swindle mode. The gumbies oblige Backfire's wishes, lowering the lights and getting into their places. An eerie glow is given off by the tea lights, not enough to really give anyone's hiding spot away.. but playing off the upper recesses of the room and giving the giant banner the proper lighting it requires. There's no way Galvatron is missing that when he saunters in. Backfire fiddles with the final touch, the clicker of his flamethrower can be heard.. lighting something aflame. A much smaller glow is playing up from the backroom, although everything is pratically undiscernable given the lighting. "Silence fools, here he comes.. now remember!" Backfire lectures from the back, "When he walks in we all start singing Happy Creation Day!" Swindle leans in, "But of course," and he types into the pad, bringing up a list of possible bets as well as the odds he's offering, "Just click on the one you want to place, and then the value." "Just hold ON a second! Stop buzzing!" Fusillade wrestles with Americon, before jamming him into the relative(?) safety of the consoles. "And um... okay, I have an idea," Fusillade says, clattering to -- and through -- the door into the hallway. Once out there, the door hisses shut behind her, and she slumps against the hallway door, feigning panic. "Lord Galvatron, the command center has been overrun! Please do not go in there! Save yourself!" Banshee mutters to Swindle, "... 250... whole... tits..." Slugfest is transfixed by the bug on Astrotrain's back and starts making little hops to try to snap at it. "Go 'way! No want stupid bug here!" the little stegosaur tape says, maybe a little too loudly. Misfire quickly eyes the pad, runs through a few quick calculations and places a small bet. He summons the credits and gives them to Swindle. He then moves into position for the suprise. It is at this point that a click is heard as Galvatron presses the open button for the door leading into the Command Center. Unfortunatly... it has been locked! There is a questioning sort of 'nyarg' from outside as he presses the button again. "Access Denied." He emits another more irritated 'nyarg' this time and is pointing his fusion cannon at the door when Fusillade comes bursting out! He stares at her a moment, wide optic'd and before he has a chance to yell WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS she informs him. "Overrun?!" He snaps. "Overrun with /WHAT/?" "Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, he'll be here any astro-sec!" Backfire chastises the room's occupants, unaware that Fusillade has thrown them under the bus. Fusillade's mouth opens to reply, but she didn't have the chance to think quite that far ahead. "I... it's... I'm speechless. AN UNSPEAKABLE HORROR! It's already gotten the guards! You saw how the hallway was empty!" Galvatron can no doubt hear a muffled crash from the big doors leading to the command center followed by a moment of silence and then... "Oh...oh slag it's GYRATING against my back isn't it!?" "SEE?! That was Astrotrain!" Fusillade hisses, trying to build the suspense to the point that Galvatron's curiosity (or rage) gets the better of him. Seeing what everyone else is up to, and having made a bet with Misfire, Swindle takes a step back, and walks around the table, where he hunkers down, leaving only his cranial unit peeking above, so that he can see. He figures that hiding behind the table of presents will be good cover in case anything does happen, and it's the least likely target. Who would destroy gifts? It's at this point that Winamp, which some enterprising Decepticon somehow managed to install on the computer mainframe, automatically identifies the songs stored within Americon's databanks, shuffles them, and then begins to play the Star Spangled Banner. In this rendition of the famous song, however, it opens with rifle and cannon fire, as if to invoke images of the American Revolution. Galvatron looks almost frantic; on the edge of an explosion really. He has absolutely fallen for this, hook line and sinker and if he had sleeves he would be rolling them up right now. "What kind of idiocy have the scientists loosed on us this time?!" He thunders. "Some sort of TENTACLE SPACE HORROR AGAIN?! I KNEW I NEVER SHOULD HAVE LET CARJACK WATCH THAT STUPID MOVIE! NYAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!" He attempts to shoulder right past her, and as the star spangled banner begins . . . his fist thunders into the closed bulkhead, leaving a Galvatron sized dent! Immediatly after the dull sound of a fusion cannon charging. whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr FRAKOOOM! And the entire bulkhead door flies in splinters and ashes into the command center as Galvatron charges in. "NYARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!" Astrotrain is the one who catches the flying bulkhead door, as it hits him dead center and keeps RIGHT on going, carrying the triplechanger through the air until his back meets the far wall. The Vacuum Wasp is reduced into a colorful rainbow-coloured burst of fluids that sprays in all directions in a beautiful and messy (and gooey) display, as Astrotrain slumps slowly to the ground, feet sticking straight up in the air. Followed by one hand raising up a moment later. "....thank...you..." Misfire