Operation: Party the F--- Out



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Message: 15/1                     Posted        Author

Operation: Party The F--- Out     Thu Jan 19    Impactor

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Autobot spinny.

Impactor appears on the screen. "We're all going to be taking Wheeljack out to celebrate his return. Bring cash in small denominations."

Autobot spinny.

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Six Lasers - Planet XXX

Screw you guys, I'll build my own theme park! With hookers and blackjack! You know what, forget the theme park!

Technically a small asteroid, Planet XXX resides in the Six Lasers solar system's outer rim, tucked out of harm's way. A misshapen planetoid, this down and dirty attraction is usually not mentioned in the rest of the ads, as Six Lasers puts on a family friendly public front. Those interested will know where to find it.

The attractions themselves reside in a single domed fortress consisting of a docking bay with a discreet shuttle that arrives every hour, and the main entertainment area. Inside, the facilities resemble a crude strip joint, with all manner of exotic aliens and robots on display. Although the variety is immense, humanity's lack of a galactic presence has resulted in little in the way that a human would find sensual. It the very least it's amusing and/or gross. Planet XXX also has ready access to more liquor than anywhere in the system aside from Bar Moon. Shady dealings often take place here.

Contents:

Starfighter 

Monstereo

Stegosaurus 

Swindle

Mechanical Orthrus 

Sit-Com

Torque

Wheeljack

Blue Femme

Obvious exits:

Space  leads to Six Lasers Solar System.

Monstereo sticks an old Monstereo monster truck rally bumpersticker on the Blue Femme. "Yes, the rumors are true." He looks about the dome interior. "Dirty-dirty-dirty-dirty." He tsks.

The stego shifts, the front half twisting, the whole beast rising up, transforming into a robot form.

Foxfire has arrived.

Impactor kicks open the door tothe Planet XXX's strip joint with a loud bang before leading the other Autobots in. Stomping as he goes, he glares at all the patrons that have glanced up from their drinks (or viewing pleasure) due to the loud noise. The joint is really hopping, with aliens of all three genders (yeah that's right) dancing all over the place. The onlookers are a colourful, but sleasy bunch. There's a hazy smoke in the atmosphere, and waitresses and waiters with rather unsensible clothing go to and fro, taking care of people's orders. There's a live band off to one side playing really skivvy music. Impactor leads the team right up to the front before plunking down on a stool--one of many around the table. He snaps his fingers at one of the servers to get their attention.

Encore has arrived.

Blue Femme takes a seat by the bar, not noticing the new arrival.

Fusillade has arrived.

Blue Femme smiles as Fusillade enters and goes over to the bar.

The sleek bomber rears up, wings collapsing onto hips even as the rear fuselage splits to form arms. The horizontal stabilizer slides up, the forward fuselage folds up accordian style, and Fusillade hops up on thrustered feet.

Sinnertwin transforms into his robot mode. He's still hideous!

Snarl stands in the door way, looking at all the stuff going on inside the building. At least he's out of his alt mode.

Wheeljack rubs the back of his head as he follows Impactor's blunt and loud entrance. "Reminds me of the time Ironhide, Jazz and I had to check the few recreational depoys for ener-rod smugglers. Ol' Hide usually announced our arrival the same way," he comments to the other 'Bots before settling down on a stool. Wasn't expecting something so.. seedy, but hey, he's gotta socialize with the new comrades and all. "Appreciate you all taking time to help... reaquaint me with things though."

Foxfire bounds along after Impactor, taking care not to get stepped on. Sometimes being an itty bitty tapebot isn't so great. He flicks an ear at Wheeljack and chuckles. "Ironhide sounds like he was a lot of fun."

Encore appears to infact already be here when the others enter; he's at the bar chatting with two femmebots, probably dancers. "...supplying bars on four planets now. I've got three large-scale production stills back on Earth and I'm almost ready to build a third." He grins, and pulls from somewhere two vials of something that glows a shade of cherenkov blue. "Call these a gift to the house - already cleared by your boss. Knock 'em back and knock 'em dead, Lula, Suzi." He grins, patting the two of them on the hind as they depart.

Then the door is kicked open by Impactor and the big Autobot cheers "Impactor, yo! Lemme get you a round in!"


 * Impactor, guys!

Boomslang has arrived.

Blue Femme looks at Boomslang and chuckles.

Monstereo puts his mad-science goggles down over his optics as precaution for the ever present hazard of randomly vectored fluids flying. He takes a seat and says, "Abandon all sense ye who enter here." The glances under the table, takes out a wad of putty and a rat trap, and sticks the trap under the rim of the table amongst the wads of dried up chewing gum.

Boomslang has partially disconnected.

Boomslang says, "So that's how Planet XXX got its name? I always wondered," Boomslang is saying to Fusillade as he comes in and winks (or is it blinks? hard to tell with the patch) at the Blue Femme. "You must need a lot of fuel after that.""

Blue Femme smacks Hardcode Hack Helper  across the face for whatever reason.

Starfighter  and not long after Impactor enters the club, so follows Cyclonus of all people. "Normally I do not drink recreationally," he tells any Decepticons that happen to be with him, "but after four million years of hibernation, I suppose one or two couldn't hurt." He looks haggard for a moment, recalling what happened in the distant past. "And besides, I could *really* use it." As he walks inside, however, he catches sight of the Autobots, and his teeth gnash together audibly. "Nnngh. Nnnngh. Nnnnnngh! Damn them, Autobots everywhere!" he hisses.

"So that's how Planet XXX got its name? I always wondered," Boomslang is saying to Fusillade as he comes in and winks (or is it blinks? hard to tell with the patch) at the Blue Femme. "You must need a lot of fuel after that."

The space fighter's nosecone snaps back as its body flips upright. Arms and legs unfold from the wings and fuselage respectively, and a dour face emerges from the body, forming the robot mode of Cyclonus!

Cyclonus and not long after Impactor enters the club, so follows Cyclonus of all people. "Normally I do not drink recreationally," he tells any Decepticons that happen to be with him, "but after four million years of hibernation, I suppose one or two couldn't hurt." He looks haggard for a moment, recalling what happened in the distant past. "And besides, I could *really* use it." As he walks inside, however, he catches sight of the Autobots, and his teeth gnash together audibly. "Nnngh. Nnnngh. Nnnnnngh! Damn them, Autobots everywhere!" he hisses.

Swindle disembarks the shuttle with a large canister hooked on a strap over his shoulder. Glancing around quickly, he locates the, ah, /establishment/ that his sources inform him will be hosting the comeback party. Huhn, kinda sleazy, for a 'bot. Oh wait, there's Impactor, that explains it. With a cheerful grin, Swindle pushes open the door and waves a friendly hand. "Greetings, Femmes and Gentlemechs!"

Not many femmes are really known to come to these places unless it's their job, but Torque is an exception, not one to turn down a night out with booze. She trails behind the rest, removing her helmet and subspacing it while running a hand through her cable hair. "Hey, it's no problem, Wheeljack. What better way t' start you off amongst the living than with a night of drinks and enertainment?" She chuckles while hopping up on a stool and leaning forward on her elbows, rattling off an order of some sort of dark stout to the waiter that Impactor gets the attention of.

Snarl looks around the room again, taking note of those with purple faces, and those with red faces. He notices the one familiar figure, and makes his way in, heading for where WHeeljack is sitting

Fusillade glides along, keeping a watchful optic on Impactor and Wheeljack. She raises a forearm coated in UV-reactive green, blue, and gold paint, and mutters in reply to Boomslang, "You have NO idea." She catches Cyclonus's comment, and flashes a wicked grin in his direction. "You shoulda gotten some decorative paint before coming in here!" She shouts over the band to the Seeker, "Urgh, this is totally not the right music for dancing, EITHER!" She struts over to the bandstand with a flourish of eyespot-covered wingblades, and settles down next to the DJ, jutting out one hip and pointing a golden toe. "Hey, think you can spare a few of those tentacles to get some electronic vibes up here?"

Once the waiter comes over, Impactor gestures around the table. "Round of energon shots for everyone." He points at Encore. "He'll tell you what type." Encore probably knows best about this sort of thing. Impactor grunts and nods along with Foxfire. "Didn't get to talk too much with him, but yeah he seemed like a pretty stand-up guy." The waiter starts to head off, but Impactor stops him. "Aw, hell, lets start this off right. Better make it two rounds. We'll keep ya updated once we need more."

The part where you have to wait for the drinks to show up is terribad, so Impactor makes the best of it with some light talk. "Yeah, we're here for ya, Jack. Last thing we want is for you to go through all the trouble of surviving against all odds, and have us not put in the effort to recognize it." As the Decepticons make their entrance, Impactor grins in an almost (but not really) friendly way. "Hey Cyc... come to celebrate Jack's return with us?"

"I always thought the XXX stood for EXTREME or something," Sinnertwin says as he enters the sleazy bar with the other Decepticons. Unlike Cyclonus, the first thing that catches his eye aren't the Autobots but a really ugly stripper that somehow managed to talk her way into the job. "WOAH! Someone lend me some money, I need to make it rain on that ho."

Boomslang looks around for something. "Where's Swindle? He always has a fat bankroll."

Sit-Com takes a seat near his Junkion compatriot, also sporting a protective optic band. He peers under the table and thumbs' up at the trap. "Won't need to tuck our pantlegs into our socks," he says.

Boomslang transforms his pockets inside out with a chattering noise, and a single Insecticon flies out. "I spent all mine on missiles."

Fanfare has arrived.

Blue Femme smiles as Fanfare enters and goes over to the bar.

Cyclonus grimaces at Fusillade. "Paint myself? Really, my dear, that's going too far. I'm here for the drinks, not the... *frivolity.*" He glances back at Sinnertwin, then the stripper he's interested in. "Hm, well, I didn't realize you preferred males, Sinnertwin." That didn't sound like a joke. Then, it's Cyclonus, so who knows? "Very well. Swindle! Lend Sinnertwin some money. As for myself--"

He gets a closer look at the Autobot table. He hears what Impactor says. He looks right at the fully operational Wheeljack. "Wha--what!? Wheeljack lives!? No! This is some sort of Autobot treachery! Who are you really, 'Wheeljack?' I demand to know!"

Encore orders a round for all the AUutobots, sauntering over to their table with a tray loaded with a veritable rainbow of enershine. "Hey guys. Welcome back, Wheeljack!" He grins, taking a seat and trailing enercigar smoke. "Didn't 'spect you guys to come 'ere, but if Pac's arranging everything I'm hardly surprised." He laughs. "Grab a drink, we've got Cherenkov Sparkle, Green Smile, Mellow yellow..." he reels off a series of colour-related drink names, grinning. Cherenkov Blue is the same stuff he palmed to the dancers.

Sinnertwin sidles up to the Swindle all friendly like and throws an arm around his shoulders. "Yeah,help out a fellow transforming limb and lend me a couple bucks? I swear I'll get it back to you," he says with a smile that would make Gary Busey cry.

Sit-Com plays the theme to "Welcome Back, Kotter" over his wrist-TV.

Wheeljack chuckles as he reachs over to pat Foxfire on the head lightly. "A bit cranky, but the guy -did- have to put up with the lot of us. And Prowl. Oh man, he'd give Prowl smeg for thinking too much with his logic processors and not enough with his emotion chips."

He glances over a shoulder for the moment as Impactor calls to the Decepticons. Squints slightly at Cyclonus and Fusillade, but then gets distracted by hearing a more familiar voice. "... Oh great, why am I not surprised to see Swindle here."

Then shifts attention back to the others, responding to the outburst with a cheery little wave. "Happy to see you four million years and a few centuries later, too." Seriously, just that surprised reaction makes this trip worth it.

Fanfare has left.

Snarl is a shadow beside Wheeljack, standing taller than most. He turns his gaze toward Cyclonus, "Him Wheeljack! Me know him my maker! Me say you SIT down and drink! Or me get upset!"

Monstereo nods to Sit-Com. "Preventative maintanance. Only you can prevent forest fires." Monsy considers the selection of drinks, shuts his optics, and chooses randomly. He then head-swivels around seeing the Decepticons. "Be cool, Tri-Lams... The Alphas are here."

Torque's antennas twitch a little when the Decepticons enter the joint, her head turning to spot them. She can't help grinning at Cyclonus' surprise though, chuckling lightly, "It's him alright!" She turns her attention back to the Bots, eyeing Encore when he lists off the drinks. "Cherenkov Sparkle? That a new one, Encore? I'll have to try some of it then an' find out what it does." The femme smirks, relaxing in her seat while waiting for the drinks.

"Not even some glowing Decepticon purple to show your allegience to the cause? I'll ask again after the fourth round," Fusillade smirks, but doesn't press the commander, seeing him drink in public was enough of a rarity that she dared not put him off of it. She turns to see what Boomslang and Sinnertwin are going on about, and whoas, "Dayumn! It's the Cyber-Clermont, where robo-strippers go to die! I wonder if she can crush enercubes between her..." She tilts her head as she catches sight of the rounds getting slung about by Impactor and Encore. "Nnn, probably Autobots only," she remarks, before bellying up to the bar and rapping her knuckles on the counter for her usual warmup of white energon shot through avgas.

Encore nodnods with a grin. Surrepticiously - trying to hide it from the Decepticons - he hands around capped vials containing a single shot of something that glows a faint, malicious red, shot through with tiny black sparkles. "If anything kicks off, knock that back, it'll getcher in the mood, if you know what I mean." He grins, taking for himself the azure Green Smile blend. He takes a sip of it and grins "So how you takin to not bein' dead?"

"Ugh, so that's the guy we have to thank for the Dinobots? Is he going to start making more of the things? Because if so somebody needs to nip that in the bud," Boomslang says with a frown, looking around Fusillade's wings at the flashy-ear guy.

Sit-Com also grabs a randomized drink and sips at it. When he looks upon it, it is yellow. But the taste is delicious so he shrugs and chugs. "Cheers," he says to Monstereo.

Out of the corner of his optic, Impactor spies Fusillade cozying up to the DJ. She better not pick something god-awful. Really, anything not composed on Earth should be fine. His grin remains as Cyclonus makes his approach and demands an explanation for how Wheeljack is still alive. Impactor for one doesn't give him the satisfaction of explaining. He'll let Jack and Snarl have the pleasure of torturing Cyclonus. Besides, He's too busy checking out the Cherenkov Sparkle. "What's a Cherenkov?" he asks along with Torque. Spying Cons up at the bar, he elbows Torque. "Wonder how long before Fusillade's up there," he jerks his thumb at the stage.

Swindle's attention is fixed on the guest of honour before Sinnertwin snaps him out of his thoughts by asking for a loan. He never even noticed the arm across his shoulders. "Huh? Oh, yeah, sure." He passes Sinnertwin a medium-sized wad of credits, muttering, "that's twenty percent interest per earth week. Don't make me collect." He moves quickly on, shrugging Sinnertwin's arm off before any objections can arise. Sidling up towards Wheeljack, he drops a hand upon the Autobot's shoulder and comments with a grin, "Well, I'd heard about you. Must be weird to be back from the dead, eh?"

Fusillade swears into her drink, blowing bubbles and sending some of it over the lip of the energy cube at Boomslang's comment. "When you put it like that..." she shoots a glowwer in Snarl and Wheeljack's direction. "Geeze."

Be vewy vewy quiet, there are Dinobots about. Snarl turns his gaze to the drinks, "Me not sure." He turns to look at the 'cons at the bar, "Me hope there not fight." Yet, it's likely the bot would appreciate a good tussle

Cyclonus glowers at the Autobots, then... slowly eases himself down into a seat. "Unh. *Fine.* Here I believed I would have a chance to relax, but instead it seems I will be drinking a toast in honor of the return of one of our most hated enemies. Dreadwind was right after all--life is cruel." He raises a finger, and booms imperiously, "Bartender! Bring me your finest drink, whatever it is. I care not to remember what they are called."

As he waits, Cyclonus glowers some more. "No, Fusillade, I'm not that drunk, nor do I intend to be." Though that could change anyway... "Hrnnn. So. You're back. How ever did you manage to do it, Wheeljack? Some bit of mad science, no doubt? And... also, aren't you Autobots supposed to respect the dead or some notion of that nature? And yet, here you are, reviving them at a whim."

Monstereo postures, "Mad science, you say? Is there any other kind? Bah! I'll have no part in any weaker way." He raises his drink in toast. "SCIENCE!"

