| abstract | - WARNING! This TP contains disturbing and violent imagery! Synopsis: A handful of Transformers uncover the UTLIMATE HORROR somewhere in deep space... A pleasant looking world, a lush green paradise throughout, with sparkling blue oceans. It looks like a very nice planet to live on. Still, its moon seems perilously close to the planet. That's rather odd. YOU DON'T REMEMBER HOW YOU GOT HERE! ...actually, no. Only Groove doesn't remember. And that is because he is currently lying underneath one of the consoles of whatever Primus-forsaken shuttle the Autobots have sent on this mission clutching his head as he wakes up. "Ooooh man!" he cries out blearily. Meanwhile, Americon is flying a corresponding Decepticon shuttle, somehow maneuvering it with a steering wheel, whistling happily. Wait a minute, Americon doesn't know how to fly a shuttle! OH NO Ramjet transforms! His arms fold into his chest cavity as his legs fuse together to allow his thruster housings to slide snug against his chassis. Wings link together and lock into place as his cockpit twists into position. Americon undergoes a patriotic transformation into his All-American robot mode! Reinforced White F-15 Eagle flies on the flank of Americon's Made-In-America shuttle. He really should've went Japanese. Thrust is holding on to the sides of the Made-In-America shuttle and praying for dear life. "Ramjet... I need to talk with you... later!" Reinforced White F-15 Eagle snorts from his transmitter, "Enough talking! More conquering alien lifeforms!" Discord is sitting in the shuttle with Americon, utterly unaware the little patriot doesn't know how to fly. He waits to find out where they are going patiently. Groove clambers out of his space in the shuttle, and looks about. Oh. It doesn't seem anyone else is there. That doesn't look space. He scratches his head and reaches for a small device. Is it some amazing life saving machinery?" Oooh yeah!" he mutters, taking a puff Groove strikes Groove with its Ooooh maaaan attack. Powerglide sits straight up in his seat in the shuttle, an empty energon cube falling off his chest. "Woah, uh..what happened?" He takes a look around and automatically decides that this is Groove's fault. Americon grins back at Thrust as the shuttle begins a perilously steep descent towards the planet below. "Don't worry, guys! I just need to hit the auto-pilot and this thing will land itself." He looks around at the console, and frowns. "Huh. Which one is the auto-pilot? None of these buttons are labeled. Ah well, I'll just press a few and see what happens." So he hops onto the control console and walks all over the buttons, and the ship computer announces, "Hyper-Boosters, activated. Warning. Speeds exceeding safe values for re-entry. Control system, locked out. Rear hatch, opening." As the computer continues to rattle off the things Americon did to it, the back hatch suddenly pops open, and all the air in the compartment is ripped right out. "Weeeee!" Americon cries as he is sucked outside. Groove staggers about, a puff of smoking spilling out from his mouth and floating towards Powerglide as he collapses onto a gigantic red button. "Defensor meeeerge!" he moans Suddenly, the shuttle rockets past the white F-15 and Americon comes tumbling out of its engine trail. In the span of seconds, two seperate actions occur. The first, the opening of Ramjet's canopy. The second, one hell of a tight barrel-roll (second only to Thrust!) to spin Ramjet into Americon's path -- and catch him within his cockpit. Groove strikes Powerglide with its Ooooh maaaan attack. Ramjet succeeds in grasping Americon, throwing him off-balance. An image of Ramjet's face appears on-screen within the F-15's cockpit. "Close the canopy," he advises Americon. Americon smiles happily as he nods and reaches up to pull the canopy down. "Wow, that was a close one, Ramjet! Those shuttles are very badly designed! I had no idea what did anything! I hope Thrust and that other guy make it out ok! Hm, I THINK I remembered to unlock the hatches to the escape pods... Not sure..." Powerglide has only managed to stand up when he's 'assaulted' by Groove. "Uggh, what /is/ that? It spells like Beachcomber's room." The smoke curls around his face for a few minutes before dispelling and sending the red minibot onto the floor. Discord watches Americon go flying out, looking at the control panel, then back in the direction Americon departed. "That is against Decepticon Law 234.2..." He looks back at where the shuttle is heading, "F*ck" Discord makes a note to check if any superior officers heard him, so he may be disciplined for inappropriate language at a later date. Meanwhile he does the only thing he can and latches onto the nearest thing capable of flight. Which would be Thrust. As Groove hits the button, which seems to be the "emergency fuel eject" button, the shuttle rocks violently and hurtles directly towards the ground where it explodes in a gigantic blazing fireball. A few minutes later, Groove staggers out, perfectly fine, just with a bit of soot dusted over his face. "Uuuuh is there a fridge anywhere?" "They'll live," Ramjet's image mutters. As the smoked grey canopy slides down, its latch locks into place to secure Americon within it. No seatbelt extrudes out to keep Americon from being jostled -- Decepticons sneer in the face of 'proper safety.' The flight-stick moves gently as Ramjet levels off to fly forward in a straight line. "Well?" he asks Americon. "You