glances around nervously as he hears rifles and cannon firing. He senses that it is music, but is unsure of the song significance. He tries to crouch down and gets ready to scream suprise. He gets covered with splinters and begins to cough. He manages to refrain from speaking as he hears Galvatron's battle cry. Okay, that's just too much. Despite being a giant armored half mechanical wolf Carnivac spends several minutes looking more like a hyena after Galvatron's explosive entrance of rage plasters the flailing Astrotrain, rolling over on his back and clutching all four paws against his body as he quite literally howls with laughter. "BEST PARTY ENTERTAINMENT EVERY NYAHAHAHAHAHA!" "Overrun with HAPPY CREATION DAY WISHES," Motormaster shouts as Galvatron finally bursts into the room, and triggers his special tea lights. Incendiary blasts roar out of the 'candles,' perhaps better described as 'nozzles,' and cast a lurid red light across Motormaster's hideous grin. "SurPRISE!" "Ack!" Fusillade says as she is shoved aside -- and away from the cannon muzzle. "That is a mighty punch, Lord Galvatron, and oohhhh!" she cheers as he fires. Once the ringing echo from the close-quarters percussion fades, she chirps out, "Surprise!", clapping hands. Slugfest was at mid-leap snapping at the Vacuum wasp when Astrotrain his flung backwards! He's soon pinned under the massive triple-changer, struggling and pawing his little feets. "NO CAN GET UP!" he calls out plaintively. Banshee leaps out of cover and almost entirely behind Motormaster, calling out "SURPRISE" with all the others. If Galvatron starts firing wildly? Well, she's behind someone bigger and heavier than her. Cowering behind Motormaster, Breakdown blows a little paper noisemaker with a sad *bwarp* sound. Patriotic Cassette yells "SURPRISE!" as well but he is drowned out by the national anthem. "o/~...and the home of the............. braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..." This continues for several minutes. "HUSH, WE'LL NEVER SURPRISE GALVATRON IF YOU DON'T BE QUIET!" Backfire shouts from the back of the room, turning around with the final touch. A gianormous birthday cake, heavy whipping smothered all over the cake. It's colors are metallic purples, blacks, gun metal grays, more black, more purple. Finally resting in the middle of the treat, are tiny figurines. In tiny deformed fashion, think Lilformers by Matt Moylon, Galvatron is holding hands with some other Decepticon soldiers and skipping merrily along. "SURPRISE!" Backfire shouts, before ducking reactively when the Galvcannon sounds off. "Guys, he's getting pissed.. SING THE SONG!" ~Happy Creation Day to you.. Happy Creation Day to you.. Happy Creation Day to Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalvatron.. Happy Creation Day to yoooooooooooooou!~ Backfire belts out, gumbies follow suit in almost perfect unison as the backup singer, while the Constructicons present at the moment start playing their trumpets to the beat of the birthday song. Misfire begins singing off key with Backfire. He skips some words and hums some parts, but his voice in all of its shameful glory is there. From under Astrotrain comes a 'fweeee!' noise, and a curl of paper unrolls and inflates, visible from the edge of Astrotrain's aft. After some struggling and grunting, Slugfest's head peeks out, holding the party favor in his mouth. Astrotrain is oblivious. He's in that happy land of stars and exploding colors that come from a sudden meeting with an immovable object. And he's covered in colourful pretty space-bug guts. JOY! Banshee sings along too, using her much more operatically-trained voice to actually make the song sound good. She's probably carrying the song, especially with Misfire's off-key lyrics. Galvatron rushes into the command center loaded for bear; all ready to destroy the nearest thing with all of the unicorn given strength of his. Indeed, his arm is upraised; molten fusion energy dripping from the tip of the fully charged barrel and scoring small ruddy orange holes in the deckplate. Optics are red, glaring and narrowed and a full killing rage is evident in the mad emperor's face. His battle cry is loud, angry and . . ends abruptly -- to the sounds of trumpets, singing, a sad little paper noisemaker, Fusillade's clapping, Carnivac's grating laugh and Motormaster's well wishes. The cannon stays firmly pointed at Astrotrain and his new door uniform like he had something to do with all of this. He -especially- suspects that piece of paper under Astrotrain's aft. Anyway, it kind of sounds like.... "NYARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR..........." Galvatron stands mutely, staring, the fully charged cannon still pointed at Astrotrain. Clearly, he literally does not know how to react to this. Someone has finally managed to overload his decision circuits and he kind of stands there, mutely, still aiming except he adds... " . . . what?" Swindle, having never attended a Creation Day party, isn't really sure what to make of this, but from his vantage point behind the gifts, he comments aloud to no one in particular, "The trumpeting Constructicons were a good choice. He doesn't sing along, since he doesn't think his voice would lend anything to it, but he does mouth