"She can probably crush my head with those," Sinnertwin says almost dreamily. "Both of them." As soon as Swindle slaps the cash in his hand his optics widen and he starts to wave it around over his head yelling "BIG MONEY!" There's a good chance he didn't hear Swindle's comment about interest. Or maybe he did. Either way, Swindle's not getting that money back.

"I'll have the cheapest thing on the menu!" the Terrorcon bellows, slamming a hand on the bartop. "No, make that twelve of the cheapest thing on the menu! I got the cash to back it up."

Torque snatches up the somewhat large tankard of brew once it's delivered to the table for her, the dense, dark violet liquid inside looking none-too friendly as she hefts it up and takes a long pull. After a good few mouthfuls she sets the glass back down, licking her lips and glancing at Impactor when he nudges her. "Heh, hopefully not before me. But I suppose that depends on how drunk you want me to get." She snorts softly, eyeing the shots of Cherenkov Sparkle now in front of her. Better to leave those for a little later.

Encore grins to Impactor "Cherenkov is the radiation light when a particle breaks local lightspeed. It's like an optic sonic boom, and it's the same shade of blue as that drink. It's a new blend I've perfected." He grins, taking a deep pull of his cigar. "Good stuff, it's got a really refreshing flavour. Peps you up and enhances the creativity, too, and it's pretty potent." He sips his Green Smile and sighs happily

Wheeljack wobbles a hand back and forth a little at Cyclonus. "Time mechanics are a wibbly wicket like that. You're better off just enjoying your drink and not thinking too hard about it." Like he's going to tell the Decepticons how it happened, it'd just give them ideas! Then snickers a bit at the Dinobot's outburst. "Good ol' Snarl." Leans over to murmur to Torque. "Never hurts to have a Dinobot around in case you need someone to play bouncer." He sits up and takes the shot glass, holding it up to peer at it for a moment. Raises an optic ridge slowly. "I can't even tell what the chemical mixture of what this is... but then I guess that'd just take the fun out of it!" He laughs as someone calls out toast to SCIENCE! as Encore gives a really technobabbly sounding explaination. "Now that I can drink to!" And slugs back the shot.. somehow. Maybe those really are grates in his mouth panel after all.

"Well, Swindle," he replies to the Combaticon afterwards, "if anyone would know remotely how it feels, eh? Yer troop spent nearly as long in solitary stasis, didn't ya."

"I'll have two of the cheapest thing on the menu and he's paying!" Boomslang adds, yelling over Sinnertwin, who is shorter.

Sit-Com takes the red pill, errr red drink, and sips at it. He pounds his chest with one fist twice. "AH!" he exclaims, "Tastes great!"

Impactor had intended just to get Wheeljack wasted as a means of celebrating, but now they have the chance to brag about it to the Decepticons. Bonus! Thus, Impactor smiles every time Swindle or Cyclonus talks to him. The Wrecker glances over his shoulder back at the stage at She Who Can Crush Sinnertwin's Heads. Dayam, no way is that legal. "Anyone would an improvement over this one," she tells Torque. To Encore, Impactor gives a blank look as heh ears the description. It isn't until the 'pretty potent' part that he actually nods in agreement. After instinctively raising his glass along with Wheeljack, he asks Encore: "Don't you have any budget brews?"

Monstereo wags a finger of his free hand at Sit-Com. "...Less filling."

Sit-Com glowers at Monstereo evenly. "TASTES GREAT!"

Monstereo rises to it and barks, "LESS FILLING!"

Sit-Com's hand reaches for the drink and picks up the yellow one. He gulps it down in one shot and looks remarkably calmer.

Darkwing has arrived.

Monstereo pounds a fist against Sit-Com's shoulder all manly like and barks, "Rabbit Season!"

Sit-Com says, "DUCK SEASON! FIRE!"

Wheeljack stops and peers over his shoulder at the two robots at the other table. Then turns to nudge Torque with his elbow, then nods in the direction of Monstereo and Sit-Com. "What's with the two bots over there rattling off old Terran advertising slogans?" What? He remembers a little old earth culture. Probably used Teletran one to pirate TV signals to watch cheesy old B-movies too.

Cyclonus glares at Wheeljack as he doesn't bother explaining it. Well, that's fine. He'll ask again--when you've had a few more drinks. Of course, Cyclonus won't drink nearly as much... or that's the plan. Eventually, a waitress brings him the drink he wanted, and Cyclonus raises the glass to his lips and downs it all in one go. "Do you... want another?" the waitress asks, but Cyclonus waves her off. Stick to the plan.

"Well, I see," Cyclonus says. "At least we did not have to suffer the worst-case scenario--which would be Optimus Prime returning." He grimaces. "Or Starscream. I can almost imagine you Autobots reviving him simply to inflict us with calamities."

Either Swindle will get that money back, or he'll get equivalent value. Favours can be valuable. So can spare parts. Not that Swindle'll /ever/ encourage coersion or assault, naturally. At Wheeljack's comment, Swindle nods his head soberly. "True, true. And, may I say, I look forward to an opporunity to discuss weapons theory with you at some future point, But for the meantime..." his grin expands into a smile as he saunters over to the bar and thuds the large canister of Swindlebrau he's been carrying down onto the bartop. "Anyone wants one of these, it's on me."

Monstereo obliges, picking up a shot and downing it. He falls back into his seat.

"I would shank him the first night," Boomslang mutters. "He'd never make it out of the showers."

Dead End has arrived.

A few minutes after placing his order, Sinnertwin is presented with a tray of twelve shots. They're filled to the brim with mucky, brown water and a few of them appear to have small organisms swimming around in them. If Sinnertwin was a little more perceptive he would realize that this is the same stuff he saw in a puddle outside, but he's not, so he grabs one and tosses it (glass and all) into his mouth. After he swallows he slams both fists on the counters and gasps. "NECTAR OF THE GODS!" He grabs the tray and dumps the rest of the shots into his gaping maw.

Wheeljack snorts. "Oh, puh-lease. Like we'd want to have to deal with Starscream afterwards."

Encore shrugs at Impactor "That's what the mass-produced bollocks is for, isn't it? I'm like the small local whiskey brewer on Earth; I'm a relatively small-scale operation, really." He grins "I make the stuff for the conneseurs, ya know?" He smirks at the two downing it, looking back over his shoulder at Swindle "Tender! Get the Con a tankard of Mellow Yellow on me, and pass me one of them Swindlebraus"

Loadout has arrived.

Fusillade swirls her drink thoughtfully. "It's like oil and water up in here," she complains at the groups not mingling, before finishing it off. She turns toward Swindle, and hmms thoughtfully at the canister. "Got five more and some frosty set of cubes? I'll pose with them if you wanted a photo op." Her jaw clenches at the discussion of Starscream, but she ahems, and fixes Swindle with an inquisitive expression, awaiting his answer.

"I do like a frosty set of cubes," Boomslang chimes in, brightening up.

"Like I said, I'll have to be plenty drunk to get up there." Torque grins wryly before downing a few more heavy swigs of her dark drink, not showing any signs of innebriation yet. "Hmm?" She perks up at Wheeljack's question, glancing at the two junk-bots. "Oh, they're Junkions, allies of the Bots. Their whole culture is pretty much based off of old Earth broadcasts they managed to pick up. They're a decent lot though." She smiles before picking up the Cherenkov Sparkle, downing both shots in quick succession. Almost immediatly her antennas perk, optics brightening. "Wow! I gotta say, Encore, you make brewing an art. This stuff /really/ wakes you up."

Encore bows towards Torque "I try."

Snarl looms behind Wheeljack, as it seems to be a good place to stand. He sees the people drinking various things, a bit confused, and considering transforming to his alt-mode

Dead End roams in, hoping for a nice, relaxing night "on the town"... or in his case, of wallowing in the senselessness of it all. He pauses in his tracks upon noticing all the Autobots, then simply sighs and sulks his way over to the bar. He shoulda figured nothing could ever be nice and peaceful.

Wheeljack gulps down the second shot with little trouble. "We coulda used a good distiller back in the old days!" Pauses, cocking his head thoughtfully. "... Then again, maybe not. Ratchet would drink it all when he wasn't working on putting the rest of us back together, hahaha!"

Monstereo can't seem to keep his aft glued to his seat, because he springs back up again as Torque describes his people to the resurrected Autobot and declares another toast, "To TEE-VEE, baby, YEAH!" His hand slams down on the table top as he takes another shot.

Darkwing enters the bar, and signs seeing it full of life. He scans the crowd and comes across a 'new'

Wheeljack gulps down the second shot with little trouble. "We coulda used a good distiller back in the old days!" Pauses, cocking his head thoughtfully. "... Then again, maybe not. Ratchet would drink it all when he wasn't working on putting the rest of us back together, hahaha!" Followed by.. well, he's got not mouth to smile with, but you can see the amused flicker in his blue optics as he replies to Torque. "They sound like they'd get right along with Jazz and Blaster."

Darkwing enters the bar, and signs seeing it full of life. He scans the crowd and comes across a 'new' face; that of Wheeljack. "Oh great, another Autobot that we can't kill. And yet Galvatron thinks this war is winnable? I don;t see how, when under his watch we seemed to have more Autobot rivals then deaths..."

Impactor glances in the Junkions' direction and then back to Wheeljack. Truth be told, he's conditioned himself to tune out anything a Junkion says. "Junkion. One of the long lost Autobot tribes. They're kinda idiots." Impactor shrugs, liking his explanation better than Boomslang's. At Cyclonus's comment, Impactor arches an optical brow. "What makes ya think we didn't, Cyc? Maybe we're just waiting to spring him on you when ya least expect it." He doesn't specific Starscream or Optimus. Hopefully whichever is more terrifying will enter Cyclonus's mind. To Encore, he glances at Swindle and his Swindlebrau. "Speaking of the mass-produced bollocks stuff..." Impactor prefers a snobby drink over a Decepti-drink any day.

Sinnertwin throws a handful of bills at the barkeep because actually sitting there and counting out the correct amount takes way too much time and brain power. Besides, it's not like it's his money anyway. When Dead End comes up to the bar, he starts shoving money in his face. "Buy something! My treat! Us combiners need to stick together right!? Just make sure to buy something I like."

Sit-Com grabs a green shot and chugs it down. "You put the lime in the coconut and drink it all up," he says, "Gonna have some fun, show you how it's done, TGIF."

Dead End eyes Sinnertwin, then looks at the currency, then back to Sinnertwin. After further thought, he takes it. Knowing Sinnertwin, it's not even his money, but that's not Dead End's problem, "I'll take whatever'll numb the pain." he gestures at the bartender, "Anything's fine."

Swindle opens his mouth to reply to Fusillade and then closes it again, looking thoughtful. "Five more... drinks, or canisters?" He asks carefully. "'Cause it could be done, either way... we'd need a professional photographer, like Reflector." He trails off, thinking. "You know, we might even be able to put together a calendar."

Loadout is suddenly here. Which is really the -last- place he ever wanted to be...what with in the middle of a drinking establishment full of those who are getting sauced up to their eyeball-equivelants. The smell on the air is an assault on his olfactory sensors and the sight of so many beings...inebriated brings no small amount of nightmares to Loadout's mind. All of them involving some sort of horribly huge mess, no doubt.

But he has no choice. Returning from attending an intergalactic technology seminar, this was the most convenient stopoff point as he knew he could 'link up' with the Autobot party and catch a ride home from there. Although as his optic visor pans over the collected gathering that's getting drunker by the minute, he's starting to wonder if this was a wise choice.

Snarl starts moving for the door, twisting and transforming into his stego form, tail swishing. He doesn't understand drinking stuff, and how to be friendly around 'cons

The bot's middle twists, arms rotating, legs, head and tail popping out to reveal a stego

Monstereo actually starts paying attention to the tunes and looks around. Not good enough in his book as something is missing... "Pump up the volume, pump up the volume, pump up the volume - Dance! Dance!" He cartwheels over to the amplifier system and takes out his Sonic Rifle. A little antenae pops out the top of the butt of his rifle and taps into the network... you can tell by the flickering glow of the little beady nub atop the antenae... his rifle starts pumping out the tunes even louder! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sFZjqVnWBhc

Encore sniffs a bit "Don't knock the Swindlebrau, it's pretty good, for something Con-made." He laughs, taking his cube of the Swindlebrau and having a sip. "Don't knock it till you try it; I can respect the scrap-head as a brewer." He grins, stubbing out his enercig. He looks at Wheeljack critically, then with some ceremony, pulls an ornate Humidor from somewhere. It's cut from the metal-wood of a Cybertronian tree, and looks extremely old. Its faded logo is a red Autobot logo superimposed on a blue V. He takes one of the metal tubes within and offers it to Wheeljack. "Reckon comin' back from the dead is a pretty big thing, and the fat lady's singin on that little adventure." He says, solemnly. Its a Suicide Jocky ritual; after a successful mission or adventure, they smoke a Victory Dance.

As for who would terrify Cyclonus more... probably Starscream, because he's shuddering at the harm he'd cause even within seconds of coming back online. Instead of replying to Impactor, he puts his glass under the tap for the Swindlebrau. "Hm. I suppose I shall try it." Glancing to the entrance, he spies Darkwing and Dead End entering. "Ah. As if my mood wasn't dark enough."

"WOAH! Check out the fatty over there!" Sinnertwin laughs, pointing at the lumbering stegosaur. "I bet he's going outside to eat stuff. You know, because he's fat?" He grins to himself. Primus he is clever.

Dead End rolls his eyes at Sinnertwin's joke, but says nothing. He pulls the drink close and takes a sip. It's going to be one of those nights, he just knows it.

Torque tips back the other half of her dark brew as the others talk, downing it in only a few seconds as if she's pouring straight down her throat. Which she is. A resounding thud of the thick glass against the table signals she's finished, the femme holding a fist to her mouth to stiffle a small belch. "Hey, Encore. Gimme some of your strongest stuff, yeah? And more of that Sparkle. I'm not gonna skimp on the credits tonight." She looks over to the jockey, grinning and planning to get thoroughly wasted tonight.

"Loadout!" Impactor calls. "I can't believe you made it. Huh, I figured you were going to find some other way home." He reaches over one table and grabs a stool for him. "Go ahead and plop yourself down." He glances behind him again. "Actually... maybe you oughta get up there on stage. That femme's lookin' kinda lonely." Good timing, too, as Monstereo just kicked the music up into high gear.

He looks to his left. "Encore, could we get another Cherenov Sparkle for Loadout here?" Or whatever it was. "I'll stick with that over the Swindlebrau, thanks." This is pride talking. The idea that the Decepticons are better at something as brewing is a terrible thought. As Snarl makes his exit and Sinnertwin calls him out, the Wrecker tries to mentally will Snarl to kill Sinnertwin. C'mon, Dinobot. You know you wanna.

Loadout's optic visor pulses once as the stool is offered, "I well, uh..." He can't believe he's here too? Yeah, but he doesn't voice -that- part, instead scooting up to the offered seat and eventually plunking himself down on it again. "Ah, yes well, thank you for the offer..." he raises both hands at the mention of the drink. "But uh, I'll pass. Thank you. I don't indulge in...overenergizing. Particularly given that I hardly ever need to...well, re-energize nowadays."

Stegosaurus  stops at the threshold, when he hears the comment from Sinnertwin. His gaze moves toward the con, eyes narrowing, "Me no fatty!" His path veers toward Sinnertwin, growling

Boomslang keeps his eye on Loadout. He's notably not drinking, he just wanted to help Sinnertwin spend his money. He's just holding the drink and making sure that when the other Decepticons get sloppy there's someone mission-minded around. Or someone to take advantage, either way.

Fusillade purses bronze lips at Swindle, and shrugs. "Canisters, if you MUST get the label in the image. And I'm shocked at your sudden pickiness when it comes to lighting conditions, Swindle, maybe we've managed to make an artist out of you after all." She rolls shoulders back, and with a haughty toss of her head, knocks back the entire keg style canister before crushing it against the prow of her helmet. She perks at the change in music, "But if you will excuse me, things just went from frat to discotheque, and my name is is in lights."

Toward Sinnertwin and Snarl, she cat-calls, "Try not to make out unless you're on the dancefloor, you lil' love-petrobunnies, hah!"

Monstereo dances by the sound system and starts swiveling his rifle around, sending 'good vibrations' through any in the path of the waves. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x84m3YyO2oU

Wheeljack's optics brighten as the humidor is passed over, taking it between two fingers like it was a fragile component. "By Trion's metal bear, I haven't seen one of -those- ages either. Didn't think they'd even make them these days." He stuffs the mouth end in one of the grates in his 'mouth'. "Aaah, now this is starting to feel like old times... with strange music. Those guys would -really- get along with Blaster if they play tunes like tha--"

He stops and turns a bit to look over as Sinntertwin calls Snarl names. ".. That's not a very bright fellow, is that?"