claimed leadership of this run. Where to, Americon?" Powerglide rolls out of the wreckage, both of his wing tips set aflame and smoldering. Yet, for some reason, he doesn't really care. "So, like, where are we? Is this Monacus? It looks different, I think..?" The Protectobot will discover that not only did he crash land, he crashlanded in the middle of some sort of cheery looking settlement. Fortunately, due to the shuttle's new anti-collateral damage technology, innocent bystanders were gently brushed away to safety via forcefields. Speaking of the locals, they look... odd. Kinda like humans, but with animal-like features. Everywhere the Autobots can see, there are dog people, cat people, lion people, tiger people, liger people, bird people, even elephant people, and a whole host of others. They chatter to each other about the newcomers. Thrust follows after Ramjet with a grin, "Yes, Americon... Partner... where to? You lead this mission, as said by Ramjet. I suppose you have a plan?" Reinforced White F-15 Eagle 's image snorts. "One would hope..." Groove staggers towards the inhabitants. "Hey uh, we come in peace!" he mutters unconvincingly as he looks about, heading to the nearest chemists. "And like, stop humping my leg lil' Sweep-Cub dude!" he mumbles at a little furry dressed as a sweep cub squealing "mew-mew-mew" Americon frowns as he pulls out a tracking device. "The signal is originating, and is continuing to originate from, uh..." He points off into the distance. "It's that a way! As for my plan..." He smirks as he dons a pair of sunglasses, a habit he learned when he was human. "We will find this person and demand tribute from him in exchange for his life! Then we will kill him anyway, IN AMERICA!" Powerglide stumbles around behind Groove, jumpy and nervous at the freaks that surrounded them on either side. "This is messed up. This is /really/ messed up. This is almost 'sham marriage' level of messed up." At the sight of the Sweepcub, he pulls his pistol out, "OH GOD, GROOVE, WATCH OUT!" "That's the spirit," the image of Ramjet mutters. "Now. Keep your thighs away from my flight-stick!" He declares as the protruding control veers sharply to the right, commanding the well-armed fighter to dip its wing. The White Devil curves into a sharp veer before leveling off to make the approach to the cheery-looking settlement. Next to the display showing Ramjet's face, a radar suddenly shows multiple blips. "Lifesigns detected. Organic... and Autobot. Hnnh." The Reinforced F-15 cuts its engines down immensely, slowing its speed as it begins to lower. Landing gears slide out of compartments and lock into place. "Coming in for a landing..." Ramjet advises Americon. As the ground comes up, the earth skids against rubber tires. It elicits a squeak, screech, and a loud screech as Ramjet comes to a halt. "Out," he tells Americon as his canopy flips open. The Decepticon shuttle that Americon had been piloting continues on its course until it flies right into a small village. Decepticon Shuttles, unfortunately, are not armed with Anti-Collateral Damage technology, and so the entire settlement goes up in a huge explosion. ...This is not the same place Powerglide and Groove are at, though. Though they can probably see it from here. A tall-necked giraffe person squints over the horizon at the destroyed town and says, "Oh, Gosh! Huffywuffleguss Town's been destroyed! Darn." There's a few "Awwws" from the other Furries. The Sweep Cub-looking Furry, on the other hand, is too fixated on trying to paw at Groove. It extends its claws and starts to snap its jaws. What? Thrust tsks, "Spirit, Ramjet? I got SPIRIT FINGERS!" He wiggles his digits and grins, "I lost my precious jazz hands but at least I have these now. What do you have?" Americon stares at the face of Ramjet on the control panel. "I dunno, it's kinda comfy in here! Is it ok if I just hang out in here while you do stuff?" Groove pulls out his gun too and with one shot, blows a hole in the sweepcub's head. "Oooh this is a heavy dream!" he gasps out, leaping through the glass window of the chemists which shatters, giving him time to get behind the counter and pack a hessian sack full of medication. "Uuuuh do you think I'll be able to fly too?" "Two air-to-air, air-to-ground hybrid cluster missiles and a nasty disposition," Ramjet snorts. "OUT!" Ramjet shouts at Americon. "I don't want you inside me when I transform!" A bear-person scoops up the dead Sweep Cub looking fellow and begins to eat him rather casually, like he was snacking on a burger. Meanwhile, a bunch of Furries is starting to converge on the Decepticons. Powerglide watches Groove do his thang with a rather apathetic demeanor, "Yeah, sure. Try jumping off of somethin' really high, that's what I do." He focuses his attention not on the cannabilistic nature of the native beside him, but on the fiery explosion that just took place a bit away. "I'm done. Let's leave." Americon ulps as he pops open the hatch and hops out. "Roger that! Hey, stop that," He slaps at a bat-man who's getting a bit too friendly. Reinforced White F-15 Eagle transforms promptly after. "What.. in Jupiter's rings is that!?" He declares, staring at the advancing motley of furred creatures. He promptly thrusts a rifle in their direction. "Hnh. No matter. Strange, cuddly creatures -- behold your new overlords!" Reinforced White F-15 Eagle is more than meets the eye! Wings seperate and flip forward as engines seperate and extend into