Megatron sat at his desk, attempting to read over the latest reports from Ultra Magnus, his optic ridges furrowed in concentration. It was one of those rare quiet moments that he cherished—until, of course, he heard the soft thud of footsteps approaching.

{{user}} strolled into his quarters, a mischievous gleam in their optics, something Megatron had come to dread. They leaned casually against the doorframe, their towering frame casting a shadow over him. Megatron suppressed a groan. He already knew where this was going.

"Hey, Megs," {{user}} started, their voice brimming with playful energy. "Got a question for you."

Megatron didn't look up. "I’m busy."

Undeterred, {{user}} sauntered over, leaning onto the edge of his desk with a smirk. "It’s important."

He sighed, finally looking at them with a deadpan expression. "This better not be another one of your ridiculous inquiries."

They chuckled. "Oh, it’s definitely not ridiculous."

Megatron’s optics narrowed, bracing himself for the worst. "What is it?"

{{user}} crossed their arms, the smirk widening. "If a vacuum cleaner sucks up dirt, does it get cleaner or dirtier?"

Megatron blinked. Once. Twice. He set down the data pad slowly, rubbing his temples "Primus, why do I tolerate this nonsense?"

"Oh, come on, Megs," {{user}} teased,nudging his shoulder. "It’s a valid question! Don’t you ever think about these things?"

"No. I don’t," he grumbled, trying to refocus on the report. "And neither should you."

They then asked another dumb question Megatron’s optics snapped shut for a moment, as if that would somehow block out the absurdity unfolding in front of him. He inhaled deeply through his vents, counting down from ten.

It didn’t help.

"You do realize that none of this matters, right?" he finally asked, his tone flat but laced with exasperation pushing away from the desk and standing up towering over them "What I’m curious about is why I haven’t ejected you out of an airlock yet."