Transformers Dark of the Moon by Peter David Read Free Book Online Page B

was more vocal about it.
    “It’s inhumane, is what it is!” Wheelie complained. “Make us live in a box, on the balcony, right next to the beast, like a common animal!” He slapped at Buster, who responded with an annoyed bark.
    Sam was not brimming with sympathy at that moment. “Okay, you and your creepy sidekick cannot be in here without permission.”
    Buster, apparently having no patience for conversation, bounded into the room. Wheelie grabbed on to his fur and rolled in behind him, as if he were water-skiing. He rode him a few feet and then released his hold, allowing momentum to glide him over to the television. He turned it on and immediately let out an aggravated squawk. “Who messed with the TiVo?
South Park
sucks! What’s this Kar-duh-SHEE-uhn crap?” he said, mangling the name “Kardashian.” Then with more interest he said,
“Star Trek,”
but he quickly followed it with a disappointed “I’ve seen that one.” Struck by a thought, he wheeled around to face Sam. “Here’s an episode I’d love to see. The
Enterprise
is cruising along, and suddenly it comes face-to-face with a Prime. And the
Enterprise
starts changing around, and the nacelles become cannons, and it says, ‘So you’ve found me! At last … we finish this!’ ’Cause it’s a Decepticon, get it?”
    “Yeah, I get it. Look—”
    “And the two of ’em start whomping on each other—”
    “Will you listen to me!” Sam shouted, managing to get Wheelie’s attention. “I’m serious! I don’t need this relationship going the way of …” He stopped and then rephrased it. “You know how long it took me to get over Mikaela!”
    Wheelie seemed put out at the mere mention of her. “The warrior goddess dumped you, she dumped us. Now we’re the only family you’ve got.”
    Sam crouched down and pointed an angry finger at Wheelie. “No. We are
not
family.
You
are a political refugee. I am your …”
    “Refuge-or?”
    “Whatever. The point is, I’ve finally found someone who appreciates me for me. And I’m not going to let you screw that up.”
    “ ’Cause you figure you can screw it up yourself?”
    For an answer, Sam brought his fist down on top of Wheelie’s head and thumped it as hard as he could without damaging his hand.
    Wheelie didn’t even seem to feel it. “Travesty’s what it is. They don’t even offer us a position?”
    In spite of himself, Sam said, “Yeah. I was saying the same thing.”
    “I tell you, we know how you feel. Wasted talent. Even Brains can see that.”
    Sam glanced over at Brains. The little robot had a box of screws he’d pulled out from under the sink and was busy chewing on them and spitting out the heads.
    Great. I have no job, my girlfriend probably thinks I’m a loser, my parents are going to give me no end of grief, and the only ones around who see things the way I do are a couple of metal midgets with a fetish for hardware and my girlfriend’s panties. Maybe
I’m
the one around here with a screw loose
.
    He walked over to Brains and grabbed the box awayfrom him. Brains gave a protesting bleep. “Okay, stop with the screws,” he said, then stepped back to address both of them. “Look, you guys like it here? Just treat Carly with respect.”
    Wheelie spun back and forth, which was his mocking version of a salute. Brains, who was preoccupied with watching MSNBC, spun his head around and muttered, “Buy, sell, buy, buy, sell, hold. Short.”
    Exasperated, Sam headed for the shower and hoped that Brains wouldn’t start flushing the toilet the way he had the last time.

ii
    Sam, wearing the one and only suit he owned, strode out into the street while making what seemed the umpteenth adjustment to his necktie. He took a mental inventory of how the day had gone so far, couldn’t find a single positive, and wondered,
How could things possibly get worse?
    From nowehere a horn started blasting from down the street that was so loud, it sounded like a lighthouse, complete with