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Cooking with Wheeljack
The young man entered the familiar workspace that had been designed with giants in mind. “Hey Wheeljack,” he greeted its dedicated occupant.
“Spike Witwicky, hello. You have arrived at the most fortunate time. I have something to show you!” Vibrant colors flowed through the fins around the white transformer’s face.
“Yeah, I bet, but listen. I was making my lunch across the hallway and I popped out of the Ark to make a phone call-”
“I am very sorry,” Wheeljack apologized. “I forgot to program the security systems to allow your cell phone signal through our shield-”
“Yeah, yeah, no problem, I know you’re busy and you’ll get to it, but this is important. I got back and my lunch was gone. So either you guys have some very large rats here or some thief is sneaking around. Have you spotted Sideswipe lurking around here?”
“There is no reason to fret,” the autobot inventor said. “I took it.”
“You did?”
“Yes!”
“...Why?
A metal digit rose up in imitation of the human gestures the Cybertronians loved so much. “This is exactly what I wanted to show you. I have been watching this fascinating series of your pop culture called Star Trek-”
“Star Trek?” Spike asked, disbelievingly.
“Yes. Have you heard of it?”
“I might have. What about it, and what does my food have to do with it?”
“It is a fascinating show. The science is at times laughable, and of course the presumptions about intergalactic relations and culture are not grounded in reality in any shape or form, but nevertheless it appeals to me immensely. The adventure and journeys the crew undertakes, and the principles it operates under speak to my very spark!” the Transformer gushed.
Wheeljack’s only methods of portraying his emotions outwards were the glow of his eyes and fins, as well as his body language, which he tended to be very expressive with, and right now he was practically dancing under his very own light show.
“It is an old series as far as your culture goes however. I hope it didn’t meet the fate of the Firefly show you told me about,” he continued, sounding fearful.
“I think you’re pretty safe. Anyway, my lunch? I do need to eat today.”
“Oh, yes. Forgive me. A device the crew has available in the show is called a “replicator”, a wonderful device able to materialize any meal or drink on demand. I have noticed that your species hasn’t constructed anything close to it so far, so I took the liberty of-”
“Wheeljack. What. Did you do. To my sandwich?”
“Nothing as of yet,” Wheeljack said in an assuring fashion. “I am not able to achieve what your wonderful kind has imagined so far, but I can do something near-identical. I needed a sample to create a template from and-”
“Dude! I’m hungry. Did you… dissect it?”
“Of course not. I have simply entered it in my prototype. It is finishing the scanning process as we speak. Soon enough you will have not one, but two sandwiches, with the option of making more on demand with the press of a button.” Wheeljack presented with flair a machine that looked too much like a vandalized microwave.
“It was just a ham and cheese sandwich,” Spike said. “Not really the most glamorous of sandwiches if that’s what I end up eating all the time.”
“A minor problem,” Wheeljack said. “We can easily scan and install more options in the future like peanut butter and jelly- ah, the scan has finished. Remember this moment, for it marks a new page in human culinary history. We revolutionize the world of kitchen appliances with the press of this small red button-”
The machine’s back exploded all the way to the wall. Flames erupted from the sides. Metal groaned, oil burned, and plastic melted.
“Oh dear!” Wheeljack snuffed the flames with a fire extinguisher he always kept close for reasons known to everyone in hearing range of the engineering lab. “I must have made a miscalculation somewhere or forgot to tighten a screw-”
“Wheeljack. Please,” Spike said, hopelessly. “Look, I just want my sandwich.”
The Autobot opened the small door of the “replicator” with care, peering carefully inside. His fins lit up in muted colors. “How do you feel about toast instead?”
“Spike Witwicky, hello. You have arrived at the most fortunate time. I have something to show you!” Vibrant colors flowed through the fins around the white transformer’s face.
“Yeah, I bet, but listen. I was making my lunch across the hallway and I popped out of the Ark to make a phone call-”
“I am very sorry,” Wheeljack apologized. “I forgot to program the security systems to allow your cell phone signal through our shield-”
“Yeah, yeah, no problem, I know you’re busy and you’ll get to it, but this is important. I got back and my lunch was gone. So either you guys have some very large rats here or some thief is sneaking around. Have you spotted Sideswipe lurking around here?”
“There is no reason to fret,” the autobot inventor said. “I took it.”
“You did?”
“Yes!”
“...Why?
A metal digit rose up in imitation of the human gestures the Cybertronians loved so much. “This is exactly what I wanted to show you. I have been watching this fascinating series of your pop culture called Star Trek-”
“Star Trek?” Spike asked, disbelievingly.
“Yes. Have you heard of it?”
“I might have. What about it, and what does my food have to do with it?”
“It is a fascinating show. The science is at times laughable, and of course the presumptions about intergalactic relations and culture are not grounded in reality in any shape or form, but nevertheless it appeals to me immensely. The adventure and journeys the crew undertakes, and the principles it operates under speak to my very spark!” the Transformer gushed.
