Tailgate glares as hard as he can at Steeltread, from across the room. Nightbeat has just left after getting his stomach pumped, and Punch is viewing several monitor screens, stroking his chin. "So..." he mutters to anyone in earshot, which sadly happens to be Tailgate. "Nightbeat's alibi becomes slightly more convincing. Perhaps it was the Syk dealers who set him up..." Tailgate gets distracted by Punch. "Huh? What sick dealers? Those 'appliance shop' guys? Thinly veiled fronts for robot bondage is what they are. Sick, sick, sick!" NINE MILLION YEARS AGO: NOW: "Did someone say...AUTOBOTS!?"