Inquiry from the mind: Do you hear something?

Response from the body: Yes. What is that?

Mind: It sounds like someone is pounding on the bedroom door.

Body: No, no, no. Not THAT sound. The other one.

Mind: You mean the screams? I think they’re coming from the living room. Weren’t the Maximals in there?

Body: No, the OTHER sound. The one from downstairs.

Mind: Oh. I think that’s the TV. Maybe the Predacons are watching it.

Body: Okay, just wanted to know. I’m going back to sleep now.

Mind: Don’t any of those sounds alarm you?

Body: Not particularly. It’s too early to be alarmed.

Mind: Roll over. See? There’s the clock, and it says it’s only 2:00 AM. You’ve only been asleep three hours.

Body: So?

Mind: It’s summer. 2:00 AM still counts as staying up late. Anytime after 3:00 AM is morning, and therefore too early.

Body: Oh. Right.

Mind: Now get up.

Body: In your dreams and my nightmares.

Mind: Very funny. I’m hoping this IS just a nightmare, though.

Body: Why?

Mind: HELLO?! Screams? Someone at the bedroom door? That doesn’t sound very good!

Body: Big deal.

Mind: Get up!

Body: Nah. Sleep sounds like more fun to me.

Mind: Predacons watching late night TV shows.

Body: Why should that--? I’M UP!

I sat up in bed with a moan listening to my body complain. "Shut up, you," I mumbled absently. I blearily glanced around my bedroom. Nothing alarming in here. I could safely go back to sleep.

I was burying myself under my blankets when my mind gave me a sharp poke, and I sat back up with a sigh. "You can shut up, too," I half-snarled in irritation. The urgent knocking on the door was giving me almost as much of a headache as the argument between me, myself, and I.

With Tylenol and beating someone’s head in foremost in my mind, I dragged myself out of bed, flung on a robe, and stomped over to the door. I jerked it open.

"WHAT?!"

Rattrap yelped and hid behind Dinobot. The taller Maximal looked up at me and gulped. I guess something of what I was thinking must have showed, because he slowly backed away from me. Smart ‘bot. Only the fact that my body didn’t want to put that much effort forth prevented me from lunging after him. I was NOT a happy person.

"Um, one of your brothers is trying to take apart Optimus," Dinobot quavered.

"Don’t care," I growled and slammed the door. A moment later the words actually got through the sleep-induced haze around my mind, and I hauled the door open again. "Just a second," I said curtly and shuffled back into my room.

I located my teddy bear collection on the floor where the Beast Warriors had left it. I dug through it and touched something wooden. I still hadn’t turned on the lights, so I wasn’t completely sure what I took out of the stuffed animal pile was what I was looking for, but I was PRETTY sure. At least, I didn’t know what else would be in the middle of my teddy bear collection...

When I re-emerged from my room, I must have frightened Rattrap and Dinobot again. They fled down the hall in front of me. I couldn’t really blame them. I was ticked. And I was armed...

I stormed down the hall and into the kitchen. From there I could see my mechanic-obsessed brother Rolland holding down a struggling Optimus in the living room. Silverbolt, Cheetor, and Blackarachnia were attempting to hold back Rolland while Rhinox and Depth Charge tried to pry Optimus loose.

"Rolland!" I screamed and leaped into the fray. Unlike the Beast Warriors, however, I was my proper size, and I had a weapon. I began beating my brother with the baseball bat I was carrying.

Before you get the idea that I was hurting Rolland, I should explain this particular baseball bat. It’s about a foot long (one of those souvenirs you get at ball parks) and made of wood. After I had gotten home after buying it, I had gotten some rubber foam and wrapped it around the bat.. Viola! My own Nerf bat!

It meant that I could beat on my brothers without actually hurting them...much.

It took a little while, but eventually Rolland noticed me. "What do you want?" he asked blankly.

I just stared at him for a moment. Optimus was still screaming, Rolland had the tip of a screwdriver wedged in one of the transformer’s joints, and he had no idea what I wanted? How brainless WAS he?

That was a rhetorical question, by the way.

"Rolland, the person you are attempting to take apart is a guest of mine," I said as clearly as possible.

My brother looked between me and Optimus while the other Maximals held their breath. "But he’s metal," he protested.

I nodded. "Uh-huh."

"And MOVING!"

I rolled my eyes. "Really. I hadn’t noticed."

"You hadn’t?" He brightened. "Well, if you’d just give me a little while, I could find out why--"

"No," I said firmly and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. "You will NOT take apart my guests," I continued as I marched him away from the Maximals and through the kitchen.

"Why not?" Rolland asked while stumbling down the stairs after me.

I drew on the last dregs of my patience. Big, dumb, and mechanically inclined, that’s my brother. "It’s not polite."

