The wrecker Foreman grunts as he staggers out if his room, offended at the light.
Why can't it be dark?
You're the one who picked your shift hours
Roadbuster squinted at the..... giant. "....I blame the medics."
Amber optics squinted slightly from where the mech was well...loafed.
"I somehow doubt they were the motivation for your current hours.
"I highly doubt that was the motivation for your current hours. You weren't exactly should I say... /Quiet/ last night"
Roadbuster's squint intensified before he walked over to flop against the gaint. Take that, you big heater. "mph."
There was a chuff of a laugh at the retaliation.
"Rendered speechless? The loudest among us? Have to give your mate props for apparently blowing out your voice box."
"frag off old mech." Roadbuster growled, but at the same time he was streaching out on a warm armor spot. He wasn't awake yet, give a minute for his sass to come back.
"I might later, sounds like a good pass time if your state of beings to go by." There was a new caution sticker not far from the Mechas flopped spot.
Did they really put a slippery when wet?
