Camp story. Couldn't resist. Includes characters from everything. I mean everything. Mainly just Starscream and the cons. Plus my OC whose name I've been debating about for the last half hour. But I've finally decided. We GOOD. But you don't get to meet her yet. Why should you be special? Be a good little idiot and just wait for it.

Also, I'm moody. Get used to that too.

And now, a special notice from Starscream.

SS: Do I have to? It looks boring.

Me: Shut up and dis-claim.

SS: You irritate me.

Me: Feeling's mutual. Now shut the fuck up and do the dis-claimer.

SS: Ugh. 'Kay. Something Violent and Nasty owns nothing but her OC.

(OC): Yeah, because I am just too damn sexy and kick-ass for Hasbro.


Starscream was done here. He scraped a bit of mud off his pedes and stepped inside. He headed straight up the stairs for his room, where he yanked open a dresser drawer and began hurling random bits of armor into a duffle. He had to get out of here, even if it was to some pathetic camp. Maybe he could find a few pretty things there to make time go faster, but he doubted it. Camps never had anything good to offer. But anything was better than home. With 'make-it-or-I'll-break-it-with-your-face' Dad, 'encourage-them-to-the-point-of-murder-and-they'll-succeed' Mom, and 'I'm-so-high-on-some-nameless-shit-no-one's-ever-heard-of-I'm-practically-flying' Bro, they're wasn't much choice. So, crappy summer camp it was. It wasn't much to look forward too. Just a fun and games camp. Not any math, or studies. A bit of survival tests for the older 'campers', but he didn't see how learning to set a fire or put up a tent could take four months.

One piece of his shoulder armor clanged missed the bag and against his dresser, and he gave a quiet curse as he reached for it. Grabbing it, he stuffed it violently into his bag, shoved in the rest of his armor, crammed a toothbrush, comb, hand mirror (naturally), and some armor polish. Because you never know, Starscream thought, there might be someone there worth impressing. He very much doubted it, but it was possible.

A resounding HOOOOOOOOOOOONK from outside made him jump. He peered out the window cautiously, and saw the camp bus. He ducked down, moaning. He actually considered taking out the armor polish. Because, he thought glumly, who would there be to impress at a place called "Happy Cabins Survival"?! His hand was just reaching into the bag, when his sire's voice blasted from downstairs. "STARSCREAM! MOVE IT, THE BUS IS HERE!"

"I FRAGGING NOTICED!" Starscream yelled back, shoving the polish back, snatching up some last few do-dads, swinging the straps of his backpack over his shoulders, and dashing madly for the stairs.

He catapulted down off the fifth step and slammed through the door. Mom and Dad both managed to hug him without slowing him down as he raced for the bus. How did they move that quickly?!

And then, after them, there was Gearswitch. His girlfriend. His companion for almost three months. She stood shyly, one foot scratching the dirt behind her. She smiled at him beautifully from under her mask. As he got closer, she stepped forward. "Um, Starscream?" she said.

Starscream stared at her. "What?"

"Uh, well," she stuttered nervously, "I just wanted to say, um, don't forget me, ok?"

"I'm dumping you," Starscream said flatly.

Gearswitch froze. Her lip actually quivered. It was almost comical. "You...what?"

"You are pathetic." He brushed past her without another word. He could hear her stuttering out random syllables, and heard a slight catch in her voice. He didn't turn around. The bus doors slid open, and Starscream climbed aboard. The first seat was open, and he tossed his bag onto the seat and hurled himself down on it. (The luggage rack over head looked like if anything over 20 pounds was put on it, it would snap in half mid-journey and send everything down on his head.) Besides, it made a good pillow. He reached casually into his pocket and pulled out his M-Jak. Slipping in his earbuds, he jacked up the volume to processor-damaging levels, and settled back. The bus doors closed, and the engine gunned. He smiled. Here we go.


Yeah. I'm absolutely sick of wimpy, injured, sad, moaning Starscream who is constantly getting beaten up or raped. Nope. In my stories, Starscream is either dying, or a user, or raping someone.

USER STARSCREAM. GET USED TO IT.

Review now, and I won't have to hunt you down.