the words. Misfire glances towards Banshee and gives the fellow aero-space officer a slight nod as he continues to sing badly. He can't really see her, but that doesn't seem to matter. In a slight pause he speaks in a hush tone into his comlink. "Aimless, double the bail-reapir money...." His comlink buzzes with a quick, "Slag off Misfire. I'm sleeping." Misfire sighs as he continues to sing the song. "o/~ ...aaaaaaaaaaaa--HHRRRKKK!" As it so happens, this version of the Star Spangled Banner also features a rendition from an unfortunate singer who died while delivering that final high note. They didn't change anything, though, out of "respect" for the singer and because she was doing really well up until the point where she died. Even in tape mode, however, Americon can see that Galvatron is teetering on the brink of a massacre or no massacre, so he attempts to play a soothing song. That song, of course, is "Always." "Wait a minute, this song isn't even American!" Americon says. "We wanted to show you our loyalty and devotion to the eternal cause, My Liege," Motormaster explains as the flamethrower tea lights die down. "To do so in the form of a party was Backfire's idea." Giant Armored Timberwolf pauses, looking up. Sees Galvatron's stunned expression. And keels over laughing all over again. "What nothing, c'mon in and get some drinks," Fusillade says as she paces in alongside Galvatron. "From what I can tell, pretty much everyone here decided to refrain from keeping their ill-gotten gains this past week in order to provide you with personalized tokens of admiration. Respect. Fear, in some cases." Banshee decides to deflect Galvatron before he can actually get really angry, or at least attempt to do so. She grabs her big, flat parcel and presents it to Galvatron. "Ein Geschenk zum Geburtstag! A present for your creation day, Kommandant Galvatron." She brandishes the present at her liege, nodding in agreement with Motormaster. "Ja. Vot he said." "Lord of Destruction, Sultan of Sin, Emperor of Evil, GLORIOUS God of gangreen!" Backfire shouts in his presence, jutting the cake forward. "HAPPY CREATION DAY!" Nodding along with Motormaster's and Fusillade's words, the Seeker smiles wide. "We have all given up from our own rations, to celebrate your existence mi'lord!" Astrotrain just twitches once or twice where he lays. He'll be fine when he wakes up. And no doubt queasy as he sees the new coating of 'paint' he's acquired. Swindle finally rises to his feet, now that he feels relatively secure, though he does have a personal forcefield in effect, "That's right Lord Galvatron, this is the 27th anniversary of the day that you were created. And, we brought gifts." He holds up, or tries to, but when it proves to heavy, he shows it off like Vanna White might, "And it's too heavy for me to even lift." Motormaster produces a large, irregularly shaped package and holds it up as well. "I also brought you tribute, My Liege. Many of us have some trophy or prize we picked out for you to demonstrate our loyalty." It is so easy to be Galvatron most of the time. As pointed out, you massacre anything that you do not otherwise know how to react to. It's the easiest way and generally gives the answer that would be the correct one anyway! Then you get situations like this thrown at you. Slowly, listening primarily to Fusillade and Banshee the arm mounted weapon is lowered and the charge dissipitates; bleeding off into a little puff of waste radiation that barely registers on a geiger counter. He's still twitching faintly, as he accepts the parcel that Banshee has given him more by reflex action than anything else. "I see." He says, and then shakes his head as though to clear it while his brain reasserts dominance over itself. He reaches up to close his jaw and the evil narrow of his optics seems to have gone to something a little safer as the Decepticons all work togeather to pad his ego. Yes, their padding has been sufficient and a massacre has been averted . . for now at least. " . . . who's doing is this?" He demands. "Did -everyone- here plan this, or was there one that stands above and beyond the call of duty?" Banshee's present is still held under his left arm. Then Always strikes. He visibly begins to twitch again, and a slow leak of purple energy shows in his cannon once again. Massacre perhaps not yet averted. Misfire scambles over to the table and picks up his gift. He stumbles over Swindle's vast array of gifts and lets out a curse. He finally manages to pick up his gift and proceeds to form in the back of the line of Decepticon Giftgivers. He clutches the small gift close to his chest plate. "OOF! UNF! OFF!" Slugfest grunts. He finally manages to squeeze out from under Astrotrain. The impact of the Triple Changer has knocked loose some of the caked-on glitter, and a bunch of it settles into his nasal sensors. "Ahhh...ahhhhh...ahhhhhh......ATCHOO!" "It was my doing, Lord Galvatron." Backfire shoulders past some other gumbies.. Intentionally putting his shoulder into them and stepping forward. Along the way, the Seeker simpleton sets the gigantic cake down on a table. Giant smile on his face again, no doubt about to be rewarded for the wonderful party and exceptional idea. "In admitting as much, my intention is to not diminish -their- participation though." he bows low, an arm over his chest and the other stretched out to the side. ... Carnivac stops laughing as Always plays, turning into a whine as he covers his head with his paws. "Augh, this music sucks! Someone shut that thing off!" Banshee makes as if to nudge Galvatron, but thinks otherwise. "Unwrap it, ja? THat's the point of a pres-" When Always begins to play, Banshee notices the bleed of purple energy and, barely looking, draws her pistol and puts a hole in the nearest speaker. It should convince Americon to stop playing - especially when that pistol is then aimed at the console he's plugged into. There's the easy way - go switch it off - and the Decepticon way. Shoot it. "o/~ Make me believe in y--FZT!!!" And so one ends one of the gayest songs ever. Well. Not that being gay is bad or anything. It's your life. Uh. "Americon, eject!" Americon cries, popping out of the mainframe. "Operation: Brown-nosing!" He transforms in the air into robot mode, and begins pushing the wheelbarrow--which contains a present with America-styled wrapping--towards Galvatron. "Uh, yes, we're presenting, um, you know, things. If you're mad, uh, Backfire basically tricked us into going along with it and we totally swear it's all his fault." Galvatron stands mute a moment; present clutched under his left arm while Banshee attempts to threaten Americon. "Well, then . . " He says to Backfire in a perfectly calm voice. "It seems that you have done an excellent job organizing all of this, there is only one thing that this 'party' lacks!" There is a cruel smile to his lips and a cheerful glint in his optics. Yes, Galvatron is actually smiling. "Entertainment!" He raises his right arm. "WHICH I WILL BE HAPPY TO PROVIDE." A massive fusion cannon blast is loosed from his right arm directly for Backfire's center of mass, radiation and light flooding the room in the aftermath of the tremendous burst of power. "A little pain and suffering will brighten everyone's day! And now . . ." He draws out an energon blade . . . "Cake for everyone!" He cuts the cake! But does he make a wish? Yes! Galvatron understands tradition. But what is his wish? It will be a secret, forever! "Come and get it!" Them, half turning away he begins to tear at the wrapping paper of Banshee's parcel. Ah, now Galvatron is feeling better. "Fusillade!" He calls. "This was a /brilliant/ idea. He even smiles at Motormaster!" Combat: Galvatron strikes Backfire with his Fusion Cannon attack! Combat: Galvatron (Galvatron) used "Fusion Cannon": A Level 13 AREA-RANGED attack. Combat: Backfire falls to the ground, unconscious. Exactly five minutes after Galvatron makes his entrance, two Seekers open the doors to the Command Centre, and suddenly brighten the room as a trio of Seacons step forward with their fuchsia, cyan, grey, violet, grey, and black paint applications. In front of each is a cart filled with energon cubes, piled high and neatly stacked. The lead one, Seawing, parks it to the side, then comes Nautilator, who seems to have little control over the cart, swinging a bit left and right. He finally manages to park it without toppling over either cart, and then comes Skalor. The last Seacon leaves a trail of slime all over Backfire's nice clean floor, but he carts in a load of energon cubes, so maybe just this once he can be excused. Seawing steps forward, and pulls out a datapad, "Lord Galvatron, Field Commander Snaptrap wished for us to convey his regrets on not being able to attend, however, he sends the spoils of the Undersea Base and assures you that his absence will meet with your satisfaction shortly." With that, the three will enjoy an energon beverage, and disappear back to the depths from whence they came. Momentarily caught off guard and busy unwrapping Banshee's gift, he is interrupted by the arrival of the seacons! " . . . accepted." He says, and then points at the stack of cubes. "Very well, Decepticons! Eat, drink, and at Backfire's expense . . be merry. JUST THIS ONCE." Fusillade's mouth pops open, and she claps it shut again. "Urm, yes sir." She rubs the back of her helmet, still trying to quickly think up an impromptu present. "It looks like Banshee... MADE a present for you. Something from nothing." She bites back a sassy retort at Galvatron's mention of 'just this once', and busies herself making a mixed drink containing the amber glitter of avgas. A cloud of purple-silver glitter is projected in front of Slugfest as he sneezes. This cloud may or may not settle all over everything. Possibly even the cake. Ew, stego-germs, no returns! "CAKE?!" the little stegosaur tape cries, rushing towards the offered foods. Misfire watches with a bemused look as Galvatron slags Backfire. He remains still as Galvatron proclaims Party Time. If attending School 5,000 times taught him anything, it is go with the flow. He waits for the other cons to go for cake. "Oh look, Galvatron is making his own fireworks!" Carnivac cackles at the cannoning, before joining in for the cake and ener-drinks. Whooowhooo! Though a bit sloppily, as instead of bothering to transform he sets the plate on the floor and noisely.... well.... -wolfs- it down. "Get up, you," Motormaster helpfully grunts, kicking Backfire. "You'll miss the festivities!" He shoves a