In continuing to bring attention to the ignored members of the Transformers universe, I found a character even more ignored than poor Miles. Glen, our cowardly hacker, had been forgotten even more. While Miles has the spotlight in my "Satan's Camaro," Glen receives no real attention. Until now. I brainstormed this in about five minutes when I was bored in the car. Very little effort was put into this piece, but at least it's about Glen. That guy could never handle stress.
This has no real connection to my "Black Crayons" story or "Satan's Camaro," but if one wanted to, they could say it is related. They are great stories, so check them out.
Glen had always been a little… unusual. He was the definition of a geek after all. He spent his days on the computer playing video games or hacking into national secrets in his grandmother's house. He didn't even live with his mother like regular losers.
Well, he now knew there were some secrets you don't want to know. Not because of the threat to national security, but because of what it did to your sanity. He used to hunger for the knowledge only a hacker of his caliber could gain from the most secret of files, now he feared it.
Every time a car pulled by his house, he twitched. Whenever he heard a plane overhead, he fought the desire to duck for cover. He was even beginning to view his beloved computer with suspicion.
Maggie, his only friend he knew by more than a screen name, said he would get over it. She should talk. If it wasn't for her and her ultra-secret files, he would still be blissfully ignorant of the truth. Granted, at the time he had been completely excited by to study the stolen file and would have tackled the girl for the flash drive if she hadn't given it up willingly. Back when he didn't know better.
He should probably get a new phone sometime, but after watching his last be used for demonstration purposes, he couldn't work up the nerve. After his last attempt to purchase one, where he kept darting his eyes between the various models in case they got any ideas, he avoided the store. He cringed as he remembered the visit.
"This model is perfect for texting and accessing the internet," the salesman bragged.
Glen interrupted, "Yeah, but hypothetically speaking, if they came to life and were evil, which one do you think would be the least dangerous."
That wasn't even close to the worst reaction. When one of his neighbors had started his lawn mower as Glen arrived home, he had screamed and ran inside. Now, the whole street was calling him "Twitchy." Even his grandmother.
They didn't know twitchy. They didn't know anything. If they had seen what he had… Even busy rewiring a computer, he saw the killer robot tossing the spinning blades of death at him and the others. The hyper thing was crazy. He was like a metal version of the creatures from "Gremlins." Now, that thing was twitchy.
And it wasn't the only one. Sure, some were good and would protect rather than attack, but how would he know which was which? They look like regular machines most of the time. He wouldn't recognize the danger until it killed him. He may not be as tempting a target as the Witwicky kid. Still, Glen planned to stay on guard for danger, like if they decided to take out everyone involved. And he qualified for that, didn't he?
A car alarm sounded outside and Glen flinched. Okay, he was twitchy. So what? It's not wrong to be scared of the dark if there are monsters there. He knew that the killer robots existed and he was smart to be afraid. It was okay to be a little… twitchy.