"Drinking in moderation is acceptable, but drinking until you pass out is not." Ratchet's arms were folded and he was purposefully speaking louder than usual as he glared down at Prime. "You are to set an example for the Autobots, Optimus."
Optmus did not want to be awake right now.
In fact, death would be preferable.
He groaned and tried to tuck up, draping an arm over his helm. Why was everything so bright?
“Did Motormaster t-bone me? am I dying?” he asked “The Matrix is laughing at me. Arise, Ratchetimus, the well is calling me” he whined into his arm












