Steam still clung faintly to his plating as Starscream strutted down the Nemesis corridor, a towel wrapped precariously around his narrow waist. He held his chin high—nothing could ruin his luxurious post-bath glow. He just needed his polishing razor.

Then, a shadow darted in the corner. “Wha—YOU!” Starscream shrieked, pointing an accusatory claw as Bumblebee poked his helm around a bulkhead, clearly snooping. “Get the frag OUT of here!”

Starscream nearly dropped his towel in outrage. “Do not sass me while I’m improperly armed! If I weren’t wearing this towel, I would tear you limb from limb!” He flapped his wings furiously, the towel slipping dangerously low. “This is an indecent breach of the truce, and I demand you leave before I SCREAM louder than my name!”