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The Human Stain	By : Subtext Category: S through Z > Transformers (Movie Only) > Transformers (Movie Only) Views: 2378 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
- 9
- 10
- 11
The Human Stain: Chapter 10
And that road rolls out like a welcome mat

I don't know where it goes but it beats where we�re at

We always said some day some how

Were gonna get away, gonna
blow this town
-Emerson Drive, What About Now

They drove northeast on 93 the very next morning, towards
the Hoover Dam. From there they would curl north, and drive the remaining leg
of the journey. Before any of this occurred, Claire had convinced Smokescreen
to stop by her house so she might pack a few things and grab her purse. He had
reluctantly relented. There was a shared buzz between Miguel and Claire the
whole while, something intangible but definitely detectable. Despite the grisly
circumstances that had forced them into the impromptu road trip, there was an
air of excitement that lifted their spirits. An adventure had begun to unfold,
something that both paint store employees had been long denied. Their long,
tedious days at Ashbury Paints had dulled their
exteriors. It was only now that they felt rejuvenated, as if there had truly
been a point to their seemingly pointless lives. Nothing seemed to be able to
hold them back � until the thermometer climbed.
The sun glared down upon the world below with its usual intensity, heating
up Subaru�s two occupants. They had long since passed the Hoover Dam, and were
nearing the Mission
City limits. Both the
driver and passenger side windows were all the way down, leaving it very
difficult to communicate. Miguel had refused the air conditioning Smokescreen
offered, leaving Claire on the verge of homicidal urges.
�I do not understand your refusal.� Smokescreen�s disembodied voice filled
the car, which in turn made Miguel shudder. ��But if you will not take
advantage of the air conditioning, it is of no consequence to me.�
Claire shot Miguel a grouchy look while fanning her face with one hand. She
had opted to take the driver�s seat, but she wasn�t steering the car. �It�s 98
degrees outside. Could you please bag your marbles and think straight?�
Miguel shook his head and stuck his face further out the passenger-side
window like a dog. �No way, Claire.�
�But why?�
�It�s� it�s just� don�t you see? It would be like him breathing on me
for the entire ride.�
The car fell silent.
Claire snickered. Soon, the tittering gave way to full-blown laughter. �Oh
man, oh man,� the woman chortled, wiping at corners of her eyes with a thumb.
�That was rich. Got any other snippets of wisdom? I bet you do.�
Miguel looked sullen.
�What else is there� oh, I suppose sitting in that seat right there
qualifies as a massive hand cupping your butt too.�
Both humans felt the Subaru�s engine choke. It sputtered several times as if
failing, caught itself, and then resumed its steady hum.
The tanned man gave the woman next to him a startled look, as if the thought
hadn�t yet crossed his mind. �Wh-what?!� he blustered. Miguel raised himself
off the leather seat so that his back supported the full force of his weight.
There was now a good three inches beneath him, enough to give him some small
comfort from Claire�s observation. One hand was braced on the car�s center
console, the other on the door.
Smokescreen was strangely silent, and Claire was enjoying herself immensely.
Her sniggering had subsided, but one corner of her mouth was cocked into a
half-grin.
�Did you know,� she began innocently, �that touching the console here is
like resting your hand on his thigh?�
Miguel ripped his hand away, but lost the support he needed to keep his body
above the seat. He promptly plopped down upon the leather again, flinching as
he did so.
Claire broke out into more howls of laughter.
Miguel�s eyebrow twitched.
Smokescreen finally spoke. His voice was cool. �I understand your plight,
Miguel.�
Claire�s coworker looked both uncomfortable and murderous. He leaned on one
thigh closer to the window, and popped his head out again. The rush of the air
whistling by his ears proved to lesson the peal of mirth from the huckster
sitting beside him. He came to a conclusion not much later, and he stood by it
one hundred percent. Real or not, women were terrible creatures.
�I would like to clarify one thing, however,� Smokescreen said, continuing
from where he had paused. His tone was level and calm, as if he were merely
making a remark about the weather. �If any one of the two seats you are both
occupying were in any way �massive hands�, I would
find no joy out of �cupping� the passenger side.�
Miguel looked somewhat relieved, until the full weight of insinuation
settled in the minds of both humans. Claire jerked like she had been stung like
a bee. Gray eyes flicked to Miguel�s brown ones, and the two shared their
sudden knowledge in different ways.
Miguel looked triumphant; Claire looked trumped.
