The Ark

     "This is a great day for the Autobots!" Optimus Prime announced.
     "Don't tell me," Ironhide groaned, "Not Spring Clean again?"
     A murmer went through the ranks of the Autobots inside the Ark.
     Jazz asked, "What's wrong with Spring Clean, man? Makin' all nice and shiny."
     "Jazz his right," Optimus said, "Only a tidy base will provide a groundwork for defeating
Megatron."
     "Besides," Wheeljack informed everyone in general, "I've developed this totally new
cleaning gear, which should help us to get the place clean in no time." Wheeljack had prepared an
instruction manual for anyone, and handed out a *thick* book to each bot.   A collective groan
rose from a group of Generic Autobots(tm).
     "I'd rather polish my chrome than polish Teletran-1's screens," Sunstreaker griped, "Half
of them aren't even intact!"
     "Well, that's another problem, Sunstreaker.  We ran out of wax," Optimus replied.
Sunstreaker went off to a corner and sulked.
     "Er, Optimus," Ironhide ventured, "Don't you think that some of us should stay on alert in
case the Decepticons try something?"
     "I already have a plan, Ironhide."
     "Let's hear it!" Bumblebee called from the crowd.
     "The Aerialbots will clean the outside of the base, in order to keep an optic on things,"
Optimus told the assembly, "The other Autobots will receive their assignments from Prowl as
soon as we have the cleaning supplies."

Deceptibase

     Soundwave, Frenzy, and Starscream stood around a certain spot on the floor, and looked
down at it, discussing.
     "Try something else!  Megatron will not like it!" Starscream said with a diabolical grin.
     "How did this thing get here anyway?" Frenzy asked.
     "Origin and type of stain unknown," Soundwave said after a brief analysis.
     Megatron, armed with a string mop and bucket, came over from the other end of the
room.  "I ordered you to clean!"
     Starscream answered, "Mighty Megatron, we are facing a problem which can only be
solved by a brilliant mind like yours."
     Megatron sneered, "Starscream, your customary facetiousness is overshadowed by that
bandana you have tied over your head."
     "But you told us to fight this battle with all means neccessary!" Starscream protested.  He
removed the bandana from his head, and started to polish the stain on the floor.  "See?" he
continued, "It just won't disappear!  And we tried everything."
     "Yeah!" Rumble chimed in, "Even nail polish remover.  Nothing'!"
     "Nail polish remover?" Megatron demanded, "Why do we have nail polish. . ." he looked at
Starscream, "Never mind.
     "Nothing works?  Even the Autobot soap I ordered you to steal?"
     "Autobot soap?" Soundwave asked carefully.
     "Yes!" Megatron shouted, "Autobot soap!  I ordered you to steal it last week.  Bah!  I am
surrounded by incompetents!"
     "But Megatron!" Starscream dissented, "You ordered us to steal the top secret vac-o-tron
from that laboratory.  We hadn't time to look for that soap."
     "No excuses!  This is not *any* soap!" Megatron shouted and handed over the string mop
and the bucket to the Screamer.  "Now have a look how a real Decepticon gets rid of a tiny stain
like
that!"  Megatron began to work frantically on the stain, but it didn't help.    Megatron became
really
angry, and everyone moved out of range, busy with *cleaning*, Rumble muttering "This is geek
work!  Skywarp should be doin' this!"  Only Starscream stood next to Megs, seeming a bit lost
with
the bandana, the rubber mop, and the bucket.  Soundwave started playing a merry tune, as Megs'
swearing got louder.
     "Mop, mop, mop, all day long.  Mop, mop, mop, while I sing this song.  Gonna wax that flor,
gonna make it shine, gonna take of the spraypaint with turpentine," hummed Soundwave.
     Megatron got a fit, and charged his gun.  "I am Megatron, and I order you to disappear, you
worthless stain!" The stain remained. [Image: a heavy cloud forming over Megs' head.] "Obey!
I'm
your leader!" he shouted.  He took aim with the fusion cannon.  "Disappear or terminate!" The
stain
decided to stay and face its termination.  Megatron blew a hole into the floor, and a scream of
pain
was heard from the level below, where the Constructicons were working on Vac-o-tron.
     "What was that for?" Mixmaster wanted to know, and rubbed the spot where he was hit.
     "Now that's the way to treat a stain!" He hears the triumphant voice of Megatron.
     Mixmaster stared at the spot where Megatron's cannon hit him.  "A stain . . ." he said
thoughtfully.