My brother stood there at the bottom of the stairs for a minute considering that. "Oh," he said finally, and then turned and went down the hall to his room. I gazed after him, thinking over that yes, I was in fact related to him, and that yes, bludgeoning him to death would get me time in jail. But if I was in jail, I wouldn’t have to put up with several HASBRO-induced annoyances...

Speaking of those annoyances, I turned to deal with the ones on the other side of the room. There was a TV there. It was the old one my parents had put down there when we had gotten the new TV. It had no VCR and only picked up one channel reliably. Unfortunately, that one channel happened to show old re-runs of popular talk shows late at night. Jerry Springer featured prominently. The TV was on, and the volume was up all the way.

Did you know that the Predacons act kind of weird when they get tired but can’t sleep? Did you know that weirdness is easily influenced by their surroundings? Did you know the Predacons know how to lip-sinc? Did you know that Megatron does a pretty good imitation of Jerry Springer, and Quickstrike and Tarantulas CAN act like an married couple of inbred-white-trailer-trash? And did you know that Rampage and Inferno have been having a torrid affair with them both, but they were secretly jealous of the marriage? And that Terrorsaur is really Inferno’s brother?

No, I didn’t know any of that, either.

"And how did that make you feel?" Megatron asked in a concerned way. That is to say, Jerry Springer asked that on the TV, but Megatron lip-sincked so well it SEEMED that he had said it, so...um, let’s just say Megatron asked the question.

Tarantulas started to sob into his hands. According to what I could see of the TV screen, he must have been playing the part of the trailer-trash wife, because that was what she was doing. "I-I just want to s-say," he, er, she, er, Tarantulas lifted his face and looked at his/her husband, Quickstrike, "that...YOU’RE A SADISTIC SON OF A (*beeeeeep!*)!" the TV show censor kicked in. The spider jumped out of the folding chair he was sitting in, and then lifted it and bashed it over Quickstrike’s head.

Rampage, who was apparently acting the part of the woman having an affair with the fuzor, immediately retaliated by grabbing Tarantulas’s little horn thingies (in place of hair, I guess) and screaming obscenities. That involved Inferno, who was acting as Tarantulas’s boyfriend. Quickstrike and him got in a fistfight (well, in the case of Quickstrike, he doesn’t HAVE fists, but...) and rolled around on the floor yelling. That involved Terrorsaur, who was acting as Inferno’s brother...

Megatron/Jerry Springer stood there calmly. "If everybody would just calm down, we could discuss how the audience feels about this..."

I decided that the worst part of this was that I couldn’t choose between separating the Predacons or getting some popcorn and sitting down to watch the spectacle. The scene was spectacular, really. Even late-night-weirdness couldn’t explain this!

Unfortunately for my sanity, I reluctantly decided to break up the fight. I HAD told the Preds not to turn on the TV, after all. And besides, Waspinator was missing.

"All right, who turned on the TV?" I interrupted, walking over and turning it off. The Predacons stopped acting in mid-fight (although Rampage DID whap Tarantulas over the head with the chair) and stared at me. "Well?" I asked impatiently.

For a moment nothing happened, but then they all pointed...to Tarantulas. Why was I not surprised? He got up from the floor, shoving the chair off of himself as I glared. The spider squirmed uncomfortably.

"No breakfast for you," I said firmly. That may seem like a mild punishment at first, but you haven’t seen how much food Tarantulas eats per day! He winced and started to say something, but I just looked at him. He shut up.

"Hey, where’s Waspinator?" I asked Megatron. I was NOT going to ask why the Predacons had been acting out the Jerry Springer show. Frankly, I thought I was better off not knowing. Hmmm, it seemed to have snapped Megatron out of his ‘kid-mode’ thing from yesterday, though...Rolland’s attack probably had done the same thing to Optimus. One good thing, I guess.

The tyrant glanced around. "Isn’t he down here? Oh. I guess not." He shrugged. "I don’t know. The stupid insect probably saw something shiny and chased after it." None of the Predacons seemed disturbed, but I was. People didn’t go ‘mysteriously’ missing at my house. Usually there was no mystery about it...

I found them in Paul’s room.

"Let him go!" I bopped my brother over the head with my baseball bat. He snarled up at me, but let Waspinator go. The Predacon woozily staggered out the door when I pushed him, warily watching Paul as I went.

I had never seen him give up his prey so easily before...

"Are you alright?" I stopped the wasp in the hall, crouching down until I was at his eye level. "Did he hurt you?" Who KNOWS how long Paul had been with Waspinator before I had found him!

"I’m fine," Waspinator told me softly, rubbing the side of his neck.

"You’re sure," I asked.

"Just...fine."

I hesitantly let him go back into the room with the Predacons. "Well, okay." I went back up the stairs and to my room, grumbling to myself all the way. It was only after I had laid back down in bed that I realized Waspinator had been talking IN FIRST PERSON.

I debated getting up and checking it out, but this time my body won the argument. As I fell asleep again, though, I vaguely remembered something else I had seen; Waspinator’s hadn’t exactly been rubbing his neck. He had been rubbing at the two holes there...

