[Overweight...SPACE...CHICKEN? He will shove his free hand over your ugly face so that his royal and glorious optics no longer need to behold its repugnance.]
Cease molesting me this instant, you un-space-capable twig!
[Starscream makes a garbled noise of surprise, his body wriggling to try and wrench his face out of the other Starscream's grasp. The leg that he was using to try and free himself now just kicks viciously at his assailant.]
Molestation is beneath one of my station! How dare you imply I would waste my time on a malformed reject such as yourself!
[Oh, the universe hates you? AS IT SHOULD. But your repulsive fail has sucked the RIGHTFUL (and sexy) Starscream into your wake.]
[Also, you are stuck to him.]
How is this my fault, you cachectic flying ignoramus?! You struck first, starting a fight that [He tilts his chin] you are obviously incompetent to finish.
[That Lord Starscream the Sexy is also unable to disengage is entirely irrelevant. ENTIRELY.]
Or I could simply remove your offending limbs. [Like, all of them. Have a missile launcher in the face.]
In your way? You don't even know where you were going, you anorexic glitch!
[Half slagged shrapnel? Ha! You wouldn't know half-slagged shrapnel if Starsexyscream shoved it up your exhaust. Which might not be a bad idea. A look of intense contemplation.]
[Then he takes a step back, and one-legged Stickscream has no choice but to move with him.]
[He shoves at the stuck leg, and it pops free. He spends a moment rubbing at the wound.] You have damaged my finish, you disgusting moron!
I knew exactly where I was going! And by 'anorexic', I believe you meant aerodynamic, beak face!
[Starcream hops awkwardly after him, stumbling backwards once his leg is free. That still leaves the little matter of his hand being lodged.]
What finish? I wasn't aware rubbing rust all over yourself constituted as a paint job!
[If only he could use his hand gun to splatter this idiot's insides all over the pavement. Wait... perhaps transforming his hand would help it get free? ]
Stand still for a second. [He gives the command and his fingers fold away with a mighty screech, flipping into a triangular laser gun. This he pulls free and switches back into a proper hand.]
There. Though I should have shot you while it still shoved inside your chest. [He flexes his fingers, all with long scratches pulled along the metal...
Oh so you meant to walk into my engines? [Pervert.]
Aerodynamic? You couldn't fly in a slipstream with a towline!
[He sneers, shoving at the other, uglier jet even as otherScream detaches himself. ] Do not dare to give me orders.
[He catches sight of the horrified look on Uglyscream's face, and looks down, to see a talon still lodged in his armor. He picks it out with a fastidious gesture, holds it out away from him and drops it with a disgusted sneer. It clinks to the pavement.]
If I were missing a processor, I would not have just come from conquering Cybertron, would I have?
[Just a wee bit of a stretching of truth. Okay, so, he kind of blew it. But he did have that one glorious moment, delivering a speech so magnificent that it was surely to go down in history.]
[...however much history Cybertron had left.]
[He balls his hands into spiky fists, yelling at the retreating back.]
[Starscream--the sexy one--tugs at the stuck hands, but his own hand barbs get tangled.]
RELEASE ME THIS INSTANT!
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[And now they're even more stuck] ....You are not helping. [Glare]
[Starscream lifts one leg and shoves an intricate heel against the other's abdomen, using it as leverage to try and yank himself out.]
I can't believe I'm being subjected to... [grunt] ...such a ridiculous... [pull] overweight... [shove] space chicken!
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[He jerks his hand until metal wrenches.]
Why would I ever help you?!
[Overweight...SPACE...CHICKEN? He will shove his free hand over your ugly face so that his royal and glorious optics no longer need to behold its repugnance.]
Cease molesting me this instant, you un-space-capable twig!
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Molestation is beneath one of my station! How dare you imply I would waste my time on a malformed reject such as yourself!
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[Because there weren't enough italics in the first insult.]
[OOof. The kick lands in Starscream--the sexy one's--midsection, where it may get stuck against his canopy.]
Are you trying to attach yourself to me? [Do not make him ping that stupid crest on your forehead, Fauxscream.]
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[Seriously? His foot is caught now too? Why does the universe hate him?]
Absolutely not! This is your fault, not mine!
[Starscream sags, tired of failing at detaching himself.]
....Tell someone to fetch an energon saw.
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[Oh, the universe hates you? AS IT SHOULD. But your repulsive fail has sucked the RIGHTFUL (and sexy) Starscream into your wake.]
[Also, you are stuck to him.]
How is this my fault, you cachectic flying ignoramus?! You struck first, starting a fight that [He tilts his chin] you are obviously incompetent to finish.
[That Lord Starscream the Sexy is also unable to disengage is entirely irrelevant. ENTIRELY.]
Or I could simply remove your offending limbs. [Like, all of them. Have a missile launcher in the face.]
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[He's in pouting mode now because he's running out of steam and would really really just like to have his limbs back.]
Oh, you want me to finish this, do you? [His optics narrow to tiny red slits.]
Try it and you'll find a missile lodged in your engine.
[He also has a missile launcher, fancy that.]
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[Half slagged shrapnel? Ha! You wouldn't know half-slagged shrapnel if Starsexyscream shoved it up your exhaust. Which might not be a bad idea. A look of intense contemplation.]
[Then he takes a step back, and one-legged Stickscream has no choice but to move with him.]
[He shoves at the stuck leg, and it pops free. He spends a moment rubbing at the wound.] You have damaged my finish, you disgusting moron!
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[Starcream hops awkwardly after him, stumbling backwards once his leg is free. That still leaves the little matter of his hand being lodged.]
What finish? I wasn't aware rubbing rust all over yourself constituted as a paint job!
[If only he could use his hand gun to splatter this idiot's insides all over the pavement. Wait... perhaps transforming his hand would help it get free? ]
Stand still for a second. [He gives the command and his fingers fold away with a mighty screech, flipping into a triangular laser gun. This he pulls free and switches back into a proper hand.]
There. Though I should have shot you while it still shoved inside your chest. [He flexes his fingers, all with long scratches pulled along the metal...
...and realizes one is missing.]
.....
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Aerodynamic? You couldn't fly in a slipstream with a towline!
[He sneers, shoving at the other, uglier jet even as otherScream detaches himself. ] Do not dare to give me orders.
[He catches sight of the horrified look on Uglyscream's face, and looks down, to see a talon still lodged in his armor. He picks it out with a fastidious gesture, holds it out away from him and drops it with a disgusted sneer. It clinks to the pavement.]
Inferior construction.
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He bends down slowly and collects his digit.]
At least I'm only missing a finger- as opposed to an entire processor, like yourself.
[He turns away with a loud 'HARUMPH' and a dramatic stomp of those delicate heels.]
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[Just a wee bit of a stretching of truth. Okay, so, he kind of blew it. But he did have that one glorious moment, delivering a speech so magnificent that it was surely to go down in history.]
[...however much history Cybertron had left.]
[He balls his hands into spiky fists, yelling at the retreating back.]
And you're paying for these repairs!
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