Meanwhile, in the Ark

     Optimus had put together a special team to get the required materials (beside the Autobot
soap).  Cliffjumper and Bumblebee, and Ironhide for transport.  Spike, Chip,and Carly to show
them
around.
     "Ironhide, you'll go with them," Optimus ordered.
     "But, Prahm!"  Ironhide protested, "This is work for a maintenance bot!"
     "No argument, Ironhide," Optimus looked stern, "This is important.  Besides, we don't have
any maintenance bots.  They're still being rebuilt from the crash."
     So, the three humans stand together and wonder how many bases Optimus wants to clean
with all the stuff.
     "The Ark *is* large," Carly commented, sounding somewhat doubtful.
     "Well. . . I know how much stuff my mother keeps for spring clean. . ." Chip mused, "But,
maybe if I work out something to increase the efficiency of the clean, we could get off with less
cleaner."
     "This is going to cost the Autobots a fortune," Spike adds.
     "Not that they have much to begin with," Chip continued.
     Ironhide joined the three.  "Let's do this quickly an' quietly.  Ah don't wan' any of the other
Autobots ta see me doin' *this* work. . ."

Back at Deceptibase

     Megatron looked through the hole he had blasted into the floor.  He saw that Vac-o-tron had
almost been assembled.  Vac-o-tron: the ultimate weapon in the fight against the dirt-devils.
     "Megatron, do you really think we *need* something like that to clean the base?" Starscream
asked, "It's not that much of a mess."
     "Starscream," Megatron replied, "We'll probably need something like that just to clean
*your* quarters!" The other Decepticons laughed, and Starscream went over to a corner to sulk.
Megatron ordered the Constructicons to start the monster, and everyone took cover.
     Mixmaster: "Primay start-up sequence commencing. . . primary start-up sequence online.
Boost up power."
     Scrapper: "Boosting!  Vac-o-tron at full capacity."
     Vac-o-tron's lights were blinking, and the sound of an immense suck was heard.  The
Vac-o-tron began to hum loudly, sounding more like a growl.  Starscream stopped sulking, and
looked at
the Vac-o-tron, then for a place to shelter. The Constructicons stared at each other, then at
Megatron.
     Scrapper: "@#&$!"
     Vac-o-tron moved forward, towards the Decepticons.
     "Program: Cleaning.
     "Target: Spotted." At the word  spotted' the Vac-o-tron changes direction towards
Mixmaster, who has the mark of Megatron's cleaning attempt on him.  Mixmaster looked
horrified.
Megatron stared at the scene, and didn't believe what he saw.  Mixmaster grabbed Scrapper and
threw him in the path of the monster cleaning machine.
     "Program: Terminate rubble."
     "I'm no rubble, you idiot!" Scrapper shouted, and tried to crawl away.  The Vac-o-tron
accelerated and scanned Scrapper.
     "Inconsequential.  Sensors indicate target.  Directive: Eliminate target." The other
Decepticons came out of their hiding holes, and started to laugh at the scene.  Scrapper tried to
escape, but the Vac-o-tron adapted to his speed, sucking up whatever came in it's way.  Loose
tools
and spare components disappear within the behemoth.
     Megatron recovered from his  shock' and started shouting; "Do something!  Stop him!"
     Soundwave, Blitzwing, and some others sneaked up behind Vac-o-tron and grabbed it, putting
in all their weight to stop the crazed cleaner.  Unfortunately for them, this only worsened the
situation.  The Vac-o-tron's suction power was such that it ripped a panel out of the floor.
     "Vac-o-tron slowed down by unidentified metal components.
     "Directive: Destroy unidentified metal components and prepare them for recycling." An panel
at the back of Vac-o-tron slid open.  Soundwave and Blitzwing exchanged glances, and the
Decepticons swiftly got out of the way as a laser popped out.
     "Run!" shouted Mixmaster.
     Vac-o-tron shot at the Decepticons who hadn't run yet.  Starscream nearly got hit by a blast,
and shouted in anger, "My finish!" he aimed one of his arm-lasers at the device.
     "No, Starscream!" Megatron hollered, worried about his precious machine.
     Vac-o-tron turned.  "Vac-o-tron under attack!" The Screamer aimed at Vac-o-tron. . .
"Vac-o-tron under attack.  Directive: Kill opposition.  Destroy the grand poo-bah.  Eliminate even
the toughest stains!"
     "Poo-bah!" Starscream screamed.  In his anger, he missed Vac-o-tron and hit a spot close to
Megatron.
     "At least it called you the  grand' poo-bah, instead of the geeky poo-bah!" Skywarp teased
Starscream.
     "ARGHH!!!!!" Starscream's optics went bright red with rage.  Vac-o-tron rolled oer to the
Decepticon second in command and the noise of inrushing air increased.  Starscream felt himself
losing his grip on the floor.  "MEGATROOON!!!!"  He screamed.
      "Decepticons!  Attack!" Megatron had come to the conclusion that it might be better to give
Vac-o-tron a long inspection before it came online again.  That, or give it to the Autobots as a
gift.

