"Starscream, Sentinel Prime. Do the two of you have any business with me?"
Starscream and Sentinel Prime exchanged startled glances. How did this orange, carbon-based creature know their names?
Sentinel Prime was particularly perplexed, before arriving, he had meticulously disguised himself, not only altering his appearance but also subtly adjusting his body proportions.
As a veteran of Cybertron's wars, one who had faced down Sentinel Prime himself during his tenure as Prime, he knew well the stature of his adversaries.
Optimus Prime and Megatron stood equally tall and imposing
Starscream was notably shorter than them both, and even in his disguised state, Sentinel Prime still towered over the seeker.
Starscream's surprise manifested in his characteristic obsequious manner. "Teacher, you actually know my name?"
"Starscream is truly honored!"
With his quintessentially treacherous visage, Starscream embodied the archetypal schemer, a role he had perfected across millions of years spanning both animated series and feature films.
Of course, every conspiracy he hatched inevitably crumbled, each betrayal discovered and each ambition thwarted.
Yet he persisted, a testament to either remarkable resilience or spectacular self-delusion.
Sentinel Prime had no intention of acknowledging his true identity.
He shook his head dismissively at Garfield. "You're mistaken. I am not called Sentinel Prime."
Denial. How convenient.
"Since you claim I'm mistaken, let's put it to the test." Garfield's lips curled into a smile.
"Setting aside the question of your name for the moment, I find myself in need of transportation. Which of you would care to volunteer as my vehicle?"
Both Transformers understood precisely what this entailed.
As beings of considerable dignity and stature, neither would willingly submit to serving as transport for an insignificant carbon-based creature.
"I'm afraid that would be unsuitable." Sentinel Prime's refusal was immediate.
Starscream, ever the ambitious student eager to curry favor, raised his hand enthusiastically. "Teacher, I believe I would be most suitable for this role!"
"Observe." Garfield fixed Sentinel Prime with a look of exaggerated disappointment.
"Here we have two beings seeking information, yet notice how enthusiastically Starscream volunteers while you remain... unaccommodating."
The million-year-old schemer possessed skin of remarkable thickness.
Garfield's pointed commentary merely drew an ingratiating smile from the seeker.
Sentinel Prime, however, lacked such forbearance.
What precisely did this organic intend by such terminology?
Sentinel Prime crossed his arms imperiously. "Orange carbon-based creature, I would advise maintaining basic courtesy."
"Failure to do so may result in consequences you will regret."
Garfield spread his paws in mock innocence. "Well now, you know what you are, why not simply accept it honestly?"
"Since you insist you're not Sentinel Prime, your name is irrelevant. But you should understand that Sentinel Prime's folly extended beyond arrogance."
"He believed himself magnificent while being, in truth, rather foolish. Do you comprehend?"
"Do you know how Sentinel Prime met his end?"
"Old one, I hear he lay in a garbage dump for three days and three nights, wailing in agony before finally expiring."
"His body wracked with pain, each moment a testament to his own choices. He could have been Cybertron's savior, his achievements etched into the planet's history."
"Instead, he became nothing but a laughingstock."
"Even death offered no peace. Scavengers devoured his corpse while, it seeme, his tormented spirit still wailed from within."
"And finally, a meteorite descended from the heavens to claim even his grave."
"What exactly are you implying?" Sentinel Prime's optics blazed with fury, his composure shattering.
"Do you believe I won't reduce you to slag where you stand?!"
The plasma cannon in Sentinel Prime's hand hadn't even finished transforming when Garfield casually raised a paw and murmured, "Fuchsia."
With a flick of his wrist, the ten-meter-tall Titan turned completely upside down, dangling helplessly in the air.
Impressive.
Even Garfield had to admit that upending a mech of this size required considerable magical reserves.
Any ordinary wizard would have collapsed from the strain. But then again, he was no ordinary wizard.
With the enemy properly suspended, it was time for the true lesson to begin.
Garfield turned to Starscream, who had instinctively backpedaled several steps in alarm.
"Starscream! Come closer. Observe what it truly means to 'convince through virtue.'"
