- It's tricky.
It took me months before I--
oh. - Nice! [laughs]
Hey, how are your Autobot friends?
Still dealing with that angry microbe thingy?
- No, they're in the clear.
That's sweet of you to ask.
- Of course.
Now the paper football championship
of the universe on the line.
Ah! The crowd goes wild!
The California Izzies beat the Witwicky Robbies.
Keep practicing, kid.
You'll get it.
[exciting music]
* *
- Oh!
[record scratches]
- Whoa. Uh, hey, Twitch. What's up?
- Nothing at all, just like the nothing I didn't just see.
But also, I came to grab Robby for an Autobot meeting.
- A meeting? But Izzy and I are--
- Don't be silly. I'm fine.
You should go.
We got the whole weekend to hang.
Call me when you're done.
- Not good! - Whoa!
- [yells] [clanking, clattering]
- Ah.
- My legs have become a happy gelatin.
- I think Robby just got smooched by Izzy.
- [laughs] Cool.
I feel like I'm floating on a cloud of birthday balloons
that have been blown up by puppies.
- Earth to Robby. Come in, Robby.
- Oh, right. The meeting.
We should go.
But if you don't mind,
no need to tell anybody else about the kiss.
- Trust me. They already know.
- [groans]
[transforming pulses]
[electricity crackling]
- I fear the Hate Plague was employed as a weapon
against the Autobots.
- With the Cons gone, Optimus,
who do you think is behind this?
- So you and Izzy?
Spill the deets.
- There's nothing to spill.
- Puh-lease!
We all felt that kiss. So dish.
Was there eye contact? Lip contact?
Is there a wedding date?
- It was just a kiss!
Sorry! See, there's this girl, but--
- Go on, Robby.
Is this a matter we could help you with?
- Prime, clearly, the boy does not want
to discuss his girlfriend.
- She's not my girlfriend. She's just a friend.
- Yeah, a friend who makes our knees go all wobbly.
- Back to the matter at hand, then.
The microbes' origin. Prowl?
- Terran Nightshade discovered the Malto-bots
and Organics cannot contract it but can be carriers.
And they determined Bumblebee was the first Bot
to show symptoms.
- What can I say? I'm a trendsetter.
- I plan to retrace Bumblebee's steps.
Terran Thrash, due to your dogged pursuit
of the kissing facts, I'd like you on my team.
Now, Bee. What do you recall?
- It's all a little foggy.
Except...
- Except for what?
- I got into a fight with Megatron.
I remember it happened here.
I drove in, and then I remember Megs being all up in my face.
- Abject slander.
This is absurd.
- Says the lifelong Decepticon, with megacycles of motive.
- I thought we were past this, Prowl.
Clearly, you're incapable of growth.
- All right, let's cool our radiators.
- You're teammates now. Act like it.
The enemy's out there, not in here.
- Unless he is in here.
Exhibit one, Megatron.
You were the last Bot with Bee
before he went all punchy-punchy.
Exhibit two, you sometimes scare me.
Three, when you got a case of the angries,
it was hard to tell, 'cause exhibit two,
you sometimes scare me.
So what do you have to say?
- I say, back away before you regret this line of inquiry.
- Duly noted. The suspect is free to go.
- For the record, it was Bumblebee
who entered with hostility.
- Ah.
- I don't like your tone.
Eat beryllium baloney!
[yells, grunts]
I was wondering where I got that goose egg from.
- Bumblebee already had symptoms, so Megatron
could not be the origin.
- [whispering] I always knew you were innocent.
- [sighs] There goes that lead.
What did you do before you ran into Megatron?
- I was cruising around down here,
but that's all I remember.
Wait a sec.
That car, it followed me yesterday,
and it knocked me off the road.
- That contact could have planted the virus on you.
I smell a suspect.
Those tinted windows seem a little shady.
[engine revving]
[tires screeching]
- I can't make out who's driving.
- They are determined to evade capture.
[dramatic music]
- End of the road.
* *
all: Schloder?
- Apologies, friends, and unknown Cybertronian.
I spilled my coffee and my flailing
led to imperfect steering.
Now, state the purpose of this confab.
- We wanna know why you're tailing us.
- And maybe find out why a muscle car lover
owns such a non-muscle car.
- Forgive them for their ignorance.
The XJ-72 is peerless on the road,
and her fuel efficiency will save me
Grants, Benjamins, and McKinleys,
should I obtain a family someday.
- Tell us of yesterday's altercation.
- Ah, yes. The details are as such.
On leave from my North Pole outpost,
I was picking up some aged Germanic cheese
when Bee nearly hit my XJ-72.
Concerned, I followed and witnessed him perpetrate
three acts of road rage.
