NIGHT BEFORE GRISMAS RECAP

IF YOU MISS FIRST TIME, BELOW ME, GRIMLOCK, POST ENTIRE SET OF TWEETS FROM ORIGINAL NIGHT BEFORE GRISMAS.
ALSO INCLUDE FREE BONUS DRAWING BY ME, GRIMLOCK.

TWAS NIGHT BEFORE GRIMAS,
AND ROBOT HQ,
WAS QUIET BECAUSE
SCREENS WERE ALL BLUE.

TELETRAN ONE HAD
AN INTERNAL ERROR,
SO WHEELJACK MADE CALLS,
WITH MODERATE TERROR.

“GRIMLOCK WE NEED YOU”
HIS TREMBLING VOICE SAID,
“IF DECEPTICONS ATTACK,
WE’RE PROBABLY DEAD!”

ME FINISHED ME BEER,
AND SWALLOWED SOME SAP
ME JUST SNUCK UP ON
WHILE HIM TAKING A NAP.

HIM NOT VERY TASTY,
ME PREFER HUMANS FATTER,
STILL BETTER GET DOWN THERE
SEE WHAT THE MATTER.

REBOOT THE SYSTEM
AND SEE WHY IT CRASH.
WHEELJACK ON FACEBOOK
PLAYING GAMES MADE IN FLASH.

ME GLOWERED AT WHEELJACK
IN THE MONITOR’S GLOW
“YOU RISK ALL US LIVES
WITH FARMVILLE, YOU KNOW.”

THEN WHAT TO ME OPTICAL
SENSORS APPEAR?
DECEPTICONS CHARGING!
(AND IT NOT JUST THE BEER)

LEAD BY THAT BASTARD,
IT WAS NO TRICK.
SHOCKWAVE WAS HERE,
BY PRIME, WHAT A DICK.

FASTER THAN TACOS
THROUGH BOWELS THEM CAME,
IN AN EMOTIONLESS VOICE
HIM CALL THEM BY NAME.

ON SOUNDWAVE AND RUMBLE,
RAVAGE AND OCTANE,
ON BLITZWING, THRUST,
DIRGE AND ASTROTRAIN!

“FARMVILLE LEFT HOLES,
IN YOUR FIREWALL.
YOUR PERIMETER’S BREACHED,
DES-TROY THEM ALL!”

INTO THE BASE THEM
DECEPTICONS FLY,
IT STARTING TO LOOK
LIKE US GOING TO DIE.

ALL ROUND THE BASE
THE DECEPTICONS FLEW,
WHILE ME RACK ME BRAIN
FOR THINK WHAT TO DO.

THEN ME HEAR SOMETHING
STRANGE ON THE ROOF,
IT SOUND LIKE A SLED,
POWERED BY HOOF.

AS ME RETURNED FIRE,
ME TURNED AROUND,
DOWN EXHAUST PORT THERE FALL
SOME DUDE WITH A BOUND.

HIM DRESSED LIKE COLD PIMP,
FROM HIM HEAD TO FOOT,
WHITE FUR AM ODD CHOICE
FOR GUY COVERED IN SOOT.

BIG PILES OF ENERGON
HIM HAD IN HIM SACK,
THAT PRETTY GOOD METHOD
OF HALTING ATTACK.

HIM EYES GLOW LIKE LASERS,
THEM REALLY QUITE SCARY.
HIM NOSE SHINE LIKE CORVETTE,
PAINTJOB STILL CHERRY.

HIM MOUTH JUST A SLIT
FILLED WITH OMINOUS GLOW,
REFLECTING OFF WHISKERS
CHROME WHITE LIKE THE SNOW.

HE SPAT OUT A FINGER
THAT WAS STUCK IN HIS TEETH,
WHEN HIM TAKE NEXT STEP
IT CRUNCHED UNDERNEATH.

HE’D DEVOURED OUR SENTRIES
AND NOW IN HIS BELLY,
THEY WERE REDUCED
INTO MECHANICAL JELLY.

HE’S A BAD MOTHER FUCKER,
A CYBORGED OLD ELF,
ME LEAKED JUST A LITTLE,
IN SPITE OF ME SELF.

IN BLINK OF AN EYE,
OFF WENT THE HEAD,
OF THREE OF THE CONS,
THE REST OF THEM FLED.

HIM SPOKE NOT A WORD
WHILE HIM DO HIS WORK,
DISMEMBERING SHOCKWAVE
(WHO DESERVE IT, THAT JERK).

AND LAYING A FINGER
UP TO HIM NOSE,
HIM GIVE ME A SMILE
WHILE UP EXHAUST PORT HIM ROSE.

HIM TRANSFORM INTO SLEIGH
WITH SOUND LIKE A WHISTLE,
AND SHOOT OF INTO NIGHT
LIKE MURDEROUS MISSILE.

ME HEAR SANTACRON SAY
AS HIM FLY OUT OF SIGHT,
“I’LL BE BACK FOR YOU TWO
TOMORROW NIGHT!”

HIM THE GODDAMN SANTACRON

JUST FOR RECORD, ORIGINAL DONE ON FLY, NOT PLANNED AHEAD. WHOLE THING SPUR OF MOMENT IDEA. HARDEST PART FIND TWO DECEPTICONS THAT RHYME ASIDE FROM SHOCKWAVE AND SOUNDWAVE.

FAKEGRIMLOCK

ME FAKEGRIMLOCK!