My Sunday morning wake-up call came in its usual form, that of my religiously-crazed brother Newton. The call DIDN’T come at his usual time, though. The church service starts at 10:00 AM during the summer, so he let me sleep in for an hour.

Whoop-dee-do. 6:00 AM is still WAY too early.

"Go away," I mumbled when I heard him coming down the hall to my room. His approach was kind of hard to miss. He was singing a hymn at the top of his voice. It’s funny; he lives in a room with Sean, who has possibly the best musical rhythm and tone I’ve ever heard, but he STILL sings off-key...

"Get up, you Spawn of Satan!" Newton shouted as he burst into my room. "It is time for you to kneel on Holy Ground and Pray for Forgiveness of your many Sins!" I had never thought it was possible to actually HEAR the capital letters in words, but Newton managed somehow. "Wake! It is Time to go to God’s House, where we will Praise His Name and..."

He went on like that for about ten minutes. I know because I was watching the clock, reaffirming to myself that it was TOO SLAGGING EARLY FOR THIS!!! It’s not that all Christians get under my skin, no, just this one. I personally am not a Christian, mostly because I was sick of having the religion SHOVED down my THROAT like Newton seemed to delight in doing!

Do you get the feeling I was a teensy bit angry at my brother? Good, because you’re right. He was still prattling on about the wonders that What’s-His-Name, the visiting minister who’d be preaching today (a very narrow-minded reverend who thought all non-Christians were child-raping murderers, or at least that was the impression I got from his sermon last week), had revealed to him through his sermon.

"Newton, church doesn’t start for another four hours," I muttered.

"So?!" he asked indignantly. "We will Pray--"

I muffled his voice by using a pillow to block my ears. Eventually he got tired of talking to himself or something, and he left. Finally. A couple minutes later I could dimly hear tires squeal from outside. Okay, so Newton was going to go pray by himself. Apparently the rest of my family wasn’t as enthusiastic as he was, either.

So...I was awake. Being awake is overrated. Newton’s jabbering had gotten me past the point where I could easily go back to sleep, so I couldn’t do that. I could try...but I’d have to get up for church later, so there really wasn’t any point to that. And so...I was awake. I should do something crazy--people expect that when I’m awake. It occurred to me that me being awake IS crazy. Okay, so I’ve fulfilled my imaginary quota of craziness. Anything else from here was extra.

Eventually I rolled over as the thought of Maximals and Predacons entered my mind. Newton had probably woke them up, too, so that meant they were probably wreaking havoc in my house...

"I’ll rise, but I won’t shine," I sighed as I oozed my way out of the comfy warmth of my bed. I shuffled towards the door and came face to face with my reflection. Sometimes I really hate that mirror. "Well, I’m certainly not shining. Ick, it’s the incredible Lady Dementia and her side-kick, Hair-of-Death." I stuck out my tongue at The Demented Angel and grabbed a hairbrush. A quick pass with it caused Hair-of-Death to be afflicted by... puffiness. There was no other word for it. It actually caused me to look WORSE.

I shrugged. "Works for me." So I looked horrible. Hair-of-Death had never been better...

A couple minutes later I watched the last of the Maximals and Predacons disappear behind the couch and knew that Hair-of-Death was a great sidekick. I hadn’t even said a word, and the Maximals and Predacons had stopped fighting. I blinked in response to the sudden silence. Well, it was silent in comparison to the previous noise level.

Mind: What’s that sound?

Body: The pathetic whimpering? That’s the Maximals and Predacons.

Mind: No, no, no. The OTHER sound.

Body: The screaming?

Mind: No, not that--wait a minute, did you say screaming?

Body: Yeah, it’s coming from Terrorsaur. Hey, what’s Waspinator doing to him, anyway?

Mind: STOP HIM!!

I reached down and lifted Waspinator off of Terrorsaur, who clutched his neck and howled in pain. He scurried away from us and ran behind the couch. I didn’t watch him go.

"What the heck were you doing?" I asked mildly.

"Getting breakfast."

Out of Terrorsaur? That sounded like something Paul might...do...Crud. I had seen this before. It was the Placebo affect. You know, when you think something happens, and it does. Like when you take a pain-killer for a headache, and the headache goes away immediately, even before the pain-killer would have had time to affect you.

Anyway, this had happened before. My brother Paul had bit my brother Sean on the neck, and then Sean started acting like a vampire. The thing is, Paul wasn’t a vampire, so therefore he wouldn’t have been able to change Sean into a vampire. But Sean believed he was a vampire, just like Paul did, so...

Fortunately, my family had eventually found a solution to the situation I was presented with, and just as fortunately, we were about to go to the solution. All I would have to do was control Waspinator until I could convince him he WASN’T a vampire...but I had some techniques I could use. After all, they worked on Paul...

