[VOICE]
Figured I'd get this outta th' way finally.
Now I'm jus' gonna get this out here. I ain't announcin' this for a pity party. "OH POOR SOUNDWAVE" or "HAHA BAD STUFF HAPPENED TO YOU THAT'S HILARIOUS" -- nononono. Th' point is so I don't gotta keep explainin' myself. I hate repeatin' myself about this smeltin' thing.
Plus, I... I dunno, I think it's time to talk about it. Time to get comfortable with it, 'cuz the problem ain't gonna go away by moping.
So yeah.
Sometime ago, back in my part of th' universe, while the 'Cons an' 'Bots were still on Cybertron... a bit before I joined th' 'Cons, actually. There was my bro an' me. His name's Shockwave. Totally awesome dude. We were findin' kids when the war broke out; kids with no homes or families t'go back to. So, more or less, we adopted them, yeah?
War came to us, even though we didn't want it. Tough luck. We got the kids to safety, but Shockwave and I got nabbed by the Autobots. Th' Ratchet of my world? One big nutcase. Took off my bro's arm, replaced it with a blaster. Thought it'd look cool. Took off my face. Shockwave an' I got free. He put speakers in where my face used t'be, an' put a battlemask over what was left. We carried on, blew up th' buildin', an' joined the Decepticons.
So some of you might'a known I had no face. Big deal; kinda more or less settled with it. I didn't get repairs 'cuz we were hard for parts. Resources were pretty slim choosin' back on Cybertron, an' we had a million better things t'do on Earth than put my face back on. Whatever, right?
Here we are. A virus breaks loose, an' makes a good chunk of you act differently. I'm square with it; sure, it's a total screw in the processor. I finally get used t'Autobots bein' my buds an' most of the 'Cons kinda bein' jerks, but whatever, I roll with it. Naw, th' real bogus part is when a dude I put faith into got infected. Wasn't right in his mind. Decided to give me a face again. I asked 'im not to. He did it anyway.
I ain't gonna say who. None'a yer business. I don't want him to get pegged with questions 'r guilt or whatever. He ain't a bad dude. I dunno how I feel about him an' me right now, but I know it ain't his fault. Point is, I got tired at that point, an' that's why I got th' way I was.
End of story. Real excitin', I know.
So what's new with you dudes?
Now I'm jus' gonna get this out here. I ain't announcin' this for a pity party. "OH POOR SOUNDWAVE" or "HAHA BAD STUFF HAPPENED TO YOU THAT'S HILARIOUS" -- nononono. Th' point is so I don't gotta keep explainin' myself. I hate repeatin' myself about this smeltin' thing.
Plus, I... I dunno, I think it's time to talk about it. Time to get comfortable with it, 'cuz the problem ain't gonna go away by moping.
So yeah.
Sometime ago, back in my part of th' universe, while the 'Cons an' 'Bots were still on Cybertron... a bit before I joined th' 'Cons, actually. There was my bro an' me. His name's Shockwave. Totally awesome dude. We were findin' kids when the war broke out; kids with no homes or families t'go back to. So, more or less, we adopted them, yeah?
War came to us, even though we didn't want it. Tough luck. We got the kids to safety, but Shockwave and I got nabbed by the Autobots. Th' Ratchet of my world? One big nutcase. Took off my bro's arm, replaced it with a blaster. Thought it'd look cool. Took off my face. Shockwave an' I got free. He put speakers in where my face used t'be, an' put a battlemask over what was left. We carried on, blew up th' buildin', an' joined the Decepticons.
So some of you might'a known I had no face. Big deal; kinda more or less settled with it. I didn't get repairs 'cuz we were hard for parts. Resources were pretty slim choosin' back on Cybertron, an' we had a million better things t'do on Earth than put my face back on. Whatever, right?
Here we are. A virus breaks loose, an' makes a good chunk of you act differently. I'm square with it; sure, it's a total screw in the processor. I finally get used t'Autobots bein' my buds an' most of the 'Cons kinda bein' jerks, but whatever, I roll with it. Naw, th' real bogus part is when a dude I put faith into got infected. Wasn't right in his mind. Decided to give me a face again. I asked 'im not to. He did it anyway.
I ain't gonna say who. None'a yer business. I don't want him to get pegged with questions 'r guilt or whatever. He ain't a bad dude. I dunno how I feel about him an' me right now, but I know it ain't his fault. Point is, I got tired at that point, an' that's why I got th' way I was.
End of story. Real excitin', I know.
So what's new with you dudes?