Wheeljack’s only methods of portraying his emotions outwards were the glow of his eyes and fins, as well as his body language, which he tended to be very expressive with, and right now he was practically dancing under his very own light show.
“It is an old series as far as your culture goes however. I hope it didn’t meet the fate of the Firefly show you told me about,” he continued, sounding fearful.
“I think you’re pretty safe. Anyway, my lunch? I do need to eat today.”
“Oh, yes. Forgive me. A device the crew has available in the show is called a “replicator”, a wonderful device able to materialize any meal or drink on demand. I have noticed that your species hasn’t constructed anything close to it so far, so I took the liberty of-”
“Wheeljack. What. Did you do. To my sandwich?”
“Nothing as of yet,” Wheeljack said in an assuring fashion. “I am not able to achieve what your wonderful kind has imagined so far, but I can do something near-identical. I needed a sample to create a template from and-”
“Dude! I’m hungry. Did you… dissect it?”
“Of course not. I have simply entered it in my prototype. It is finishing the scanning process as we speak. Soon enough you will have not one, but two sandwiches, with the option of making more on demand with the press of a button.” Wheeljack presented with flair a machine that looked too much like a vandalized microwave.
“It was just a ham and cheese sandwich,” Spike said. “Not really the most glamorous of sandwiches if that’s what I end up eating all the time.”
“A minor problem,” Wheeljack said. “We can easily scan and install more options in the future like peanut butter and jelly- ah, the scan has finished. Remember this moment, for it marks a new page in human culinary history. We revolutionize the world of kitchen appliances with the press of this small red button-”
The machine’s back exploded all the way to the wall. Flames erupted from the sides. Metal groaned, oil burned, and plastic melted.
“Oh dear!” Wheeljack snuffed the flames with a fire extinguisher he always kept close for reasons known to everyone in hearing range of the engineering lab. “I must have made a miscalculation somewhere or forgot to tighten a screw-”
“Wheeljack. Please,” Spike said, hopelessly. “Look, I just want my sandwich.”
The Autobot opened the small door of the “replicator” with care, peering carefully inside. His fins lit up in muted colors. “How do you feel about toast instead?”
So, I probably don't connect with this franchise anywhere near enough as I used to (but we're talking the 80's, here), but I either remember enough, or this fic does a good enough job of not alienating me, to get through it intact. So that's a plus. As it is, the story uses the prompt to tell a quick SoL story that I feel succeeds when you know it's part of a wider universe, but perhaps not as much when considered as a standalone piece. I don't know if I'm being unfair in saying that; perhaps I am...
Anyway, it works enough. You might want to consider revising some of the more descriptive aspects of Wheeljack, however. It's referenced about how the only way he portrays emotions is via body language and lights, but then we get phrases like "sounding fearful" and "gushed". It would have made the piece more realistic/composed by establishing certain gestures/light colours and having the protagonist interpret them. As it is, some parts became a little tell-y.
Still, that last line did make me smile, as did the Firefly reference. Not a bad effort, this. Thanks for sharing.
Anyway, it works enough. You might want to consider revising some of the more descriptive aspects of Wheeljack, however. It's referenced about how the only way he portrays emotions is via body language and lights, but then we get phrases like "sounding fearful" and "gushed". It would have made the piece more realistic/composed by establishing certain gestures/light colours and having the protagonist interpret them. As it is, some parts became a little tell-y.
Still, that last line did make me smile, as did the Firefly reference. Not a bad effort, this. Thanks for sharing.
I agree that the last line made me giggle.
It's a pity my first exposure to Transformers was the Beast Wars cartoon in the 90's, and didn't familiarise myself with the original series until Michael Bay had already tainted my impression about them.
But I digress, for what it is, the story is enjoyable. I didn't feel excluded for not knowing the source material.
It's a pity my first exposure to Transformers was the Beast Wars cartoon in the 90's, and didn't familiarise myself with the original series until Michael Bay had already tainted my impression about them.
But I digress, for what it is, the story is enjoyable. I didn't feel excluded for not knowing the source material.
Cooking with Wheeljack — B+ — First reaction: Autobots and cooking. This cannot end well.
(+) Nice work with the banter between the two characters, and pretty fair characterization. Excellent work with the end of the replicator and the result.
(-) Working from zero for most readers with “What does this Autobot look like” so you need to be more descriptive, particularly at the beginning where you need a stronger hook.
Weapons: Wheeljack’s creation. Fatalities: Sandwich(s)
(+) Nice work with the banter between the two characters, and pretty fair characterization. Excellent work with the end of the replicator and the result.
(-) Working from zero for most readers with “What does this Autobot look like” so you need to be more descriptive, particularly at the beginning where you need a stronger hook.
Weapons: Wheeljack’s creation. Fatalities: Sandwich(s)