"Blow it out your exhaust port, Decepticreep, "he retorted, snatching up his fork so that he'd have something to keep his hands busy with- something told Depth Charge that Lockdown would be getting pretty close and personal with his fist if he didn't.

The initial flush of anger behind him, he managed to even out his tone just enough to keep himself from being sedated. Slowly, he met the 'con's eyes with a steely coldness. "I don't have to take this slag. Why the Pit do you care so much, anyway?"