Loose Lips Sink Ships

Outskirts of Los Angeles, California

Los Angeles, the City of Angels, is anything but. It is a city of people, many, many, many people. Skyscrapers extend to the smog-filled heavens while cars crowd the roads. It is a center of power and wealth, where the arts flourish and the celebrated make their homes. One of the nation's most ethnically diverse cities, communities range from Chinatown and Little Tokyo to the genuine Mexican markets on Olvera Street as well as thriving Korean and Middle Eastern cultures.

"Now, explain to me, Needlenose-" Cackle says, with no small amount of seething in her voice. "Just HOW are we going to get the Dirk Alistair android out of HUMAN JAIL?" She grumbles, and then lowers her macrobinoculars as she crouches amongst the letters of L.A.'s famous HOLLYWOOD sign.

Needlenose folds his arms, leaning against the first 'O' as he gazes off in the direction of the city, "Listen Cackle, Dirk Alistair can take care of himself. He's been in tougher spots like this. Why, when Dirk Alistair was just a young kid growing up on the mean streets of Chicago, he got himself into some trouble with Johnny Law. But did Dirk Alistair panic? No way, Cackle. Dirk Alistair was a pro, even back then."

Amber MacKenzie picks up a gyros sandwich in a pita, with yogurt, and a piece of baklava from the Middle Eastern market on the outskirts of LA and strolls toward the grassy hillock upon which the Hollywood sign stands. What a lovely place for a picnic. She sits down and unwraps her sandwich, her gaze drifting over the view. Too bad it's contaminated by that ugly brown haze.

Cackle twitches a bit. This is honestly a pretty standard response to Needlenose's company. "AGH." she rants, and shakes a fist at the Targetmaster. "YOU are Dirk Alistair! And he didn't EXIST until -I- created him with my brilliant technical mind! And now, my plan for GLOBAL DOMINATION has been POSTPONED on account of YOUR FRIPPERIES." she huffs, and turns back to glare at the city. "So how will we FIX THIS!?"

Needlenose nods solemnly to Cackle, "I hear ya, sister. We're all Dirk Alistair." He makes a fist with his hand and taps his chest. "We *all* created him. It was his loyal fans who saw him through all the lean years, back when it was just him, Neil Leslie, and Maximilian Jones playing at the local pubs. Then poor Max got in with the wrong crowd..."

Needlenose hangs his head, thinking back on the tough times. "Started doing drugs, got caught, and now he's doing a cold dime on the inside." Needlenose then raises his chin up, looking hopeful. "But Dirk Alistair won't make those same mistakes, Cackle. Sure he slips every so often... but he's trying. He's trying his damn best. Can't you see that, Cackle? We can fix it just by helping him out a little more."

Amber MacKenzie almost chokes on a bite as the sudden sound of voices reaches her unsuspecting ears. She was a thousand miles away and thought she was alone. AGH... YOU... EXIST... GLOBAL DOMINATION... POSTPONED... YOUR FRIPPERIES... FIX THIS... While there's nothing wrong with company for her meal, global domination is something of an attention-getter. She hurriedly chews and swallows, then carefully lays her sandwich down and looks up the rather barren hillside, the direction from which the voices came.

Cackle perhaps could have picked a better place and time to rant...but that would concede giving thought to PUNY HUMAN MATTERS. And so, she's just content to glare at Needlenose. "Yes, yes, follow your own false narrative...but that DOES NOT HELP US." she huffs- so hard that her shoulder cannons bob in annoyance. "Now, will you give us some SOLUTIONS!?"

Needlenose shrugs at Cackle as if this wasn't a real problem at all. "Ok, first thing you do? You play this up to the hilt on the media circuit. Will famed Dirk Alistair be at his concert? Dirk Alistair never lets down his fans, but can even he stand up to the /man/ who's /keeping him down/? That s---'ll drive the kids crazy to buy his albums and show up for his concerts. Second, Dirk Alistair just pleads down to a misdemeanor, promises to go into rehab, and then never does. Honestly, Cackle, I feel like I'm doing you a favour here."