gumby and its puny gumby-present aside and presents his gift to Galvatron. "I brought you a piece of Iacon's original Stellar Gallery which I found in the wreckage of Iahex, My Liege. After heating it in a caldera in Iceland, I beat it into the shape of our regal symbol with my bare hands!" Sure enough, the distinctive orange metal is (crudely) battered into the shape of a Decepticon symbol and defaced with purple paint to bring out the shape. Banshee cheers and waits while Galvatron unwraps her present, tactfully ignoring the galvcannoning of Backfire. The present contains the result of more than a month of continuous painting in her free time for Banshee. It's a portrait of him standing triumphant while behind him is the burning wreckage of Autobot City and the broken-open form of Metroplex' robot mode, and behind /that/, rendered in powdered amethyst and silver leaf, is the Decepticon crest, with herself and Fusillade, in altmodes, above the city, obviously harassing the residents within. "I painted zis myself." She says, proudly. Swindle slips from his space behind the table of gifts, and heads for the lump of steel that is Backfire. He pops open a compartment in his hip, and draws out a number of tools, which he uses to open up the chest of Backfire, "Oh, this does not look good. Lord Galvatron got you good." A little louder, he comments, "An excellent shot sir, the damage is extensive." He offers a thumbs up, and then uses some tweezers like tools to manipulate some of the electronics in Backfire's chest, removing a piece and tinkering with it before reinstalling it. "Ah, I'm soooooo delighted that your pleased Lord Galva..ACK!" Backfire cracks up, receiving the full on Galvcannon to the chest. The delightful fusion energy crackles in his chest cavity.. building up and popping his head right off! Head Sailing through the air, the Seeker's body collapses down to the floor.. a smoking frame. His hand twitches sporadically, fingers tapping on the ground in morse code. TAP TAP TAP TAP. His head however, has landed on the birthday cake.. and is strangely concious! "Gah, Lord Galvatron!" Patriotic Cassette transforms into eagle mode, then, and pulls away the wrapping from his present. It is... country music singer Darryl Worley!?!?! "It's Darryl Worley!" Americon says with a big eagle grin. "And enough crackers and water to keep him alive for one hundred and fifty days!" Darryl sits up from within his metal cage, and groggily wonders aloud, "I... where am I?... Am I dreaming?..." Giant Armored Timberwolf drawls, "Geez Backfire, getting Starscreamed is nothing to," pause, "Lose your head over." Then starts giggling a bit as he helps himself to gulping down one of the barrels of oil. Banshee throws something heavy at the back of Carnivac's head Galvatron unwraps the present from Banshee; opening it up to reveal the painting within. He seems oddly surprised at the are that has been put into it. The same with Motormaster's gift. "Fusillade." He says. "What do -you- have for me?" Fortunatly, he is distracted by Backfire, and reaches down to pick up the head. He tosses it to himself, tucking it beneath his arm. "Let me know when the body is ready for the head!" Apparently, he is going to keep Backfire close to hand for this. "Those are . . . appreciated." He says to Motormaster and Banshee; apparently actually meaning it too. Perhaps he is suddenly conscious of the fact that he is not only feared, but liked, and it hasn't yet gone to his head! Nimbly then, he attempts to save the cake from Slugfest and goes so far as to hand the tape his own piece of it. He then sets Backfire's head down on a table, fills a 'glass' of energon, and then uses said head as a coaster. Fusillade recoils from Galvatron's scrutiny. "Psst, Banshee," Fusillade says. "I gotta step out for something real quick. If he gets through with all the presents before I'm back, don't let him forget about the Unicron thingie there. Be sure to make it swing and bounce around. And everyone is supposed to be blinded before they try to hit it." She ducks out through the doorway! Making a mental command to nod, Backfire remembers he doesn't have a neck.. or body at the moment. Some green energon spurts from the connections instead. "Yes yes, very well done.. could use a certain orange Seeker back there too.." he laughs towards Banshee's painting. Backfire's head balances the drink all the while as well, he has AMAZING balance! Swindle having made some emergency repairs to Backfire's body, now looks up to note the missing head, and gets up, wandering over to Galvatron, "Uh, Lord Galvatron, if you still want me to repair Backfire, would you mind . . . " Oh, there is no easy way to ask for a spare head. This wasn't covered in the war manuals. Slugfest is halfway through a slice of cake, nomnomnoming rapidly, when he remembers something. "Oh! Pressie!" he says, and runs to the gift pile. His mouth is still covered in energon frosting when he picks his gift up. He trots over to Galvatron and deposits the gift at his feet. "Mine is best present ever!" he says proudly, like a 6 year old that has just given his mother a clay pencil holder he made at school. And that's exactly what's inside the box! Motormaster beams at the other Decepticons. Galvatron liked his present! As