"Loadout, Loadout, Loadout," Impactor tsks. "You came all the way over to Planet XXX and you're /not/ going to drink or dance with us? That's... culturally insensitive." He gestures at the fine, fine femme on stage. "You're disrespecting her culture, Loadout. Isn't it the Autobot way to be diplomatic?" The femme gives big pouty lips and puppy dog eyes. "See?" Impactor says. The femme beckons Loadout to get up on stage with her.

Sinnertwin makes a disgusted face at Fusillade. "No way I'd make out with this fat beast! He'd probably eat me!" He turns back to the approaching Snarl and grins, "Oh yeah. You ARE fat! Fattest thing I've ever seen, and I've seen the world's fattest man! Guy looks like a skeleton next to you." He throws his arms out, "YOU'RE SOOOO FAT THAT, uhm.." Sinnertwin taps his chin in thought. "..You are fat."

Combat: Monstereo strikes Torque with his Monstereo's Good Vibrations (Full-Auto) Area attack! [Pulled -2]

Combat: Monstereo strikes Fusillade with his Monstereo's Good Vibrations (Full-Auto) Area attack! [Pulled -2]

Combat: Monstereo strikes Foxfire with his Monstereo's Good Vibrations (Full-Auto) Area attack! [Pulled -2]

Combat: Monstereo misses Impactor with his Monstereo's Good Vibrations (Full-Auto) Area attack! [Pulled -2]

Combat: Monstereo (Monstereo) used "Full-Auto": A Level 0 AREA-RANGED attack.

Combat: Monstereo misses Wheeljack with his Monstereo's Good Vibrations (Full-Auto) Area attack! [Pulled -2]

Combat: Monstereo misses Boomslang with his Monstereo's Good Vibrations (Full-Auto) Area attack! [Pulled -2]

Combat: Monstereo strikes Swindle with his Monstereo's Good Vibrations (Full-Auto) Area attack! [Pulled -2]

Combat: Monstereo strikes Loadout with his Monstereo's Good Vibrations (Full-Auto) Area attack! [Pulled -2]

Combat: Monstereo strikes Sinnertwin with his Monstereo's Good Vibrations (Full-Auto) Area attack! [Pulled -2]

Combat: Monstereo strikes Encore with his Monstereo's Good Vibrations (Full-Auto) Area attack! [Pulled -2]

Combat: Monstereo strikes Sit-Com with his Monstereo's Good Vibrations (Full-Auto) Area attack! [Pulled -2]

Combat: Monstereo misses Darkwing with his Monstereo's Good Vibrations (Full-Auto) Area attack! [Pulled -2]

Combat: Monstereo misses Dead End with his Monstereo's Good Vibrations (Full-Auto) Area attack! [Pulled -2]

Combat: Monstereo strikes Stegosaurus  with his Monstereo's Good Vibrations (Full-Auto) Area attack! [Pulled -2]

Cyclonus was just about to open the tap when Fusillade grabs the entire keg and chugs it down. He gives a weary sigh, propping his head up on a palm as he slumps over the table. "No, no he is not. It's quite alright, I care not if Snarl kills him."

Dead End takes another careful swig from his glass. It's foul, but it'll get the job done. Something's been nagging at him from the moment he stepped in... no, not the fact that there's a bunch of autobots hanging out, but something else. Something very... wrong. Glancing over his shoulder, the stuntion gazes long and hard at Wheeljack and in a very flat, blunt tone calls over, "Hey, you, Autobot... aren't you dead?" Just then he's knocked off his stool by gunfire x.x

Sit-Com is hit by the dancing bug! He starts dancing uncontrollably!

Stegosaurus  comes up to SInnertwin and bumps him, "ME NO FATTY, FATTY!" He shifts, swishing his tail, growling, "Me will stomp you!" He sweeps around to smash the stool from under Sinnertwin

Cyclonus is apparently immune to good vibrations, and remains in his seat.

Dead End climbs back up on his stool, "WHAT THE HECK?!"

Encore takes the humidor back and flicks out his lighter, igniting the equally-old frame. "I got sources." He says, with a grin. "Enjoy, Wheeljack. We'll share 'em when the fat lady sings to us." He chuckles, looking over at Monstereo. He resists the urge to stand up and dance, tapping a foot instead and taking another swig of his enershine. "Nice to meet a bot who's not averse to taking the Dance

Combat: Monstereo expertly repairs Cyclonus's injuries.

Combat: Monstereo is able to repair some of Cyclonus's internal systems damage.

Sit-Com nods at Monstereo, saying in an old-skool Battlestar Galactica (1979) Cylon voice, "By your command."

Loadout is in stubborn mode in an instant, arms crossing over his chest. "Absolutely not, Impactor!" He doesn't have optics that he can narrow, but his visor does pulse a bit faster as he frowns just slightly. "You're exactly right on one thing. I am -not- a diplomat, I am a technician and a medic..." And mobile artillery, but you'll never hear him admit to -that-, will you? "...I'm just here to catch the shuttle home with the rest of you. Speaking of which, who is going to be flying it ba..." And then his whole body starts vibrating somewhat...as if of its own accord. His optic visor pulses suddenly in alarm, before he CLAMPS down hard on the table in front of him to hold himself in place. "...d...do you m...m...MIND!?" he calls out in the Junkion's direction.

Swindle shrugs slightly as Fusillade downs her drink. "In certain things, I'm something of a perfectionist." Oh, She's gone. "We'll talk later," he calls after her as she heads for the dance floor. He frowns slightly, then starts to tap his foot as the beat catches up to him. Then he's rapping the bartop in time to the music. He's not dancing, yet, but he /is/ annoying the bartender.

"Yeah you'll stomp me. Kinda hard for fatties to not stomp on people, gahahahahaAUGH!" Sinnertwin hits the ground with a loud thud as the stool he was sitting on suddenly disappears from under him. He scrambles up onto his feet and brushes himself off with the back of a hand. "Hmpth, fine. I'll prove to you that you're a fat tub of lard. Everyone knows fatties can't dance!" The Terrorcon starts to wave his arms and jump around like he's having some kind of neurological fit. Apparently this is how Terrorcons dance. Or maybe just Sinnertwin. "That's right, FATSO! I'm challenging you too.."

He slams his foot down and poses like a figure skater. "A DANCE OFF! If you refuse, you are fat."

Wheeljack has spent time around Blaster and Jazz. The 'good vibrations' don't phase him in the least. He picks up his drink and turns to lean back on the bar, proping one leg over the other to tap a foot a bit along with the music while puffing on the cyber-cig. And Snarl looks about ready to pick a fight with his would-be bullier. "Yeah, now this is -just- like the old days."

"Ooooo," the femme on stage says to Loadout. "I bet you have a surgeon's servos."

Impactor grins at her. "Oh yeah, he's a real soft touch kind of guy." He looks back at Loadout. "Everyone in this joint's going to be disappointed with you if you don't, Loadout. Hmm... maybe you just need to pull some back before you're ready." He looks to Encore. "Hey, what's the best you got? The... something red, was it?" He points at Loadout. By 'best' of course he means 'awesome', and by 'awesome' of course he means 'potent'. Out of the corner of his optic, he's watching Snarl beat the you know what out of Sinnertwin. Wait.. what? Dance off?!!?!

"Dance him into oblivion!" Boomslang calls to Sinnertwin, cheering him on. "Pop and lock him into a smoking hole in the ground!"

Strobe lights begin lighting up the floor in time with the beats, alternating blue and white, before shifting over to a green and yellow firestorm of beams. "Ah, that's more like it," Fusillade purrs out. First one shoudler drops. Then the second, accompanied with a supple flex of her torso. Fusillade sways, alternating single hipshakes with a double side-bump on every third syncopated beat. She weaves to the center of the dancefloor. Someone crams a double-tall of Cherenkov Blue in her palm, and she takes a deep waft of it, before sucking down its tartness. With a whoop, she dashes the container to the ground, sending bits glittering across the ground as it dissipates and blinks out of sight. As the first bridge of the song begins to crescendo, she raises her wrists, swirling hands about her head and decorating herself in her glow-light motions.

Monstereo winks through his goggles at Loadout and makes a note to keep the swivel of his gun away from them now.... and then at the announced dance off challenge, he switches the tune over http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YZCYpkWj6Z4

Stegosaurus  looks at Sinnertwin, then at his pose, snorts, "Me see you no stay on feets when me knock chair away! Me not sure you no want to dance versus me!" His gaze goes to the various bots and cons that seem to be pressing the contest

Encore chuckles quietly an nods "I'm an old-school bot, Wheeljack. I got froze before Optimus left for Earth, Matrix rest hi spark." He sniffs,taking another swig of his cigar He looks over at Impactor "You mean for when it's time to Dance with the Cons? Yeah, you should have a shot of the stuff. It's the little vial that looks evil."

As he speaks, he pulls his own vial of Red Rage Fighting Juice. "It's Red Rage... gets the sparks flowing! If you mean something that won't get you in the vibe for a dance off, there's Solar Red"

"Y'all two'd better catch up!" Fusillade calls to Sinnertwin and Snarl.

"Yes, Loadout, have a few drinks," Cyclonus says. "Besides, even I've had... one." He pauses, mouth making a thin line. "Hm. Or maybe that should be two. WAITER!" He raises his finger again as he bellows, and the waitress returns. "The same thing I had before," he says, and she nods and shuffles away. Then Sinnertwin challenges Snarl to a dance-off, and Cyclonus sneers to himself. "*Please* kill him..." he mutters.

Loadout has reconnected.

Wheeljack .. remembers the last time he tried to have Dinobots dance. "... I hope this place has its insurance paid up."

Dead End orders himself another drink and watches the scene unfold. No sense getting involved, or even near that train wreck.

"You gon' get served!" Sit-Com calls out to Sinnertwin.

Sinnertwin points at Snarl and laughs. "HA! SEE! YOU FORFEIT! That means you are.." He points at him with the other hand and wiggles his hips, singing, "fat fat fatty fat fat fatty fat!"

"You know, it's probably better this way. Wouldn't want to embarass you infront of your robo-dad over there," Sinnertwin says, tilting his head towards Wheeljack. Sinnertwin pirouettes his way to the dancefloor like a pro.

Loadout still has that stubborn look and arms crossed over his chest posture (the vibrations have thankfully worn off now) that can only come from the truly geeky refusing to budge on his morals. "Then they'll have be disappointed, Impactor. I may not necessarily -approve- of the fact that some of you engage in imbibing chemical compositions that I would consider unsafe under the best of circumstances, but I've never attempted to stop you from doing it. I only ask some consideration in return for..." And then apparently a danceoff is going on, or something along those lines because there's strobing lights and heavy music, and he just clamps his hands over his audials somewhat. "Ooooh Primus I should have taken a public shuttle afterall..."

Monstereo lifts a leg and starts spinning and counter spinning his wheel like he was scratching a record DJ style as the sounds fill the club and resound near and far. The energy is tangable, vibrating sensors and setting fuel pumps in synch to the beat.

Swindle snaps his fingers, strangely in time with the music, as he comments, "Shoulda thought of /that/ for New Year's." Filling a Swindlebrau(tm) glass from an unrelated pump for some reason, he drifts over to the Bots' table and pulls himself up a seat from another table. Sitting down as if without a care in the world, he raises his glass vaguely towards the 'Bots and sips at it as he watches the action.

Dead End, without even bothering to offer a glance, gestures over his shoulder in Loadout's direction, "What are you, their programmer?"

Stegosaurus  blinks, "ME NO GIVE UP!" As Sinnertwin spins to the dance floor, he moves to follow the con to the floor, feeling the beat, his tail swishing as he starts picking up the beat

The femme on stage goes back to dancing to the rockin' music, but she hasn't forgotten about Loadout. Nosiree.

Impactor leans in close to the red vial. "Yeah, Loadout definitely wants the Red Rage. Don'tcha, Loadout?" He takes the drink and stands up. This turns out to be difficult as he's already had more than a few Blue Whatevers. He stumbles on over to Loadout and hands it to him. "Consideration... yeah, yeah, that's what we're giving you here." After a brief glance at the Dance Off , Impactor focuses on Loadout, speaking in his intense, harsh voice. "Listen to me, Loadout. If you don't do this... if you go this entire evening without having fun..." his eyes narrow as he speaks these hateful words. "Then Cyclonus wins." Dun dun DUNNNNN.

Monstereo reaches behind the mix table and grabs some of the house DJ's swag. He starts throwing out shirts, hats, drink containers, and tentacle cuffs into the crowd. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7AxI4rxCf2E

Cyclonus raises a brow. "And we wouldn't want that, now, would we?" The waitress with another drink, and this time Cyclonus elects to drink it at a more leisurely pace.

Torque hoards the multitude of shotglasses when they're delivered to her, half of them some sort of sparkly, diamond-like liquid, the other more of the Cherenkov Sparkle. "Ahh, the best credits can buy." She grins, downing a shot of the glittery stuff before following up with a Cherenkov, repeating this with the five or six shots of each liquid. Obviously this is some strong stuff, Torque's antennas already drooping and optics dimming in a sloshed haze as the booze works through her systems. With a big grin on her face and cheeks tinged in a drink-induced blush she leans over to Loadout, an arm coiling around his shoulders while buddying up to him. "Yeeaaah. C'mon, Loadout, have some fuuun." She chuckles softly, nearly draping over him now.

Wheeljack pulls the cyber-cig out for a moment to take a sip of his drink as Sinnertwin points at him to try and mock Snarl farther. "Oh, you so do not wanna go there, bucko." The stuffs it back into the vent on the other side of his 'mouth'. "Com'n Snarl, yer not gonna take that from him."

"What?" Loadout begins, optic visor pulsing wildly for a moment as he peers back at Impactor, then to Cyclonus, then to Impactor again, then to the...drink he's had thrust into his hand, eyeing it with all the suspicion he'd give to something highly explosive and primed to go. "Win what?I don't see how this...I don't..."

And there's only so much he can take. "Gah! ENOUGH! Fine, one sip. And that is -it-! If you will cease this harassment and leave me alone!" At this point he stands up, drink in hand, right about when Torque all but drapes over him. His visor pulses from orange to red for a moment before he coughs and makes a 'clearing throat' noise. "One sip. And that's all." He confirms again, lifting the glass to his nose and sniffing at its contents suspiciously. "Ugh..." Nonetheless, he lifts it up to his lips and tips it so just a -bare- drop trickles into his mouth.

*CRASH*

That is the sound of Loadout's body hitting the floor a moment later, flat out on his back, arms out to either side and the remnants of the glass and contents spinning into the air as he's been promptly laid out. If were capable of it, there would probably be little X X's in his optic visor.

Boomslang takes a sparkling pink cube thrust into his hand by Fusillade as she swoops past gyrating, and sips it, snickering at Loadout. "At least we don't have to worry about him," he remarks, taking a more generous drink. "That guy makes me nervous."

Encore looks over at Sinnertwin and smirks. He's personally hoping a fight kicks off. He blinks and watches Loadout go down, coughing. "Now there's a bot who can't hold his shine." He shakes his head in pity with a sigh, looking around for signs of thing kicking off

Cyclonus stares at the downed gunformer for a moment, a brow raised. "Hm. Curses, foiled again," he mutters before turning back to his drink.

As soon as Sinnertwin stops spinning, the world catches up to him and he starts to stumble back and forth on uneasy feet. He shakes off the dizziness before taunting Snarl again. "Yeah, you don't give up do you? Just like you don't give up eating space doughnuts or whatever it is fat robots like you eat." He snaps his fingers in a Z-formation. Oh yeah, he bad. Michael Jackson bad. He then starts doing the robot (a classic). "JUST GIVE UP NOW, DINO-BUTT! I am the SUPERIOR dancer!"

Wheeljack reachs over to give Encore a nudge. "Hey, got any more of those Blues? Need another drink to properly enjoy the show." Or make the horrible dancing on -both- parts not seem so terrible. Maybe both. Either way. Gotta save the red stuff after all.