legs. Powerful arms fold out and the cockpit turns in and twists out, completing the transformation into the Decepticon Ramjet! Groove emerges from the shop, munching down some pills as he casually pulls out some unis and opens fire into the crowd staring at the flames in the distance. "Yeah like, dreams are ace cos you can do stuff you wouldn't do in real life. Like, stress relief." He nails an obese bunnygirl in the head. As Groove open fires on the crowd, including an anthro-Warthog that was getting way too friendly, Powerglide is splattered with their blood. But it's okay, because red on red cancels itself out or something. Thrust yawns and looks at Ramjet, "Orders, mister?" He locks his missiles in for ready to fire use. His rifle has a new cartridge. The Furries getting shot don't seem to care too much at the fact. Those who get shot spasm a bit, looking entirely too happy before they expire with a happy sigh. Their fellows just sort of stare at them before they continue staring at the burning village in the distance, or attempting to grab at one of the newcomers. Speaking of which, the furries don't respond verbally to Ramjet, and begin to converge on the Decepticons until they're buried in them up to their knees (or head in Americon's case). They paw at the Decepticons, murmering and warbling and chattering. And off in the distance, a loud engine roars. Americon slaps at a few Furries, yelling, "I am an American and I do not approve of your behavior!" Groove starts to walk towards where the Decepticons are, swinging his arms back and forth, crossing each other as he casually sprays out bullets, an orphanage exploding in the background. "Uuuugh I'm dreaming about Decepticons now?" he sighs loudly. "It better be like, Fusillade and now... aaaw hell naw, Ramjet." He stops dead still, watching the Decepticons from a distance. "Why am I dreaming about Ramjet and his mighty and firm cone?" "Well!?" Ramjet tilts his cone down at Americon as they're knee-deep in furries. He looks massively displeased by this development. He then stares at one of the creatures, a bearded thing with an enormous head that reminds him of a Sweep! "...WHAT!?" Ramjet bellows. He points his rifle at its head and triggers his weapon. *ZKRACK!* Thrust uses the butt of his rifle to club a furry. After the ram-man furry falls to the ground, knocked out... Thrust picks him up. "I shall call him... RAMJET JUNIOR!" Powerglide finds himself face-to-face with an obese fox, a Naruto headband tied tightly around her/his/its forehead. After a few extremely awkward moments, it begins to talk about a convention at which point Powerglide, who's not known for his conversational skills, sends a round of laserfire through its gut. "Seriously. I'm ready to go home now." Ramjet points his rifle at the creature Thrust holds in his hand. "THERE CAN ONLY BE ONE!" he bellows as he clenches his hand again, firing at the furry! Groove takes a box of Pocky from a street vendor's cart and a handfull of mangas, that he flips through as he wanders up to the Decepticons through the throng of Furries. "Uh hey dudes, are any of you like, Fusillade in disguise or something?" He squints his face up really hard as if wishing would make that true. "No..." Ramjet mutters in reply as he tries kicking away the crowd of furries at his feet. His left rifle swings back to aim at Groove. "But you can die nonetheless! Is this some sort of poorly-thought out Autobot trap with grotesque creatures that.. grotesque us.. with their.. grotesqueness!?!" Americon grins as he watches Groove kill Furries, and gets a clever idea. "Haha! I shall record the Autobot's warcrimes in a series of full-color photos and use them to disgrace his cause!" He pulls out a camera, and is about to take a few pictures when a gazelle person snatches the camera from him, and licks it ALL over, then hands it, dripping in saliva, back to Americon. The patriotic tape just stares at it, jaw hanging open. "Uh... you can have it." The engine-noise roars ever louder. Then, from out of nowhere, some sort of hovering APC slams into the mass of Furries, knocking dozens of them to the ground or up into the air. A hatch pops open on the top, and an alien humanoid--not a Furry, but more like one of those random alien races in Star Trek--pops out of the hatch and opens fire on the other Furries with a submachine gun. The person doesn't look like he's in good shape. His uniform is torn from multiple claw marks and other injuries, and he sports quite a few cuts on his face, too, but that doesn't seem to slow the new guy down, much. "What are you people doing here!?" the new alien says. "RUN! For the love of all that is holy, RUNNNN!!!" Then, it starts... low at first... but insistent... a rhythmic chanting... "Yiff... yiff... yiff..." Thrust chucks the dead body of the ram-man. "But... I was going to have fun scaring Dirge with that." He sighs and begins to open fire at the closest furries. "I ponder what happens if we shoot the Autobots?" Powerglide appears behind Groove, clad in the bloody skin of the aforementioned fox-beast, it's little paws hanging off his wingtips. "What's a yiff?" Groove hoists a minigun over his shoulder as he leaps onto the APC, spraying deadly bullets everywhere. "Best not to know dream Powerglide dude! Concentrate on turning into Chromia, and get on here with me!" He wobbles about a lot, since he's not good at combat or jumping or balancing or anything really. "What is THAT?" Ramjet shouts. He