[Feed opens to Megatron at the well, standing, looking pompous as the norm.]
Hello, puny inhabitants of this disgusting cesspool. I am known as Lord Megatron. You may refer to me as your new master. If you disagree, allow me to show you the results of defiance.
[The focus of the video changes to the contents in his hand. A relatively young woman
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[The Lombax does not look happy. But a smirk spreads over his face before he finishes that insult.]
Evil robot with quests of organic domination. You're about as original as a burned Holo-vid. What's wrong? Can't come up with actually unique evil plans?
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Do I need to, rodent?
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No, no, don't let my laughter stop you, keep going. This is quite entertaining.
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Let's see which way this will go.
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[Translation: Put up or shut up, rat.]
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[Translation: Bring it on, scrapheap.]
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You know exactly where I am, mouse.
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[And he cuts the feed.]
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Hello there, scrapheap.
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[Admittedly, have much, much better technology that he was expecting.]
are small. Your very...very small.
[Megatron takes a moment to look around, expecting perhaps a squadron. Or maybe he was a distration for something else. Or perhaps one of these rotten kids on the feed was playing an elaborate joke.]
You aren't serious, are you rat?
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[Ratchet moves his hand to his belt and seemingly out of nowhere his Judicator rocket launcher appears on his shoulder. He holds the grip and trigger in one hand, the other bracing it.]
I'm going to blow your butt away.
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It will be difficult for you to do that as a melted grease stain, fool!
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[Ratchet quickly activates his hoverboots again and zoomed off, circling around Megatron. He raised the Judicator and fired, three missiles fired from it at once, one trained on him and the other two launching off at thirty degree angels from the first one.]
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