Bumblebee has a minion!

Sam Witwicky the Bumumble

My Wishlist


N.E.S.T.


/End recharge function.
...Initializing systems operation.
Power core output: 85.34%. Stabilizing....
Incoming auditory message...translating...translation complete; running.

" -ee? Hellooooooo. Bee? You up, buddy? Yoooo! ...Wait, can you even be woken up..err, un-recharged?"

Response to message...initializing...end response...reply momentarily...
Power core output: 99.7723%.
Power core output: 100%.
Threshold reached. Initializing weapons systems....running....
Complete. All weapons online. Unlocking battle protocols....
Complete.
Initializing personality matrix...
Personality matrix stabilized....running....
Primary function type: Scout: Class 12.
Primary designation of unit: Autobot.
Secondary designation of unit: Bumblebee.
Status of Unit: Online.
/End awareness of background script...Run personality matrix...


The Camaro whirred and clicked as parts that had shifted out a place during recharge readjusted themselves. Optics focused and unfocused - a function Sam had likened to 'blinking'- and finally settled on the aforementioned teenager, arms folded, feet spread, and currently craning his neck to look up at the much taller form of the robot. The boy grinned.

"So you guys can be woken up. I always wondered. You're always awake - online? Activated? - Whenever I so much as walk by, so you know, a guy's gotta wonder."

Bumblebee gave a soft, whirring sound, coupled with a minor tremble of his frame. Laughter.

"Online, is the appropriate term," the Autobot assured, "and yes, we can be manually 'woken' by an outside source."

Sam waved off the information before it escalated into one of their many 'the life and times of shiny alien robots' discussions.

"C'mon Bee, you know I don't understand giant robot speak. Hey listen, mom wants me to go buy groceries, you wanna come?"

Bumblebee gave another whirring, shuddering laugh at the question. As if the boy had any other method of transportation besides his feet and Bee himself. Not, of course, that Sam had much of choice in that respect. The Autobot had long ago deemed public transportation roughly as safe as running across the freeway; in fact, running across the freeway was slightly safer. A flurry of metallic silver and yellow parts whirled and spun into place, reforming the guise of a Chevrolet Camaro. The door swung open, inviting the teenager in.

"On the road again, Just can't wait to get on the road again.."

Sam laughed at the song clip.

"I think you've developed an unhealthy obsession with the radio." Sam stated, climbing in and settling into the leather seats. He patted a slightly battle scarred hand --(He'd almost been lost in that desert; he'd almost been lost. He couldn't be lost again. Never, never again.)-- affectionately on the dashboard.

"That's the way, uh huh uh huh, I like it!"

"Pffft, whatever Bee. C'mon lets go get some..." The teen trailed off as he eyed the list, the smudged red ink and curly loops of his mother's handwriting proving more than a little difficult to decipher. "...tofu? What the heck is mom planning to do with friggin tofu."


Profile by Myself | Overlay by Bowser | Story by Myself~ |