usual Motormaster is competitive even about birthday presents. "It is an honor to serve such a powerful and ruthless Lord," Motormaster replies. "Hail Galvatron!" Having finished his drink, Carnivac wanders out of the command center for a few minutes. Considering everyone else is handing out their presents at the moment? Yeah, no good can come of this... Banshee is obviously greatly pleased by Galvatron's use of Backfire's head, nodding to Fusillade. "Ja." She replies, quietly. She seems also pleased by Galvatron's reaction, beaming back at Motormaster, and everyone else. She gets herself a large measure of brandygon, adding to it a small jot of gasoline. Sipping quietly, she watches the party, and munches some cake. "Nice metal work!" Backfire comments about Motormaster's Decepticon insignia. "Oooooooo, umm.. what is that?" the Seeker inquires about Slugfest's gift.. keeping perfect hold of Galvatron's drink on top of his head. Misfire slowly inches his way towards Galvatron and proceeds to lift his poorly wrapped gift off his chest and hands it towards Galvatron. "Uh, Lord Galvatron..." He collects himself and begins to speak again. "Since the Decepticon Military College blew up and I was the, uh, last graduate." He pushes his gift closer to Galvatron. "I got you and honorary degree and a commission as the College's Headmaster." He stands there holding the gift out fully towards Galvatron. He glances down at Slugfest and give the tapbot a slight grin. "Got another one of those, Misfire?" Backfire's disembodied head asks him of the diploma, his chatter finally spilling some of the drink over his helm.. which drip drops onto his face. On closure inspection it looks like the word Honorary was scribbled in the corner and whiteout over the name which Galvatron is written over. Also it looks like it was made on cheap copy paper. Misfire clears his vocal box, "I commissioned a replica to be made." Slugfest eees! "School has squishy nebulan dude?" Galvatron is oblivious to his spilling drink, the buffoon clearly not even able to manage a coaster right! "Just repair the body." Galvatron says to Swindle. "Backfire's head is proving useful to me in other ways, this time!" He rescues his drink when Slugfest nearly knocks it down in his haste to bring him a gift! " . . . . . . wonderful." Galvatron says to him. He then takes the pencil holder and places it on Backfire's flat top, and then, finally, he sees what Americon has brought him. He bends; picking up the cage and holding it, rocking it back and forth from side to side. He promptly sets it on the table next to Backfire's head and all of his other 'gifts' from today. "But does it -SING-?" He asks Americon. He taptaps on the bars experimentally, making bird sounds. Then he grows bored of Darryl for the moment and has a long, long swig of his energon -- tossing the glass over his shoulder where a breaking sound is heard. On to the next thing! " . . . equally wonderful." He says, still holding the paper. This one is going to be re-gifted. Swindle nods to Lord Galvatron, and takes another look at Backfire's body before walking over towards Misfire and says, "Misfire, I have a proposition for Aimless . . ." Americon smiles awkwardly as Galvatron treats Darryl basically like a parakeet. "Well, yes sir, yes he does." He then turns towards Darryl, glares at him sternly, "hands" (wings?) him a piece of paper, then growls, "Sing, dammit!" at the country star. Darryl blinks, confused as he stares at the paper, but finally gets the idea. "Uhhh," Darryl begins, "...Galvatron, he kills all the Autobots, woah-ho, kills them all dead in Ameeerrrricaaaa.... And especially Rodimus Prime, he kills that guy TEN TIMES OVER, and that's why the Autobots suck, in Ameeeerrrricaaaa...." Misfire moves away from Galvatron and lets out a sigh of relief. He gives Swindle a slight nod and sends a short transmission through his intercom. He tilts his head towards Swindle. "A message or speak in person?" Banshee selects an appropriate party tune on the random sound system and then enjoys the party, yamming on her piece of cake quite happily - all the more amused by the use of Backfire's head as a coaster, and table. She lights herself an enercig and giggles quietly at the country singer, relaxing in her chair and just watching the carnage, waiting for the present stack to be finished with - so she can remind about the pinata Swindle says, while holding his hands on the shoulders of Backfire's headless body, "In person, it's always better to discuss these kinds of things in person." Misfire gives Swindle a slight nod. He types on his intercom again. He gives the person on the otherend, the Decepticon version of all clear. After a brief moment, Aimless slips into the Command Center. Of course he doesn't have a gift and might be drunk. Aimless saunters over towards Swindle. "Swindle, how is business?" Giant Armored Timberwolf finally returns to the Command Center, carrying a wrapped bundle in his mouth and trying not to drool on it -too- much. Fortunately it's lubricant-proof wrapping paper. He trots over to Galvatron in much the same manner as hunting dog would return with a fresh kill.... nevermind the canine doing so is the size of a large truck himself. "Your present, m'lord," he growls out