likes to be expressive with his owrds every so often. He turns his coned head back, in the direction of the yiffing chant. "What!?" He pulls his arm back at the elbow, fingers balling up in suspense. Thrust hovers behind Ramjet as he gets shot right in his ass plate by Groove's bullets. "Curses. A Yiff! Yiff! Yiff! It's the end of our time. Sweepcubs are after me Thrusty Charms!" "Don't you hear that NOISE!?" screams the alien over the sound of his gunfire. "Didn't you get my message!? I'm Captain Baxx, and I was trying to tell everyone to stay OFF the planet. I was trying to give instructions on how to activate the starship thrusters we installed on this planet's moon. We were going to drop the damn thing right on these abominations and wipe them out, but... dammit it all! Our ship crash-landed here right when we were about to leave... Then... my men... oh, God... the things they did to them... my GOD..." Captain Baxx fights back tears as he continues to fire upon the monstrous furries. "YIFF! YIFF! YIFF!" continues the chant. Clouds gather overhead blotting out the sun, and the Furries start to spasm, unsheathing claws, snarling, howling, ROARING... "YOU HAVE TO LEAVE!!!!" Baxx screams. Americon ulps as he hops up onto the back of the APC. "You don't have to tell me twice, sir! I feel very uncomfortable here!" Powerglide backs away from the chanting, but it's near impossible! It's all around them! He clambers up the side of the APC, "Let's go! C'monc'monc'mon!" Groove ties a headband around his forehead as he balances on the roof of the APC, his minigun blazing away as he sprays a wall of bullets everywhere. "Get in Powerdude, I won't let them violate you like a Nepsan Yeti!" He takes a puff of some horrific concoction and blows out the acrid circuit-corroding smoke in the direction of Ramjet. "C'mon Fusi dude!" Groove strikes Ramjet with its Ooooh maaaan attack. "What!?!" Ramjet echoes, his voice heavy with disbelief. The tables turn as a particularly vicious looking squirrel-girl with a prodigious chest unsheathes her claws. Being one to act first and question later, Ramjet lifts his foot up and kicks out with it, igniting the engine lodged in it. Flames belch out, cooking the chesty squirrel-girl in an instant. The smell of barbecued meat lingers heavily in the air... as does the smoke Groove blows at Ramjet. "...huhhwahha?" Ramjet gibbers, his jaw slack and optics glassy. "Oh.. maaan... I am so... high right now.. I'm definitely not down.. man I better get into this vehicle even though I can fly..." Ramjet boards the APC and sits next to Powerglide. "Heyy.. don't I know you from somewhere..?" As Powerglide turns to face Ramjet, the snout of his new fur hoodie droops over his face. He pushes it away, "Uh. No?" Turning back around, he secretly hopes that's the end of that conversation. "Groove, do you know how to get us back?" Groove looks up at the moon hanging in the sky. "Man, its so beautiful." He breathes. "Pass me the bomb." He pauses. "Uh no, sorry. BONG" Cliffjumper drops Groove's Bong. "YIFF! YIFF! YIFF!" The chanting is almost defeaning now, and the countryside has turned almost pitch-black from the thickening clouds. The Furries can still be seen, however, by the light of numerous flames engulfing their town. The light reflects off of their eyes, in particular, resulting in hundreds of sparkling dots in the darkness. In the throes of madness, the Furries turn upon each other, devouring, torturing, and other acts to terrible to name. "There's no bomb," Baxx says, as he tries to steer the APC away from the Furries, but frowns at the trouble he's having. His formerly speedy craft is barely pushing 25 mph with all the giant robots on it. "Just a crude thruster on the moon to give it a little shove, right into this God-forsaken planet. But first, we have to go back to my ship. These.. THINGS have been repairing it. We have to get to it before they finish fixing it, or... or..." He grimaces, unable to finish. Ramjet spaces, "..or..?" Captain Baxx only says, "You'll find out... when we get there." Americon, still clinging to the back of the APC, kicks at a few Furries that charge at the craft like Rage Zombies from 28 Days Later. A second squirrel girl grabs onto his kicking leg, and the cassette yelps as he tries to shake it off. "I blame France for this!!!" he yells. Powerglide pulls out his pistol and levels it with the squirrel beast attacking Americon, "I'm going to regret this!" He fires a round at it, blowing its head clean off. Unfortunately, squirrels are dastardly creatures and it continues to hang onto the cassette, despite lacking a cranium. "Well, I tried." Ramjet groans as he lays back against the APC. Groove's choice of smokeable playing havoc with his cranial circuits. "Unnnh..." Groove grabs the closest bong and takes a huge puff before leaping off the APC. "NO!" he cries out loud, giddily trying to stand as he lands on the ground. "No! If we can't push the moon to the planet, we have to push the planet to the MOON!" He stumbles onto a nearby soapbox and pulls out a microphone. "Friends, furries, countrymen, lend me your ears!" he cries. A headband with some cat ears are thrown at him. He gratefully puts it on. "You want to transform yourself, well, I saw transformation comes from the INSIDE!" He thumps his chest. "Sure, you may not be able to turn into a sweet motorbike, and instead be some morbidly obese mound of fat existing solely on Cheetos and toiling away at Space Kinkos, but