�PERVERT!�

The trio did not head for the heart of Mission City
like Claire expected. They skimmed the outskirts, eventually ending up on a
quiet suburban street before a two-story colonial home. They were in the town
of Tranquility, an outlying suburb of Mission City. When Smokescreen eventually angled
towards the curb and rolled to a stop, Miguel and Claire exchanged looks. It
hardly seemed the place they had envisioned. Maybe a secret
lair, a back alley or a desolate canyon � not Suburbia. A man in nothing
but a brown bathrobe trotted out of one of the houses to retrieve the morning
paper. He gave the Subaru a once-over as he made his
trek, gave a low whistle, and then fiddled with the contents of his mailbox.
�You�re kidding me,� Claire muttered. She was sitting as straight as a board
with her hands folded in her lap. Smokescreen�s remark still ran through her
mind, keeping her in a state of preserved alarm.
��And why did we stop?� Miguel questioned pleasantly. He started humming to
himself, feigning obliviousness to Claire�s discomfort.
Smokescreen�s voice floated up from somewhere ahead of them. If he was
enjoying Claire�s anxiety, his tone did not betray it. �Bumblebee is here.�
Claire momentarily forgot her paranoia long enough to ask, �What is
Bumblebee?�
�You shall see.� The doors on either side of the car clicked and swung
aside. Both humans took it as an indication to exit and did so. Claire appeared
especially thankful to be out of the car, and was out before Miguel. The engine
made a sound somewhere between a rattle and a purr.
�You had better not be laughing,� Claire said accusingly.
�Never,� Smokescreen replied.
Her eyes narrowed, and she turned away. Stupid,
lecherous cars.
She blinked. Did she just think that? She shook her head. Never.
The man at the mailbox had long since returned to the confines of his home.
The house right next to his, the one in whose shadow they stood, seemed in no
way special.
Well, that is if you didn�t count the sunny yellow Camaro
sitting in the open garage. Not only was it a Camaro,
it was a new Camaro.
Claire was getting yet another sneaking suspicion. �Let me guess, it�s not
what it appears to be.�
The Subaru said nothing.
The door to the house opened then, and an awkward youth emerged. He had
brown hair, large eyes and a gangly walk that carried him to them.
He held out his hand to Miguel first. �Hey. I�m Sam� Samuel James Witwicky. I was told you�d be coming.�
Miguel shook the kid�s hand, a bit lost. �Who� you knew?�
The teen did not get the chance to reply. A flurry of tiny feet and spastic
yaps diverted the attention of all three humans, alarming them to the fact that
a tiny dog garbed in a pink poncho was rapidly approaching.
�Oh, no, no, no!� Sam cried, pivoting around
the tiny Chihuahua.
The dog danced just out of his reach, making a mockery of the boy. �Bad, Mojo! Get inside!�
�Is that thing wearing a poncho?� Miguel said in disbelief.
Claire was watching the dog thoughtfully, and her mind wandered back to
1997. She couldn�t help it � every time she saw a canine, even a cross-dressing
one, she had flashbacks.
�Uh, yeah, my mom�� Sam said, attempting to explain while dodging for the
dog. �It�s really embarrassing, but she uh�� He faked a quick step to the left,
which shifted the dog to the right. Lunging to the right, Sam snatched up his
errant dog just in the nick of time. The Chihuahua
was panting heavily, and Claire noticed that a collar of diamonds was fastened
around its neck.
Ha, his dog has bling.
Mojo whimpered as if asking for forgiveness now
that he was in Sam�s arms. Sam shifted his hold on the dog, transferring it to the
crook of his left elbow.
�So� your mom dresses your dog up?� Miguel asked awkwardly.
�Uh� yeah.�
�Sorry, man.�
�I�ve gotten used to it, I guess,� Sam sighed. He stroked Mojo absently, then questioned it.
�How did you get out?�
Mojo whined.
�Sam!� A voice rang across the front yard from the house. A balding,
middle-aged man with a portly constitution was occupying the crack in a
partially opened doorjamb. He was scanning the strangers in front of his house,
confused by their presence. �Did you see Mojo? He got
out the back when your mom opened the door to work in the garden.� The man,
presumably Sam�s father, bumbled across the sidewalk and down the driveway
while purposely avoiding the grass. �Who are they?�
Once the older man reached him, Sam handed the deviant dog off. �Uh, just friends.�
Claire felt the man�s eyes on her. �Just friends?