"Ah, there you are!" Fusillade shouts over the deafening bassline to Sinnertwin. She continues to squeeze out several sick moves, moving across the floor with a fierceness. Most of the motions contain elements seen in energetic house music, a few of the drops made smoother and sultrier by the introduction of improvised merengue. She raises the roof with the pink cube in hand, hmming a bit, "A little too girly, but... eh." She takes a long swig, before snorting softly and edging away Sinnertwin, and a bit closer to the stage, sly grin writ large on her features.

Encore nods and motions to the bar. "They sell 'em here. The barman knows yer on my tab; everything of my shine we drink is deducted from the cost of his next delivery"

Sit-Com grabs a shirt and puts it on! Then he keeps dancing. "Donkey shoes," he says to Monstereo.

Stegosaurus  growls again at Sinnertwin, even as he starts a stego shuffle. LMFAO has NOTHING on him, his four stego feets floating over the dance floor. The stego is rather light on his feet

"He must work out," remarks the Blue Femme.

Impactor doesn't explain himself to Loadout. He doesn't *have* to explain himself to Loadout. They're on Planet XXX. He finally relaxes and nods his approval as Loadout relents. "Atta boy." he slaps him on the back. "Trust me, you're going to feel great afterwards."

*CRASH*

"..." Impactor kneels, still wobbling but managing to avoid falling over. He checks for signs of life. "...s'okay, he's still alive!" Impactor stands back up again, grabs Loadout, and hauls him up on stage for the femme's tender care. "Tell me again what's in that stuff?" he asks Encore as he watches the dance off.

Wheeljack laughs. "Now that's clever business." Waves to the barkeep. "You heard him, bring me another one!" Pause to glance over at the dance floor as the two lumoxs are trying to dance each other into submission.

Glances back to the barkeep. "Better make that two."

Swindle frowns slightly as he watches Loadout... hit the floor. Falling backwards from Vertical to Horizontal without any sagging midway, which he finds slightly impressive, but with only a drop, which is far less so. Taking a deep swallow of his drink, he addresses Wheeljack cheerfully. "So, Enjoying your comeback?"

Monstereo cues up a new track on for the tempo and mood change in between dance off rounds. "Awww yeah, get your aft up for the doctor! One more time, get your aft up for the doctor! Till the sun comes up!" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EqOBleo9Q9g

Encore laughs a little, and lists off some chemicals that really aren't good for Cybertronians and would cause a human to explode, but nothing that should really cause that sort of problems. "Loadout just can't hold his shine; that genny of his practically makes him overcharged most of the time anyway." He chuckles, lighting himself a fresh, non-Victory Dance cigar.

He continuously scans the bar incase things get 'out of hand'

Torque blinks in surprise when Loadout takes one sip and suddenly collapses to the floor, leaving her standing over him with a raised brow and mild expression. "...Wow, no wonder he doesn't drink." She looks up from the downed mech, swirling mind already searching out someone else to drape on. Torque beams once more when she spots Impactor right there, almost immediatly sidling right up to him, arms clinging to one of his own.

"Heeey, Impactor." She slurrs a bit with a sing-song tone, getting a little friendly as she tries to rub shoulders with the Wrecker. Note tries, since he's taller. "Hnn.. care to buy me a drink or five? Or a dance will do." Torque chuckles, still grinning.

"Woah woah WOAH WOAH! WOAH!" Sinnertwin stops dancing to /glare/ at Snarl. "That's not fair," he says, pointing at the Stegosaur's feet. "/Four/ feet? That's an unfair advantage." The Terrorcon transforms into his quadruped form and starts stomping around while swinging his tails and necks from side to side. Oh yeah! Now it's on!

"Who taught you how to dance, an epileptic monkey?" one of Sinnertwin's heads says. "No that can't be right because they're better!"

Sinnertwin transforms into a two-headed abomination. The horror!

Loadout is all limp and unmoving in the femme's arms as she dances around, flailing his limbs about as she does pretty all the leading...and all the -dancing- for that matter while Loadout inadvertently does his best impression of a bad rendition of Weekend at Bernies.

"More's the pity," Cyclonus declares at Impactor's assessment. "Even so, I've discovered his shameful weakness. I'm sure I'll think of a way to use it against him ONE day. Swindle, is it possible to make an aerosol version of your fine brew?"

Monstereo inexplicably recieves the 'phone numbers' of several club patrons and employees alike as he dances around swiveling his Sonic Rifle about sending his good vibrations through folks. He passes by the downed Loadout and declares, "Bangkok took him!" He passes on by never stopping his hip shaking and bopping. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gtVf3okdNXI

"Oh GEEEZE," Fusillade says as her routine gets interrupted by the saurians. She manages to jump over a swishing tail, and with a click of heel thrusters, and cruises back over the bar, giving a curt nod toward Cyclonus, Wheeljack, Encore, Impactor, and company. "Retard quotient was getting a bit high for me out there." She unfurls one wingblade, and fans herself with it.

Fusillade then peers at Wheeljack, pointing at Snarl. "Izzat yours? How do live with yourself?"

"For a while, he didn't," Cyclonus deadpans.

Dead End calls from the bar, "And I think that's even one of the smarter ones." then goes back to minding his own business.

Stegosaurus  dances around, "Me think you silly, complaining of advantages when I have all advantage I need! ME NO DRUNK TWO HEADED FATTY!" He spins, JUST barely missing Sinnertwin's heads with his tail

Fusillade pauses. Stares at Dead End. "Hey, how'zit goin;?"

Impactor watches Loadout 'dance' for a while. first snorts at Cyclonus. "Yeah, you think you can beat us by getting us drunk. Ha ha ha... good luck, Cyc! See? Even Snarl's a way better dancer than Sinnertwit when he's plastered." Snarl /is/ winning, right? "Even Loadout's dancing his chassis off up there." To Torque, he wobbles a bit. "Pick your poison." Even as he says this, he tries rating both her and Fusillade to see which one scores higher. Tough call. That's the kind of classy mech he is.

Dead End stops mid drink and peers over at Fusilade, "I'm alive, against the odds... so I guess it's going okay."

Fusillade has /THREE/ bomb bays.

"HOLY SCRAP!" If he had a mouth to properly spit it from Wheeljack probably would of at the sight of Sinnertwin's transformation. Not quite, but he does jerk up with a start. And fortunately still got enough motor reflex to catch victory dance cig before its ruined by being dropped on the floor. "That looks like someone put the blueprints through a shredder a few times and tried to assembly the chassis from reading the paper bits like a misassembled jigsaw puzzle! Ye cats, some Decepticon tech needs his optics recalibrated. Or gorged out."

Though when Fusillade speaks up he pauses, then just chuckles a bit as he scoops his drink back up. "Pfff. That's nothing. I live with -five- of them." Pause. Sticks the cyber-cig back in a vent and then jerks a thumb at the two-headed beast. "At least it ain't -that- monstrousity."

"SERVED!" comes an exclaimation from the Peanut Gallery.

Both of Sinnertwin's heads gasp in unison as Snarl's insult cuts into him like a diamond-tipped knife. The dance-off can wait, shit just got real. The Terrorcon stomps towards Snarl until he's practically standing on top of him, all four of his red eyes shooting daggers into the Dinobot's face. "WHAT. DID. YOU. CALL. ME?" he hisses. He doesn't hear Wheeljack's comment obviously because he's not stomping over there to raise hell.

Encore holds up a finger to Wheelchack "Watch me get my ass slapped!" He laughs, taking a deep swig of the Cherenkov Sparkle, draining the glass. He sidles up to Fusi and mysteriously appears beside her suddenly, snagging a glass of the surprisingly attractive blue stuff. He adds a shot of JP-7 to the mixture and set it beside the Executrix. "Baby, you huge."

"What did he call him?" Boomslang asks no one in particular, looking around. "I can never tell what's going to set off Terrorcons."

He's even put on a deep Barry White purr that only just fails to conceal his native accent.


 * Encore's

Monstereo makes it to the cluster of Decepticons and points his aft their way, turning the music to something with just a subtly darker tone, andbending forward a bit and shaking his booty in alternating gyrations and counter gyrations to four counts. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Txwd7XFrwvQ

Cyclonus shrugs at Impactor. "Get you drunk? Oh, I don't have to do that, you're doing a fine job of it on your own. Hmhm. Ah..." He glances back to the dance floor. "Speaking of drunken behavior, I'm sure you'll understand if she does not take kindly to his 'compliments?'"

Loadout is swung around like a quadripalegic in a one-sided dance contest, at least until his body finally reacts to the fact that there's too much energon flowing through it, and it needs to vent somehow. How does it do that? Most mechs let out a healthy belch or 'sleep it off' or the like. In the technician's case, his body uses the next easiest and quickest method. Suddenly transforming, he attached himself onto, and around the femme's right arm, causing her to stumble for a moment before she gets both hands on the cannon frame to steady herself.

"Ooooh, what's this, some kinda fireworks machine? YAAHOO!"

She leaps down from the stage and points Loadout straight upwards, standing between both Snarl and Sinnertwin as the cannon goes off with a deafening *KRAKA-BWOOOM* and fires a brilliant beam of white light straight upwards, punching a perfect hole in the ceiling and going straight off into the sky for good measure. It actually -is- kind of like fireworks, actually.

Best of all, Loadout's energy readout panel goes from flashing red indicating too much back down into the green again. "....bluurgh.." he can be heard finally, the panel flashing in time with his voice.

Loadout has partially disconnected.

Sit-Com gets jiggy with it, dancing like a pro from a music video. See, watching all that TV paid off!

Fusillade leers at Dead End as she sidles over. "See, -I- think that you're just using the whole doom and gloom thing as a cover. How in the SMELT can you be such a morose mudder-plucker when you turn into a PORSCHE?!" I swear, you're full of --" She pauses, flicks saffron-gold optics at the proffered drink, and then snatches it up as if Encore was returning a very overdue favor. And she is FAR from insulted. "Hnn, you're no OCTANE, but you got it, I make this --" She does the owl-head gesture and sleeks hands over her voluminous curves, "WORK. Ain't gonna find -anyone- in the skies with THIS kinda tonnage -AND- these kind of moves!"

And then Torque makes Loadout discharge.

"PITT! The jig is up!!" She dives under the counter, knocking into Cyclonus's shins. "Don't worry I won't tell Galvatron if you don't!"

Loadout shrinks down, parts lock together and his torso spins about as he transforms into an imposing looking heavy cannon.

Monstereo straightens and stares as Loadout-cannon blows a hole in the roof. "Daaaaamn, that bot's got a hair trigger!"

Stegosaurus  growls, "YOU HEAR ME JUST FINE WITH BOTH HEADS! OR DID ONE HEAD GET TOO INVOLVED SNIFFING OWN BUTT AND KILLING WHATEVER BRAIN BOTH HAD LEFT, TWO HEADED DRUNK FATTY!" Yeah, the stego isn't backing down

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!" Sit-Com says, diving under the table as the shot goes off.

".. Hey, did that guy just transform into a gu--" Wheeljack is cut off by the dancer hoisting Loadout upwards and firing him off. For someone who's been 'barhopping' with the likes of some of the good ol' bots back in the glory days of Cybertron, he has the perfect reaction to this.

"DUCK AND COVER!" Cue mad inventor half-drunkenly diving over the bar and ducking on the other side.

Comes up a moment later, grab the remaining Blue drink he had, and then ducks back down again.

Dead End shrugs at Fusillade and turns back to his drink, "Just because death is inevitable doesn't mean we can't at least have the good sense to leave an attractive shell." he polishes off the glass and calls to the bartender, "Another."

Cyclonus is about to raise his glass for another sip when the shot goes off, and, alarmed, he drops his glass. Then Fusillade smacks into his legs and the space warrior lets out a pained grunt. "Nnngh--what is going on? Did you fire that shot, Fusillade!?" he rumbles, peering under the counter.

Combat: Your COMBAT flag has been cleared.

Swindle's optics flicker uncertainly as Cyclonus directs a question at him. "Ah, well, creating an airbourne derivative should be relatively simple... but unreliable." He waves a hand vaguely, "Subject to the vagaries of the local weather systems, for a start, just as probable to affect our own forces, or none at all-" He breaks off as Loadout blows his load. "Woah. I want one."

Torque snorts softly as Encore tries to woo the Con femme, though she pauses when asked what to drink. "Mmm... more of that Cherenkov. Really gets the energon flowin'." She says smoothly with a sly smirk before suddenly releasing his arm and making herself comfortable by slipping into his lap, an arm already drapped over one of his shoulders. Drunk Torque is a handsy Torque, so of course she's already leaning on him, messing teasingly with the edges of his helmet. "I think we should do this more ofte-- What the hell??" She's interupted when Loadout fires a round through the ceiling, antennas perking a little as she peers behind Impactor's head to spot the dancer connect to Loadout in his arm cannon mode. "Ugh.. idiot femme shootin' up the place."

"NO," Fusillade replies in a sulk at Cyclonus, at being reminded that she hasn't unleashed her fully operational firepower for the evening.

Encore smiles at Fusillade and takes a swig of his own drink. "My only regret about meeting you, Miss Fusillade, is that you aren't an Autobot. I always admire a lady with... Payload." He grins. "And your choice of Chassis... it's nice to see that you have taste."

"Live by the explosives, die by the explosives," Fusillade replies from under Cyclonus's table/barstool at Encore. "Didja ever get tha howitzah inshtalled?" she queries in Encore's general direction.

"You sonuva- I'LL KILL YOU!" Sinnertwin makes to leap at the Dinobot but random skanky femme and Loadout stop him, what with the whole shooting holes in the ceiling thing. "HIT THE DECK!" he bellows, dropping to the floor and tucking his heads under his forepaws. Debris starts falling on him and one piece manages to impale itself on one of his horns.

"Why don't we just chalk this up as a win for me and oggle some strippers?" he says, peeking out from between his claws.

Ion Assault Cannon <Loadout> smokes a bit at the tip of his barrel, the cloud rising lazily into the sky as he's still held aloft. The femme blinkblinks a few times, looking up at the hole in the ceiling, then back to the gun on her arm. "...ooooh did I do that? I never seen a fireworks machine like -this- before!" She speaks in an oh-so-bubbly fashion, before lowering the gun again. Just at the point that it starts to transform once more and detach from her arm, sending Loadout stumbling freely until his hands catch the table, bracing himself from falling over. His mouth opens once, about to say something important no doubt.

"Beeeyeeeuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurp!"

Encore shakes his head "Not yet, I'm still looking to get the twenty five mike-mike up and running. The Big Stick's gonna be the final step in getting this chassis online - might brush up on my melee skills first, ya know? I was frozen for a long time; reckon I've got a bit rusty. I've nearly lost a few barfights, and..." He sucks air through his dental plates. "Reckon-" He glances over at Loadout's discharge and laughs. "Nice."

Splitting down the middle followed by spinning in the center, Loadout unfolds into his Robot mode.

Cyclonus adjusts himself in his seat. "A pity, Swindle--it would be the ultimate weapon against Loadout, clearly. One whiff and he'd be out!" He peers under the table again. "Will you get out of there already? Someone might get the wrong idea. I understand if you want to hide from the filthy Autobot, but perhaps you should confront and best him instead?"

Impactor grins wildly at Torque. "Chernschov it is," he says. "Hey... hey Encore, you got more of that sparkle stuff?" He tries waving at him, but then realizes his hand is already occupied with holding onto Torque, so the wave doesn't work.

Impactor startles as Loadout and his girlfriend suddenly spew light upwards, blasting it through the ceiling and into space. Thankfully, the asteroid's atmospheric forcefields hold. This isn't the first weapons grade spewing that this joint has seen, and it won't be the last. Acting on instinct, Impactor tries to reach for his ankle mounted pistol while using the bar stool for cover, apparently figuring that they've come under attack. Unfortunately he misses the holster, grabs his ankle, possibly knocks Torque off, and falls on the ground right in front of her.

Boomslang dives behind the bar when Loadout goes off, always quick to get out of the line of fire! After a few moments his cone pops back up from behind it. "Oh, just a loose cannon, it looks like."

Monstereo resumes mood setting and move blazing. He makes his way over to a dancer and stuffs a big tip in their triple g-string... KNUJ seems to be doing well. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M5GC9KQaWvA

<Autobot> Sergeant Encore says, "...should I really give Impactor more...?"

<Autobot> Keeper says, "More?"

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "Depends. How long has et been since yer booze killed some'un?"

<Autobot> Sergeant Encore says, "Well, it ain't since I got defrosted..."