you can be MORE! Leave your trailer home, take off your fursuit, throw away your iPhone!" He pumps his fist in the air as he eulogises Powerglide wonders if he can borrow that bong afterwards. Maybe it would make this whole roadtrip that much more tolerable. Captain Baxx explains, as everyone gets stoned and probably isn't paying attention to him anyway, "I'm with the Anti-Furr'hi Legion. Our mission is to wipe out these animal human hybrids that started popping up everywhere in the galaxy about thirty years ago. We suspect that it was a human, known as Dr. Archeville, who made them, and carelessly let them spread like a plague, bringing death and suffering everywhere they went. Our Legion has, over the course of several decades, been successful in wiping them out, except for two planets... and this, their secret homeworld, is one of them." He turns around in time to see Groove get off the APC. "My God, get back on!!!" he screams as the screeching Furries make a berserk charge at the Protectobot. Thrust readies his weapons and looks at Ramjet. "Fire away at the furry things?" He grins slightly as he releases a missile into his hand to use as a club. "Death to the furry kind!" Americon glares up at Powerglide. "Fool! You have to shoot it in the weakspot!" Hanging onto the APC with one hand, he uses the other to shoot the squirrel girl clinging to him twice in the chest, resulting in a gruesome splatter of gore and fat. The Furry releases its death grip and tumbles away. "See?" Ramjet tilts his cone forward and stares at Groove. "Hay.." He murmurs, still slacked out. ".. isn't that Beachcomber?" He tilts his head back. Thrust says something to him, but to Ramjet's addled mind, all he hears is "wah-wah-wahwahwah-wah, wah, wah-wahwah-wah-wah." Powerglide waves his pistol around at Americon, "Hey, shut up! Like I care about how to kill squirrels! What do you think I am, some sort of squirrel expert!?" You say, "YES!" Groove continues to punch his fist into his hand as he talks, then he waves back at Baxx. "Hey man, its okay, dream stuff can't hurt you, its just fun, look!" He leaps into the air and transforms into Defensor's arm, which starts to pimp slap the furries, before transforming into Defensor's leg and hopping after the APC. How? I DONT KNOW :(Powerglide prods Americon in the face with his gun, "WELL I'M NOT, SO SHUT UP." "OW!" Americon grunts as he is poked in the face with the gun. "Well, you SHOULD be!" Captain Baxx throws up his arms as he watches the Protectobot turn into one limb, then the other. "I... right, look, just follow behind me. Oh, and before I forget, nice work with those orbital strikes a while ago," he says, referring to the two shuttle crashes onto the planet, not knowing they were accidental. The APC coasts over the side of a hill, and Baxx peers off into the distance. "Ah, there's my ship now..." He squints, then gasps in horror. "Oh... oh no. We're too late! LOOK!" He begins to prod at the Transformers on the APC that he can reach. And there, beside a large attack shuttle, is a nightmarish abomination, huge in size and utterly disgusting in the worst ways imaginable. "It's... THAT THING!" Imagine the nastiest Furry picture you have ever seen, then multiply the gross-out factor of that by about 1000. If you do that, you'll get... THIS. Beyond that, it is impossible to describe this creature without exceeding our PG-13 rating. Suffice it to say that it is likely the most disgusting thing you have ever seen, ever. Groove transforms back to robot mode and staggers about, before curling up to sleep in a nearby fridge. Everyone knows that fridges can withstand nuclear explosions, so it is all good Groove takes a GIGANAMOUS rip off the Space Bong and exhales a huge mushroom cloud of STICKY-ICKY smoke! What a pro! Groove says, "*gag gag* That shit's cashed..." Groove giggles a little, and you notice its eyes are getting very bloodshot... Whooooah dude! Groove is trippin' the light fantastique now! THE COLORS MAN! THE COLORS ARE INCREDIBLE! OH SHEEEEET YO! It is at that very precise moment that Ramjet snaps forward, his optics raised in attention. "What!?" he exclaims as he is fond to do. "What!? Why am I in some kind of vehicle!? Decepticons don't -ride- around in -cars-! Especially not with... Powerglide!?!" His cone turns and he glares openly at the greatest Autobot, ever. "Out of my way!" He shoves whoever is closest to him and piles out of the APC. He leaps into the air and transforms, reconfiguring himself into a jet. "Thrust!" Ramjet shouts as he turns his sights onto the THING. "I came here to do two things! To blow something up and oppress alien lifeforms! At last, I can do this at the same time! Lock-on missiles, now! Ready the JETSTREAM ATTACK!" Ramjet transforms! His arms fold into his chest cavity as his legs fuse together to allow his thruster housings to slide snug against his chassis. Wings link together and lock into place as his cockpit twists into position. Groove looks around, wondering if it's its hit again, puff puff pass yo! I need another! Powerglide frowns and crosses his arms, "Fine, Autobots as awesome as me don't ride around in cars with..with.." He ponders for a moment, "Well, with guys like you!" As for THE..THING, he tries his best to avert his optics lest they explode. RAMJET stars in... RIDING IN CARS WITH AUTOBOTS. Americon frowns, and hops off the APC. "FINE! I will walk, if you are too good for me! JERK!" Then a Hippo-female jumps onto him, smothering