The local supermarket

     Carly, Spike, Chip, and Bumble bee - Cliffjumper having managed to get out of it - were
standing in the household cleaner aisle.  Bumblebee stared at the rows of cleaners, wondering
what
the heck to buy.
     "Glass cleaner.  Bleach.  Ummmmm. . . . . metal polish??  Floor cleaner with Flower, Forest,
and Sea smell??" Bumblebee paused, then asked, "Why is the bleach lemon-scented?"
     While the humans seem to know exactly what to buy Bumblebee gives the growing pile of
cleaners and cleaning equipment in the shopping cart a wary glance.  Bumblebee wasn't quite sure
what, beyond cleaning, they were going to *do* with all the stuff, much less how they were going
to pay for it.
     "Um, do you guys think we have enough?" Carly asked, looking alternatively at the cart,
the shelves, and the shopping list.
      I hope Optimus has a plan for this, too,' Bumblebee thought, watching the pile grow a bit
taller when Spike added another box of soap.
     "We did get all the stuff from the list?" Chip wanted to know.
     "Just about.  We need to get some wax," Carly commented.  Then; "Hey, this isn't
Optimus' handwriting!"
     Bumblebee looked over her shoulder.  "23 containers of wax?  Hey, that's Sunstreaker's
writing!"
     "And Optimus authorized this?" Chip wondered.
     "We'll get a few anyway," Spike decided, "Just to be sure."
     "We have hardly enough money to pay for the stuff we have already," Carly reminded
him.
     "Put them in," Bumblebee sighed.  "I don't want to be around when we show up
*without* the wax.  Sunstreaker will go berserk."
     The carts where wheeled up to the cash register.  The cashier stared up at Bumblebee,
stunned by his presence, and missed scanning a couple of items due to shock.  When the cashier
had recovered, he shook his head.  "Sorry. . . Wrong line. This is the fast lane."
     "So?  We want to get through fast," Bumblebee replied.
     "Er, that's not what he means, Bumblebee," Spike corrected, "We have too much stuff to
get it rung through in this lane."
      Humans,' the Autobot thought, unnerved.  "So, where do we go then?" he asked politely,
remembering what Optimus had told him about treating these strange creatures.
     They took the cart to another lane; there had been another human heading towards it, but
he quickly found another when he saw the Autobot.  About thirty minutes later, the cashier had
scanned the last of the many items, and Carly had stowed it in the last cart.
     "That's 2599 dollars and 97 cents, sir," the cashier informed Spike.
     "What???" the three humans and the Autobot screamed in unison.
     "That must be wrong," Bumblebee said, after he had recovered from the first shock. "My
calculations give a total of 259.99 of your currency."
     "Would you please check it again?" Carly looked at the cashier, still polite, but
determinned.
     "Ma'am," the cashier sighed, "This will require all the items to be scanned again."
     "Just-do-it!" Carly said through clenched teeth, and the cashier heaved a sigh.
"Bumblebee, Spike. . . Get those carts back here!"
     "259 dollars and 99 cents," the cashier admitted finally.
     "Thank you," Carly said triumphantly, handing the bags to Bumblebee to carry.
     "I told you," Bumblebee said, satisfied, "We Autobots are experts on numbers."
     When they left the mall, Ironhide was already waiting impatiently for his friends.
     "Whut took you guys so long?  Ah've been waitin' here for astro-minutes!" he grumbled.
Then; "Whut's that?  Yer plannng an invasion or sumthing?"
     "It wasn't that long, Ironhide," Carly smiled, patting his hood affectionately, "And no, it's
not *quite* an invasion."
     "More of a war on dirt," Spike added, helping Bumblebee load their purchases into
Ironhide's trunk.  Ironhide felt the weight of the worlds of cleaning lasting on him.
     "Whutever.  Ah just wanna get gone, and get this done so we can git back to whut's
reahlly importahnt!" Ironhide complained, "Busting Deceptibutt!"