Aren�t they a little old?�
�Hey!� Claire cried, a bit taken aback.
�No, uh, they� went to my school. Three grades ahead of
me. I�m just, uh� preparing for college!� He snapped his fingers in the
air, creating a sharp sound. �Getting tips and all.�
�That�s my boy,� Sam�s father remarked approvingly. He readjusted Mojo against his plaid button-down shirt and held out a
freehand to Miguel. �I�m Ron. Ron Witwicky, Sam�s
dad. Which college are you attending?�
�Uhhhh�.� Miguel blundered. He glanced at Claire
first, seeking aide, but found none. �Uh, I�m� going to MCCC.�
�Mission
City Community
College? I�ve heard of it.� Claire was
next to fall victim to Ron Witwicky�s scrutiny. �What
about you?�
Unlike Miguel, she could at least be partly truthful. �Santa Clara University,�
she answered piously.
The older man�s eyes narrowed. �Isn�t that in California?�
�I�m� on spring break.�
There was another uncertain pause, and Claire had a bad moment when she
feared she would be called on her lie. But, luckily for them all, Sam�s father
was a firm believer in a normal, orderly world. He was one of the vast
majorities of American citizens who wholeheartedly took the government�s
explanation of the events at Mission
City without missing a
beat. He made his own conclusions to the scene unfolding before him, and flowed
with them.
�Oh, so you must be here to visit your boyfriend!� the man exclaimed, motioning
to Miguel in a good-natured manner.
�Uh, actually�� Claire froze, and a rush of heat filled her face. Miguel and herself? Dating?
Miguel also appeared plainly uncomfortable with Ron Witwicky�s
comment. He shifted from one foot to the other, and turned his gaze down the
street, where he wished he could be.
�Yeah, uh, those two crazy kids!� It was Sam. He
was flicking nervous looks between Claire and Miguel, ushering them to play
along.
Claire finally just gave a defeated nod.
Miguel looked back. �Uh, yeah, she�s here to visit me.�
He nodded robustly, �It�s hard to keep together when you attend different
schools, but Sam�s mother and I made it through the exact same predicament. You
guys will be fine.�
Claire blanched. �Thanks.�
�I didn�t catch your names? I�m always interested in Sam�s friends. He
hardly brings any over, except Miles.�
Sam lifted in eyebrow and appeared embarrassed. Claire mused that that was
just one of Ron Witwicky�s powers � subtle
mortification upon all he crossed. �I have lots of friends,� Sam protested.
Ron used his freehand to clap his son on the shoulder. �If
you say so. I just wanted you to know that your mother and I really
thought that girl you brought by was very nice. You should bring her over to
dinner sometime.�
If Sam could dig himself a hole to China, he would have gladly
accepted a shovel.
�Well, I better get back inside before your mother gets even more worried. Nice to meet you two. What did you say your names were?�
�Claire,� the blonde woman answered.
�Miguel,� the dark-haired man seconded.
Mojo growled.
Sam�s father nodded and stroked the dog on the back as if to reassure it.
�Well, like I said, nice to meet you. I�m glad to see some of these friends Sam
claims to have showing up. He really keeps too much to himself.�
�Uh, dad, we�re going to go out for awhile. I have a few questions for them
about� entrance exams and stuff.�
�Sounds good. Call home if you�re going to be
late.� The large man turned away, cradling the Chihuahua in front of him like a football. He
emitted a wave over his shoulder, and then climbed up the driveway. He was
halfway to the front door of his house when he stopped. Curving around, he gave
one last parting shot. �Hey, Sam! Remember to tell
them about the grass.� Satisfied, Ron Witwicky continued
on his way and vanished into the dwelling before him.
�Oh, right,� Sam muttered quietly, �stay off the grass. He gets picky about
that.�
�No problem, man.� Miguel looked like he was going through shell shock. His
voice escaped him meekly, leaving Claire to believe that meeting the teenager�s
father had perhaps been a bit too much at once.
�So, anyways,� Sam said, switching the subject as he rubbed the back of his
head, �I was told you were on your way by the other Autobots.
I haven�t had the time to meet Smokescreen.� He motioned half-heartedly towards
the Subaru. �He recently arrived and was given orders by Optimus
to find you.� Sam�s face was now staring in Claire�s direction.
�Um, that�s all well and good, but who is Optimus?�
�He didn�t tell you?� Sam seemed surprised by this. Smokescreen, for his
part, continued to play the part of a car. He said nothing.