<Autobot> Sit-Com says, "With a rebel yell, cry more more more"

Stegosaurus <Snarl> blinks as the shooting happens, watching Sinnertwin cower. He turns to look where the shooting is coming from, "And bots say ME SNARL crazy." He kneels down to nudge Sinnertwin, "You can get up, two headed fatty. No shooting at us."

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "Slacker."

<Autobot> Keeper says, "Mon dieu. Consult the Autobot Handbook for off duty conduct guidelines... please."

<Autobot> Sergeant Encore says, "Don't 'ave a copy"

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "Ah do. Et keeps me desk from wobbling. But serrr'lously Keepah, ye dinnae have much tae worry about. Ets' all just a good joke."

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "We have a handbook?"

<Autobot> Loadout says, "Uuuurugh."

<Autobot> Torque says, "MORE BOOZE"

<Autobot> Snarl says, "ME NO READ"

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "There's an Audial version..."

"The RIGHT idea, HEE!," Fusillade remarks to Cyclonus, before re-emerging and shaking out her phosphorescent light-reactive spots. "Buh, point taken, if I -MUST- settle furrah glorified cargoh plane insthead of a propah REGENT of tha celesthial SKIES!" She screws her pale face up in a fine approximation of a NOH mask in Cyclonus's direction, and with an overblown regretful flourish of hand, she snorts at Impactor. "Nawt nao! We're bizthy! You dance, Encore?" She snags him by the wrist and whips him out onto the floor in a corner away from the Primitives, and proceeds to rock bottoms like Master Funk Flex.

<Autobot> Keeper makes sure to requisition copies for Encore and Powerglide, and a full holo-recorded version narrated by Morgan Freeman for Snarl, leaving them at their respective doors to their quarters.

Encore yelps as he's snagged for a dance, grinning. "For you? Sure." He grins, mimicking Fusillade's moves with a little bit of improvisation on his own part. He's not bad, but it's also pretty clear (especially from the scratches) that he tends to dance more with his fists than his feet. Somehow during the dancing, making it look smooth, he produces a very fine slim panatella enercigar, on a black holder, for the Decepticon.

Loadout raises one forearm and rubs it carefully across his mouth, as if to get the taste of the swill out of his mouth. Which is an amazing feat given that he only took -one- drop. Interestingly, not only does he get overenergized ridiculously fast, but it looks like he recovers ridiculously fast after venting too.

Figuratively speaking of course. He may have his wits back about him again but he still looks like he feels as if he's been run over by a truck. "I think...I thinkit's better now. *URP*"

Boomslang cheers on Fusillade, "Drop that thing like a guided bomb unit!"

Monstereo makes his way back to the bot table, needing to refresh with another drink... and he lets control of the house sound system back to the DJ after setting one last selection to play. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLTI2rWAlV4

<Autobot> Snarl says, "ME LIKE MORGAN FREEMAN!"

<Autobot> Keeper says, "Noted."

<Autobot> Fanfare says, "Who DOESNT!?"

Cyclonus watches Fusillade shuffle away, then focuses his attention on Wheeljack. He even smiles at him. It's not a very warm smile. "Waitress!" Cyclonus says, now that he's got her gender right. The waitress shuffles up, and Cyclonus says, "Bring for my *friend* here a Cherenkov... whatever that was. And one for myself as well." While he waits, Cyclonus steeples his fingers as he leans forward on the table. "Well. Wheeljack, now that all your friends are occupied... or... *incapacitated*... perhaps you'd like to share a few trade secrets? You see, few know this, but I'm something of a technical master myself." Mostly in the field of sabotage... "And, well, I thought maybe we'd be able to talk... one engineer to the other."

<Autobot> Victory Leo transmits a URL: http://a6.sphotos.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc7/408165_10150495612037861_766777860_8855643_1587247732_n.jpg

Sit-Com highfives Monstereo. "Groovy," he says, "Job well done."

<Autobot> Snarl says, "Woo hoo!"

Monstereo notes... "Paranormal Activity 3... they've seemed to have changed the origin or something of the demon and the whole connection to the sisters."

Mechanical Orthrus <Sinnertwin> sits on his haunches and claws at the chunk of ceiling on his horn until he manages to get it off. "I'm not a fatty! You're a fatty! I bet you have your own gravitational pull, fatty!" He transforms back into his robot mode and starts throwing money at Snarl. "Here! Take this! Go buy yourself some robot cake or something! Go eat yourself into a coma! I'm going to go eyeball strippers." So he walks over to Torque and starts tossing money at her as well, "Take off your clothes or clothes equivalent."

Torque still holds a blank, drunken stare as she watches Loadout disconnect from the femme and vent after transforming, making her snicker a little. Her attentioon moves back to Impactor, and she's about to speak, but it's cut off when he suddenly leans forward and in, "Eh?" She blinks in surprise, antennas perking straight up. At least until he starts tipping off the stool. "Ack! Impactor!" Her optics brighten and she clings to him like a cat, going down with him to the floor, the move from vertical to horizontal making her drunken vision swirl.

"Ergh..." She fights back the dizzy feeling while laying on the floor, rubbing her head as optics blurrily look up. And of course the first thing she spots is Impactor, having landed atop her. "...Movin' a little fast, aren't yah?" Torque finally manages, smirking a little.

Sinnertwin transforms into his robot mode. He's still hideous!

Sinnertwin throws some money on the downed Impactor. "You too."

Stegosaurus <Snarl> grins, "ME WIN!" He starts picking up the money in his mouth, tail swishing, <<ME NO FATTY!>>, saying this over common frequencies <<ME RICH!>>

Impactor groans and tries to figure out what happened. The last thing he remembers, he was being attacked by a stripper with a ray gun. Heh... if he had a nickel every time that happened, right? He looks up and sees two things. First, money coming down at him. If he were sober this wouldn't be a big deal. But he ain't sober, and so he's happy that he gets free money. He also sees Torque. Wait, money AND Torque? Aw heck, he's dreaming again. "...are we still under attack?" Pause. "Is... is this 'bout Snarl's weight problem?"

Fusillade breaks out some isolations of her servos, defying balance and physics for a moment. With a chuckle, she flexes her wrist to pluck the cigarillo from Encore's hand. "Aren't you cute?" S She snaps up hands, palms ghosting over Encore's form until the ironwood humidor materializes in her hand. "Kind, buh you undereshtimate me," at which point she plucks out a stogie of similar vintage as the one Impactor was given, and she snaps into it with a zest akin to Starbuck from the Battlestar Galactica remake. "Oh-kaaaaaaaay," she calls out to Boomer, and proceeds to compact herself to the ground with skills reminiscent of a limbo master.

Swindle rises from his seat and goes to meet a figure at the door, one carrying another large canister bearing the Swindlebrau logo, he points the gumbicon towards the bar and waves a hand theatrically as he speaks - well, /announces./ "Friends, Foes, and Intoxicated, it's been a pleasure!" Pointing towards the bar he continues, "I have made contributions from my personal supplies in order to mark this... unique event. Please, indulge!" With a final bow, he turns and saunters out of the bar.

Sinnertwin continues throwing dollar after dollar on Impactor, an angry scowl on his face the entire time. "DANCE FOR ME!" he roars. "DANCE LIKE YOU'VE NEVER DANCED BEFORE."

Wheeljack peeks up over the bar as things have quieted down. Or at the very least Loadout is no longer having his copious load of ammo sprayed about the bar. "Is it over?" Whew. He hoists himself up, then leans on the bar on one elbow. "Almost as wild as the last time I had to escort the Twins on shore leave!" Let's see, he still had a Cherenkov left .. oh, right, in his hand. And promptly emptied. "Eh, I've blown up my fair share of things in my time!" Not to mention himself in the process more than anyone likes to have to admit to seeing."

Stegosaurus <Snarl> growls at Impactor, <<ME NO HAS WEIGHT PROBLEM!!!>> He pads up to Impactor, nudges him, <<You lucky! ME NOW go INVEST!>>

"He's a maniac, maniac, that's for sure," Sit-Com hums.

Boomslang takes some of Sinnertwin's loan (which is just lying around on the floor and the bar and the stage and so on, now), piles it into a stack, and starts peeling bills off and flicking them at Fusillade to 'make it rain.' "That's hot like napalm on a Laotian village!"

Swindle has disconnected.

Boomslang adds, "Clap those tailslabs!"

Cyclonus nods at Wheeljack. "Yes, unmaking something is easy enough. But to create! Ah, therein lies the true challenge." The waitress fetches their drinks, and Cyclonus takes his in hand, theatrically raising it up as he appraises the glow. "Or perhaps even to restore! You see, my friend, I've come across a certain... dilemma. You may have heard about my origin, as well as that of Galvatron and the Sweeps. Well. We have made the discovery that we were not reformatted from dying Decepticons after all. Oh, no. For you see, Unicron CREATED new bodies for us, and left our old ones to drift in the void. We've rediscovered them, and it turns out that Skywarp and Thundercracker were still there. Alas, they're useless to us--their minds are blank slates, and all efforts to revive them have failed..." He wonders, for a moment, if his lie will get Wheeljack's curiosity--and if he's drunk enough to accidentally divulge something he wants to know.

Encore slips the panatella away somewhere and gets out one of his thick cigars, lighting it and watching Fusillade lean right back like a limbo dancer. "Impressive..." He comments, looking over at the DJ and making a few select signs. A piece of music extremely similar to electro-swing begins to play and he begins to dance in the 50's style (but faster, with elements of break dance). As Fusillade comes back up from the limbo move, he takes her hand and begins to lead her in a re-working of the Jive

Torque holds back a laugh at Impactor's confusion, only letting out a soft snort while smirking. "Uhm.. no." Still pinned she raises a brow up at him, "You ah.. mind gettin' off me? Or not, I'm not complaining." Torque beams, leaning up to plant a smooch on him. She's drunk, what do you expect? Likely won't remember it tomorrow anyway. Hell, she doesn't even notice the money all over the place, which is surpising.

Impactor reaches behind him, trying to grab at the dollars. But he's drunk, y'see, and he misses it all. That doesn't really count as dancing, though. He squints at Snarl and mutters, "Thought fat people were supposed to be jolly..." He hmms at Torque. "...alright." He awkwardly gets off, standing up with the help of the bar stool for support. Hah, no smooch for Impactor. He's too mean to deserve it anyway.

Wheeljack sets the empty drink glass down and folds his hands together, leaning forward a bit to rest his chin on them as he eyes Cyclonus over for a moment or two. "If you ask me, those minds were pretty blank in the first place. How else did they ever put up with palling around with Starscream all that time?"

Monstereo says, "ZING!"

"Oh no he di'int!" Sit-Com exclaims.

Dead End mumbles quietly under his breath, "Gonna get himself killed... again."

Fusillade says, "It's okay Cyclonus, I LUUUUUUUUUUVE you, even if Galvatgron slaps tyiou around liked a T!orqwul;omn!!" She shrieks and giggles as the credits from Boomslang patter over her frame, half-waving and half-clawing at Boomslang even as she snorts out a cloud of ener-smoke from mouth and nostrils like primeval demon. She arches her back and shimmies a few times, causing her wingblades to clack against each other per his request. Given that she is facing Encore, he really receives the benefit of most of her writhing, and takes another long drag on the beefy enercigar. "Hwoof, this'iz gotta kick!" she shouts in the heavy air support's left audial, before chuffing a bit in surprise at the sprightly bandstand number. She does her best to hang, shuffling feet and raising hands to do a variation on the twist.

"

Sinnertwin just frowns at Impactor. "You're the worst stripper I've ever seen. I'm going to make sure you never dance in this town again!" He stumbles over to where that really hideous woman/man/creature he saw when he first walked in is dancing. "YEAH BABY! YEAH! NOW /THIS/ IS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!" He sits down at the stage and starts throwing money at her/him, or atleast he would if he had any left. "Oh no! SWINDLE! I NEED ANOTHER LOAN!" Unfortunately, Swindle is no where to be seen. "Do you take I.O.U's?"

Cyclonus allows himself a slight chuckle. "Oh, yes indeed, I can't understand it either. But, you see, I think their relationship was mostly based on mutual antagonism. They loved to hate one another, essentially, and, well, when you're a Decepticon that's about as close to the notion of friendship that you can get. Ah... well... I'm sure they could get by without a member of their little club all the same. Still. It vexes me. We've gotten our best scientists on the job, trying to resurrect them, but thus far all efforts have failed. Everything is intact, but... how to fill the void that keeps them from returning to life?"

He winces as Fusillade begins yelling partially incomprehensible babblings at him. "Nnnngh. You see what I must deal with? Truly, it is the minister who bears the burdens of the kingdom, not the King."

Encore grins and begins to join in the Twist with Fusillade, pulling her close into a more... personal.. variant of the twist, and at the same time, exhaling smoke from... his audio inputs. Smooth.

Torque's lips pull into a thin line when Impactor stands, avoiding the kiss. She snorts and stands as well, a little wobbly though, before managing to sit back on a stool. "Tch, you're no fun, Imp." Antennas lay back a little, lips pursing in a small pout before she snatches up some normal highgrade and sips at it, optics wandering to watch Fusillade and Encore dance, a brow raising at them.

"Mmmhmm." Having puffed the end out of that cyber-cigar Wheeljack tugs it out of his mouth grate and stuffs it in a nearby ashtray, sort of. The thing scoots on him a couple of times from the force, and finally he just tosses the end of the filter in the tray whole. "So. Still can't find that little thing that'd put the fire back in their afterburners, huh?"

Impactor looks back at Sinnertwin, "The hell... oh, the money!" NOW it dawns on him. Despite himself, he laughs with the Terrorcon's plight rather than murderizing him. Glancing over at Wheeljack, he says, "Damn it's good to have you back." He manages to find his seat again and reaches for a half empty glass of Cherenkov on the table. He has no idea if it's his, but it's gone with one swift motion. To Torque, he says, "Glad you came with us." he apparently has no idea what he missed.

Cyclonus shrugs at Wheeljack, sipping at his drink. "Indeed. It seems that we are missing that, say, critical 'Life Spark' that would bring them back. Truly a mystery! Perhaps we'll simply have to replace their laser cores with different ones. Rather a shame..."

"UNICRONDAMMIT SHOW ME YOUR FLIPPIN THRUSTERS YOU FRIGID PONCE!!!" Fusillade shrieks at Cyclonus, before breaking into sharp laughter, and gesticulating at Boomslang suggestively with the stogie. "Yannow he's muy best escot," she remarks to Encore about Boomslang as she grips his palm with her free hand and scoots about, her hip-mounted wingblades enhancing her bustling to the big band sound. "Lazzer sight targing and weveyrthing! He';s realklyl cool!" she effuses to Encore.

Stegosaurus <Snarl> has fat wads of cash that Sinnertwin threw at him, in his mouth. He goes over to look up at Wheeljack, <<Where me put money?>>

Sit-Com finds a small hurricane of credits has made it under his table. He scoops them up and pockets them, whistling innocently all the time.

"What?" asks Boomslang, who had been watching the strippers. "Oh, she's all right, she's just messing around with one of those flying busses," he tells Sinnertwin, turning back to the show. "Hey, where'd all your money go? Is that it?"

Torque smirks a little at Impactor through her drink, not put off anymore now that she's sipping on more booze. "Heh, glad I could. Was hopin' for maybe a little more excitement though..." She hmms softly to herself, eyeing the stage now. The femme can't help but chuckle softly, "Hmm.. maybe I should fix that n' actually get on stage. Maybe."

Cyclonus makes another pained face. "I think it will take several days for Fusillade to recover from this night, from the sound of things..." he mutters, mostly to himself.

Wheeljack looks down (if only because Snarl's head is so low in that mode) at the Dinobot and snickers a bit. "Why don't ya save it for now Snarl m'boy, and get yourself something you like when we get back to Earth?" Then turns back to Cyclonus. "He don't need to drink often. Those solar plates give him all the power he needs. Pretty ingenious if I say so myself."

As Cyclonus goes on he looks back to the Decepticon second in command, and shakes his head a bit. "That's just gonna boot 'em up with whatever new personality is in the cores, if any. Ya can't just slap a new core in an old body and get the same bot, don't work that way."

Apparently strippers don't take I.O.Us because everytime he asks, Sinnertwin gets the cold shoulder. "Wow. Whole lotta bitches in here tonight," he mumbles under his breath. He stands up and shrugs and Boomslang. "I don't know where it all went. I think I got robbed!"

"Can't trust Autobots," Boomslang replies, shaking his head disapprovingly.