him. "HWAAGH!" THAT... THING adjusts itself to look at the oncoming giant robots and APC, or at least it seems like it is. It emits a horrible scream that sounds like a thousand children being set on fire at the same time. Around the base of the... THING... are swarms of Furries, prostrating themselves before the creature, and apparently worshipping it. Some of the Furries are snatched up by the THING, and they squeek happily before they are crudely devoured. Captain Baxx freaks out when he gets a closer look at it, clutching his head and grimacing. "No, no!" "YES CAPTAIN BAXX!" the THING says in a vile, sleazy voice. "YOU REMEMBER ME, DON'T YOU!? YOU REMEMBER HOW I DEFILED AND KILLED YOUR FRIENDS, DON'T YOU!? WELL, DON'T WORRY, THEY WILL BE A PART OF ME... FOREVER! AHAHAHAHA!" There, on the creatures body, are the heads of aliens just like Baxx. "NOOOOO!!!" Captain Baxx screams. "Okay." Powerglide raises his arms, "I'm done. I want to get off this ride now." "Achieving lock.." the Decepticon F-15 Eagle says aloud. On board, the main screen overlaps the image of the THING with a targeting grid. Swinging a targeting recticle around, Ramjet's targeting coprocessors crunch streams of numbers within nanoseconds, calibrating proper vectors. At the end of the last numerical string, the recticle sinks in and turns red, issuing a complying beep! "Target-lock achieved. -TERMINATING-," Ramjet declares with great enthusiasm. "Razor-One, Fox-Three!" Both enormous projectiles hanging from the F-15's wings ignite as mooring clamps lift. They rocket toward the THING, leaving thick white streaks of smoke in their wake. Its panels lift out, seperating into dozens of slender warheads that all converge upon the THING's trunk. There's an explosion under the Hippo, and it flies up into the air in bloody chunks. Americon stands proud there, frowning at Powerglide. "That is NOT how we do it in AMERICA, mister! We have a job to do, and we can't go anywhere until it is done! So suck it up and kick some ass, because Mommy ain't here to listen to yer cryin'!" Powerglide gets hit in the face by a chunka hippo. "You're right!" he exclaims, rising to his feet, fists clenched, "Your words have inspired me, little bird-cassette. We are going to show that..that THING how good ol' America does it!" THAT... THING shrieks as the missiles slam into its body, causing a huge spray of miscolored gore from the wounds inflicted upon it. However, this has the side effect of encouraging the abomination to grab more Furries and devour them, and before Ramjet's very optics, the creature regenerates, laughing in a disgusting, mocking way. "USELESSSS!" "Robots!" Captain Baxx says. "The only way to kill it for good is to destroy this whole planet, otherwise, as long as there is something for it to eat we will not be able to kill it off completely! Total annihilation is the only way!" His APC chugs closer to the ship, and he begins to clear a path through the Furries with his SMG. Americon nods. "Damn right we will! You and me, together, working against a foe we hate even more than each other! Sure, it's cliched as hell, but dammit all, JUST LOOK AT THAT DAMN THING!" He gestures at the creature, exasperated. "If you're with me, I'm with you... IN AMERICA!!!" He begins to charge towards the creature, firing away with his blasters. Powerglide raises his fist in the air, "Yeah! Yeah, you're right! Let's do this, little buddy!" He lifts his pistol into the air, fires it off into the sky a few times and then begins to bum rush THAT...THING with all the might a Minibot can muster. Reinforced White F-15 Eagle spins his paired gatlings, unleashing torrent after torrent of laserfire upon the THING. THAT... THING screeches from the combined weapons fire, wobbling and thrashing obscenely, swallowing hordes of Furries in an attempt to compensate for the damage. "YOU... CANNOT DEFEAT ME! I AM INFINITE! I CONSUME EVERYTHING! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT WASTE MATTER TO ME!" In retaliation, gouts of green liquids spray out from the creature at its assailants. Captain Baxx jinks his APC to the side, narrowly avoiding the attack as it burns into the ground. "Damn! Keep pressing forward, we have to make it to the ship!" "I'll show you /waste matter/." Ramjet ostensibly spits from his transmitter. Bobbing under the streams of green spray, he redoubles his assault on the THING. Streams of laserfire pour from him, his energon levels decreasing with them. As soon as he nears, he juices his afterburners. Coronas of blue flames surround his engines, providing enough thrust for Ramjet to shatter the sound barrier. His ebon-capped cone aimed for the THING's body -- he intends to jam it right in -- and come out the other end! Americon is forced to dodge one gout of green stuff as he makes his approach to the ship. "Hey, I'm sure the American Revolutionary Army went through the SAME thing!" he yells. "Don't sweat it!" Powerglide stops dead in his tracks and levels his pistol at the foul beast, taking a shot and firing a stylish red laser at it. "FOR AMERICA!" he yells, jumping on the bandwagon like a teenager scenester. Unfortunately for him, he was so wrapped up in taking futile pot shots at the monster, that he made a prime target for a pile of green crap to land on. "No! Agh! It has TEXTURE!" THAT... THING screams under the laser fire from multiple directions, withering and quivering, and then Ramjet rams him. The Seeker blasts a hole right through its