The Decepticons had their own problems at that time. . . .

     "We will need the Autobot Soap of cleaning," Megatron was close to a nervous
breakdown.
     "The retrieval of the soap would be an excellent test for the new recruit," Soundwave
intoned.
     "Yes, excellent, Soundwave!" Megatron sounded better already.  "Inform Windrazor that
I wish to speak with him."
     Windrazor was in his quarters when the summons came.
     "Megatron wants to speak to you, Windrazor.  He has an important mission for you,"
Starscream's voice screeched out of the speakers.
     "I will be there shortly," Windrazor answered.  Windrazor finished unpacking the box he
had been working on, and proceeded to the conference room where he assumed Megatron to be.
But Megatron wasn't in the conference room, like he expected.  Instead, the silver-red
Decepticon heard the voice of his leader booming from one of the lower decks.  He was saying
something about soap.  Windrazor wondered what *that* was about, then decided he didn't need
to know.  He was a new arrival to Earth, after all.  It was not his place to question Megatron.
When he came closer to the large hall, which the Constructions used to build their stuff, he began
to worry.  The conversation seemed to center around Autobots, and some event called  spring
cleaning' and the theft of something - obviously his mission - and soap.  Suddenly, a horrifying
thought came to him.
     They wanted *him* to steal the soap.
     Not any soap.
     Autobot soap.
      Oh, no,' flashed through his mind as he stepped through the doors.  "Windrazor reporting
as ordered, Commander Megatron," he said clearly, saluting.
     "Ah. . . Windrazor. . ." Starscream grinned.
     Windrazor didn't like the sound of that.  And even less, he liked the grin on Starscream's
face.
     "What are your orders, Megatron?" he asked, pointedly.
     "You will enter the Autobot base and get something that is crucial for our recent mission,"
Megatron said with a straight face.
      "As you command, Megatron," Windrazor replied, bowing slightly.  "What is it?"  Please,
Primus, don't let it be the soap,' he prayed,  That would be so - undignified.'
     "The Autobot Soap of Cleaning," Megatron told him.  "Go now!"
     "As you command, Megatron," Windrazor repeated.  "I go immediately." In his mind,
however, he screamed  NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!' Windrazor felt like he had just been run
over by Optimus Prime.  This was so unbelievably *humiliating*!  As he left the room, he could
hear the other Decepticons break into laughter.  He felt anger rising inside him, anger about those
idiots.  But he would show them that he was made of sterner stuff  like any of them.  He would
succeed, and then they would laugh no more.  Windrazor took off into the sky, heading for the
Ark, and the soap.

