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The remains of the grand piano had started to cave the asphalt floor around them, but Kermit Prime dared not move from his spot as he crouched over the small, limp red frame of his lieutenant, scout and dear friend, Cliffjumper (played by guest star, Danny DeVito).
"Oh, Cliffjumper…" Kermit Prime croaked before turning to his forged, felted and fuzzy crew. "There must be something we can do. How will we ever recover from this?"
Jazz the Dog patted the frog's pauldron. "Now don't you worry your pretty lil helm, Kermit, we'll be pickin' up the body with the others tomorrow at 9 A.M. sharp."
A weak laugh rose above the rest before turning into a coughing fit.
"He's right, Prime, I'm not gonna make it." Cliffjumper said shakily, struggling to hold onto the tiny, slightly slimy servos. "You gotta get out of here before we find out if you can really skip the plane tickets to get to China."
"Don't say that, Cliff!" Walterbee cried. "Ratchet's on his way! He just ran into a lot of traffic as the crowd got up and ran away from us earlier..."
"Maybe to scrape me off the pavement." Cliffjumper sighed, his red horns pressing into the Prime's armor as he attempted to soothe the poor kid. "Listen Bee, I've lived a long life, seen it all, really. One would call it grand, even. Too soon?"
"Too soon." Everyone replied in unison.
Kermit Prime looked down sadly at his friend. "You were one of the best of us, Cliffjumper, if not, the most honest. Always leaping into the fray with your short, but powerful legs."
"Always getting on our last circuits." Bertstreaker grumbled.
"Always listening to our woes on long car rides, and blasting away at them too." Walterbee said.
A broken melody choked out from what keys were left on the piano, despite the rest having been scattered around the floor. Everyone turned to see Jazz the Dog as he played a ghost of a tune on the weapon of choice.
Prowl the Eagle glared at the fluffy menace. "Primus, Jazz."
"Can always count on you to lift my spirits up, huh?" A line flashed over the shaggy saboteur's visor in his form of a wink as he tapped out a few more warbled notes.
He shook his helm, suddenly morose as he looked down at the broken instrument. "As much as I like the praise, sure wish I could perform some miracle right about now."
"Not. What. I. Meant." Prowl ground out with each ping of the piano. He flapped his wings to the pair on the floor. "He is having a moment."
"Yeah, yeah, not my best work, babe, but I'm workin' with what I got here," Jazz continued, absentmindedly. "Can't decide if Nocturne #13 in C Major or Sonata No. 2 in B-Flat Minor would be a more fittin' send off…" He looked up. "What says you, Prowle—" He caught the urgent look on Prowl's faceplate and covered his big mouth with a servo. "Ahem. Prowl."
The whisper of fuzzy coworkers threatened to overwhelm the eagle. This was not how he wanted everyone to know they had been seeing each other.
"Guess it'll be whichever has less keys." Jazz said weakly, ears flopping with the gesture. He shook his helm. "'Sides, Cliff would wanna go out with a bang, anyway, as opposed to a boink!"
From seemingly nowhere, a crash of a drum and cymbal played off of whatever was available — in this case, a fallen hubcap and the armor of someone's own frame.
"Thanks, Blaster, my man. I'll be honest and say I wasn't too sure about that one."
Blaster, the Animal, nodded his helm vigorously, shaking his chained collar in the process. "Encore! Encore! Encore!"
"Ask and you shall receive…!" Miss Megatron called out, huffing as she climbed up on the piano. They never told you living metal would be so heavy, and she'd worn layers and layers of real silk over the orns.
The Prime scrunched up his green faceplate in anger. "Miss Megatron!"
"Hello, Kermy-wormy." The Decepticon leader draped herself over the busted piano, basking in the glow as several guns pointed in her direction. After all, this was her best angle… "Looks like we've got unfinished business, now don't we, my atrocious amphibian?"
Cliffjumper spit in her direction, blood oozing from his smile. "Yeah, some would say you're getting sloppy, Miss."
"Who wrote these?!" The Decepticon leader yelled into the sky before composing herself. "Fine. Looks like I'll need to finish the job myself. Starscream!"
The rat in question flew down from the rafters. "Yes, my lady?"
Tossing her helm to one side, Miss Megatron pointed at the pair. "Let's send them back to Hell where they belong."
With that, she gracefully rolled off of the piano and exited stage left. Her helm was absolutely killing her today.
Starscream the Rat, holding a now rat sized prop gun, grinned. "With pleasure."
Cliffjumper looked up at his leader with a look of determination on his faceplate. "Keep me in your spark, will you? When I'm gone?"
Kermit Prime teared his optics away from the gun. "What?!"
With a cry, the red scout tossed the smaller Prime out of the line of fire in a tiny green arc. Smiling, Cliffjumper watched the Prime flew across the battlefield. He was safe now.
He looked at the barrel of the gun and the Seeker's nasty smile without fear.
The blast of the gun shook the Autobots to their cores, ringing through everyone's audials long after it ended.
Walterbee saluted before bursting into tears as the rest of the cast burst into laughter as the Prime hit the pavement.
The sound of heeled pedes had Kermit Prime peeling himself off the pavement.
"Tut-tut, you terrible excuses of mecha." Miss Megatron said, arm cannon raised and hissing with charge. She met the Prime's optics, staring at him intently. She could end this now, finally, with the frog at her pedes as he stared up her with that pathetic, lost expression.
If his spark were to go out now, it would be fine if it was through her servos, Kermit Prime thought quietly.
After a moment, the canon lowered to the floor.
Turning away, the Decepticon leader murmured into the quiet space they shared, "Until we cross paths again on this battlefield…"
"Of love and pain…" Kermit Prime sighed as her heels clicked away.
He hopped up then and turned to his team.
"Quick, gang, while Jazz and Prowl are grabbing our lieutenant from the crater!" He whispered loudly.
Neither the second or third of command heard or saw as mecha from both factions exchanged shanx after losing this cycle's bets on which of the two monochrome mecha would let their little (not so secret) dating life slip first.
Everyone had been completely aware that the monochrome pair had been secretly dating, rather horribly at that, but it didn't mean they couldn't have fun with it.
All fun had to end somehow, though.
Kermit Prime's helm and shoulders were low as he was given the now smoking red scout. He sniffed, cradling the small frame of his friend as he took off his pair of glasses. "I'll never forget you, Cliffjumper…"
"Yeah, well, some of us wish we could forget the last five minutes of this." A raspy voice came from above them.
Everyone turned to see none other than the cranky old Seeker couple looking down at them from their perch on their box.
Thunderstatler laughed before continuing. "Look at their faces! Think they know it too, but it's too late!"
"Yeah, seems like this show's already going to hell in a handbasket, dear. Let's get out of here while we still can." Skywaldorf replied, rising into the air with his conjunx.
Blasters sizzled and pinged overhead, and the cranky duo tailspinned before careening to the floor.
It's what the scout would have wanted, the Prime supposed.