Oh, God. Oh, God, please not again.

A smattering of glittery pink hearts. Smiley faces bouncing merrily about. Frigging daisies.

And the crowing effect: a giant rainbow plastered across Bumblebee’s hood.

“Sorry, buddy,” Sam said sheepishly, heading back into the house for the same argument he’d had three times this week.

“Mom! I told you! Stop putting girl decals on a boy car!”

Judy Witwicky beamed at him.

“But honey, it’s his bling!”

There was an Autobot standing in the flowers again.

Judy Witwicky stood at the kitchen window and glared at the massive mechanical form that was currently crushing her peonies. The darned things had stubbornly refused to bloom for three years, and this year had finally produced beautiful ruffled pink and white flowers. And now yet another Autobot coming to see Sam had ruined them.

Enough was enough. Optimus Prime had at least had manners enough to apologize for the roses under Sam’s bedroom window, and Ratchet hadn’t meant to fall on the greenhouse. Judy had been willing to give them a little leeway. After all, it had been their first night on a new planet, and they hadn’t quite figured out how to maneuver around human dwellings without damaging things.

But they’d been here nearly a year now, and it seemed that every time a new Autobot showed up, another section of the garden was destroyed. You’d think that one of the original group would have told them to watch their feet. Well, if Optimus wasn’t up to the task, than Judy Witwicky was more than capable of scaring some manners into them.

She eyed her weapons and decided on the broom. Last time she’d used the frying pan on a big yellow Autobot standing on her begonias, and scratched his paint. The resulting ruckus had ended with a hole in the roof and Judy didn’t particularly want to have to repair her house again. The broom would get the point across without damaging anything other than some egos.

Besides, brooms were the traditional means of getting rid of pests, weren’t they?