[Oh hey, it's Ironhide. And the feed is... slightly askew, given that he's holding it in one hand, while the other, off-screen, is occupied.]
[... occupied holding a familiar cop-car robot slung over his shoulder.]
So... uh. Any medics here been seein' Prowl come in lately?
[He sounds remarkably calm about this, even though his expression is scowling, concerned. He shifts the unconscious weight on his shoulder.]
And no, I didn't do nothing. We were havin' a drink and he just... conked out. Don't think he even had half of one.
Where'm I taking him?
[IS THERE A DOCTOR AROUND? Because despite his words, he's actually a little worried right now.] | |
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