COME ONE DUDE, JUST ONE! STOP WORRYING ABOUT WHAT HE'LL THINK!
“Who am I kidding…?” Swindle grumbled, getting up from his seat. His usually purple lights occasionally sputtered red, lighting up the dark ship. “Got my cannon stolen twice along with all my other weapons. Had to take Motorslag by surprise just to take him on my own. I’m weak for a combaticon. I need the fuel.” He looked around the ship, digging through all of the storage compartments. “C’mon… Don’t tell me I’m out of reserves…” Swindle grumbled, taking a step back and straightening up. He put a servo on his hip and sighed. “Fine. Straight from the engine, then. I’m not planning on taking off anywhere, anyway.”
Swindle exited the ship, a canister in servo and his lights now completely red. He went around to the side of the ship and opened the fuel hatch, holding the canister up to the open port as flier fuel began to pour out of it. “There we go...” Eventually, the canister was filled to the brim and the ship was emptied. "What a dream! I'm getting full just by looking at it!" he let out a groan as he carried the heavy canister into the ship, letting it clash to the floor the minute he was inside.
Swindle quickly grabbed an empty glass and poured the fuel into it. “Not able to go to a bar, so I’ll just bring the bar to me! Not a bad idea if I do say so myself! And I do!” he looked around, but there was no one to laugh with him. “Heheh… Heh… Mmghh…” The smile left his face as he cranked his helm back and took a swig. It’d been so long since he last had flier fuel, the sudden reintroduction sent a jolt through his systems, causing his body to lock up. The glass, emptied, fell out of his servo, clattering into his lap. Swindle winced, but when his joints eventually loosened up, he let out a deeply relaxed sigh. “Frag it’s been too long…” He reached out a servo towards the canister, intent on drinking the milk straight from the carton, so to speak.