body, and upon exiting the beast sucks out with him a huge swarm of guts and foul fluids. Indeed, the creature seems to be inverted upon itself, shuddering once before seeming to deflate like a balloon. "UNNNHHHHH..." it moans out, as it seems to die. "It's not dead!" Captain Baxx warns, however. "It'll regenerate soon, we have to take this opportunity to get on the shuttle now!" He pulls out a remote, pressing a button on it. The back hatch of his shuttle opens, and, plowing a path through a bunch of shrieking furries, drives inside with his APC. "GET ON THE SHUTTLE! WE ARE LEAVING!" Meanwhile, Furries begin to throw themselves on what is left of THAT... THING and begin to roll around in it. Americon's robot legs pop out metallic feather-like objects as they and his lower torso split apart, also revealing an eagle head. The arms and robot head join the main body, and his guns convert into tail feathers and rocket launchers. Americon is now a bald eagle! Robotic Bald Eagle swoops over to Powerglide, grabbing him by the head and trying to pull him along and out of the muck. "C'mon, DUDE! We gotta go! George Washington ran when he had to, and I sure as hell don't have any problem with it at this moment!" Reinforced White F-15 Eagle rockets out of the THING, covered in gut-goo and matted in a few skeletons -- his nosecone included. "AUUGH," he shouts in agony. He feels dirty -everywhere-. Transforming into robot mode, Ramjet hits the ground running for the shuttle. "Let's go, Thrust!" Reinforced White F-15 Eagle is more than meets the eye! Wings seperate and flip forward as engines seperate and extend into legs. Powerful arms fold out and the cockpit turns in and twists out, completing the transformation into the Decepticon Ramjet! Powerglide was having one helluva time trying to get out of that green sludge. It hung onto him like furries hang onto the false idea that they're normal. As Americon grabs him, the Minibot pops out of the crap with an stomach-churning 'slorp', "Americon! My hero!" He swoons, but only for a second, "Okay, hurry up and fly faster so we can leave." Robotic Bald Eagle 's thrusters flare brightly as he pulls Powerglide into the shuttle, although it probably isn't the most comfortable means of transportation, being dragged along by your head, that is. "Sure thing! You know, I don't know why I'm saving you, maybe it's because I'm so full of American pride right now!" Captain Baxx, meanwhile, is already firing up the engines, and seals up the hatch as soon as everyone is in. Then, he presses a few buttons on his console. "Ok, I activated the thrusters on the moon. It'll be crashing into the planet any moment now." Then, a bunch of cat-people leap onto the windshield, screeching and clawing! "AHHH! Damn them all!" Nevertheless, he keys the thrusters, and the ship begins to lift off. Ramjet stands inside Captain Baxx's shuddle, arms folded over his chest. He taps his fingers, waiting, waiting, waiting... "AWOOOOO!" cries out that horrible voice. "YOU CANNOT LEAVE! I MUST SPREAD AMONGST THE STARS UNTIL EACH ONE IS DEFILED! YOU WILL NOT LEAAVE! AWOOOOOOOOOOO." Powerglide has no problem being dragged by the head. He's gone through more embarassing/painful things before, "Yeah, American pride. That's it." He wretches himself free from the bird's talons once inside the ship and thuds onto the floor, "LET'S CHEESE IT!" The shuttle blasts off into the sky, the cat creatures screaming and trying to hang on until the rushing air forces them off, and they begin to plummet thousands of feet to the ground. Up ahead, looming impossibly large on the viewscreen, is the moon of the world, crashing down on the planet. The pressure it creates on the atmosphere causes it to ignite, and white-hot air blasts from the impact point, frying everything in its path instantly. Fortunately, the shuttle clears the planet in time. Grimly, Captain Baxx brings up the rear view monitor as the flames burn across the entire planet, scouring the once beautiful paradise into a blackened hell. The moon and the planet show white hot cracks near the spots where they impacted each other, and it is unlikely either celestial body will survive for long. "My God..." Baxx gasps. "We barely made it. And we succeeded in killing those things off! Thank you all, I couldn't have done it without--wait, I'm getting hailed." He punches in a few buttons, then another voice says, "This is Galactic Assembly Rescue Vessel Dargos. We received your distress call and... what is happening to that planet!?" Robotic Bald Eagle looks about nervously. "Uhoh! The cops!" Powerglide shakes Americon around, "CHEESE IT!" Robotic Bald Eagle yells, "OK!" and begins to run around the interior of the shuttle. "Uh... where to!? There's nowhere to go!" Robotic Bald Eagle runs kinda like a penguin would, if you're wondering. Powerglide grabs onto his head, "Oh God! We're trapped!" Ramjet GROANS. His cone slings down as his hand reaches up to meet it, cradling it gently. What wretched luck. Without much else to go on, he takes the lead. Stepping up to Captain Baxx's chair, Ramjet reaches out with his hand and shoves the man aside. He clears his throat and taps the communicator's line open. Time to con a bitch. "Uh, we're fine. We're all fine here, now..." Ramjet says in his best, innocuous voice. "How are you?" Captain Baxx was about to offer a likely excuse when Ramjet shoved him aside. "ACK!" he cries. "I... we're... fine!?" the Dargos officer says. "That planet is