Usually requires a baby.
But not this time.
"Oh no. Hell no. Not even if you paid me."
Bumblebee whined, crouching low so I could see what he cradled.
"No. No. It's cute, but it's not a baby. I don't babysit anyways. Take it back." I crossed my arms over my chest. "And that's final."
The Camaro whined again, his radio sputtering then bursting into life. "Why don't you love me? Tell me, baby, why don't you love me
"No no, don't pin this on me. I love you. I just don't love the little scrap pile there." I waved at what he was holding, frowning when it's head lifted with a chirp. "To baby sit, you need a baby. That is, in face, a sparkling. I do not take care of sparklings while their giant robot daddies are off on a date. Giant robots don't go on dates, I do not take care of sparklings.
"But all you are is mean. All you are is mean and a liar and pathetic and alone in life and mean, and mean, and mean, and mean
"Don't go spouting Taylor Swift at m