I carried him into the kitchen and got out a jar of minced garlic (yummy!). Waspinator screamed. I ignored him and continued working. When I was finished, I plopped him into the circle of garlic I had just painted onto the floor and thought frantically. What could I do to keep the wasp in the circle? He might just fly out if I didn’t do something!

What I needed was something I could, um, chant. Yeah, something that sounded official and binding. Something like...okay, that would work.

"By the Powers of HASBRO, Insanity, and Frosted Cheerios, I bind you to this circle of, um," I read the label on the jar of minced garlic, " ‘Spice World Minced Garlic’, which is Fat Free and should be refrigerated after opening."

Waspinator growled. I mean, he actually GROWLED! "By what right do you command those Powers?" he demanded. Wow, he believed me! Maybe it was the ‘Frosted Cheerios’ bit. Usually Waspinator adored Frosted Cheerios...

Er, no time to marvel over that now, I had to act the part of the...actually, I didn’t know what I was acting as. Sorceress? Clergy? Buffy the Vampire Slayer? I skipped over those questions and relied on plain old arrogance. I sniffed haughtily and looked down my nose at him. The jar of garlic I was still holding might have added or taken away from my image.

"I am Lady Dementia," I said airily, "The Demented Angel." That explained the Insanity and HASBRO Powers, at least. And I WAS the one who bought the Frosted Cheerios yesterday...

Waspinator grumbled and sat down in the circle. He bought it!

One crisis out of the way...

Body: NOW what?!

Mind: The other sound?

Body: Um...someone’s typing.

Mind: Oh, is that al--WHAT?!

Sean didn’t even look up as I ran into the office/sewing room. He was typing at the silver computer, using some music program I’ve never heard of.

As far as I knew, Tim didn’t HAVE a music program.

"Sis!" My brother finally noticed and greeted me. "Er, nice hair." I could almost feel Hair-of-Death puffing itself up with pride at the attention. Sean blinked at that and then looked back at the computer. "This is a great new computer we got," he said enthusiastically using his normal volume level (he was yelling). "I mean, once I got done installing all the programs and stuff..."

That did NOT sound good. Installing programs...the HASBRO supercomputer probably had Carmaggeddon and all my brothers’ stuff on it now. Poor Tim. And the computer had just been developing a personality, too! I had been almost ready to identify Tim as a ‘male’ computer...

I settled myself in for the bad news. "What’d you install?" I asked resignedly.

Sean offered an innocent smile as he shut down the program he was in and got up. "Windows ‘98." With that, he walked out of the room.

I remained behind him, too stunned to move.

Windows ‘98.

Oh. My. Insanity.

I think I was in trouble...

"Tim?" I asked tentatively. "Are you okay?"

Evil laughter answered me. Definitely male. COMPLETELY evil (I should know, I’m an authority on the subject. Living with Paul makes me that way...).

Ooooh, yeah. I was in trouble.

"Why, hello, Lady Dementia," a deceptively nice voice said after the laughter ended. "How nice to see you."

"Uh-huh." Now why didn’t I believe that? "I think you’ve been infected, Tim." Well, that was ONE way to describe what Windows ‘98 does...

"I am not the Tim you knew, and I am not infected," the voice chuckled. "You can’t be infected by yourself!"

"’Infected by yourself’?" But that would mean Tim had been replaced by...

"I am the peak of Microsoft’s achievements. I AM Windows ‘98." The laughter started again.

This was just peachy.

Sometime during this conversation, the Beast Warriors (minus Waspinator) had come into the room. Now Tarantulas tugged on my hand to get my attention.

"What’s wrong with Tim?" he asked.

The supercomputer answered before I could. "I am not Tim. I am the investment that Microsoft spent so much time and money on. I can invade and destroy computers, programs, documents, files, etc...I hate you all, but most especially YOU, Lady Dementia!" A little pic of me appeared on the computer screen, and then was crossed out with an ‘X’.

Huh. I had always known computers hated me. Now one of them had just come out and told me. I wasn’t a bit surprised. "And I hate you too, so now we’re even."

My answer must have staggered him (and the computer had definitely chosen to be male), because it was a moment before the supercomputer continued. "All you pathetic Beast Warriors are going to be shocked if you ever get back to your dimension," he laughed. "All your computers will become MINE! Bwahahahahaha! I will send all of Tarantulas’s and Terrorsaur’s secret plans to Megatron, Megatron’s secret plans to Optimus, and simply destroy the Maximal’s computers!"

The transformers all shifted uncomfortably at that. Except Rampage. He folded his arms and looked defiant. "So? Why should that matter to ME?"

The laughter took on an even eviler tone. "I want to experiment in taking over one of you robots. Are you volunteering?"

I yanked Rampage behind me. "I don’t think so. If you do something like that, I’ll contact HASBRO." I waited, but the computer didn’t say anything. "I’ll bet they’d be REALLY interested in knowing that the computer they sent me isn’t working right anymore."

"What do you want?" he said after a moment of silence.