     Optimus Prime watched the progress of the Autobot Spring Clean with a satisfied smile.
Thanks to the Soap, they had managed to get rid of the worst stains.  And four million year old
stains can be hard to get rid of.
     "Bring the soap back to the vault," Optimus told one of the Aerialbots.  Air Raid nodded,
picked up the Soap of Cleaning, and began to return to the vault. As Air Raid went on his way, a
sudden screaming sound was heard.  An unfamiliar-looking Decepticon jet swooped down over
the Ark and surrounding land.  It buzzed the others, causing them to duck reflexively, then blitzed
Air Raid, who fell to the ground, instinctively protecting the soap with his body.  Air Raid gasped.
There was only one thing the Decepticon could be after. . . The Soap.
     Windrazor transformed, looking down at the avian Autobot.  He felt nothing but
humiliation and anger at Megatron, but what could he do?  Megatron was his commander, and
extremely powerful.  All he could do was - steal the soap.
     Windrazor stooped down on the Autobot again, hoping that this joke of a mission would
be over soon.  He grabbed his fallen foe by the shoulder, yanking him upright.  The soap was
clenched between the Autobot's hands.
     The other Autobots got up and saw what was happening.
     "No ya don't, Decepticreep!" Ironhide yelled.  He grabbed his gun, and doused Air Raid
with a stream of water.
     "Ironhide - NO!" Optimus yelled, but it was too late.  Under the influence of the water,
the Soap gained its full power.
     Air Raid kicked the Decepticon attacker, the Autobot Soap safely in his hands.  Windrazor
stumbled back.  The waterbeam hit Air Raid, and he felt the water soaking down to the soap.  The
suds had flooded over him, leaving him bright and shiny clean.
     "Oh no. . ." he muttered.
     Windrazor grinned diabolically.  This was his chance.  He reached down, and grabbed the
soap from the Autobot's hands.  Well. . . That was the plan.  But the moment he grabbed it, it
slipped away and flew away.  Windrazor cursed fluently in his native language and several others.
Bad enough the mission was humiliating, it wasn't even going well!  He dove after the soap, and
caught it.  Gritty with sand, it was easier to pick up.  Air Raid cursed as well.  His gears were
screeching, and he found it hard to move.  Windrazor shunted the soap to subspace, grinned evilly
at Air Raid, transformed and took off.  Air Raid tried to transform, but his configuration joints
were locking as well.
     "Get up, Air Raid!  You have to follow him!" Ironhide shouted angrily.
     "Aerialbots!  After him!" he shouted from his undignified position, "I can't transform!"
     Windrazor was in trouble.  Deep trouble.  Frustrated and annoyed by Ironhide's tone as
well as embarassed, Air Raid sent a mental command to his nanites.  The nanoscopic technicians
swarmed to his joints, both root and configuration, and proceeded to give them a new coat of
grease.  The grease warred briefly with the soap residue, then won out, driving it back.
     "I'm stuck!" Air Raid growled angrily.  Once again he sent the command to his nanites,
and the flow of lubricant increased once more.  He would desperately need to renew his lubricant
levels once this was over, but it wasn't over yet!
     Meanwhile, Windrazor was facing a completely different problem.  The soap he had
stowed in his subspace compartment started to play havoc on his internal systems.  The fine foam
soaked into his electronics slowly but steadily.  Windrazor could feel himself beginning to short
out.  Desperately, hoping to outrun both the Aerialbots and his own technical difficulties, he
shunted all available power to his thrusters, and took off in the direction of Deceptibase.  He
could hear the Aerialbots behind him, and he contemplated radioing for help, but knew he would
never live it down if he needed help to steal *soap* from *Autobots*!  So, he pulled himself
together.  Or rather said, he tried to pull himself together.  The soap had found its way into his
transforming circuitry, and he began to lose control over his body.  Windrazor's plane nose