Impactor grins back at Torque. "Yeah!" he slams his fist down on the table a little too hard. "Go on up there and show 'em that Loadout wasn't the best amongst us." To Sinnertwin, he says in a slurred voice, "Dropped some of your cash on the ground," he points where he and Torque were just laying. Sinner can rummage around on the floor picking it back up if he wants.

Encore adjusts the angle of his wings to suggest the tails of an old English style suit. He takes Fusillade's hand and twirls her, laughing quietly. He slides away from her to snag a drinks tray from a waiter, on which there are two large glasses of the Cherenkov, again laced with JP-7. He slides back to Fusillade, one arm behind his back and the tray resting on his shouldr. "He's got style, I'll agree, but he needs to learn about neutral territory. Bars are different... the war stops at the door. Bar brawls is somethin different though - jus' ask Carnivac. Kicked his ass at face pool!"

Cyclonus nods to Wheeljack, frowning in thought. 'And here is where you fall into my trap!' Cyclonus thinks to himself, hoping Wheeljack is engaged enough in the discussion to accidentally divulge his secrets. "Yes, I understand that. Therein lies our frustration! How can we return their original personalities to them? Regrettably, we may have to simply give up..."

Stegosaurus <Snarl> grins a little, <<ME do that!>> He looks over at Boomslang, then at the other cons, then at Cyclonus <<ME no trust purple con bot! Me think he think bad things>>

Sinnertwin does want to rummage around on the floor for it. So he does, complaining about the lousy service in this joint the entire time. After collecting and counting all of it (which comes to about five dollars american) he stares at Impactor. Then at his money. Then Impactor.

"DANCE FOR ME!" he hollers, throwing the money all over the place again.

"Hey, look, his brain's working," Boomslang remarks. "Wheeljack must've given him a tune-up since he got back from being dead."

Monstereo just shakes his head grinning between Wheeljack and Cyclonus. "Reduce, Reuse, and Recycle. It's why we transplant parts to bodies and not the other way around. Best you can do is get yourself a Mini-Me." He pops his hood chest plate and pulls out a Cassette-former remaining in Tape mode and then puts it back. "Now, if you want to replace the Coneheads with old school noggins, that'd be something your barber could handle... As for restoring original personalities... transplant yourselves back into your old bods and take up acting lessons... then your 2.0 bods can be empty husks... only with less death-stink."

Torque actually looks a little surprised when Impactor cheers on the decision, her optics widening as she hadn't expected him to call her out. "Ehhh... M-Maybe.." She mutters, buzz starting to slowly wind back down as she rubs the back of her neck and looks down at the table sheepishly. "Or.. maybe I should just drink more, yeah?" Torque tries to manage a smirk, pulling her highgrade closer.

"CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!" Sit-Com calls out to Torque. He nods at Monstereo. "They can rebuild them. They have the technology."

Impactor joins in with the Junkion, thus proving how drunk he must be. "CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!" He also takes the advice and starts chugging some coloured liquid that Encore probably had his hand in creating.

"Three hours tops, Sir!!" Fusillade chirps in Cyclonus's direction, before pursing her lips in an 'oooh' at Encore's fancy footwork. "I wanst'e excatly expecting this sorta of dancing," she admits to Encore. "And man the last time I ompletely let loose in a bar in Neutral Territory, there was a big asft mess. I transformed inside the Sttel Balloon!!" she admits. "Huge mess, winy wings went everythwere." She stares long at hard at the drinks. "See now, you're just beeing a smooth operatior. And Boomer knows better about neutral teritory I don't think he's killed anyone since we started this charage. Charade. Pitt. This kinda sucks, yannow, that we are going to boack to killing each other after thiss, I can't stand it. Cyc woudl be sooo mujch better off without dealing with that awful wife-beater, it makes me cry a littel bt." Fusillade sniffs dramatically, half-pawing at the glittering drink in an attempt to stave off the rueful bent this trip was starting to take. "

Fusillade says, "And I can't take this, I nee dsome3 sick nasty beats, so much for keeping it above the waist, haw HAW"

Combat: Fusillade strikes Encore with her Grab attack!

"Charade," Boomslang says over his cube, carving a conical Kilroy in the bar with his ka-bar.

"That's a good Dinobot." And the zing from Boomslang is ignored for the most part. Partially because he's use to hearing people make snide remarks about the Dinobot intelligence. And partially because he's had those several drinks. With a chuckle he steps over and grabs Cyclonus around the shoulders, yanking the Decepticon close. Yep, he must be drunk. "Lemme just tell ya a little something, then..." Light-bars flickering a bit as a snicker as he leans nice and close to Cyclonus as if to really tell him some big secret.

"You're screwed."

With a racious laugh he pulls his arm back as he turns the other way, meandering back towards the other Autobots (and Junkions). "The only way that would ever work is if you could get original copies of their core matrices! Have fun letting Soundwave try and pick your head apart." Well, that's... kind of useful. And yet, likely something already knew and thus entirely pointless as well. Or maybe the Decepticons, having mad scientists even worse than he is, will mess up Cyclonus trying (as if he'd ever let them).

Wheeljack may be drunk, but he's not stupid.

Sinnertwin picks up all his money. Again. "YEAH CHUG! CHUG! GET DRUNK AND DANCE! I'll paaaaay yooouuu!" he sing-songs. He's not very good with money, that's probably why he never has any of his own.

Encore shrugs a little, supporting Fusillade as she grabs at the drink, smoothly guiding the drink into her other hand. "Way I see it, Fusi, we're just soldiers doing a job. You believe one thing, I believe another. We're professsissh- Professh. Pro-fess-ion-als... this dancing and stuff? Well, we're gonna have to live together when the war's over, no matter who wins. Being friends off the field of battle helps that process, and frick, at the end of the day, tell me you're not having fun and sometimes, bollocks to the war, that's all that matters. Whether that's on the dance floor or or a bar brawl."

Combat: Fusillade misses Cyclonus with her Grab attack!

Combat: Fusillade strikes Wheeljack with her Grab attack!

Combat: Sinnertwin strikes Wheeljack with his Pistol attack!

"HIC!" Fusillade raises a hand to bat at Encore's face. "Well int hat case you cabn be in muy band!I 've awlawyant wanted to play in bnand. But I get bass guaiar and I leave!! Lead! Pitt, ha ha. Cat3ehicnm, orr, err, contrial was supposed to be myu riught hand chichaaaa but damn I have'nt' heard from her in a long time, I hope she isnt dea."

Cyclonus allows the mad inventor to grab him, feeling sure that the answer is close. But alas, when Wheeljack reveals that he was merely setting him up for disappointment, he glowers bitterly at him. "Hmmm... that we already knew... But you have made me... think. For how could the Autobots obtain a copy of your core, I wonder...?" He taps his chin. "That must be the answer I'm looking for..." But then, just before he can complete his Evil Villain moment, Fusillade's hand snatches out at him. Cyclonus bolts out of his stool and onto his feet. "Gah!"

Fusillade continues to hiccup. "Ohhh awww sowwww wopaihngo0ersdf pitt thuis HURHSD this isn't fun anymore." She begins to scuttle to the door, starting to break out into sobs at Cyclonus's revulsion towards her.

Combat: Fusillade begins retreating, leaving herself vulnerable to parting shots from Cyclonus

Encore nods to Fusilalde, grinning a little. "Reckon I could do that" He agrees. "I'm a bit rusty but I played something similar to the sax back before I got froze. I daresay I could pick up a guitar pretty easy..." He comments, blinking. "...um."

Cyclonus glowers at Fusillade, shooting her a look before she departs. "Oh... blast you! What do you want from me? Stop that crying! Stop it now!"

Combat: Cyclonus misses Fusillade with his A Look (Pistol) attack! [Pulled -1]

"Sir yes sir! B'awwwww."

Boomslang slouches after Fusillade as is his role in the Aerospace hierarchy, muttering, "No rest for the wicked."

Torque rolls her optics at the cheers from the mechs, venting a soft sigh, "Fiiiine... I'm drunk enough anyway.." She quickly downs the rest of her drink, smacking it back down on the table before carefully standing before clambering up onto the open stage. "Oi.. I'm gonna regret this in the morning, aren't I?" She stands there, looking a little confused at the antics going on below. Or maybe she just didn't know how to start since she's not exactly the best dancer.

Wheeljack whoas as... what just happened? Femmes flying by, and now there's a light burning in his backside. Oh well, nothing another drink or two won't fix up. He trudges over and leans on one of Impactor's shoulders. "I'll give ya this much, Impy. Besides being able to kick some good scrap, ya know how to throw a mech a party." He starts snickering to himself again. "How's the rest of the chaos going?"

Fusillade lingers by the doorway and shouts encouragement to Torque, "GET LOOSE!" She beeps out a hiccup.

Impactor raises the... whatever the drink is that he's drinking as Torque gets up on stage. "There ya go!" Upon feeling Wheeljack's hand on his shoulder, he grins, "Not bad. First Loadout got up there, and now Torque. I gotta tell you, Jack, going back in time? Meeting all those legends? And then knowing that so many of them..." Impactor's face falls as he turns somber. "Knowing that... you know..." he sets his glass back down, shaking his head. "I'm just glad to be back in the present. Coming out here to Planet XXX was a good way to take my mind off it."

Fusillade waggles a bit as Boomslang joins her by the doorway, "Whaddya want?!"

Cyclonus realizes he isn't nearly big enough to fly everyone home, and with a weary sigh, he begins sending for a transport back to base. He looks up as Fusillade is almost out the door. "Wait! No, you can't fly in your state, I saw how much you had to drink!"

Sit-Com intones in an Arnold voice, "You should not drink and bake."

"SCREW YOU I AM BEAUTIFUL AND PERFECT IN MY ALT MODE IT IS THE BEST I AM A BONE YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT"

Fusillade leans forward, wingblades whipping out to their full span, even as her arms lock backward in place as the rear fuselage. Her torso folds out to the become the cockpit of a Terran B-1B Lancer, ready for flight!

"DANCE, DAMNIT, DANCE!" Sinnertwin yells, already throwing money at Torque. After waiting exactly twenty-five seconds, he gets angry and climbs onto the stage himself. "Damnit, Autobot, don't you know how to dance!? It's really NOT that hard!" He starts to do his 'help-I'm-having-a-stroke' dance, followed by what is possibly the worst breakdancing the universe has ever had the misfortune of seeing. He falls off the stage at one point but scrambles back up without missing a beat. "You should be paying ME for this!"

Combat: Space-Going B-1R Lancer begins retreating, outrunning all pursuit.

Cyclonus grimaces. Property fights on Planet XXX are one thing to clean up after, but aerial crashes from drunken Decepticons are another.

Encore snarls and runs from the bar, transforming into his altmode to follow after her. He's drunk and doesn't realise this might not be the best idea. <Fusi, hold up!>

Monstereo transmits a request to the house sound system and it starts playing The Macarena.

Boomslang flies off with Fusillade to let her do the equivalent of walking off the extra fuel. A little while with afterburners open should do the trick.

With the usual ratcheting sound, Boomslang spins and flips and turns into a fighter jet.

F/A-18E "Super Hornet" <Boomslang> pchooooo

Boomslang vanishes out of reality.

Boomslang has left.

Space-Going B-1R Lancer gibbers out some damned incriminating stuff on the Decepticons' radio frequencies, but the miracle of the MACARENA summons her back like a siren song.

Space-Going B-1R Lancer waggles wings at Encore. "Heyyyyyyyyyyy. You're bvig-boned."

Cyclonus facepalms at the chaos unfolding around him. "At this point I'm finding that I'm beginning to miss Starscream...."

Darkwing has disconnected.

Wheeljack nods a little. "Yeah, I know. But I already settled that peace with 'em myself. I got lucky, and I'm not gonna squander the chance to help continue what we started four million years and some change ago. That's what they'd want. But," After the somber moment his optics perk up again, and he reachs over to grab a bottle of... whatever of a nearby table. "We can still have a toast in their honor, and everything they stood up for, right?"

Space-Going B-1R Lancer eventually gets corralled back to the bar, transforming back to robot mode before entering. "YOU TAKE THAT BACK CYCLONUS!! The fruity GIRL plane quota has already been met, by YOURS TRULY!" She dramatically tosses her head, and sidles back in, a little bit subdued as she tries to get a handle on herself. And other things.

The sleek bomber rears up, wings collapsing onto hips even as the rear fuselage splits to form arms. The horizontal stabilizer slides up, the forward fuselage folds up accordian style, and Fusillade hops up on thrustered feet.

Stegosaurus <Snarl> looks over at Sinnertwin dancing, makes a comment, "Me see DYING COCKROACH HAVE MORE RHYTHM!"

Encore grins and slots into formation with Fusi "Fat Albert chassis, yep!" He's not flying all that level, but he's just about managing it. He scowls a little and loads a small canister of enershine into the Bofors and grins.

<<Fusi, watch THIS!>> Possibly his famous last words as he begins to circle Cyc.

The Bofors gun goes off once and launches that enershine canister at, in theory, Cyclonus' forehead.

Monstereo cues a Starscream historical soundbyte for Cyclonus and pipes it through the house sound system cutting off the music for a moment: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YymBkEJEBKs

Impactor nods to Wheeljack with complete seriousness. A part of him wants to ask Wheeljack what he did with the data slug. The data slug he gave Wheeljack access to with news of the future. But then he decides it isn't his place. Whatever Jack decided, it's done now. He promised he'd respect it. Impactor raises his glass. "To the fallen Autobot heroes." he says.

Combat: Encore misses Cyclonus with his Bofors Beer Delivery attack! [Pulled -5]

Torque blinks when Sinnertwin joins her on stage, looking the fool as always. Sure, she's nervous about dancing, but him trying to steal her spotlight has her optics narrowing and fists clenching. "Erf... Frag off, yah idiot Con!" Fighting while drunk is nothing new to her, so she knows right where to aim after pulling a fist back and letting loose to knock him off the stage.

Once he goes tumbling off she nods to the DJ who queues up some smooth, upbeat tune to dance to. Slowly the music starts to run through her, the femme's now relaxed form starting to sway in time. As the beat gets more intense, so do her movements, hips fluidly gyrating like the other femmes working the joint, lightly armored midsection flexing nicely as she bends and shakes to the beat.

Cyclonus sighs at Fusillade. "Fine, I take it back." He grits his teeth at the "I'M STUPID!!!" soundbyte looping over and over. "Nnngh, truly no one is as aggravating as Starscream--" He catches a glint of something in a glass, spins around, and catches the canister of enershine in his hand. Then, as if he planned it, he pops the tab and drinks it right in front of Encore.

Fusillade clatters back into the bar that the other Cybertronians are in. Or at least she thinks so. "OH PITT UNICRON AUGH WHAT?~" she whips her hands up to cover her optics as she backpedals out of the trans-Siberian-cendental Tantric Quintesson-tial bar, and flees in terror, just in time to watch Cyclonus chug down the drink. "Oooh-OH-oh."

Encore transform-lands near Fusillade, throwing Cyclonus the bird, but at the same time, there's an admiring not there; Encore likes his style. To the point where he swaggers straight up to the Decepticon, and offers up his clench hand for a bro-fist. "Smooth."

Fusillade goes back to a mindless delerium throwdown dance-style. She may or may not end up near Sinnertwin's left head.

Unfortunately for Encore, Cyclonus is a jerk and kind of a buzzkill, so he just stares blankly at the fist, then up at Encore, as if to say, '*Really?*'

Fusillade pumps her little girly fists, and throws down electronica style. Her electro-phosphorescent markings leaving light trail afterimages on robo-retinas.

Encore shrugs a little "Ass." He mutters, wandering back to Fusillade. He gets two shots of something less enerholic and more energising, offering the other to Fusillade. "Purple Pep-Up, I call this. It's a milder liquor, and has similar effects to those energy shots the humans like. Oooh wow that's pretty"

"SHUT UP, DINO-BUTT!" Sinnertwin screams as he pelvic thrusts his way to dance victory. "I've got more ryhthm in my pinky finger than you and the other dinosaur idiots have combined. CHECK THIS OUT!" He starts doing the Charleston and he's actually not that bad at it. Unfortunately his perfomance is cut short when Torque slugs him across the face and sends him stumbling backwards off the stage and onto the floor with a crash.

"EEEWWW IT'S SO UGLEH!" he shouts at the dancing Torque after he picks himself up.

"Mmm, time to get some more energon to blow off on the afterburners, ha ha," Fusillade shouts into Encore's audial over the pumping beats. "Gonna have to do a barrel-roll around Orion's sphincter at THIS rate, haw haw!" She begins to undulate. She smacks lips, optics starting to settle, fuzzily at first, on Torque.