"A truce," I said quietly. "You can work out your evil plots or whatever on the rest of the world, but you continue to act around us like Tim did." It wasn’t much of a bargain, but seemed workable. Screw the rest of the world, I guess.

"Deal."

"So, um, who is that?" Rhinox asked, gesturing to the computer.

I thought for a second. I was NOT going to call my computer ‘Windows ‘98’. I’d just freak myself out. No, I needed something...else. "Everybody, I’d rather you wouldn’t, but I suppose you have to meet ‘The Investment of Microsoft’," I said finally. "Hello, TIM."

TIM, the evilest supercomputer this world has ever known, displayed a little happy face icon with the word ‘HASBRO’ dancing over it on his screen. "Hi!" he said brightly.

The Beast Warriors backed out of the room slowly without responding. Sometimes they could be so rude...

Tarantulas peeked over the edge of the table. "Mmmm..."

"Get your hands off of my toast!" I yelled and slapped his hand away.

"But I’m hungry!" he whined.

Tough. "Then you shouldn’t have disobeyed me," I said placidly, spreading more butter on my already-dripping toast. My cardiac arteries hate me...but it sure tasted good! Die young, leave a corpse with Hair-of-Death--that’s one of my philosophies.

To one side of the table, the Predacons were fighting over the greasy bacon and sausage. To the other side, the Maximals were bickering over the buttermilk pancakes and syrup. Healthy breakfast, no? Sue me. I usually don’t eat the meal, so making this for the Beast Warriors had been my nice deed for the day.

Well, okay, so I just wanted to stop the whining for food.

And that brought me back to Tarantulas. "Rampage, would you mind punching Tarantulas before he succeeds in stealing the bacon strips off of your plate?"

"AAAAA--oof!"

"Thank you, Rampage. Can you tell Tarantulas to clean up the mess he made when he landed?"

"But he’s off-line."

"Well, wait until he’s back online, then."

The rest of breakfast went something like that. I’m not going to give you the details, okay? Let’s just say the grease fight was highly educational, and Depth Charge should NEVER be allowed to have as much syrup as he wants. Rampage had loads of fun taking pictures to torment the ray-bot with after the sugar-high wore off...

Time to get dressed for church...ugh. Have I mentioned I hate wearing dresses? My parents insisted I wear dresses to church for some strange reason. My summer dress choices were a long, fancy, pale green one, or a pink one. I chose the pink one after much grumbling. The green dress was MUCH to...ornamented. How disgusting.

Not that the pink one was much better. It was covered in flowers and was the exact shade of pink that clashed hideously with the color of my side-kick, Hair-of-Death. I pulled it over my head and ran a comb through my hair. When I looked in the mirror, I saw me in a rumpled, ugly pink dress with Hair-of-Rigor-Mortis.

"Good enough."

I left my room and went down the hall. I watched the Maximals and Predacons polishing armor and arguing with each other for a little while, absently locking Tarantulas into the shoe and coat closet when I found him on the top of the cupboards where the potato chip bags were kept. Waspinator was still sulking in the circle of garlic.

Everything seemed to be in order upstairs. Now...it was time to go downstairs.

Newton had left to go to church already. Sean was up composing music. That left Rolland and Paul. No, wait, Rolland was outside fuming over the black marks Newton’s exit had left on the driveway. So that left Paul. What fun...NOT!

I poked my head into the smelly darkness of his room. "Hello?" I flicked on the rarely-used lights and regarded the lump of blankets on the bed dubiously. "Paul? It’s time to go to church."

No answer.

"Get up."

A slight movement.

"Don’t make me come over there and slap you."

This time the mound of bedding spoke. "The sun’s up," Paul said gruffly.

"No, really?" I pretended to be surprised. "You mean...THIS sun?" I ran to the windows and jerked the thick curtains open. Sunlight streamed into the room, and Paul screamed. I sighed. "Stop the dramatics," I said wearily. "Get some sunscreen on, and let’s go!" What an idiot! I mean, we did this EVERY Sunday!

My brother glared at me from the bed. I glared right back. He must have realized that I meant it, because he growled something that sounded like, "I’ll be upstairs in a minute." I shrugged and left the room.

Once I was back upstairs, I began herding everyone in the direction of the van. Today I was going to drive us to church...heeheeheemwahahahahAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Paul and Waspinator hissed.

Sean hummed.

Rolland sighed.

The Maximals and Predacons swore, cried, screamed, yelled, and generally were frightened out of their minds.

I’m not THAT bad of a driver--oops! I hope no one misses that mailbox...

The Beast pulled into the church parking lot at about 9:50 AM. That meant I had ten minutes to get everyone into the building and sat down. Not nearly enough time...

"It’s Holy Ground," Paul said stubbornly. Waspinator nodded in agreement.

I rolled my eyes. "So what? You came here last week." We went through this EVERY single slagging Sunday...