�Optimus is the leader of the Autobots,�
the kid stated proudly.
Miguel was muttering in Spanish to himself. Claire picked up something that sounded
like �No mames g�ey�,
but she could not fathom the meaning. Her Spanish was very poor, even thought
she had grown up surrounded by many ethnicities in the melting pot of the Bay
Area. Upon moving to Nevada,
she was surrounded by even more diversity. She chalked up her lack of Spanish
to keeping to a small, homogenous group of friends in school and then keeping
to herself later.
�They have a leader?� Miguel reverted back to English again. Claire envied
the ease he had in juggling the two languages.
�Do you humans not have leaders?� The voice that cut in on Miguel�s query
was not one that belonged to any human. It was Smokescreen�s. It came from the
curb, where the Subaru had been almost forgotten. Claire mentally chided
herself for forgetting he had been present and listening all along.
Miguel frowned and faced the car. �Hey, I don�t appreciate��
�It was an ignorant assumption.�
If Miguel had any small parcel of thought that he had come to an
understanding with the robot on the drive over, he was wrong. �I don�t like
your attitude, man.� His voice was lowering in pitch, indicating he was getting
testy. �If you got a problem with me��
�Hey, now.� Claire took the opportunity to
interrupt, just as Miguel was clenching his hands into fists. Smokescreen had more
than once gotten on her bad side, but Miguel wouldn�t stand idly by if he were
pushed too far. He was already in a stressful situation, and his temper was
short. He would not think twice about taking a rock to Smokescreen�s window, an
action that in turn would reward him with an instant entrance into the next
world. �Would you guys calm down? Miguel, I know he�s an ass sometimes� but
hey, he did save our lives. Let�s just get through this step-by-step.�
Sam was observing the proceedings with a wary eye. Tension drained from his
shoulders when Claire attempted to mollify the two, and he stepped closer to
drag everyone�s attention to his person. �So� you�re Smokescreen? I�ve heard
about you from the others.�
�None of it good,� Miguel groused, still burned by the Subaru�s barbs.
Claire knocked an elbow back into Miguel�s ribcage and he grimaced.
Smokescreen appeared to take the higher ground and ignored Miguel. �I have
heard about you too, Sam Witwicky. Thank you for your
help against Megatron.�
�Mega-what?� Claire mouthed silently to
Miguel. The entire conversation was flowing like a rapid river over their
heads. Miguel just glowered back at her, displeased with the ache in his side
that she put there.
A sound turned their eyes to the house. The Camaro
roared to life and began to back out of the garage. As the shadows cast by the
house peeled away, the sun lit the bright expanse of the yellow sports car. It
looked very, very expensive.
Holy crap. That kid drives around in that?!
Claire�s mind balked.
Honestly, it put Smokescreen�s Subaru form to shame. If he had still been
disguised as a Datsun, Claire would have not even
bothered comparing the two. The Camaro appeared
brand-new, as if it should be on display on some showroom floor. The Subaru
looked like it was a rally car, meant for speed and work. It was apples and
oranges, but Claire would be damned if her eyes weren�t first drawn to the
sleek red exterior of the apple before they checked out the pebbly surface of
the orange.
Clearly, the Camaro was the apple.
�Wow, where did you get that?�
�From a used car lot, my dad bought it for me. He actually found me,
though.�
�He�?�
�Bumblebee.�
�Oh.� The switch went on in her head, and she scolded herself for being so
slow on the uptake. It was another Autobot, another
one of Smokescreen�s kind. It drove without a driver, and purred as it rolled
backwards out of the driveway. It kept reversing until it came to be parallel
with the humans standing along the side of the street, and then gently ceased
motion entirely.
�Hello,� it said in a cultured voice. Claire blinked. Unlike Smokescreen�s
dry baritone, this new voice provided the Camaro with
an entirely different personality. It was a smooth articulation that seemed
both young and pleasant.
Damn, lucky kid. He got a Who and I got the Grinch.
�Uh, hello,� Claire said, giving a nervous little wave. Did they even see to
the sides while in car form? She had no idea.
�Hey,� Miguel added nervously. His eyes darted anxiously between the Subaru
and the Camaro, unsure of what to make of the talking
cars.