Amber MacKenzie sees nothing to start with, so she kneels in the bushy vegetation and pulls out her camcorder. Slowly panning it back and forth, she scans the hillside with and without zoom and works her way up towards those large letters. PUNY HUMAN MATTERS. As she begins to suspect what's going on, she stays where she is and makes no sudden movements. Hmmmmm. A thought occurs to her, and she plugs in her earjack and turns the gain up on her camera.

Cackle rubs at her temples. "If you REALLY wanted to do me a favor, you wouldn't have gotten into this kind of mess in the first place! NYARGH." she mutters, and then resumes glaring in the general direction of Los Angeles. "...This would be so much easier if we could just raze this pathetic organic camp and have done with it!"

"Huh? Oh, sure, we could also just bomb the crap out of the jail and grab Alistair," Needlenose nods. "That'd take about ten seconds. But c'mon, where would the fun be in /that/?" He gives Cackle a look that suggests she must be an idiot or something for even considering such an option. "Here, tell you what. We'll put it to a vote. All in favour of solving this using human methods, raise your hand." Needlenose raises his hand. "All in favour of doing it your method?"

Ah hah! As her viewscreen passes over one of the letters, the volume suddenly takes a jump, and Amber can hear them more clearly. She bites her tongue to keep from grumbling out loud about seeing Decepticons whenever she turns around. It's hazardous to her health! Nonetheless, she lays on her stomach for better cover and eavesdrops on the conversation from above. Erk. Her rich green jacket stands out like a sore thumb, so she carefully shrugs out of it and stuffs it beneath her. Ah, this is interesting.

Cackle raises her hand! "I am in favor of my own plan!" a pause. "...that didn't really help anything, did it?" she huffs, and then scratches at her helm. "...So, uh. Presuming I want to save ammunition and energon, just how does YOUR WAY work, Needlenose?"

Needlenose grins at Cackle. "I'll tell you in a second." He then suddenly pulls out his guns. They transform into Nebulans. "Let’s have a recount, shall we? All in favour of Dirk Alistair's plan?" He and Sunbeam raise their hands. Needlenose glares at Zigzag for a few seconds before kicking him. "I SAID, ALL IN FAVOUR OF MY PLAN?" "Huh? Oh, sure, whatever." Zigzag raises his hand. "All in favour of Cackle's plan?"

"OH COME ON." Cackle says. "Nebulans don't count! They're all squishy and organic!" Still, Cackle crosses her arms across her chestplate and pouts.

Amber MacKenzie hits record on her camera, damning herself for a fool for not doing it already. She has to restrain a snicker, though, at the Decepticon democratic process. She blinks in mild surprise. What's Dirk Alistair have to do with this? 'Jail' suddenly clicks as well. The young punk is currently incarcerated. She shrugs slightly. Maybe it'll make more sense to the Autobots. Something crawls over her leg, and she freezes, but it's just a lizard. Bloody hell.

Needlenose frowns at Cackle. He steps right up to her, using his size to tower over her. "You know who /else/ is squishy and organic? /Dirk/. Motherf---ing. /Alistair/."

While Needlenose lays down the law, Sunbeam chillaxes by sitting down and pondering whether or not to take a nap. With all the pollution screwing with the sunlight, he's feeling kinda sleepy. Zigzag on the other hand begins wandering around, looking annoyed. Oh oh, if he keeps going he might wind up walking right over a certain intrepid reporter.

Cackle cringes, just a little, at Needlenose's taller stature. "UH." she says. "...Technically, Dirk Alistair is just a title you bestowed on a DESTRON-model human-personification android?" she offers, blissfully unaware of various interlopers and observers and what have you. "...you still haven't solved our problem."

Amber MacKenzie frowns at the additional movement. Green eyes narrow as the Nebulan approaches. She gauges his random course and furtively - and rather skillfully - moves to avoid him. Or to avoid where she thinks he'll be. Unfortunately, that means her camera must be hung around her neck and no longer pointed in the Decepticons' direction. That loses her her ability to eavesdrop as well.