With that somber note out of the way, Impactor raises his glass again. This time it's for Torque. "Yeah! Doin' great, Torque! Keep workin' it!" He drains the glass, but most of it winds up over his face instead. Then he hears the Terrorcon slandering Autobot dancing. Dinobot dancing? Sure, Impactor's cool with that. But slamming /Autobot/ dancing?! "Yeah?" he snarls at Sinnertwin. He stands up, nearly falls over, grabs his stool, nearly falls over, stomps over to Sinnertwin, nearly falls over, and tries to slam him over the head with it. Either way, the stool shatters. Also either way, Impactor nearly falls over.

Wheeljack chugs back his own drink to the toast. Then drops the empty bottle back on the table. "On the bright side, I've got you guys to work with now." Glances over to were Snarl and Sinnertwin are still hassling each other. "And quite a few old comrades still around, too, heheh."

Fusillade says, "Whoa Sinner just did the Charleston"

Stegosaurus <Snarl> twists about to stuff the money into a subspace pocket for spending later. He turns his gaze to where Sinnertwin gets knocked off the stage, provoking a chuckle. He pads over to the stage, "Me think Torque GOOD dancer! She has MEAN left hook!"

Cyclonus sighs. "This is why I never go out to drink." He slowly makes his way back to his stool, and figures he might as well stay if only to keep his men (and women) from dying horribly.

Combat: Fusillade strikes Cyclonus with her Grab attack!

"I would've done it better had I not been RUDELY INTERRUPTED!" Sinnertwin shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth so Torque can hear his displeasure over the music. He shoots a look at Snarl and snorts, "Shut up, peanut-brain!"

Cyclonus never quite makes it there, as some she-devil lunatic tackles him from behind and sends sprawling onto the ground, knocking aside all the bar stools, including the one he wanted to sit on. "GAHHH!"

"Nnn, purple and dark charcoal grey look HOT together!" Fusillade hisses into Cyclonus's audial.

Encore chuckles and watches Fusillade, turning his attention to Torque and what's happening near her.

Monstereo takes out a disposable kodak with one shot left in it and takes a picture of Cyclonus downed with Fusillade on top at his audial.

Cyclonus peers back at Fusillade's head like she was a fellow inmate in a maximum security prison. "Er... actually, it is supposed to appear intimidating to the weak-willed." He lies there for a moment. "Oh. The Autobot up there..." He nods towards Torque. "I think I overheard her saying she's a much better dancer than you!"

"BOOOO! BOOOO! GET THAT /MAN/ OFF THE STAGE!" Sinnertwin jeers at Torque. He holds out two thumbs down at her and shakes his head. "BOOOO! HISSS! BOOOO! YOU SU-"

CRASH

Sinnertwin catches the stool with his head; bits and pieces of it flying in every direction as it pretty much disintegrates on impact. The Terrorcon drops like a bag of rocks and lay sprawled out on the floor.

Cyclonus remarks, "That's one down."

Encore watches Sinnertwin go down and there's an immediate shift in his demeanor. He begins to bounce a little from foot to foot, swinging his arms a little as he looks for someone - anyone - who looks like, if he punched them, they'd punch back with the understanding it's a bar brawl, and the aim is to have fun with it.

Fusillade coos out to Cyc, but refrains from abusing in that Galvatron-sorta-way, "Yeah, well we all know how damaged the Autobots are." She staggers back up to her feet, suddenly much more aware of her surroundings, and moving carefully in that 'drunk-but-aware-of-it' kind of way. "Lesse. Cyc. Boomer. Encore. Yup, that's sufficient for one night." She wobbily straddles a bar stool, and gyrates in lithe satisfaction upon it. She mock-punches in Encore's direction.

Impactor holds the shattered remains of two of the bar stool's legs in his hands as he stares down at Sinnertwin, wobbling unsteadily on his feet. "An' that'll teach ya... to..." wait, damn, why did Impactor come over here again? "...to be a Terrorcon." /Yeah/. He chucks the two stool legs over his shoulder... striking a huge, burly green scaled alien in the back by accident. The alien gets up, turns around, calmly dusts off the wooden splinters, gently puts down his glass of wine, and punches Impactor in the face, sending the Wrecker flying straight into Cyclonus.

Seems people forgot about the Dinobot on the premises. Snarl makes his way around to where he's behind Fusillade, transforming and going to put a hand on her shoulder, "ME SNARL SAY ENOUGH FIGHTING!"

The stego shifts, the front half twisting, the whole beast rising up, transforming into a robot form.

Torque sends a glare to Sinnertwin at the insult, but doesn't let it stop her as her hips sway and gyrate in a pendulum motion. Really she was just getting started. The music switches up a little and a loud hiss of pressure and some clicks is heard from the dancing femme, the heavy military plating of her armor suddenly releasing from their holds on her legs, arms, and midsection and clattering to the stage floor.

The near black armor that's left contrasts with the silver of the thin plating that's left elsewhere, giving her that 'Arcee' pattern, especially with the more slender legs. With a smirk she nudges the armor off the stage and amongst the crowd before reaching back to grab the pole behind her with both hands. It almost seems like she's done this before as strong arms pull her up, legs wrapping around the pole as she spins, doing a few rather fancy moves while a fight starts to break out among some of them. Well, at least the others get to enjoy.

Cyclonus staggers back up, thankful that that was the worst of it. Unfortunately, Impactor smashes him into him right after him, and Cyclonus staggers back into Fusillade, forced to sit onto her lap. "Argh! Damn you, Impactor! Get... off!" He flails about before finding a bottle from the bar, and smashes it over Impactor's head. Immediately, he wonders why he did that instead of simply pushing him off.

Monstereo stands up, military salutes Torque and says, "Schaaaaaa-wing."

Fusillade eees as a pile of mechs, well, pile into her. She clamps thighs around Cyclonus's head, and raises arms to clamp onto Snarl's thick, burly neck. "OKAY I'LL BE GOOD!!" She announces at him, which translates into...

Combat: Fusillade strikes Snarl with her I'll be good at being bad! (Ruckus) Area attack!

Combat: Fusillade strikes Cyclonus with her I'll be good at being bad! (Ruckus) Area attack!

Wheeljack takes a few steps back when Impactor goes swinging at Sinnertwin, just to not be caught in the back swing. Fortunately also out of the way of the green guy that comes to punch the Wrecker for getting hit with the debris. Then down at the Terrorcon on the ground. ".. oh, -that's- what this bar was missing," he murmurs as Impactor crashes into Cyclonus, and Fusillade... okay, not even sure how to describe that. ".. Um, Snarl, I'm not sure if you're old enough to be playing with femmes like -that-...."

"There's always room for jello," Sit-Com remarks.

Impactor smacks into Cyclonus (accidentally, of course), and gets a bottle over the head for his trouble. Normally this wouldn't be a big deal, but in this place? The bottles are /hard/. Shaking off the futuro-glass and liquid, Impactor snarls at the Decepticon second in command. "The frak did you do that for?! You want a fight, Cyc, you got it!" he shoves Cyclonus back, trying to knock him over the bar. Unfortunately this might just give Cyc more ammo. In the background, he can see Torque pole dancing. It gives him the strength he needs to be a bar asshole.

Snarl blinks as his neck is encircled by the femme Decepticon. He seems kinda confused, "Me NO SURE What I do here with her! IS She attacking me?!"

Cyclonus's optics bulge as Fusillade seizes her with her mighty thighs of death. "Fus..illade... you're... choking me!" he gasps, trying to pry himself free. His misfortune doesn't end there as Impactor sends him flying over the bar, with Fusillade still attached to his head. "HWUUURRGH!"

After this night, Cyclonus vows to himself, he will never visit a bar *again.*

Fusillade admits, "I can if you want, quit yer bi--"

Fusillade goes flying with Cyc. "WHEEEE!"

Cyc ain't gonna remember this night, so the vow means nothing.

Once over the bar, Cyclonus crashes to the ground. "Argh, release me, damn you!" he cries. The tender peers nervously at them, looks left then right, and baaaaacks away.

Fusillade moans, "Okay. Third time's the charm. I'll go find the Autobot, geeze. You really ARE devoted. I guess THAT's admirable. I wouldn't black your optics though," Fusillade sulks at Cyclonus, before wobbling back upright and glancing around for Encore. Or Torque. At this point, she wasn't being too picky.

'

Encore watches Cyclonus and Fusilalde go sailing over the bar with a laugh. He picks a target and points at Sinnertwin. "Buck-buck TWENTY!" He calls out, charging forwards towards the Decepticon, shoulders down as if he had a football tucked under one arm. He's looking forwards, but one can easily picture him putting his rounded helmet down just before impact. "Don't you-" He cuts off a moment to throw someone out of the way "-ing dare dodge me!"

Combat: Encore strikes Sinnertwin with his Buck-Buck 2-0! (Punch) attack!

Impactor meanwhile has gotten trapped in a headlock by the big green scaled alien, but he's fighting back with punches to the gut. He pushes off with his feet, knocking them both onto a table that promptly collapses. The couple at the table stand up and start kicking at them.

Sit-Com is sipping slowly at a dark blue drink, looking somewhat zombified.

Torque actually has to pause, the sounds of the fight finally starting to reach her through her own little drunken world on the pole, the femme staring at everyone as she hangs upside down, legs stretching out to the sides, giving her a T shape. "What the frag..." She blinks, then narrows her optics, huffing softly and dismounting from the dance pole, nearly unarmored form moving to the edge of the stage while hands rest on her hips. "I work up the courage to dance, n' you all start brawlin' without me." She rolls her optics.

"I'm coming!" Fusillade crows to Torque.

"Ahahahaha! You guys are a riot!" Wheeljack laughs as he slaps a knee... and unfortunately looses his balance in doing so and topples over backwards. "Whoa, guess I'm more drunk than I thought... Hey!" He barely manages to roll out of the way as the alien whom's tail he landed on turns around and tries to stomp on him. Lurching to sit up, he reachs aside to grab the first thing he can find as the alien lumbers towards him.

Which happens to be a discarded piece of... well, in this place you can imagine!.. from one of the female 'attendants'. "Good enough!" He twirls it briefly to get some momentum and throws it at the brute's head to cover his face. Then as the alien claws at it, gives him a kick for good measure, before bolting up for the stage. "And -now- I remember why we didn't get invited back to many bars in the old days!"

Dead End remains at the bar, nursing his drink and pretending he doesn't know what's happening around him. He just sips quietly, ducking the occasional projectile.

Snarl puts his hands around Fusillade's torso, trying to help her down off him, "Me sorry me not know how deal with you." He glances over at Wheeljack, perhaps asking for help

"Nnng.." Sinnertwin stirs from his concussion-fueled slumber. He pulls himself into a sitting position and lets his vision clear before standing up. "Did I just score?" he asks, looking at the chaos with a befuddled look. Before he can come to terms with what is happening, he gets sacked by Encore.

"WHAT THE HELL DID I DO TO YOU!? GET OFF ME, YOU SLAG-MUNCHER!" Sinnertwin hollers, trying to punch Encore in the head. He'll probably hurt his fists more than Encore.

Combat: Sinnertwin strikes Encore with his FISTS OF FURY (Punch) attack!

Fusillade stretching her hip servos to wade over the mechs punching each other in the mechly jaw. She squeaks and writhes in Snarl's arms, before being released like the hounds of war upon the inebriated masses. Eventually she finds her way to Torque, and slurs out a 'HEYYYYYY', supporting herself on one of the spare poles on stage. "Ey, have you ever hung upside down on one of these things? You can REALLY work up a heck of a spin on these! Enough to make THEM pay attention!" She gesticulates unclearly at Sinnertwin and Encore making out. With fists.

Cyclonus glares at Fusillade as he pulls himself up. Damn, she's worse than Galvatron when she's drunk. "What are you implying by that? Devoted? Of course I am, what advisor SHOULDN'T be devoted to his Lord--" But then Fusillade's already charging off. "Right." He limps over to where the DJ is. "You... put on something relaxing. That might put an end to the fight." The DJ shrugs, and replies, "Sure, there's this old hit from Earth..." He hits a few buttons...

It's Friday, Friday

Gotta get down on Friday Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend, weekend

"ARGH THAT'S HORRIBLE!" Cyclonus cries.

Encore thrusts a small vial of red stuff at Sinnertwin even as the Con whales on him, denting his faceplate up. Worryingly, this only makes the Autobot grin wider. "Yeah you're in the spirit of it! BAR BRAWL, y'dig? Good, drink that, shut up, an' get read ta eat it."

He gives Sinnertwin enough time to drink the Red Rage, forcing it upon the Con if he must. As the drink begins to take effect, it causes a sudden surge of awareness and a kind of happy anger, the urge to just fight for the sheer hell of fighting - to hell with lethal weapons.

Then, once he sees the drink taking effect, he attempts to kick the Con in the groinal plate!!

Combat: Encore strikes Sinnertwin with his Kick 'im inna rocks (Kick) attack!

Monstereo turns to a space trucker and asks in a hillbilly accent, "You wanna fight?" The space trucker replies in the same twangy accent, "Them there's fightin' words." And they start punching eachother.

KONNGGG

"Oh, you don't like that?" the DJ says. "Well, try this..."

Let me sail, let me sail,

Let the Orinoco Flow,

Let me reach, let me beach

"Ahh--hm." Cyclonus thinks to himself as he listens. "Well, that isn't as aggravating." He listens a while longer, sighs. "Now I'm annoyed. Nevermind, play the dreck you were playing before." He walks away from the DJ in disgust, casually backhanding an alien as he goes.

Torque observes the fight for a little longer before she steps down from stage, about to gather up her dropped armor. Well, she would if it wasn't already pilfered by the crowd. "Damn..." She mutters softly before having a seat back at the table she was at before. Sure, Torque loved to fight, but right now she just wants to drink. So she snatches up a few beers and casually sips at them while sitting amongst the chaos of the bar. Ahh, this was a good night.

Impactor and the huge alien he's wrasslin' with wipe out a pair of exotic male dancers before Impactor finally manages to get a grip on him, lift him up, and chuck him into a wall. Impactor fist pumps before turning back around to see how Encore and Sinnertwin are doing. He also idly wonders what that Primus awful music is that the DJ's put on. Before he can ask, the alien backhanded by Cyclonus slams into him, bounces, and hits the ground. Impactor kicks him one for good measure.

Fusillade says, "EYYYY where you goin'?" Fusillade asks Torque, frowning a bit before she glances around. Feh. Boomslang was nowhere to be seen, Encore Sinnertwin Wheeljack and Torque were being quiet, Cyclonus and Impactor had crossed over into being surly drunks. She huffs quietly, before hiccuping again and shifting weight as an uncomfortable sensation in one of her subspace pockets began to make itself known."

Snarl RAHRS, and transforms, "ME SAY ENOUGH FIGHTING!" He moves to wade into the mess, applying tail, and feet to the rugby match in the bar, uncaring that he's making a heck of a mess

The bot's middle twists, arms rotating, legs, head and tail popping out to reveal a stego

Cyclonus smirks at Impactor. "Ah--I did not see you there, Impactor! If I had, I would have backhanded YOU instead." And he continues to walk past him. Surely that put the Wrecker in his place.

Sinnertwin squirms and struggles, doing the best he can to keep from ingesting that red stuff. "HELP! This crazy Autobot is trying to poison me!" He tries to slap it out of the way but Encore is really adamant about getting this stuff into him and practically forces it down his throat. It doesn't take long for the effects to start taking hold and soon enough the Terrorcon is grinning a toothy grin and his eyes almost seem to be glowing. Then Encore kicks him in the robocrotch.

"I NEED AN ADULT!" Sinnertwin bellows before leaping onto the larger Autobot with enough ferocity to make a honey badger uncomfortable.

"Excuse me!" Wheeljack passes Torque getting down from the stage on his scramble up, as it seems to be the only sane place in the entire bar. Then takes a step back as Cyclonus stomps by, glances the way he came... and his face lights up. "That gives me an idea..." Fleeing the crowd decending into madness, the crackpot inventor dives into the DJ booth.

But instead of harassing the DJ himself, ducks under the console and starts messing around in the electronics. "Subsonic woofer... hypersonic woofer... synthesizer interface...."