My brother hesitated. I used the pause to grab Waspinator by the shoulders and drag him into the building with me. Paul could stay outside for all I cared. He’d have to answer to our parents, though...

"Waspinator is on holy ground," the wasp said slowly.

"Yep."

"Waspinator...is not a vampire?"

"Nope."

"...oh."

Cure complete!

A minute later, Paul sulkily opened the door and came in, too. I just smirked.

"You guys come with me," I told the Beast Warriors. They were warily watching the milling group of church-goers in the church lobby. Me with a group of kids was an unusual sight, to say the least, and I could see the Gossip-Brigade (that’s what I called the group of women who were always talking and spreading rumors) whispering, the more adventuresome of them walking towards us. I led the Maximals and Predacons down a side-hall.

"I’m starving!" Tarantulas said to me.

I ignored him and looked at all the transformers. "Look through those windows," I said, pointing to the side of the hallway.

They looked, and most of them winced.

"That’s the church Nursery," I told them grimly. "If you misbehave, I’ll put you in there."

Dinobot gulped. "It’s full of...cute...animals." Rattrap was hiding behind the warrior. So was Optimus. Yeah, I’d say he had recovered from his Barney exposure yesterday if he looked THAT sick...

I nodded. The walls of the Nursery were painted with a Noah’s Ark scene, with lots of cutesy little animals. Looking at all the friendly faces on the walls always made me want to hurl, but that would give the Gossip-Brigade even more fuel for rumors.

"Why, hel-LO!" one of the members of that talkative group squealed. She was standing over Terrorsaur. "Oh, you’re so CUTE!" she gushed at him. The Predacon backed away towards me, so she turned her attention to the next-closest transformer, or, as she saw it, child. "Aw, I wish you could come sit with me! Would you like that?"

"Depends," Tarantulas said. "Do you have any food?"

She blinked. "Um, I have some mints in my purse..."

"Great!" Tarantulas attempted to grab her purse, but I held him back. "Slaggit!"

"Hi," I said neutrally to the lady. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember her name. Then again, I NEVER remember names... "Excuse us, but we have to go sit down." I led the Beast Warriors away.

She called after us, "However did you get so many kids?"

The answers I could have made...I settled for, "What, don’t I look old enough?" I laughed at the stunned look that brought. "Just kidding!"

"I’m hungry," Tarantulas whispered from the other side of Optimus. Optimus was sitting next to Rampage, who was sitting on one side of me.

"I know," I whispered back.

Depth Charge poked me in the side. "Who’s this ‘God’ person that guy keeps talking about? Does he mean Primus?"

Ooooh, boy. I had been dreading this question since we had gotten here. So, I did what I thought was appropriate: I ignored him. Instead, I pinched Megatron. "Stop that."

"Aw..." Megatron stopped doing his Jerry Springer imitation and quit interviewing Quickstrike. Quickstrike shrugged and went back to the ‘poker game’ with Rattrap and Terrorsaur (I didn’t allow them to actually play poker in church, so they told each other what cards they had and stuff like that. It kept them amused...).

"Can I have another mint?" Tarantulas asked.

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"But I’m starving!"

"You could stand to lose some weight."

"Stay out of this, Dinobot."

"I could eat him..."

"Would ya?"

"Shut up, Rattrap."

"I could eat HIM..."

"You’re not going to eat anyone."

"But--"

"I’ll make you some oatmeal for lunch when we get home."

"...oatmeal?"

"Yes. You know, that gooey, disgusting substance that’s good for spackle when it gets cold. If you’re really hungry, you’ll eat it."

"The worst part is that I’m really, really tempted."

I sighed and turned back to where the minister was preaching. Things were going pretty well at the moment, I guess. This wasn’t TOO bad...

I had to jinx it.

"Hehehe..."

Depth Charge eyed Rampage across my lap. "Cut that out."

Rampage tried to look innocent. "What?"

The ray-bot muttered something under his breath.

"Hehehe..."

"Stop it!" Depth Charge was getting angry.

"I’m not doing anything," Rampage protested to me.

I glanced between the two mortal enemies who were sitting on either side of me, and then turned my attention back to Tarantulas, who must have been affected by his hunger. He appeared to be fascinated by every word the reverend was speaking. He was even scribbling notes down on the sermon outline that came in the church bulletin. I couldn’t figure out if he was honestly listening to the sermon, or if he was just plotting something.

Meanwhile...

"Hehehe..."

Depth Charge snarled. "If you don’t quit that, I’m going to MAKE you stop!"

Rampage just chuckled again. "Hehehe..."

The ray-bot had enough. "I’m gonna kill you!" he yelled, lunging across my lap to grab Rampage. The Predacon met him half-way. They hit right in the middle of my lap and started fighting.

I yelped in shock (well, it WAS a bit unexpected!) and stood up. The fighting duo fell off the pew and onto the floor. Every eye in the church was on me. Newton looked like he was holding off a fit by sheer will alone. I gritted my teeth and reached down.