clapped down, and his arms came out of the plane shape.
     "Slag!" he cursed, when the sudden turbulences this caused almost ripped him apart.  He
lost valuable time and lead while he tried to stabilize his course again.  He had almost stabilized
himself, when he transformed back to plane mode.  What he said next could not have been
understood by any human - undoubtedly to their benefit - but the Autobots understood it all too
well.  If they could have blushed, they would have.  Language like that was NOT permitted in
Optimus Prime's army, but that didn't mean they didn't use it when he wasn't around.
     Air Raid was really upset by what Windrazor inferred about his creator.
     This gave him new power, and he caught up to the troubled Decepticon.  In order to
properly retaliate verbally, he had to get close to the  Con; insult or no, what he had to say to
Windrazor he did not want Prime to overhear.  So he switched off his radio when he came close.
Windrazor looked back, realizing that he wouldn't make it on his own if not a miracle happened.
His transformation was highly unstable, and slowed him down.  The soap was working its way
through his body, and soon he was not just losing his transformation, but his direction as well.  He
could see sky above him, and pulled up towards it.  At least, he thought he was pulling up.  When
he slammed into a hard surface, he clued in very quickly.
     "OWWWWW!" There wasn't a part of his body that hadn't deformed or was aching.
Still, he had a mission to do! And how ridiculous would he appear to the other Decepticons when
he couldn't even get *soap*?
     Said soap was now lying on the ground, foaming gently and getting sandier by the minute.
He tried to grab it, but he couldn't get himself to move.  His gears were covered with fine soap
foam.
     "Gotcha now, Decepticreep," Air Raid hissed, and he couldn't hide the triumph in his
voice.  He added something in his native language, the traditional retribution plus a few frills, for
Windrazor's slight on his creator.
     Windrazor's optics gleamed with barely suppressed anger.  He tried to fire his weapon,
but couldn't move.  Angrily, he attempted the same maneuver Air Raid had used earlier, and
released a flood of lubricant to his gears.  Even the smallest movement ended with a loud
screeching sound, when metal rubbed on metal.  Air Raid stretched out his arm and took the
Soap, and he held it in front of Windrazor's face with a grin.
     "Is that what you wanted?"
     "Autobot wretch!" Windrazor growled.  Still he was unable to move properly, but he
didn't care.   He managed to lunge towards Air Raid, and knock him over.   Air Raid kept a grip
on the soap, wondering where the other Autobots were.  They struggled hard, and finally
Windrazor got a corner of the soap between his fingers.  It was becoming easier for him to move,
and he pulled.
     "Let go of that Soap!" Air Raid snarled angrily when he realized that the Decepticon was
more than he had bargained for.  "This Soap is Autobot property!"
      "Well, woo-%&@)-hoo," Windrazor snapped back, raising his fist and punching Air
Raid.
     "That Soap is mine now!" The silver-red Decepticon smiled, when his opponent staggered
back.  But the Autobot didn't give in that easily.
     "Like the Void!" he screamed.  "Unhand the Soap!"
     The two robots dragged and teared; neither of them were ready to surrender.
     "Decepticons never surrender!" yelled Windrazor.
     "Neither do Aerialbots!" Air Raid shouted back.
     "That soap is mine!"
     "No - MINE!!!!!"
     Suddenly, there was a squelch, then a  yerp' sound.  The Soap broke in two.  Windrazor
decided to cut his losses, and took off once again, transforming as he went.  Air Raid sat on the
ground, and stared after the Decepticon, then at the remains of the Soap he still held in his hand.
He sighed, and swore in every language he had heard of.  Optimus would want an explanation.
And it had better be good, Air Raid knew.  It was better than nothing, but he didn't think that
Optimus Prime would be too pleased.

