Author's Note: God, how long has it been? Two months? More? I dunno. Anyway, I'm back, and I intend to work on this some more; it's been a real labour of love, and I want to see it go down with glory. Or something. Anyway, the title comes from the episode 'Thief in the Night' (again, if you think I'm making this up, check the TF Archive, or a similar website), and no, I can't make any promises of the quality. Two reviewers decided to respond to the last chapter…
Saphire Cat: Megatron returning? Well, he himself certainly thinks so…
Pivot: Making the Rodmeister a toaster would make him actually quite good for something, which is in direct confrontation with his own mental condition. And I'll get round to that rebellion thing sometime soon…
Now, go, read on, or thee shall burn in the Wicker Man's belly to appease the harvest god! Hoo-hah!
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Time: 1500 Earth Hours. Location: The Big Apple.
When an innocent person bites off more than they can chew in a city as big as New York, there isn't a great deal anybody can do about it. The police are ineffectual and in limited numbers, the army don't concern themselves with such small-scale entanglements, and Spider-Man doesn't really exist, despite what a few million spotty-faced teenagers the world over may say.
But I am here. And I will do my utmost to defend the defenceless, to protect the unprotected, to smite thy evil from the face of this earth…
"Just give us the gawd damn bag, missus! Or do we hafta let Louie here smack you up?"
In an alleyway near the Hilton hotel, an old woman had been cornered by a small band of wandering street punks, those pathetic dregs of society who just won't do something worthwhile with their lives, and seem to wish for everyone else to feel as miserable as they undoubtedly do. One was waving an unfolded switchblade at his side, grinning away with a blank look on his face. Unfortunately for him, this mugging would be his last.
In a blinding flash of pink light, the ground underneath the kid blew away in a crater, with a resounding boom akin to a crashing plane. The kid himself threw ten feet through the air and collided, upside-down, with a concrete wall. His accomplices, startled, looked up and saw nothing; nothing but an enormous shadow looming over them, smoke drifting up from what was unquestionably a weapon barrel. Heeding their instincts, the remaining kids scampered off as fast as their little legs could carry them. The old woman looked up as her saviour crouched down, his – its? – face becoming visible; no mouth, no nose, no eyes, just a visor and a metal plate. A surprisingly loud voice emanated from behind the mask.
"Have you received harm, citizen?"
"What? Erm, uh, no…"
"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me…" The mech stood up to leave.
"Wait! Umm…" The old woman fidgeted for a minute before continuing. "I've seen you on the news…you're supposed to be evil, right? They called you, eh, Soundbite or something?"
The robot looked down once more, an odd tremor in his voice. "That may have been true once. But my real purpose has been revealed to me…I must fight evil…in all its forms…and wear this really snazzy red cape…for such is the fate of the hero. The monotonic comms officer Soundwave is no more…Now…there is only…CASSETTE MAN!"
The old woman shook her head. "But, why…?"
"Why? Simple…" The mech turned and put his hands on his hips, yellow-rimmed chest thrust outward. "Because CRIME DOESN'T SOUND GOOD TO ME! SALUTATIONS!"
The blocky mech saluted and, with a hideously fake 'Whoosh!', flew off into the sunrise…
~On a NASA Shuttle, Headed For Unicron~
"Checkmate."
"Wait a minute…no way is that checkmate!"
"Why not?"
"Because fortresses don't move diagonally!"
"Since when?"
"Since ever!"
Mirage leaned into the rear compartment, looking fairly irritable. "Would you two gits can it? I've only just gotten Sludge to sleep, and I can't be sure how long Hound's sedative effects will work!"
At that moment, Hound was suing his state-of-the-art holographic projectors to make himself look akin to a large teddy bear. Unfortunately, Sludge can only sleep when he's cuddling something, and Sludge is a big lad. Ratchet was standing by with a fresh pack of Mecha-Morphine to silence the squeals.
"Stuff this, I'm going for a leak." Brawn made his intentions all too clear once again, drawing sickened looks from all present. Standing and unclipping his waste disposal pipe, he stepped over to the nearest door…
"Whu – No, Brawn, That's the – " Bumblebee never got the chance to finish his sentence. Brawn yanked the Emergency Exit door off its hinges, and was instantly pulled out into space as vacuum filled the room. Hound, Wheeljack and Mirage made it into the next compartment, but Windcharger, Cliffjumper and Bumblebee, being lighter, were almost sucked out into oblivion, hanging on to the door frame for dear life.
"What's all the commotion? Did someone fart?" Optimus Prime, big hero that he is, ran into the compartment with his rifle at the ready. Then he tripped on Sludge, skidding along on the floor face-first. His trademarked laser rifle flew from his hand, knocking off the floor and discharged in the direction of the three small-bots, knocking them into the void. As the door sealed shut and the room repressurised, Mirage clapped a hand to his forehead.