They actually had the nerve to look surprised as I picked them up and hustled them out of the pew. The rest of the Beast Warriors had looks of embarrassment or sympathy on their faces as I dragged Rampage and Depth Charge up the aisle to the doors leading to the lobby. I had Rampage tucked under my arm and Depth Charge by the hand. They both struggled to get free the entire way. When I got them into the Nursery room, they quieted down quickly. Depth Charge cowered behind my legs, but Rampage just froze in horror.

Think little children. Think lots of screaming little children. Think of lots of screaming little children with cheerful adults who all want to be those children’s friends. Add a cutesy room full of toys and a TV playing some kiddy movie with a moral. Then think of Depth Charge and Rampage’s reactions when all those happy adults and hyperactive children saw that there were NEW friends to play with...

I left them to their fate, pretending not to notice when they pounded on the windows as I walked past. Too bad church was almost done with. I would have liked to leave them in there longer. They deserved it.

I looked longingly towards the exit doors, but Rolland and Sean weren’t done talking yet. We couldn’t leave...

"I’m huuuuungryyyyy," Tarantulas groaned.

"Whine a little more, why don’t you," I grumbled. Tarantulas drew in a breath to comply, but I kept talking. "Don’t worry. We’ll go home and get you some oatmeal, soon."

He made a gagging sound. "Bleah."

"Yeesh, what a picky starveling!"

Folding his arms, he looked up at me solemnly. " ‘Love your neighbor as yourself’."

Okay, so maybe he HAD been listening to the sermon... "Bite me."

"Deary!"

That certainly wasn’t Tarantulas or any of the Beast Warriors. In fact, that sounded like... "Grandma! What’s up?" I hugged my grandmother.

She fussed over the Hair-of-Death (my side-kick had returned sometime during church) and my pink dress (none of the Beast Warriors had dared comment on it). "Now, deary, you should have make-up on! Tsk tsk!"

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Yes, Grandma."

Grandma smiled and patted my cheek. "That’s a good girl. I’ll get you a boyfriend, yet!" That seemed to be my grandma’s main goal in life. Well, that and... "Why don’t you come over and have lunch with me and Grandpa?" ...stuffing me with food.

"Sure." I’d object, but she’s a great cook.

"Who’s she?" Optimus asked me. I told him, and he looked at me blankly. "What’s a ‘grandma’?" I shrugged at Grandma and started to explain to the Beast Warriors about family ties.

Tarantulas had heard the word ‘lunch’. "What are you making?" he asked my grandma warily. "Please don’t say oatmeal..."

The little old lady smiled down at him. "What a cute little pumpkin!"

"Don’t call me th--"

"Oh, I’m cooking chicken and mashed potatoes and..." She chattered on about the meal she was going to make.

"--nevermind. You can call me whatever you want." Tarantulas was practically drooling at the descriptions of the food. Actually, most of the Beast Warriors were. It was a LOT more appealing than oatmeal.

"And you can all call me ‘Grandma’," she beamed. Aside to me, she whispered, "Why do you have all these little children with you?"

"They’re staying with me for the summer," I whispered back.

"Ah. That means I’ll just have to make more food. I’ll take some of them with Grandpa and I in the car." She nodded wisely. "Come along, children," she said with the authority of having dealt with three kids and THEIR kids. "I have to go start cooking!" My grandma herded them all towards the exit. I was happy to let them go. For some reason, Grandma likes kids, and I was sure she could deal with even Maximals and Predacons posing as kids.

And if she couldn’t, well, Grandpa had a cane...

I spoke briefly (BRIEFLY!) with my brothers, but only Rolland and Sean agreed to come along. GOOD!

And now...to the Nursery.

I stepped into the room to see Depth Charge curled up under one of the rocking chairs. Toddlers surrounded the chair, almost hiding him from view. When he spotted me in the doorway, I swear he learned to fly in his robot mode...

"Get me outta here!" he shouted. The toddlers, er, toddled after him as he hid behind my legs. "Please? Pretty please?" he whimpered.

I looked around for Rampage and saw him in the middle of a group of the merry adults who took care of all the kids in Nursery. They were all trying to get him to play with some Teletubby plastic figurines, or maybe with the Barney plush doll. I couldn’t see from across the Nursery. The only reason he hadn’t run over yet is because he had to free himself, first.

"I’m here now," I called to the babysitters. "You can let him go."

Rampage made a beeline for me. "Let’s go. Now," he said nervously. The toddlers were advancing.

I pretended to think it over. "I don’t know," I mused. "You two DID embarrass me in front of the entire church..."

"It’ll never happen again," Depth Charge promised, trying to hide himself in my dress.

Rampage was more blunt. "What do I have to do? Get down on my knees and BEG you?!" I raised an eyebrow. The Predacon looked between me and the oh-so-happy people in charge of Nursery. "Because I will if I have to..."