Back at Deceptibase. . . .

     "Windrazor approaches," Soundwave informed Megatron.
     "His flight pattern is somewhat strange," Starscream added.  "He seems to be incapable of
holding a straight course.
     Megatron cleaned his hands on the apron-like cover he wore to protect his systems, and
looked over Soundwave's shoulder to the screen.  "Does he have the Soap?" the Decepticon
leader wanted to know. [Ed.  The apron was *not* Firebird's idea.]
     "What will we do, now we have the soap?" Starscream asked Megatron.
     "Clean, Starscream," Megatron answered sarcastically, "Or are you not familiar with that
particular function?"
     The other Decepticons laughed, and Starscream glared at them, before going off to a
corner to sulk again.  Starscream scowled.  Here he was, the finest warrior of them all.  And what
was he expected to fight?  Dust and dirt.  Realizing that no-one was paying attention to him,
headed for the energon depot.  Minutes later, there was the sound of a heavy body hitting the
floor when Starscream had overenergized, but no-one paid attention to it.  It was a common
sound.
     Windrazor, upon landing, brought the soap directly to Megatron.  He only wanted to be
rid of the stuff, and go have a nice long soak in hot oil.
     "Megatron," Windrazor saluted, trying not to sound as if he just wanted to crawl into his
recharge bed and never leave again, "I bring you - part - of the Autobot Soap of Cleaning."
     "Part?" Megatron thundered.  "I told you to bring *all* of the Soap!"
     "I apologize, my lord Megatron," Windrazor humbled himself, "But the Autobots
intervened and the soap - malfunctioned - in subspace, and interfered with my transformation
abilities.  It was part or none."  Secretly, he was impressed that Megatron could be imposing even
while wearing an apron.
     Megatron seemed mollified.  "Part is better than none.  You have done well, Windrazor.
     "Such heroism has to be rewarded," Megatron kept a straight face, but he knew what
humiliation a promotion for saving the Spring Clean day would be for any warrior.  Windrazor
knew it too, but did not let the sinking feeling in his fuel processor show.
     "Thank you, mighty Megatron," Windrazor wished that the floor would open beneath his
feet, or that he would faint, or become invisisble.   Please no reward,' he thought.   Please,
*please* no reward!'
     "I want every Decepticon to know that, thanks to Windrazor here, the Autobot Soap of
Cleaning was retrieved from the hands of those weaklings."  Megatron slapped a hand on
Windrazor's shoulder.  "His name shall be honored from this day on on every Spring Clean!"
       Oh, Primus, NO!!!!!!!' Windrazor nearly screamed.
     Soundwave looked at Windrazor with a mixture of amusement and pity, then took the
soap out of his hand.  "Thank you kindly, Soap-Master."
     Windrazor's hands clamped into fists.  He wanted to sink into the floor.  The other
Decepticons weren't even trying to hide their smirks.  Instead, he thanked Megatron, and waited
to be dismissed so he could go to his quarters and get thoroughly over-energized.
     One Earth hour later, he keeled over and fell to the floor.
     "Maid-o-tron!" was the last thing he mumbled before he went offline.

     "Nonono!  That won't work!" Wheeljack watched how Ironhide and Hoist heaved Air
Raid over the large pool.  The Aerialbot was still unable to move, thanks to his previous
encounter with the soap and water.
     "More to the left!" Wheeljack directed them.  "Yes, that's good. . . Now, lower him!"
     Unfortunately, Ironhide's grip slipped and Air Raid plunged into the pool.  Although
neither of then knew it, Windrazor and Air Raid had something in common today; a wish to sink
into a hole and never emerge.  He let the liquids sink into his joints, and reflected bitterly that the
next time Optimus Prime wanted something cleaned *he* would be someplace else entirely!

Epilogue:

Primal: "Now, Rattrap.  Our ancestors performed the ritual of Spring Cleaning for three hundred
years.  It's a tradition."

Rattrap: "Fine.  But I ain't wearin' dis outfit."