"Oh, good going, Mighty Blundertron! Your foolish actions have now, albeit accidentally, cost us the lives of three more soldiers, before the battle has even begun!"
Optimus scratched his cranium. "What accident?"
~Back On Unicron~
"Unicron! Hear me!" Jazz, the Porsche-bot, yelled at the planet-sized menace he was stood upon.
"I can hear you just fine, now whaddaya want?" The massive machine answered, without moving his mouth.
"Then you understand – I must try to defeat you! It's in my legally binding contract as one of the 'good guys'!" Jazz promptly charged the enormous machine. And fell straight down its throat. Omega Supreme, watching silently, decided to take a different course of action.
"Combat victory probability: 0.014%. Alternate choice selected: Shift ass." With that, the grey gestalt leapt off of the mechanical planet-tyrant and shifted into its rocket form, flying away toward Earth.
Inside Unicron, Jazz was falling down…and then hit solid ground. Which he couldn't see; everything around him was pure black. Clambering to his feet, he looked around. "Anybody home?"
"Yesss…" Out of nowhere, the rasping voice and bullet-shaped head of 'The Big Meg' Megatron appeared behind Jazz. Slowly, the angled purple head of Shockwave coalesced beside it.
"Do not be alarmed, there is a logical explanation." A third head, the pointed sandcastle of Galvatron, also appeared, pausing briefly before…
"HE'S JUST A POOR BOY FROM A POOR FAMILY, SPARING HIS LIFE FOR THIS MONSTROSITY! Galileo…Gal – " BZAM!
Shockwave's left hand had appeared beside his head and melted the sandcastle away to nothingness. "I detest Queen. Iron Maiden or perhaps Metallica, but no Queen."
Jazz stared blankly for a moment, before asking the obvious question. "Dude…didn't you die or something?"
Shockwave slowly turned and answered. "Why, yes. But only within the constraints of the cartoon continuity. As you can clearly see, the interior of Unicron here is quite different from the interior seen in Transformers The Movie. Therefore it would be logical to conclude that the continuity we currently inhabiting is not, in fact, the atrocious Sunbow/Marvel cartoon, but instead an unfamiliar offshoot of the Marvel or Dreamwave comic storyline, or possibly a figment of another being's limited imaginatory capabilities."
Jazz blinked. "I didn't get a word of that."
"And what, you think I did?! I'm just reading from a script!"
"SILENCE YOU FOOLS!"
Both Jazz and Shockwave turned toward Megatron, who was seething with rage. What else is new?
"What is required now is for myself and Shockwave to be returned to our original bodies. For some bizarre reason, we are stuck in this never-ending darkness and cannot detach from said space." He looked at Jazz. "Do you see where I'm going?"
Jazz folded his arms and sneered. "If you think for one astrosecond that I'm gonna help you, then – "
Megatron grinned. "My dear fool, at what time did I say you had a choice in the matter?"
Suddenly there was a flash of light, and Jazz felt as if he had been pierced by a thousand burning needles…then all was normal once more. Jazz realised he was down on his knees; he tried to rise, but his legs wouldn't obey his commands, and he wound up doing a handstand.
"Hey, what the heck is – GAH!" Looking sideways, Jazz came face to face with Megatron. Looking to the other side, he came face to face with Shockwave. And their faces were joined onto his body.
Shockwave grumbled something random while Jazz' left arm flailed about like a wounded fish. Megatron rolled his eyes and groaned audibly. "Oh, not again…"
Jazz had returned himself to the upright position, but now found he couldn't walk in a straight line. "Stop butting into my mental commands!"
"But we should be going THAT way!"
"No, I say we go – "
While the three continued to argue, Jazz' body randomly scampered around, deflecting from walls and doing cartwheels, occasionally bursting into song and dance.
"Let's do the Time-Warp agaaaaiiiiinnnn! Yeah-yeah! C'mon!"
"Silence!"
"This is beginning to affect our performance.
"Gee, y'think?!"
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Author's Note: Another chapter finito, and we're still no closer to the end, folks. I need to move along. Next time: What happened to Thundercracker, Skywarp and Astrotain? Will Omega Supreme find suitable allies? Will Optimus Prime downsize his elite Autobot commanders further? All this PLUS more law-friendly, justice-powered adventures of the spectacular Cassette Man!
On a side note, does anyone feel that Cassette Man Merits his own stories? I can see him becoming quite the respectable superhero…he certainly couldn't be any worse than that Martian guy from JLA. Drop me a review and share your opinions/sap your bile duct. 'Til next time, it's a Triggerhappy sign-off – "Have Gun, Have Fun!"
Microwave Jockey