[Audio]

[poemssometimesrhyme]

Well, this is just perfect. I'm just beginning to get settled on my Cybertron, and I end up here, on some barely formed rock, hearing some story about the "first-forged."

... Well, it could be worse, I suppose. And it's not much different from the planet I found when I... came back, I suppose.

Salutations. My name is Sky-Byte. I am a storyteller. A poet. An entertainer, if you will. And I suppose if I'm stuck here, I might as well make the best of it, eh?

Now.

Is there a bar anywhere abouts? Because I need a stiff drink right about now.

Comments

[my_own_trope]

Let's hope it isn't one of your stanzas or I might never be clean.

[poemssometimesrhyme]

...

Is that supposed to be an insult? It barely makes sense.

[my_own_trope]

It's a metaphor.

And you call yourself a poet. [ALL THE DERISION]

[poemssometimesrhyme]

Metaphors are still based on some kind of logical association, you peon.

[my_own_trope]

The association here is that your poems are no doubt scrap. And a 'peon'?! Just who do you think you are calling me that? What makes YOU so high and mighty?