between his teeth. "A human!" Backfire gleefully smiles at Americon's present, smiling from audio receptor to audio receptor. When the drink is replaced by uhh.. the uhh.. thing Slugfest made, Backfire arches his brow a bit. "Lord Galvatron, are you elated to see -my- gift??" Swindle whispers to Misfire and Aimless, "We all know that your uh, partnership, hasn't gone quite as planned. But I have the solution. Aimless, you've already undergone the targetmaster process, which should make the headmaster process so much easier. I just happen to have a spare body that's missing a head. That's right, how would you, Aimless, like to become you're very own headmaster?" Banshee giggles quietly to herself at Carnivac and nudges a Gumbie themed after the Eurofighter, hoping he understands german. Pointing at Carnivac, she comments "Galvatron's Jagdhund" Which means, of course, Galvatron's hunting dog. Slugfest yays when Galvatron opens his present, wagging his lil tail. then he returns to his half-finished slice of cake! OM NOM NOM NOM NOM NOM Banshee calls out to Slugfest "Hey, Sluggy- you eating zat or vearing it?" Aimless gives Swindle a sly grin. "Hrm....that does sound like an interesting offer." He ponders for a moment. "Now, legally speaking, would I have full access to Backfire Galvatron frowns at Darryl, leaning forward to peer at the human in the cage. He picks it up again, shaking it a little from side to side. "I think you brought me a defective music device, Americon! It is off key! The music is /excellent/ but surely it can do better than that if it wants me to remember to feed it?" He places Darryl down in front of Backfire's face for the moment as Carnivac enters. " . . . ugh." Delicately, Galvatron takes it from him with thumb and forefinger, tearing it open -very- carefully. "In a moment, Backfire!" He wants to see what Carnivac has for him first! Backfire’s head makes a pouty face. Aimless gives Swindle a sly grin. "Hrm....that does sound like an interesting offer." He ponders for a moment. "Now, legally speaking, would I have full access to Backfire's "privledge's?" Misfire just watches. "Aimless...." He intones coldly. "Lord Galvatron told me to /just repair the body/." He doesn't actually answer Aimless' question, but makes sure that he's nice and in the clear. "You're a head, it's a body, do you want it or not? There are plenty of other targetmasters that I'm sure would love this fine quality Decepticon craftsmanship, and even a few headmasters, like the animal headmasters . . ." Banshee coughs "Er, Herr Galvatron... do you plan for Backfire to be able to /use/ his body, mein kommandant?" Galvatron looks over his shoulder. "What are you nattering about now, Banshee?" Americon nods eagerly up at Galvatron. "Oh, yes, oh yes, um, I'll get some better songs for him to sing, I swear, boss!" He glares over at Darryl. "And you better start practicing more, buddy! Galvatron demands the FINEST in American entertainment!" "But I--" Darryl says. "You can't just keep me locked up in a cage like this, like a songbird!" "Actually, yes we can," Americon says. "And we are. So. Uh. Work on those high notes, okay?" At first the present is what you might expect from someone a bit.. ah.. defective in the head. Seeing as it is a rather large knife. Unfortunately, the blade appears to be a bit rusty. It would almost seem like a strange, defective thing to give as a gift. Until one remembers that when you stab something with it, that rust is going to flake off and farther aggrivate any wounds made in an Autobot with it. Maybe not the best thing for combat, but it'll make a wonderful torture device. Maybe he's not as insane as he seems.. Though you'd be hard pressed to tell by the manic grin still crossing the Pretenders maw. "Your cannon, wonderful at making quick and dead... That's for when you want their suffering to be -slow and aganizing-." And then he starts giggling again. Aimless rubs his jaw for a moment. The gears are turning in his head. "So, how long are we talking?" Misfire glances back and forth. While he might be happy to rid of Aimless, he concerned about losing his only real weapon. What good is a warrior without a weapon. "Aimless..." Aimless waves a hand at Misfire. Aimless turns to Swindle. "Are you sure he is compatiable?" Banshee shrugs and motions to Swindle. "Much as Herr Backfire... confuses me, mein kommandant... I have no vish for his body to be raped so." Americon gasps as Banshee mentions a family-unfriendly word. Darryl looks perhaps even more horrified. Galvatron wields the knife in a dangerous way, poking at the bars of the cage and menacing Darryl with the huge rusty thing absent mindedly before setting it on the table beside Backfire's head. "I will use this on Rodimus!" He says with a promise in his tone. " . . . did you drool on that to rust it yourself?" There is a sudden look of revulsion in his eyes, and then of pleasure when he realizes he can hit Rodimus with something he hates even MORE. Galvatron clearly hasn't been paying attention to Misfire or Swindle at all. "Banshee, what ARE you talking about?" He wants to know, as he reaches for Backfire's head again. "Very well. What do you have for me?" Aimless turns to Banshee. "Such harsh language for such a beautiful process...." Swindle