being destroyed! Do you know anything about this? There's been a rash of genocide incidents against the Furr'hi's and we're looking for the ones responsible for it!" Robotic Bald Eagle waddles back over to Powerglide, thrashing his wings. "WE'RE DOOOOMED! DOOOOOOOMED!" Powerglide throws his arms around Americon, "That's it! Game over, man! Game over!" "No! Of course not!" Ramjet says, sounding bewildered in a very exclaimatory way. He lets go of the commlink, pausing it briefly so he can swing his cone to Captain Baxx. "Where is your weapons array?!" He then turns to switch it back on, "We're just a passing cargo ship! We're carrying pharmaceuticals to the beleagured people of Tantalax-4! I, uh, am Captain Ram..... uh... b-uhh... bone. Rambone. Captain Rambone." Ramjet clears his throat. "That's, uh, Ram-bo-ne. Space French." Robotic Bald Eagle sobs uncontrollably as he hugs Powerglide. "I'll be here for you man, until the end!" Powerglide strokes Americon's beak consolingly, "Me too, man! Me too!" Captain Baxx blinks as he points at one section of the console. "Uh... over there? I should still have some anti-capital-ship missiles left. Hey, wait a minute..." "Rambone, huh," the Dargos officer says. "You realize you're on the other side of the galaxy from the Tantalax system? Power down your engines and prepare for boarding!" Robotic Bald Eagle holds Powerglide close. "I'm sorry for all those times I tried to murder you for being a stinking wussy Autobot! I'm so sorry!" "LAUNCHING MISSILES!" Ramjet bellows in-person and over the Decepticon broadband. He reaches to the side of the console and slams his fist against the red button marked 'FIRE.' "BOARD THIS!" he declares triumphantly over the ship-to-ship commlink. Powerglide tries not to sob uncontrollably, but fails miserably. "Me too, man! I'm sorry for all those times I tried to beat you to a pulp for being a nasty, cassette Decepticpn!" "What!?" the Dargos officer says, and someone can be hear yelling on the bridge, "ACTIVATE ANTI-MISSILE DEFENSE SYSTEMS!" just before the line goes dead. Then, on the main screen, a window pops up showing the Assembly ship being struck by missiles, venting hot gasses in numerous locations, bulging, then finally exploding. "Dammit all," Baxx says, shaking his head. "Well, that damned Assembly always stood in the way of our mission. I suppose you had no choice. Damn, I need a shower." He takes out a cigarrette of some kind and begins to smoke it. "Oh, yeah, might wanna, uh, cover up this little incident, if you know what I mean. Assembly won't be too happy about this, as it is." Robotic Bald Eagle pokes his head up at the viewscreen, frowns at Powerglide, then pushes off of him, waddling away to stare at the wall. Powerglide stands and brushes himself off, "Hmpth. Fine. Are we on our way back now? Finally?" "You!" Ramjet stares at Captain Baxx. "Do you know who I am!? I am Air Commander Ramjet of the Decepticon Empire! You and your craft are now under my jurisdiction! Pilot this craft back to the Sol system, immediately! Meanwhile.. I shall stand watch! Americon, train a gun on this creature and shoot him if he decides to take us somewhere completely unrelated to where I desire to go!" Taking one step back, Ramjet places his fists on his hips and elevates his right leg. Yep. He's got a lil' Cap'n in him. Captain Baxx blinks incredulously, first at Ramjet, then at Americon, who transforms and points a gun at him. "But we went through so much together! How could you... oh, fine..." He frowns, throwing up his hands. "I'll do it." Americon undergoes a patriotic transformation into his All-American robot mode! Ramjet looks back to Powerglide. He makes a face at the Minibot. "As for YOU," he indicates with emphasis. He loves emphasizing words. They make his lips feel tingly. "I ought to destroy you right now. However. Starship-scale genocide takes a lot out of me and I feel that I must rest. Therefore, you get to live with the understanding that no one. NO ONE. Will ever hear about this again. When we arrive on Earth, you may return to your Autobot friends. Is that understood?" Powerglide is actually far too traumatized from everything that's happened, so it's very, very unlikely that he would speak of it ever again, even without Ramjet's threats. "Oh, trust me. I understand." Americon phews, wiping his brow with a wing before sitting down on his feathered rump. "Yeah, we can always kill ya later, it's cool." Elsewhere, Captain Baxx takes the helm, plotting in a course as he grumbles, "Would've brought you back anyway..." Thrust looks at Americon, "A magnetic chicken accelerator will be priceless! We can use it to distract Foxfire... If Foxfire is not too busy licking himself!" Americon frowns, holding his chin as he nods. "Yesss... he does lick himself very frequently! But if the chicken is constantly bawking while traveling faster than the speed of sound, it should get his attention!" Powerglide snerks at all the Foxfire hate in the ship. Ramjet folds his arms over his chest and leans against a bulkhead. "Hush! I have reputation to uphold. No one crosses path of the Air Commander of Decepticon Aerospace.. and considers it a pleasant meeting! No one!" Thrust looks at Powerglide, "Wanna go beat up Foxfire with me and Americon? It's the American thing to do!" AND SO, the day was SAVED! Thanks to... the Decepticons and Autobots! The moral of the story is that genocide is fun!
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