Needlenose hmphs. Still, he takes a step back and gets considerably less threatening. "I'm pretty sure I did. Like I said, Dirk Alistair'll just plead guilty to a lesser offense, get ordered to rehab, and then not bother showing up. It's showbiz, Cackle. You may have had a great idea on how to swindle all the humans into becoming our slaves, but let’s face it: You don't know diddly about what makes them tick. That, my dramatically shorter friend, is why I am here to assist."

Zigzag, meanwhile, grumbles as he stomps through the brush on the hillside. "Stupid Needlenose," he mutters. "I can't believe he actually used /Aimless/ once instead of me. Talk about stupid."

Cackle fumes! Literally. She may be losing fuel efficiency on account of this. "Fine!" She huffs, and turns away. "Do your 'Show Business.'" Finger quotes are used. "See if I care! So long as we can make use of Dirk Alistair for my MASTER PLAN, then all else is irrelevant!" and with that, she takes off into the smoggy evening sky!

The station's building at the top of the hill's doors open, and out steps Reidan, holding an old style tape reel. He hums as he closes the door behind him, turning around and taking a step... before going utterly still, staring down the hill a short distance to the two Decepticons, and the Nebulans nearby "... Oh deary dear..." he murmurs.

Amber MacKenzie breathes a sigh of relief. One down, one and a half? to go. She creeps through the bushes on her hands and knees, trying to zag when ZigZag zigs. Bugger the guy. It's like he's anticipating her changes of direction. She picks a particularly large, prickly, and not-easily-stompable bush to shelter beneath.

Needlenose waves at Cackle, "Don't worry, Cackle! It'll all turn out in the end! If not, I'll owe you a Swindlebrau!" Needlenose grins before leaning against that first 'O' again, gazing down at the city. Primus, he thinks, it really is gorgeous. Something about it makes it even more impressive than Polyhex was back in the day.

Zigzag walks on for another few moments before stopping. He stares at the city as well. "What a dump!" he declares a bit too loudly. Although he's in the same general area as Amber, he doesn't appear to have noticed her. He ain't all that observant.

Reidan Wesley fidgets a few times, adjusting his hat. Well, only one way past them. He takes the second step, starting down the trail towards the first syllable of the word on his way, humming softly and nervously under his breath, eyes always on the nearing Decepticon and Nebulans, oblivious to Amber there.

Amber MacKenzie watches from about twenty feet away, biting her lip in worry and trying to ignore the many thorns trying to work their way through her blouse. She fights the urge to trip the rude, crude Zigzag; it's time to beat a retreat. Easing away from the sheltering bush, she moves almost silently through the lush green grass and makes a wide circle around the Nebulan. It's dark enough now that the Decepticon up the hill shouldn't see her - she hopes - as she works her way downhill. Her car is parked down there.

Needlenose is interrupted from his admiring of Los Angeles as he hears a sound behind him. "Eh?" he says, whirling about. Shouldn't be any large wildlife here. He squints, spotting something moving from up the hill. The Targetmaster shoots his hand out, ready to begin blasting. All he needs now... "Sunbeam, activation plan Delta!" he shouts. Sunbeam opens one eye, waking up from his nap. "Dude? Wait, delta? That's... wait, Needlenose, where are we going to find a pint of baby oil out here?" Needlenose sighs, "That's plan alpha. Just get over here."

Zigzag, meanwhile, tromps closer and closer to Amber. Despite the woman starting to creep away, he can't hear her over the sound of his own heavy footsteps. Then, suddenly, he stops upon hearing something. He looks up the hill in the complete opposite direction as Amber. "The hell is that moron shouting about now?" he mutters.

Reidan Wesley moves a little more quickly now as he's spotted, and ducks his head. "Don’t mind me! I'm just a helpless, cowardly human fleeing the presence of a mighty Decepticon and his poseu-Posse members of power!"