turns, looking at Banshee and Galvatron, then to Aimless and Misfire, "Sorry, looks like you might have missed your shot at getting your own body. Looks like you've been betrayed by a sucker of a stuka." He leaves the body standing next to the pair, and quietly makes a bee line for the door. Banshee replies, coldly, to Aimless. "It is only beautiful ven it is vith permission of /all/ involved. Including ze owner of ze body." Aimless shrugs at Banshee. "I don't remember anyone really asking me...Besides, it wouldn't be like that. I mean really, what it is really...." His voice trails off as he watches Swindle walk out. He lets out a whistle and starts to slip out behind Swindle. Misfire continues to stand there and offers Banshee an apologetic shrug. Banshee gives Misfire a slight glare, as if reminding him that he should control his firearm, before returning her attention to the party. Slugfest is still stuffing his face full of delicious cake. He's oblivious to all going on around him. Backfire's head is snatched up, while a gumbie attendant (having recieved the 'signal) pads up to Galvatron's side. "Attention! ATTENTION!" Backfire's head announces to the Decepticons present. "SILENCE, I have a -very- important gift to give our beloved Lord Galvatron!" The gumbie walks over to the light controls and dims them. From the ceiling comes a giant telescreen, and before it a projector. "Happy Creation Day!" he smiles wide. What follows is a mish-mash of rough footage and still photos, all of Megatron and the deceased Starscream. Raiding a hydro turbine plant, myriad of boring hand-in-hand shots, the assault on Autobot City, some 'junk' being tossed out of Astrotrain, and finally Galvatron at the coronation. What's strange about these images is twofold. One: Starscream's face is covered by the same large crude image of Backfire's face (which is the same? Considering they're both flattops) and orange/brown crayon scribbled over his body. Two: The music accompanying the feature film. ~People let me tell you 'bout my best friend, He's a warm hearted leader who'll love me till the end. People let me tell you bout my best friend, He's a one mech army, my up, my down, my liege and family. People let me tell you 'bout him he's so much fun! Whether we're talkin' mech to mech or whether we're talking Con to Con. Cause he's my best friend. Yes he's my best friend.~ As the music fades away, the film ends with a still screen of Galvatron and the photoshopped Backfire shoulder to shoulder, with the words 'BESTEST FRIENDS' written sloppily over the image. "Beautiful, is it not?" the Backfire head asks, optics wincing all fake like.. as if he were crying. Misfire hangs his head slightly under Banshee's glare. Easy for her to chastise him, her *gun* doesn't talk back, or steal her credits. Misfire then turns and moves to the cake. "So cake, huh..." Galvatron just stares. Stock still, mute and immobile. His mouth in fact, is half open. He is as motionless as stone. "SPEECHLESS!" Backfire cackles, wriggling around in Galvatron's grasp. Banshee watches the show quietly, blink-blinking. She's too awed to remember to speak English. "Backfire ... was zum Teufel war das? Wollen Sie sterben? Bist du verruckt?" Slowly, carefully, Galvatron steps away from the table once the video is concluded. There is no sign of rage from him at all; no apparent discontentment, no murderous fusion cannon blasts. He simply adjusts his grip so that his hand is over Backfire's face so that the seeker-head cannot see where he is going. With more and more purpose, Galvatron's strides lead him to the opposite end of the command center, where his other arm opens a metallic cupboard with a chute in it. Unceremoniously, he promptly dumps the head down said chute and bangs the cupboard closed, and then stomps out of the command center; good mood apparently gone. Oh, yes. The cupboard? It is marked with bold red letters. GARBAGE DISPOSAL Misfire drops his cake as he stares at the video and hears the song. He glances over at Banshee. "Sure it wouldn't have been an improvement..." Backfire's head clanks off the side of the walls, all the way down the garbage chute. "Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" Darryl yelps as the huge rusty knife comes at him, backing away from the knife and pressing himself up against the other end of the cage. "I'll... I'll work on my singing, I swear!" Disappointed by Darryl's performance thus far, and noting how "epic" Backfire's present so obviously is, Americon shakes his head sadly. "Damn, I knew I should have gotten Galvatron a different pet! But the only other option I had was..." He finishes his sentence quietly. "...the *vacuum wasps.*" MEANWHILE, IN FRONT OF AMERICON'S ROOM A gumby Seeker is pounding angrily at Americon's door, yelling, "Dammit, you little pest, knock it off with all the buzzing! Primus, what the hell has been going on in there for the past few months? OPEN UP!" There is no response, so the Seeker growls with frustration, and finally says, "Okay, that's it, you asked for it!" And he kicks the door in... and then freezes in horror! "No... no... NOOOOOO!" And then, something zooms straight at his face, like something out of an Evil Dead movie! "NOOO--"
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