Oh, my adoring fans! I've missed you so! Let us rejoice that I've finally updated this blasted fic. lol Nah...but anyway, I trust everyone had a great Easter Holiday and Spring Break. Most of us are refreshed and ready for the next tiresome parts of life once again! Hooray! lol Well, I won't bother you anymore. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. The only things I do own in this fic is DeathCaller (me, of course) and the plot.

Chapter 8


DeathCaller walks on stage, waving to the cardboard audience as the tap plays the fake clapping. She sits down and clears her throat a little nervously. Finally, she speaks, "Greetings, my wonderful readers. I apologize for not updating for a long while on this fic. I kinda went into writer's block for it and got new inspirations for new fics." She then holds up cheesy advertisements for her fanfics. "Anyway," she puts them away, "Our guest today is the last Autobot that I have to interview for the Armada series."

The tape begins to play clapping and cheering as the cardboard people sit in their theater seats with huge drawn grins on their faces. Soon, the clapping stops.

"All right," DeathCaller stands up, "I'm done apologizing and stuff. It's time to stop being proper and get on with the show!"

A rather large bottle of Mountain Dew is tossed at the girl, sending her falling to the stage floor. "Oomph!" The curtains close for a time.

Soon, the black curtains reopen to reveal a slouched DeathCaller in her large recliner in front of a tv and PS2. The sounds of gunshots and bomb explosions emit from the television's speakers. Suddenly, sad music plays and DeathCaller drops the controller on the floor.

"Darn it! I hate you, Tidlewave! I hope you go drown in a puddle!" DeathCaller turns off the PS2 and turns her recliner around to face Smokescreen, "So, Smokey, how's it going?"

"Pretty good," the large orange bot grins. "I see you're having a lot of trouble with Tidlewave, there."

"Shut up...The only way to beat him on Commander level is by using that one-hit-KO cheat." DeathCaller grumbles, folding her arms across her chest.

"And are you?"


There's a long silence between the two. Suddenly, the silence is broken.

"Let's start the interview!" DeathCaller sits back in her chair and randomly grabs a can of Mountain Dew from the side of her large recliner.

"All right," Smokescreen relaxes and waits for the questions to begin.

"So tell me, Smokescreen...Have you ever lived up to your name?"

"Actually yes. It was back when I was younger..."

The scenery blurs out and changes to sometime in the past where the younger forms of Smokescreen, Optimus Prime, and Hot Shot are standing.

"Guys!" Smokescreen calls for his buddies, "Guys, I have this huge pressure in my rear axle. You got the torch?"

"All right!" Hot Shot whips out a flamethrower and gets it ready.

Smokescreen bends over while Optimus watches the two younger bots, and strains, "ErrrraAAHH!""

A loud, rumbling, slightly wet noise escapes from Smokescreen's rear. Then, a huge cloud of smoke follows the sounds.

"Aawwgh!" Hot Shot and Optimus cried out in unison. They backed off, covering their optics.

"Dang, Smokescreen!" Hot Shot began to laugh, "Talk about living up to your name!"

The scenery changes once again and returns to the stage.

DeathCaller blinks and stares at the orange mech. "Right," she shifts in her recliner. "Dude, you're good!"

Smokescreen grins, "Thanks. But that's when we were younger."

"I can tell." DeathCaller sits up, "Second question! Ummm...Poop...what's the first thing that comes to your...uh...thoughts?"

"Poop?" Smokescreen thinks as he stares at DeathCaller in question. "I guess...piles of bolts and scrapped metal."

"Do Transformers poop?"

"Not...really. We kinda just let exhaust escape from our pipes."

"Like the walking farts?"

"What?" Smokescreen laughs.

"The walking farts. They're basically endless farts that continue to come out as you travel or whatever."

"I...guess. You humans are so strange."

"Oh, it's not just humans. Animals do it, too." DeathCaller grins at the mech. "Wow. Transformers fart. Awesome."

"Is it bad?"

"In some cultures, yes. Others, it means a good thing. Personally, I get picked on if I fart. So, I've learned to hold it in. But I'm sure our readers don't want to know that." She laughs, "But I bet four out of every five readers who read this fic do the same thing."

"Are you telling me you want me to hold in my exhaust?"

"Sure, why not? You might die or something, though."

"So you want me do die?"


"Why you would you tell a Transformer to hold in their exhaust?"

"Do you like explosions, Smokescreen?" DeathCaller reaches behind her recliner, grinning evilly at the construction mech and sips a bit of her Mountain Dew.


"Yes..." DeathCaller hisses to him, "Big explosions."

Smokescreen leans back in his chair and grips the arms of it, "Ummm...everyone once in a while."

"How about right now? Do you feel like seeing a big explosion right now?" DeathCaller starts to pull something out from behind her chair.


"HAA!" DeathCaller pulls out a remote and points it to a small television while pressing a button. The television shows a huge nuclear explosion with rumbling sound effects.

Smokescreen passes out in his chair, thinking he was going to explode.

"Smokey? Hey...Smo...key? Yoo-hoo..." Looks around at the cardboard box audience. "Ummm, medic?"

Red Alert comes running onto the stage, "Make way! I got it!"

DeathCaller, "Promise you won't...look...anywhere...ya know..."

Red Alert looks up from examining Smokescreen's problem, "Death..." he sighs, "I promise. Besides, Optimus said that I wouldn't be allowed to keep my career if I kept it up. So I don't do that anymore."

DeathCaller nods. She then looks to the audience, "Um...I guess that's the end of the chapter. Sorry, everyone. We kinda had a ..." She looks over to Smokescreen and Red Alert. "...mishap."

Red Alert lifts Smokescreen onto a stretcher that was conveniently placed there and rolls the orange mech off stage and out of the building, "He's going to need better treatment. Sorry, DeathCaller."

Waves to big red, "It's cool, dude! Be good and best of luck!"

Once Red Alert leaves, DeathCaller looks to her fans, "Well, that's all for now. Hope you enjoyed. Again, sorry for the shortage. And oh. I know I took WAY longer than I normally do on updating this fic, but ideas weren't coming very well for this one. Plus, I don't bring it to school with me. I now type it on the computer. So yeah, this is gonna be one of two fics that I'm writing to waste time and still bring happiness to others." She smiles and waves. "Until the next chapter! You've seen and laughed at their hidden truths on My Mountain Dew!" Chugs down her large cup of Mountain Dew and pulls out her bazooka, "Now get!" Blows up the audience.

Well, that's all for this fic! Again, sorry for the time it took, and sorry for its short length. I didn't think it was that funny, but I've been running out of ideas. Although, I DID get this awesome inspiration for the next chapter or somewhere along this fic. You'll just have to wait, though.

Please Review! Every one of your reviews count! Makes everything better. Thank you so much! Take care!