�Well, we�d better get going!� Sam said gaily. He rounded the Camaro, and the door opened for him. �You can follow us,
Smokescreen. I need to stop by and pick up Mikaela
first, though. I hope you don�t mind?�
�Indeed.�
�Oh.� Both of Sam�s eyebrows rose. �You do mind?�
�Are all humans so daft?� The question was meant for Bumblebee. �I meant I
did not mind, of course.�
Bumblebee did not rise to the bait. In fact, he had no interest whatsoever
in engaging in agreement with Smokescreen. �You could be a bit nicer, Smoke.�
�Perhaps I would feel more inclined when the boy becomes a brighter bulb.�
�Smokescreen,� edged the yellow Camaro
dangerously, �shift gears and watch what you say.�
Claire was delighted. She was absolutely, positively delighted. Smokescreen
was being told off by his own kind. He did not seem to take the warnings of
humans into much consideration, but perhaps he would listen to another Autobot.
�Go shove it up your exhaust,� Smokescreen rejoined simply.
Bumblebee revved his engine. He was positioned just ahead of the Subaru, and
used the location to his advantage. Sam had by then clambered inside the Camaro�s cab. As the door slammed shut behind him, the Camaro peeled away.
�I�d rather you smell it first!� laughed the Camaro.
The stench of used gas hit Claire�s nose, marking Bumblebee�s words. A black
cloud of noxious fumes spilled from Bumblebee�s exhaust pipe and into the air
around Smokescreen, truly creating a �smokescreen� so thick around the Subaru
that Claire could barely make him out. Both Miguel and Claire leaped back,
incidentally landing on Ron Witwicky�s perfect
stretch of manicured lawn. A strangled cry erupted through an open window of
the house behind them, and Claire knew they were in trouble.
Grabbing Miguel by the arm, she put her arm against her mouth and pulled her
coworker into Smokescreen via the passenger door. She slammed it behind them,
echoing the sound from the Witwicky�s front door as
Sam�s father came striding out in an angry jaunt.
Smokescreen was furious. �In, in!� he was shouting. �Slaggin� tough-bot.�
His normally correct and arrogant way of speaking had gone to hell. His voice
was laced with impatience, and he was cursing Bumblebee with words Claire had
no earthly lexicon for.
The moment they were inside, several things happened at once. Ron Witwicky was nearly upon them, pumping his fist in rage,
and then Smokescreen peeled away. Miguel and Claire were thrown backwards from
the force of the momentum, causing Claire to squeak in surprise and Miguel to
shower the Subaru with Spanish �pleasantries�.
Still, despite the ruckus, Claire had to hand it to Bumblebee. He had
managed to do something she had not - he had successfully pushed Smokescreen�s
buttons.
She was impressed.

Once out of the residential maze of streets and cul-de-sacs,
the two transformers and their human occupants hit a two-lane highway that
opened up into a more commercial area. Fast food joints lined the streets along
with grocery stores and other shopping venues. Smokescreen had done all in his
power (short of breaking the speed limit too much) to catch up to the Camaro.
Miguel felt like a teenager again. He didn�t particularly like Smokescreen,
but the way he handled on the road was unlike anything he ever knew. The way
the car swerved cleanly around other cars showed the expertise behind the
steering. Like the drive there, he did not know where they were going or what
they were going to do when they got there. The last he heard, they were to pick
up some girl named Mikaela. If he had any intuition
at all, it was the Anglo kid�s girlfriend.
They traveled for about five minutes, and several times the two cars hit
stoplights. They would gun their motors, taunting and goading each other. When
the light turned green, the Camaro and Subaru would
be off like a shot, blowing smoke out their rears and dusting the windshields
of the cars behind them. Claire had her seatbelt on and was clutching the sides
of her seat with a death grip, but Miguel was enjoying himself. The square of
asphalt before each crosswalk they encountered was bequeathed with skid marks,
he was sure of it.
Eventually they pulled into a small trailer court community. The trailers
were shabby and dilapidated, constructed with aluminum and other cheap
materials. Miguel had never lived in a trailer court, but he had had friends
that did. They were nothing new to him. Claire, on the other hand, was looking
around like they had discovered some strange new world.
�This is just getting weirder and weirder,� she stated quietly.
�Yeah,� he said distantly, wondering if she was looking down her nose at the
trailers. Probably.
The screen door to one of the trailers swung aside, and a petite brunette
jogged down a few wooden steps that had been rigged to the side of the dwelling.