He stops and stands up a moment eyeing the component in his hand. ".. Eh, don't need an equalizer for this!" He turns and tosses it over his shoulder, clonking some random parton on the head with the discarded part and ducking back down again. Assorted wires and other bits of muscial hardware occasionally shuffle about.

Combat: Sinnertwin strikes Encore with his Smackdown attack!

Fusillade fidgets, and clacks her fist against her chestplate, popping open her central chest armor. "Hey how'd this get here?" A glow as blue as Shockwave's reactor fills her immediate area as she produces a suspiciously planted Cherenkov Blue, holding it up to the bar's ambient light and admiring it. A disarmed 1000-lb bomb cljmps to the ground as she takes a long sip. However, this one serving, secreted upon her person, gets preserved. Fusillade restrains herself, and stows it away for later. Satan revs up his snowblower.

Torque's gaze shifts back when Fusillade calls to her, the femme sending her a wry little smirk while holding up a bottle she'd snagged. "Eh, why not just come over and have a drink instead of fight me, yeah?" She wiggles the bottle temptingly at the Con, sending her a drunken little wink.

Dead End finishes off his last glass and stands, remaining wary of any flying objects/chairs/bots/whatever. Shaking his head, the Stunticon tosses the last of of Sinnertwin's cash down as a tip and makes his way, carefully, to the door. Always better to stay out of unnecessary skirmishes than waste energy for nothing. Skirting around the scuffle, he pushes his way through the door and is gone without a word.

Impactor fists a fist, "Spoken like the pussy you are, Cyc. *If*. Yeah, sure. You just don't wanna mess with a..." Impactor loses his train of thought as Snarl comes by. What was he talking about again? Something about... pussy cats? The hell? The Wrecker wobbles a bit, staring at Cyclonus with a blank look. A quick glance to Wheeljack for assistance doesn't help him magically remember what's going on. Then there's this big blue light distracting him. He hesitates, realizing that he's expected to say something witty to Cyc, but he can't think of what. "...frak you, Cyc." Aw yeah, Impactor thinks. Nailed it.

Combat: Stegosaurus <Snarl> sets its defense level to Fearless.

Fusillade's hands wave around in the air like she just don't care. "Kay," she says to Torque. "HEYYYYYYYYY. What kinda horsepower YOU got?" She shimmies over to the other femme, her yellow eyespot rings leaving glowing trails in her wake.r

Encore looks at Snarl "Relax, it's a Bar Brawl. Join in!" He declares, before Sinnertwin gets him a good one. The big Autobot goes crashing into a table, destroying it utterly in the process. He laughs and picks up a chair, lobbing it at Sinnertwin! "Oi, Fugly! CATCH!" he shouts, as the chair begins to spin through the air!

Dead End vanishes out of reality.

Dead End has left.

Combat: Encore strikes Sinnertwin with his Suddenly CHAIR! (Ruckus) Area attack!

Combat: Encore misses Fusillade with his Suddenly CHAIR! (Ruckus) Area attack!

Combat: Stegosaurus <Snarl> strikes Sinnertwin with its Sleep! attack! [Pulled -6]

Monstereo pauses in mid punch exchange to snap his head around to stare at Impactor and the word he used. The space trucker keeps up his own punching rhythm without noticing the counter beat is now missing, and Monstereo gets knocked down.

"AH!! Watch it jerkface! Here's your damned stogie back~!" Fusillade shouts at Enfore, and tosses the remnant at him. She continues to stagger toward Torque. "Aww girlie don't look so sad I can show you some moves on the stage if you want."

Cyclonus huffs at Impactor over his shoulder, "Ha! Witty as ever, Wrecker. Truly your words sting more than your weapons. Though perhaps that's not much of a compliment." And he tries to right the stool he was sitting on earlier... get back on it...

"Showed you," Impactor retorts to Cyclonus. Whatever the hell that means. He stumbles back to his table, but for some reason he can't find his stool. Some ass hole must have used it in the bar brawl. Figures. He heads on over to Torque's instead, then.

Fusillade says, "Back off, Impactor, the @(*^$# is mine!"

You say, "Huh? Which @(*^$#?"

Fusillade hooks hands into claws.

Torque snorts softly and grins slyly, setting down the bottle. "Horsepower? Eh, enough to get my way, I suppose. By the way..." The booze is starting to work its magic again, and the Bot is getting flirtacious once more. Swiftly she reaches out to grab hold of one of the golden prongs framing Fusillade's face, using impressive strength to drag her /much/ closer. "..I really like the paint. Suits you." And without really knowing what she's doing Torque yanks Fusillade into a lip lock whether she likes it or not, distracting her from Impactor when he comes up.

Sit-Com is still rather out of it when he sees his Junk-brother get punched. He jumps up and tries to punch whoever punched him!

Impactor stares. "..."

Monstereo should have saved his one kodak shot for that... but then again he's on the floor and doesn't see it.

Cyclonus is on his stool drinking his drink, his back to the robo-lesbianism. He wouldn't have really approved, anyway.

And for the second time tonight, Sinnertwin takes another piece of butt-resting furniture to the head, adding to his already impressive head trauma. And then Snarl slaps him around with his tail and, ugh, it's not a good day to be Sinnertwin. "YOU SONS OF BITCHES! I'M GOING TO TAKE YOU BOTH DOWN!" He turns around and picks up a chair/weapon but finds himself frozen in place by the majestic wonder that is unfolding in front of him. His jaw drops and he places the chair back down, now opting to sit in it and watch the show.

"Now smell her a little," Sinnertwin whispers, rubbing his hands together as he watches Fusillade and Torque.

Unfortunately he's down messing with the equipment so Wheeljack didn't get to see that. The DJ just looks downright mordified at whatever the hell the engineer is doing with his equipment.

Wheeljack finally stands up again and discards a few more wires off to the side. Then picks up one of the control boards, adjusting the dials and sliders a bit. "Well, this will either stop the fighting.... or make the hangovers even worse in the morning. But what's science without the experimenting, eh?" He passes the control board to the DJ to hold, so his hands are free to pull out a big red button from subspace, and wire it in. Just so he has a big red button to ceremoniously smash with his fist!

Abruptly every speaker and emitter in the bar blares to life with the rediculously over the top 80's style dance music, sending the stage lights into a chaotic chorography of flashing psychedelic lights as the sound system spits out deafening bass and screaming electronica than it was ever meant to across the entire bar. There's probably windows and bottles shattering clear across the other side of Planet XXX!

"MMMMF!" Fusillade protests, although her virtues on the battlefield focus more on artillery and ranged battle than melee. She squirms wildly, but manages to pant out, "Wanna see how to do a barrel roll?" she gives a quick sharp bite on Torque's glossa, before jabbing a finger commandingly at the dance floor and stage, as two sturdy drapes descend. She hauls Torque over, and tugs on one of the amethyst drapes, inverting herself and performing gymnastic feats. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hru6rXCE7rA

Combat: Wheeljack strikes Cyclonus with his CRANK IT UP TO ELEVEN! (Full-Auto) Area attack!

Combat: Wheeljack strikes Fusillade with his CRANK IT UP TO ELEVEN! (Full-Auto) Area attack!

Combat: Wheeljack strikes Sinnertwin with his CRANK IT UP TO ELEVEN! (Full-Auto) Area attack!

Combat: Wheeljack strikes Impactor with his CRANK IT UP TO ELEVEN! (Full-Auto) Area attack!

Combat: Wheeljack (Wheeljack) used "Full-Auto": A Level 2 AREA-RANGED attack.

Combat: You took 4 damage.

Combat: Wheeljack strikes Torque with his CRANK IT UP TO ELEVEN! (Full-Auto) Area attack!

Combat: Wheeljack strikes Encore with his CRANK IT UP TO ELEVEN! (Full-Auto) Area attack!

Combat: Wheeljack strikes Stegosaurus <Snarl> with his CRANK IT UP TO ELEVEN! (Full-Auto) Area attack!

Impactor, for the first time in his life, feels that maybe... just maybe... there could be peace between the Autobots and Decepticons. Then everything aroudn him shatters from the loud music. Impactor tilts, teeters, and falls to the ground. The last he sees is Fusillade tugging the drapes.

Sinnertwin's audials blow out and he can't hear anything at this point (thank you, Wheeljack.) But that's okay because he's focused on other things right now. "WAIT!" he shouts extra loudly. "COME BACK! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO WATCH YOU MAKE OUT OVER THERE!?"

Stegosaurus <Snarl> staggers a few paces by the music, his eyes wide, before the stegosaurus goes crazy! He romps, twisting and whipping his tail around, rahring! applying tail, head, and other things to bots indescriminately

Encore is as distracted as Sinnertwin, his eyes quite firmly locked on Fusillade on Torque. 'Bugger the chair I ain't moving' Encore thinks to himself, wincing and snarling at the noise. He picks up a poolcue and launches it at Wheeljack "You dick'ed you're interrupting somethin' awesome!"

Combat: Encore misses Wheeljack with his Don't spoil the gorram SHOW! (Kick) attack!

Cyclonus's glass shatters in his hands and he bellows in shock. "ARRRGH!"

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "Hm.. you guys ever get the strange feeling that you're missing out on something awesome?"

Combat: Stegosaurus <Snarl> strikes Sinnertwin with its A whole lotta shakin' goin' on! Area attack! [Pulled -4]

Combat: Stegosaurus <Snarl> misses Impactor with its A whole lotta shakin' goin' on! Area attack! [Pulled -4]

Combat: Stegosaurus <Snarl> (Snarl) used "Dino Rampage": A Level 0 AREA-MELEE attack.

Combat: Stegosaurus <Snarl> strikes Wheeljack with its A whole lotta shakin' goin' on! Area attack! [Pulled -4]

<Autobot> First Aid says, "No, not really."

Impactor pushes himself up off the floor, pukes, rolls over, and lays on his back. This happily lets him avoid Snarl's tail.

Monstereo pries himself off the floor, more out of revulsion at the thought of what may be on it than out of any sense of self preservation fromthe sound of stego-stomping. And he drunken kung-fu manuevers his way through the brawl to the exit.

Sit-Com quickly follows Monstereo when the stego starts trampling. "Ay yi yi," he says, weaving his way through the crowd like a ballet dancer. He's just buzzed enough to flow freely but not blitzed enough to be stumbling over his own two feet. "Freedom!"

"Atta boy Snarl! Show 'em some real dancin' down the -- What?!" Wheeljack ducks the cue thrown at him, the end of the stick stabbing into the wall behind him. "What's going on that I missed?" Not that he can be heard over his own obnoxiously loud assault.

Besides, before he can get an answer Snarl's dino 'dancing' slams into the DJ stand, sending the entire set-up crashing over in a heap of musical equipment and electronics. Fortunately it -does- stop the racket. And causes the DJ to faint.

And Wheeljack staggers out of the wreck "I'm okay!" Picks up his last drink and chugs it down. "It's just a little messAWK!" He goes to lean on the pile of equipment but misses, and ends up falling off the stage. He lands on his shoulders, propped up against the front the stage with his legs in the air. ".. Okay, maybe I've had a weeeee too much now.... I'm gonna just lay here now..."

With all of the fighting and loud blaring of the stereos going on Torque can be seen in the back.. wrestling with Fusillade? Or at least was as she hefts the flier over her shoulder like a prize, a drunken grin spread over her face while starting to stroll on out for the night.

Fusillade squeals and balls up her fists in tihy girly black gauntlets and pounds against Torque's chest in that same delightfully futile way generally reserved for Astrotrain and Blitzwing. "Nuuuuu! I'm telling! You're gonna get in trouble with Prowl! Oh wait he's dead! I'm gonna get in trouble with Soundwave and Cyclonus and reeeee..." away into the night like a fading Doppler effect.

Loadout was outside all of this time, probably getting his composure back. When he was satisfied that he was, more or less, back to normal, he had made his way back into the bar to hopefully convince the other Autobots it was time to go home.

Opening the door, he just stands in the entranceway, staring and with his mouth open wide. A few seconds later...he lets the door close once more, without once having stepped inside.

Sinnertwin gets hit in the face by a rampaging stegosaur's tail, knocking him clean out of his chair. It's probably better this way because he'd be sitting in that chair waiting for more sexiness to play out in front of him for months. Also, being on the floor just means he can collect some of that money he's been throwing around. "Yaaaaaay.." Sinnertwin croaks out as he clutches a dollar bill, energon dribbling from his nostrils.

Monstereo has disconnected.

Stegosaurus <Snarl> seems to have gotten into the swing of things, or he's in full dinobot destruction mode. Anyone close to him risks more stego imprints and tails and feetsies and spikes

Galvatron has arrived.

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "...Huh."

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "I want to say the feeling is getting stronger but that's probably just crazy talk, right?"

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "I mean, surely nothing cool can happen unless I'm involved."

<Autobot> First Aid says, "Powerglide, I'm sure you're not missing out on anything."

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "Nn..if you say so."

<Autobot> First Aid says, "Although it is the weekly Protectobot charity drive down at the soup kitchen. Maybe that's what you were missing?"

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "I, uh...I don't think so Aid. I really don't."

<Autobot> First Aid says, "Hmm. Well, that's about all I can think of as far as cool things that's happened lately."

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "Hrnn...well....let me know if you hear anything. Ugh, I swear something is goin' on. I have a sixth sense about this sort of thing you know."

Stegosaurus <Snarl> stops his single stego rampage, looking back and forth, "GOOD! NO MORE FIGHT!" His tail swishs, turning

<Autobot> Snarl says, "ME STOP FIGHT IN BAR!"

<Autobot> Sergeant Encore says, "...But da fight's the whole point, Snarl"

<Autobot> Wheeljack urgs. "I think he did purdy good for the fight to stop it."

<Autobot> Torque says, "Ah, too bad I couldn't join the fight. Too busy drinkin'."

<Autobot> Victory Leo says, "There was a fight and no one invited me?"

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "There was drinking and no one invited /me/?"

<Autobot> Torque chuckles

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "Totally unfair you guys. I wanted to hang out with Wheeljack too, you know!"

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "We go waaaaaaaaaaaaay back. Right 'Jack? Buddy? Buddy boy? Buddy boy pal buddy?"

<Autobot> Snarl says, "Me think of less expensive way to break things"

<Autobot> Sergeant Encore says, "Ooooh boy lol"

<Autobot> Sergeant Encore says, "We're in da shit"

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "OH MY GOD"

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "WHAT"

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "what"

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "WHAT"

<Autobot> Sergeant Encore says, "Check the newscast."

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "ARE YOU KIDDING?"

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "ARE YOU FRIGGIN KIDDINGME?"

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "THIS IS IT."

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "THIS IS WHAT I WAS FEELING."

<Autobot> First Aid says, "You sure?"

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "I KNEW I WAS MISSING OUT ON SOMETHING! I FRIGGIN KNEW IT!"

<Autobot> Powerglide can be heard throwing stuff around

<Earth> Backtalk says, "In further news, Galvatron on barely controlled rampage as Decepticons attempt to placate him. Are they lying or genuine? Only time will tell!"

<Autobot> Torque says, ".......................................I'm gonna kill him"

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "NO! DON'T!"

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "I need that picture he has."

<Autobot> Sergeant Encore says, "Haw haw!"

<Autobot> Wheeljack says, "... What? What now? Geez, what ticked Powerglide off?"

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "Uhm, I'll tell you what."

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "APPARENTLY I missed out on one of the hottest things I would have ever seen."

<Autobot> Powerglide says, "APPARENTLY no one makes out which eachother when I'm around."

<Autobot> Rodimus Prime says, "It sounds like a whole bunch of you have had quite enough for tonight. Might be time to charter a shuttle home."

<Autobot> Impactor says, "...Prime..."

<Autobot> Impactor says, "...get someone over here to post our bail, will ya?"

<Autobot> Torque says, "You guys shuttle back without me. I'll... be here a while"

<Autobot> Wheeljack says, ".. ah, crup."

Foxfire has disconnected.

<Autobot> Repugnus says, "Send pictures! Heeheehee!"

<Autobot> Powerglide makes a sound like his head is exploding.

<Autobot> Torque says, "Shut up, Repugnus. Just /shut up/."

<Autobot> Repugnus cackles evilly.

<Autobot> Snarl says, "Me think Torque be torturing Fusillade for information!"

<Autobot> Wheeljack says, "I.. think I'm just gonna pass back out now. Hurrah"

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Message: 15/2                     Posted        Author

Re: Operation: Party The F--- Out Sat Jan 21    Impactor

--

Autobot spinny.

MISSION SUCCESSFUL.

Autobot spinny.

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