I lost him when a school bus blocked my path.
- Yeah.
Yeah, it's coming back to me.
And he's right. I came in revved up.
- Plus, the tiny car never even touched Bee.
The officious Organic can go.
- Ugh. Another non-lead.
Where next, Bee?
- Before downtown, I was at the farm with Alex,
and JB, too, I think.
- Hey, guys, solve the mystery yet?
- What were your dealings with Bumblebee before the outbreak?
- Mm...
you got me! I did it.
I don't know how, but I must have done it.
I'm always ruining things.
The skate ramp, Mom's tap shoes,
Dad's wrestling singlet, Mo's--
- JB, we don't seriously think you--
- Ah-bup-bup, let him finish.
I wanna know if he's the one who broke my bowling ball.
- You are not a suspect, Stygi-Terran.
- Oh, thank Primus.
And I promise I'll never ruin anything ever again.
[air hisses]
- Kids and Prowl.
Sir, it is an honor.
- What kind of earthly magic do you conjure
with those Autobot effigies?
- No, see, I'm a professor.
I study all things Cybertronian.
Like I know you are Optimus' best friend
and most trusted strategist.
And one time, Scavenger really fried your circuits.
[grunts] Wow!
You yanked me out even faster than Bee
did yesterday when I asked him to sign my new action figure.
- So Bumblebee was already belligerent?
Another dead end.
Investigative team, we need to regroup.
- Um, can you let me down first?
- The game's afoot.
So many suspects.
Cosmos?
A carnival ride turned supervillain
from one too many gums on the floor?
Fluffy Ears?
In cahoots with Energon Bear, possibly?
Then we come back to JB.
Lovable, clumsy JB, who is clearly the guilty party
that broke my bowling ball!
- I thought this board was about the Hate Plague!
- Fine.
- Bee, do you recall anything else?
- Nothing, except for mine and Robby's weekly
arm wrestling match.
- Arm-to-arm combat could have transferred the microbe.
- Bee was acting normal during it, I guess.
But you don't think I--
- While everyone is a suspect,
you are no enemy of the Autobots.
But an enemy could exploit your proximity to us.
- What were you up to earlier, bro, if that's even your name?
- Um, except for Izzy dropping off
one of my baseball caps, not much.
- Izzy, is she the cheek kisser?
- This old thing? It's just another dead end.
- Trust me.
I'm Witwicky's top Terran detective.
- You are no detective.
You are nothing but a dilettante.
[all gasp]
[tense music]
* *
- There's Hate Plague on the hat.
- Out of my way!
My true ire is for Bumblebee.
- Don't let him touch Bee!
The Hate Plague will start all over again.
- A supposed top scout who has led me into countless ambushes.
[grunts]
- Thrash for the save.
- Nothing will keep me from ripping you to shreds.
- Get out of here, Bee. You can't get infected again.
- [yells] - Look out! [grunts]
- Thanks, Thrash.
- All in a day's work.
- I'll go warn the others.
- Great--now we just need to keep him in here
until the first winter storm comes to cool down the virus.
- No need to wait until the solstice.
I saw on the monitors you needed me.
- [groans]
- A little something I whipped up
after we discovered the microbe needs to be cooled--
the Smart Trainer 5009,
AKA the Hate Extinguisher.
- Well done.
Your device stopped a potential outbreak.
- And to be safe, Bee's keeping the others secured at HQ
so none of them get near any active microbes.
- [grunts]
- A double tap, just to be sure.
- Ugh. Can we get back to figuring out
who's behind the bioweapon?
- Sounds like someone's itching to get back
for another Izzy kiss. Mm.
- That's not the reason, entirely.
- The viral load found on this hat is of the highest volume.
- A hat returned by this Izzy.
- What are you implying? - A detective implies nothing.
A detective merely states facts.
- She's a teenage girl.
She doesn't have beef with the Autobots.
[beeping]
[suspenseful music]
* *
- And voilà.
The device is now calibrated to track the microbe's
biosignature to its source.
- Their biosignature just signed
their own arrest warrant.
- Let's go get this diabolical,
yet hopefully easy to detain culprit.
[engine revving]
Why didn't I scan something with better shock absorbers?
- I can't believe you think Izzy is a suspect, Prowl.
- I appreciate your loyalty, but romantic entanglements
have hobbled many a soldier.
Ask Optimus.
- Affirmative.
With phase one of the plan over,
I will shift to phase two and secure the prime targets
for your questioning.
- [growls]
- A Quintesson!
They are behind the bioweapon attack!
- Oh, man, that pod's like the one at the ruins.
- [roaring]
- Do not let them escape!
- Hammer time, Thrash.
- [yells]
- Going somewhere?
* *
- What the what?