Under the wary gaze of the seeker's crimson optics, Garfield produced his signature Cat Hammer from seemingly nowhere and floated up beside the dangling Sentinel Prime.
He positioned himself thoughtfully, considering the most effective point of impact.
"Four is four, ten is ten~"
WHANG
"Fourteen is fourteen, forty is forty~"
WHANG
"Don't call forty 'proper,' don't call fourteen 'proper'~"
WHANG
"To properly pronounce four and ten, it all depends on your tongue and teeth~"
WHANG
"If you want to say four correctly, touch your teeth with your tongue~"
WHANG
"If you want to say ten correctly, don't straighten your tongue~"
WHANG
"Study hard, practice often, fourteen, forty, forty-four!"
WHANG WHANG WHANG
The rhythmic clang of hammer on metal echoed through the air, punctuated by electrical crackles and Sentinel Prime's increasingly ragged protests.
Through it all, Starscream stood processing the scene before him with growing unease.
He had witnessed many things in his millions of cycles… battles, betrayals, executions.
But never a small orange creature wielding a hammer while reciting... poetry? Arithmetic tables?
Whatever that incantation was supposed to be.
I shouldn't be here, Starscream realized. I should be anywhere but here. Preferably under something very heavy and very far away.
Every time Garfield glanced back with that deceptively sweet smile, Cat Hammer still in paw, Starscream felt as though each blow landed on his frame instead.
His plating seemed to tingle sympathetically.
His spark pulsed with an unfamiliar sensation, one he belatedly identified as fear.
"Dog egg," Garfield called cheerfully, pausing his demonstration. "Are you convinced yet?"
Sentinel Prime, circuits sparking and systems stuttering, managed one last defiant snarl: "You'll... pay for this... carbon-based... insect~"
"Forty."
WHANG
"Forty."
WHANG
"Forty."
WHANG
Ten minutes passed. Then another ten.
When Garfield paused again, Sentinel Prime's optics had dimmed considerably, occasional sparks flickering across his frame.
"Are you convinced now?" Garfield repeated pleasantly.
"I will... definitely~"
"Forty."
WHANG
"Forty."
WHANG
"Forty."
WHANG
Starscream began edging backward, preparing to deploy his most reliable skill… the tactical retreat.
He had taken exactly two steps when Garfield's ears twitched.
"Little guy." The teacher's voice was warm. "Would you like to learn from his example?"
Starscream froze mid-step, then smoothly returned to his original position. "Oh no, teacher, I couldn't possibly, merely observing is enough to last me a lifetime!"
Garfield nodded approvingly. "Your humility does you credit. But I sense you haven't fully absorbed the lesson. Allow me to demonstrate once more."
"Forty."
WHANG
"Forty."
WHANG
"Forty."
Another ten minutes passed.
Finally, Garfield addressed the now-unresponsive Sentinel Prime, whose systems had mercifully shut down from the electrical overload.
"Have you realized your mistake?"
No response. Garfield calmly increased the Hammer's current output. Sentinel Prime's frame convulsed weakly.
"Ah, excellent, I see you're acknowledging your error. And do you intend to correct it?"
Another convulsion. Another spark shower.
Garfield looked profoundly satisfied. "Truly, genuine repentance is a beautiful thing. This king graciously forgives you."
He turned to Starscream. "Little guy."
Starscream snapped to attention faster than he had for any Decepticon commander in four million years.
"YES, TEACHER! Your command?"
"Relax. Tell me, what did you learn today?"
Starscream's optics darted briefly to the twitching form of Sentinel Prime, then back to Garfield's patient smile.
His vocoder processed approximately seventeen potential responses in under a second, selecting the one with the highest survival probability.
"I learned... a profound truth from this example. Everything the teacher says is correct."
"And I will follow faithfully in the teacher's footsteps!"
Four million years of practice had made him an artist of obsequiousness.
Garfield's smile widened approvingly. "Your ideological awareness is commendably high."
"Very well, this king has a mission for you."
Starscream practically vibrated with eagerness. "I guarantee successful completion, teacher!"