Amber MacKenzie takes advantage of the Nebulan's distraction to rise to a crouch and move more easily and quickly downhill. It's dark, but the city's ambient light provides much-needed illumination. Of course, it may provide more illumination for the enemy, too, but he's looking uphill anyway. She pauses halfway down, fishes her Blackberry out of a pocket, and dials 9-1-1. "Decepticons sighted at the Hollywood sign," she whispers dutifully into the communicator, then puts it away and continues her retreat.

Sunbeam finally gets over there, jumps into Needlenose's outstretched hand, and transforms into gun mode. It takes about eight seconds total. Needlenose relaxes as he finally spies and hears Reidan. His superior robot night vision means he can make him out pretty well now. "Oh, ha ha, dude, you totally had me going for a second." He lowers Sunbeam, holstering the Nebulan. "I thought for sure Foxfire was going to leap out of the shadows at me and be all like 'rarr' and I'd be all like 'ahhh' and he'd be all like 'grrr' and I'd be all like 'nooooo' and he'd be all like-" he keeps going like this for a while.

Zigzag meanwhile, being useless at everything, starts tromping away from Amber back towards Needlenose. Amber of course proves that she's the smartest human on 2k5 since... ever (except for perhaps Marissa). How long before the EDC firebombs the entire hillside?

Reidan Wesley watches Needlenose carefully now, ready to run, dodge, or flee as well - he was after all, in the process of fleeing, making himself the second smartest. Although his sanity is always questioned. He chuckles at the comment. "Ah well, no need for that. I'd be the one going 'ahh' and 'nooo' and the like if anything violent occurred." He tips his hat respectfully to Zigzag.

Amber MacKenzie makes it to her car, left parked on Mulholland Highway below, and slides behind the wheel of her shiny new Jag. She doesn't floor it, oh no. She starts up that smooth, purring engine and gently accelerates onto the road, minus headlights. At least not for a mile or two, but she's moving slowly enough that she hopes won't attract any attention. Bye-bye, Decepticons.

Needlenose finally goes back to leaning against the 'O', apparently 100% unconcerned about Reidan's presence. "So what brings you up here, lil' dude?" Needlenose wishes he had a cy-gar right now, because smoking one while leaning against the Hollywood sign would look Cool with a capital Powerglide.

Reidan Wesley lifts the reel. "Picking up some film for a friend," he explains casually. "Just a documentary really. I was hiking earlier and he asked me to pick it up. What about yourselves?" he asks, squinting in the dark at the two Nebulans.

Needlenose shrugs, "Y'know, hanging out. What, uh, what makes you think you can find film up here?" he asks, growing a little bit suspicious. "You were hiking, and then decided to look for some film... here?" Meanwhile, Zigzag returns and sees the situation. "Who's this asshole?"

Reidan Wesley raises an eyebrow and points to the building. "That is where they used to broadcast movies from. This one was sent up to test the old system for a kind of 'ye olden movie days' thing they're doing. My friend called me on my phone, knowing I hike up here, and asked me to stop and pick it up." He holds the reel he was carrying. Then he blinks at Zigzag.

Needlenose looks up towards the building. "Oh," he said. "I didn't know that. Sounds keen." At Zigzag's question, Needlenose shrugs, "He's... um... uh... who are you again?" he asks Reidan.

"Keen indeed," murmurs the human as he states, "Oh, just a human bystander who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm a cook down in the city," he explains simply with a gesture to Hollywood itself below. "No one of any real importance anymore."

Now it's Needlenose's turn to raise an optical ridge. "'Anymore'?" Zigzag folds his arms, already uninterested in this boring conversation.

"Well, we all have our moments to shine over the years of our lifetimes, or more than one lifetime," explains Reidan, tucking a hand into his pocket. "I'm not much more important than any other cook now."

Needlenose nods, "Don't wanna talk about it, huh? I hear ya." Needlenose glances down at Zigzag, "Wellllp, bout time we be hittin' the ol' dusty trail..."

"Probably for the best. We're not that far from the air base and they'll probably be here soon," notes Reidan. "And I'm late for dinner."

"Kay." Needlenose grabs Zigzag, hops into the sky, shifts into F-16 mode, and zips after Cackle.