[Now that's the way to do it. Wheeljack reaches behind himself, unhitching the two blades from the sheaths inside his back plating, twirling them. He liked to show off, what could he say.]
On your mark, old man.
[That faceplate slides over his mouth, eyes narrowing.]
no subject
On your mark, old man.
[That faceplate slides over his mouth, eyes narrowing.]