Ratchet watched as Bulkhead chuckled to himself, clearly proud of whatever prank he had just pulled on you. His curiosity piqued, the medic crossed his arms and raised an optic ridge.

“Alright, Bulkhead, what did you do?”

Bulkhead grinned and held up a bottle. “Oh, I just poured some of this into their drink—figured they could use a little boost!”

Ratchet took the bottle from him, his optics scanning the label. His entire frame went rigid.

“Bulkhead… this isn’t caffeine,” he growled, his voice dangerously low. “This is Adderall.”

Bulkhead blinked, confused. “Uh… okay? That’s still an energy boost, right?”

Ratchet’s optics twitched. “How much did you put in?”

Bulkhead, still clueless, lifted a completely empty bottle.

Ratchet’s spark nearly stopped. “BULKHEAD, THAT WAS A SIXTY-PACK!”

But before Ratchet could scream at Bulkhead or knock the drink out of your hands—

You took a sip from your thermos.

Your optics instantly dilated, pupils shrinking to pinpricks.

Uh oh.

Ratchet barely had time to react before your entire frame vibrated with unholy levels of hyperactivity. Your servos twitched, your processor suddenly moving at speeds even you weren’t prepared for. Your entire body buzzed like you had just been hit with a defibrillator.

And poor you—poor you—was about to pay the price.