One fine day in Con HQ…

Thundercracker: Scrapper, what the hell is with the fleshie kid?

Skywarp: Where did he come from?

The camera pans to an enormous hamster cage with a wheelchair-bound kid in it.

Scrapper: Huh? Oh, him! I found him in the park.

Thundercracker: Why do you have it?

Scrapper: I wanted a pet! The Autobots have one, too!

Skywarp: Another kid in a wheelchair? Terrific! What’s its name?

Kid: My name’s Jeff!

Scrapper: No it ain’t! It’s Potato!

Skywarp: Huh? What kinda stupid-ass name is that?

Scrapper: Well, that Autobot fleshie is named Chip.

Skywarp: So?

Scrapper: Get it? Potato and Chip! GET IT? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

All: …

Thundercracker: Oh, God…

Skywarp: NO! No, we ARE NOT EVEN going to touch this, Scrapper!

Scrapper: But I wanna pet! WAAAAAAAAAA!! (throws a tantrum on the floor.)

TC: Jeez…

Scavenger: OK, OK Scrapper! He can stay.

Scrapper: YAY!

Kid: NO!

Skywarp: But Potato is a really lame name. How about Cow?

All: …

Warped: Get it? Cow? Chip? Aw, forget it?

Thundercracker: How about Poker?

Scavenger: Micro?

*BONG*

Skywarp: What the hell?

*CRASH*

Scrapper: Where the hell is that racket coming from?

Author: Sorry, fellas. I’ve been gonged.

Thundercracker: What’s that?

Author: It means that this fic is too terrible even for the likes of myself. We gotta wrap it up…

*BONG*

Author: Oh, all right!

Scrapper: Does this mean I won’t get to keep him?

THE END