- A Quintesson shape-shifter?
No one has ever witnessed such a being.
- Less shock and awe, more raccoon wrangling.
- I got it. I know this is the one.
Or not. [splutters]
Pro tip. Avoid the slobbery ones.
- I'm pretty sure it's this one.
- No slobbering. That's a good sign.
[bird tweeting]
- Whoa, they didn't even do that eye thingy this time.
- Perhaps they have a memory bank of beings
it has already photo-cloned.
- [grunts] This bird looks just like the ones
always hanging around our house.
* *
- I winged it. It cannot stay aloft.
- Are you guys not seeing what I'm not seeing?
[indistinct chatter]
- It probably shape-shifted.
Fan out. Look for anything suspicious.
* *
- Uh, Schloder!
Have you seen anything peculiar?
- I find many things peculiar--
Jacuzzis, jazz, dragon fruit.
Of which peculiarity do you speak?
- A bird that might have shape-shifted into a person.
- Negative.
But I did see a small kerfuffle between a woman
and a bird about a block back that way.
- Sweet.
- What, what, what?
Hey, Quintesson?
Robby, Prowl! I found them!
- Wait, is that--
give me a second.
Izzy?
- Hey, Robby.
- You gotta jet. There's a creepy alien around.
It's not safe. - Easy.
It could be the shape-shifter.
- Enough already. There's no way.
Wait, you're right.
So Izzy, what are you doing at the school on a weekend?
- I forgot my math book.
- That makes sense.
Hey, what's my favorite funnel cake topping?
- Sardines, duh.
What is going on?
- I knew it was you.
Everything's gonna be okay.
But you should go home.
- Sure.
- What about your math book?
- Oh, right. Duh. I'll grab it later.
- Back off, Prowl.
This is the real Izzy, and she's got nothing
to do with any of this.
- Certainly.
I did not mean to alarm you, miss.
No hard feelings.
Freeze.
- [gasps]
- Ooh, green goo.
Is that like a California thing?
- No, it is a Quintesson thing.
- That's not possible.
What is happening? What is that stuff?
- The truth is right in front of you.
- No, no, no. I know what you're implying.
- There are no implications.
There are only facts.
- It's not possible.
Izzy, you're the only one who knows about the sardines.
So if you know about that,
that means you were the one at the fair that day.
Which means you're the real Izzy and...
You're really a Quintesson.
- Why?
Why did you do it?
- Back away and let me go.
- I assure you that is not happening.
- [grunting]
[dramatic music]
- Not so fast, Shifty McShape-shifter.
[grunting]
- [growling]
- You are coming with us.
[grunting]
- Go ahead. Try to get past me.
I'm hip to all your moves.
Okay, that's a new one.
- How could you lie to me like that?
For months?
Who does that?
- Snap out of it, Malto. We need you.
- Three on one is not a fair fight.
That is better.
- By the Allspark!
- Allow me to leave and no harm will come to you.
- Get back here. We're not done yet.
* *
You're not going anywhere.
- Don't worry. I'll get him, Robby.
- [grunts, groans]
- You may have fancy powers, but you forgot one thing.
I'm Thrash, baby.
- And I can be anyone.
- No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
I can't fight my brother.
- Good, cause I don't wanna have to break you.
- Break me?
Wait a second.
It was you who broke my bowling ball!
The real Jawbreaker may be clumsy, but he's not heartless.
You are. Ha-ha!
Yes, Detective Thrash solves a case.
- Out of the way, Terran.
- So you photo-clone everyone
in case you wanna pose as them later?
I think I'm starting to see the real you now.
You're just a liar.
You lie about anything to anyone.
- I know you don't mean that,
not after everything we've been through.
- Stop it. - Stop what?
Hey, are you up for another game of paper football?
Except on a real field this time.
- Ugh, stop it!
- I just wanna leave. That's all.
I don't wanna use this, but I will if I have to.
* *
[grunts]
- How can you be so cruel and heartless?
- Don't take it personally.
- Don't take it personally?
I brought you into my home.
I let you hang with my family.
I cared about you.
And what do you do?
You infect my friends with a space plague
and try to kill them.
What kind of monster does that?
Why?
- Because you have a gift from Quintus Prime, your sleeve.
But this gift does not belong to you.
It belongs to the Quintessons.
You are top priority for my boss.
- So what are your plans for me and my sister?
- My boss makes the plans.
My job was merely to track the keepers of the Quintus powers.
- All right. Save it for Optimus.
We are done here.
* *
- Any being who likes funnel cake
can't be all that bad, right?
- You broke my heart, Izzy, or whatever your name is.
I'm sorry it has to end this way.
- This is not the end, Robby.
This is only the beginning.
[dramatic electronic music]
* *