DERP DERP

[weaponsparked]

[And once again, we find ourselves in the nondescript Autobot quarters. It's evening, and it's cold. The temperature has, unfortunately, not dissuaded a certain leggy 'Bot from investigating what appears to be a spontaneously appearing balcony. He has a blanket draped around him, and is staring up at a spray of ... shooting stars. Beautiful! Fabulous!]

... I wonder how many of those are actual meteors, and how many are just space trash.

[Moment ruined.]