Lunar Works Productions

Transformers: The Lost Adventures

Episode 4 Autobots Down Under

Starring:

“Hello humanity! This is Hector Ramirez, coming to you live from Sydney, Australia!” oozed America’s favorite news anchor, “As the athletic community settles in for the Summer Games in Seoul, the eyes of the rest of the planet are zeroed in on the world Peace Conference here in the land down under.”

Hector Ramirez stood in front of Sydney’s famous Opera House in his classic tailored brown suit and red tie. As he spoke into the robust microphone there was a slight smile on his rabidly intense face. Yeah, he could feel his audience eating this up. No more late night cable news reports on whacked out youth cults and being nearly devoured by Inhumanoids. Hector and his mustache were about to hit the big time, network T.V. style!

“The dignitaries present range from the west’s most celebrated in outgoing American president Ronald Reagan to the East’s most notorious in Carbombya’s sultan, Sadam Fakkadi and his son, Abdul. Yet, even those huge public figures are figuratively and literarily dwarfed by the presence of Optimus Prime and his heroic Autobots.”

As if on cue, a shining red and blue semi drove up on the road behind Hector right in the shot. His eyes grew wide with unencumbered glee as his cameraman frantically signaled for the reporter to turn around. He quickly spun and nearly jumped out of his Jordache’s as the Autobot leader transformed for the whole world, or at least Hector’s viewing audience to see. A number of other Autobots followed suit. It was an impressive display as over a dozen vehicles revealed their robot forms in front of the Opera House. Hector could care less about them though; he didn’t know their names anyways. All he wanted was Prime, Baby! Now that was a star he could ride to the top!

“There he is! Come on, Sal. We gotta get a quote before he goes inside,” shouted Hector, almost losing his poise enough to break out of his non-regional accent. The intrepid reporter and his trusty cameraman scurried under a large white and blue robot that looked like he was made from the number 4 Porsche racecar.  The Autobot tried not to step on the humans as they bobbed and weaved between his legs.

“Hey, where’s the fire, man?” the robots said in a raspy yet smooth reverberating voice.

“Maybe it’s an assassination attempt, Jazz, hehehe,” said a much smaller purple and yellow Autobot with smokestacks for arms, “The worst one in history!”

“Naw, Huffer,” said Jazz, “This cat’s just after an interview with Optimus Prime.”

“Primus, he’s desperate,” laughed Huffer. All of the Autobots watched the brown-clad reporter shimmy up a streetlamp post next to Optimus with his microphone jammed in his back pocket.

“Mr. Optimus Prime!” shouted Hector as he whipped the microphone from his pants and shoved it into the direction of the large warrior’s mouth plate. His other arm and leg were wrapped around. Optimus turned slowly to face the dangling human reporter, “What do you hope to accomplish in Sydney? How much money do the Autobots owe in damages and energy resources? Do you have a girlfriend? A boyfriend? Do you believe in God?” Hector rattled off at the pace of a submachine gun.

“That’s not necessary,” Prime responded in deliberate yet powerful voice. Despite the ridiculous reporter’s half-baked attempt to meet the Autobot eye-to-optic, Prime still towered over him, “I can still hear you when you’re on the ground.”

Hector sighed and cupped the microphone’s receiver in his other hand, barely able to keep himself on the pole, “Hey man, this is great TV,” he whispered, “My audience goes nuts for this kind of stuff.”

“I see,” said Prime, “I suppose I’ll answer your first question then.”

“What you hope to accomplish?” Hector said removing his hand from the microphone. The quick movement caused him to slip on his perch and he began to slide down the pole. Optimus quickly grabbed him by the collar and held him in mid-air before him, legs churning like he was running a 100-yard dash in Seoul.

“Well, I’d like us Autobots to lend mankind a helping hand,” said Optimus, as he looked the reporter in the eye. The other Autobots laughed.

“You tell him, Optimus!” cheered a small yellow robot from the collection standing nearby.

“Are you getting this, Sal?” Hector said with giddiness dripping from his voice. Sal responded with a thumbs up.

Optimus Prime gently lowered the reporter to the ground, “But for now, I think my words are best saved for the assembly inside.”

Hector covered the microphone again, “Don’t worry I’ll make up the rest,” and laughed. He felt a heavy tap on his shoulder. Turning around again he saw a large white and black transformer with police insignia on his door wings standing over him.

“You better not slander, Optimus Prime, Mr. Ramirez,” said the Autobot, “I’ve seen your reports before.”

“Never, Copbot, sir,” said Hector, gulping. The robot towered over him casting an imposing shadow.”

“It’s Prowl, Mr. Ramirez.”

“Okay, Prowler,” said Hector turning towards the cameraman once more. Prowl could be seen frowning in the shot for the folks at home, “You heard it here first, folks! The Autobots are here to help out and censor what we have to say.”

“Primus!” grumbled Prowl to himself. He turned and stomped off after the other Autobots who were heading towards the special entrance the Australian civil engineers built into the Opera House.

…………………………………………………..

“This building sure is beautiful,” said Hound looking up at the sleek multi-leveled roof of the spectacular Sydney Opera House. Despite the large group of Autobots surrounding him, he seemed to be talking to himself, “What a great place for a World Peace Conference. The humans are capable of so many wonderful things.”

“Eh, reminds me of a watered down, Iacon back home on Cybertron,” snapped Huffer, “I’m not that impressed with humans.”

“How can you say that knowing Spike and his father?” asked Hound with a frown.

“Show a little respect, Huffer,” barked Ironhide, “These humans have let us live on their planet for years with no guff.”

“That’s because we keep saving them from the Decepticons!” said Huffer.

“Remind me again why we brought a whiny little jerk like you along with us on a diplomatic mission?” said a greatly displeased Wheeljack.

“I don’t know either Wheel-Junk,” laughed Huffer, “I’d rather be back on the Ark talking earlier Cybertronian philosophy with Sludge than at this stuffed shirt fest. We’re going to get the shaft, I’m sure of it.”

“Because, Huffer needs to learn some humility, Wheeljack,” Optimus’ commanding voice flowed over the others like a wave, “Each of us will benefit from spending time with the Earth Governments.”

“But, I hate humility,” moaned Huffer, “It’s not in my programming.”

“It’s not a big fan of you either, Huff,” laughed Jazz.

“I’m glad I came,” said Hound, looking around with his hands on his hips, “I can’t wait for these talks to be done with so I can explore the badlands.”

“That sounds like a great idea, Hound!” cheered Bumblebee, “Can I come along?”

“Sure, little buddy,” said Hound, “The more the merrier.”

“We still have work to do Autobots,” said Optimus, “The conference may last many months.”

“Yippee!” groaned Huffer.

“Let’s get started,” said Optimus.

The Autobots walked into the Opera House prepared to face their most nefarious opponent ever….Politics.