The makeshift steps shook, which reverberated down the side of the trailer. She
saw Sam in the yellow Camaro and smiled. After giving
him a small wave, she swept her gaze over to the Subaru beyond the first car. A
frown fell upon her visage, and she crept nearer to the Camaro.
Miguel saw her making a few gestures that were flung in his direction, and he
figured Sam was explaining the situation to the girl.
She was rather pretty, but she didn�t have enough meat on her bones to rouse
any attraction in him. After much back and forth, the girl climbed into the
Bumblebee creature and they were on their way once more.

They pulled out of town, back into the open desert, but they
didn�t go far. The cars began to ascend into the painted mountains, to a point that
overlooked the sprawling city below. The road they took was narrow, and seemed
seldom used. Crags and boulders whizzed by, and soon the climb tapered off
enough that they rolled onto relatively level ground. The two cars rolled to a
stop, and that�s when Miguel�s mouth ran dry.
Through the windshield, he could make out other vehicles. The dust kicked up
by their rides was just beginning to settle � they were no longer on a paved
road. The first one that took his attention was a yellow hummer. The second was
a dark GMC truck, and the last� why hadn�t he noticed
it first?
It was a blue-on-red semi-truck with painted flames blazing across its sides.
Even more noticeable was its size � it was enormous. All three vehicles faced
the new arrivals, completely immobile. Miguel began to feel his heart
accelerate, and he stole a glance over to Claire. Her lips were half-parted,
and her hands had folded over themselves in her lap. She seemed engrossed by
the view in front of her, and only snapped out of her stupor when he shook her
shoulder.
His coworker gave him a startled acknowledgment, and then swallowed slowly.
The sound of grinding gears stole their attention away from one another.
Both of Smokescreen�s doors opened, and Miguel and Claire reluctantly took the
cue to exit the car. As they did so, their eyes saw what their minds could not
believe.
The sibilant slide of metal on metal resonated through the air. Both Claire
and Miguel had their mouths open, jaws slack, and were so wrapped up in the
moment that they hadn�t noticed Sam and Mikaela were
also standing nearby.
The three vehicles ahead shifted, twisted,and inverted in ways Miguel�s mind could not
follow. It was like watching knots come loose on their own,
following a route only they knew to take in order to come away undone.
They fell away from a form, temporarily lost one, and then reformed. They
stretched upward, moving ever towards the skies.
Claire gasped.
Miguel started shivering, a fine tremor that started in his fingertips and
streaked through his entire body. It was so unlike him, so unfitting, but he
was helpless to stop it. The vehicles were no longer that � they were
mechanical monsters that towered above the four humans. Behind them, vents
hissed and the resounding clamor of metallic elements groaning under a great
weight got their attention.
Claire was the first to wheel around, and skittered backwards several steps
when she saw that Smokescreen and Bumblebee had transformed too.
They were surrounded. Miguel�s mind flashed back to the memory of the bartender
and his rifle, standing so bravely on the ruined foundation of his livelihood
while El Diablo leered overhead. It was the epic of David and Goliath
all over again. The contrast between the sizes he saw in his mind�s eye filled
him with a fear incomparable to anything he had ever experienced. He was now
the bartender, standing on a remote speck of land while a circle of alien
leviathans penned him in and advanced closer.
�And he didn�t even have a weapon.

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. All recognizable
characters are the property of HasTak. All original
characters are mine.
A/N:Wow,
40,000 words with this insertion. Yikes! I was also very, very touched! So many
people gave me feedback for that last chapter. I really love getting it, so I
want to thank each one of you!
Marigold: I�m really glad
that I can make your day (or anyone�s day), so that was so cool to hear! I�m like you � I only got hooked after seeing
the movie. The fact that there are possibly
two more movies to come (next one in June 2009) will only make this fandom grow
even larger. It�s kind of exciting! I�m doing this from the perspective of
humans, so it�s kind of like if you, myself, or any
one of us got caught up in �meeting the Transformers�. I guess I ask myself how I would react. I didn�t want guys to feel left out, so I
added Miguel. He�s kind of the male
perspective on things while Claire is the female perspective. Thank you so much for your review, it makes my day!
Timberwolf: You�ve
been great, thanks for the awesome reviews.
I love coming online and seeing if people are giving me feedback on the
story, so I am really glad you like it.
You humble me and inspire me, thank you!
Miguel�s Translations:
No mames g�ey:
�You�re shitting me, holy fuck.�
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The Human Stain