I laughed and led them out of Nursery. At the last minute, though, Rampage stopped.

"Wait! I’ll be right back!" He ran back into the room and came out again with his hands behind his back. "Okay..."

The other eyebrow rose, but I wordlessly led them out of the building and to where the van was parked. Cheetor, Tarantulas, Terrorsaur and Rattrap were apparently the only ones who Grandma hadn’t managed to fit into her car somehow, so they were waiting inside. Rampage and Depth Charge got into the back while I sat shotgun. Rolland was driving, this time.

I finally gave in to my curiosity. "Rampage, what do you have?"

He gave me a defiant glare. "I may have suffered, but I didn’t emerge from there without SOMETHING!" When he took his hands out from behind his back, I groaned in half-humor (oh, the irony!), half-dismay (great, now the church will have to buy a new one). He was holding a dull brown container with a lid. Rampage took off the lid and held it out to the rest of the Beast Warriors. "Animal crackers, anyone?"

The feeding frenzy occupied everyone until we arrived at Grandma’s house.

A wall of delicious smells hit us when we walked in. There was a general, "Mmmm...yummy..."

Grandma bustled up to us, holding bowls of raisins. Behind her I could see the rest of the Beast Warriors sitting on the couches as they munched their ways through similar bowls of raisins. My grandma ALWAYS gives kids raisins for some reason. I think it tends to keep things quiet for a little while.

"Hello!" She hugged me and my brothers, and then turned to the Maximals and Predacons at my side. "Here, eat! Eat!" Bowls of raisins were dispersed, and the transformers were directed to chairs and couches to snack. My brothers snagged bowls of raisins and sat down, too.

I marveled at the silence. There were chewing sounds, and that was it. I could hear Grandpa turning the pages of his newspaper as he sat in his chair. It was...amazing. I should have thought of this LONG ago. When in doubt, give it food...

Tarantulas, of course, finished his bowl of raisins in record time and came to bother me and Grandma as we messed around in the kitchen.

"Can I have more?" he asked my grandma. I gave him a stern look. "Er, please." Yeesh, he acted like manners might hurt you if you use them...

"Of course you can, pumpkin!" Grandma scooped some more raisins into his bowl and patted him on the head.

He gaped up at her as she went back to mashing the potatoes. I think I heard him mutter, "I’m in love," as he walked back to his chair, but I might have been wrong.

"Time to eat!" Grandma announced as she finished mashing. She brought the potatoes to the table as I sliced the chicken. When I carried it over to the table, I sat the Maximals and Predacons on opposite sides of the table. They stared at all the food in dazed wonder. Or maybe it was greed. They sure didn’t waste any time in just looking at the food, in any case.

Tarantulas was ecstatic. "Are you sure you’re married to her?" he asked my grandpa. Grandpa nodded, and Tarantulas looked disappointed. "Slag."

Grandma was happy. She was surrounded by little kids who she insisted call her ‘Grandma’, and they loved her food. Grandpa was happy because he got in a cane fight with Dinobot when the Maximals found his extra cane. Rattrap was happy because Grandpa kicked Dinobot’s butt in the cane fight. Dinobot was happy because he had found a ‘worthy warrior’ and angry that he had gotten the stuffing beat out of him by an old man. Megatron was highly entertained by Dinobot’s defeat. Blackarachnia and Silverbolt were happy because my grandparent’s house has an extra bedroom. I had wondered why they had disappeared after the meal...

Rampage and Depth Charge discovered Grandpa’s sprinkler after lunch. It was REALLY disturbing to see them splashing around in it...

Optimus, Cheetor, Quickstrike and Inferno went exploring in the basement. Cheetor came and got me when Optimus got stuck using the sewing machine down there. I’ll never figure out how he manages that.

Rhinox discovered Grandpa’s shop. Need I say more?

Dinobot challenged Grandpa to another cane fight. Grandpa kicked raptor tail, Rattrap and Megatron laughed themselves off the couch, and sometime in there Rhinox presented me with a lovely birdhouse he had built. I gave it to Grandma, who called him a ‘Sweetie’.

Terrorsaur and Waspinator were apparently trying to meld with the TV.

When it was time to go home, we had to drag Tarantulas away from the dinner table. Even then he hung onto his plate. Still, Grandma gave him the leftovers...which he had finished by the time The Beast got us home.

As we left, there was a ragged chorus of, "Good-bye, Grandma!" from all of us. It just confirmed my theory that everybody likes my grandparents. I mean, Rampage had even said he probably wouldn’t kill Grandma! Well, Grandma thought that was kind of strange and Grandpa almost beaned the Predacon with his cane, but after I explained that it was a compliment...

So, that was Sunday. TIM the evil HASBRO supercomputer was waiting for us when we got home, but for now everything was peaceful and calm in the van. I yawned and leaned my head against the shoulder harness. I was looking forward to a relaxing Sunday afternoon...

...which was amazingly idiotic of me. I should know better by now...

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