Heres looking at you, kid.
For a transcript, send $1 to Merkle Press.
This concludes our broadcast day.
We will return to the air, at 6 A.M.
Analysis?
These Junkions regard their accumulated refuse as their native soil,
and defend it as such.
The primitive television transmissions from Earth constitue their entire culture.
Then recovering the journal would be more difficult than we'd imagined.
Yes, we must attack by more subtle means.
They found it! They found the journal!
Sharkticons, return to the ship immediately! Return to the ship!
Live from New York—
- its, your hit parade!
It slices It dices!
Say goodnight, Gracie.
Oh, Cisco.
Oh, Pancho!
Sky Lynx to Cybertron!
Reading you, Sky lynx. This is Rodimus Prime. Where are you?
In the Junkion sector.
Great sizzling stars!
Hot plasma, Autobot!
Sorry, chap! Not hungry!
All right! The gloves are off!
Can that be Junkion?
Fly somebody else's friendly skies!
And thats the name of that tune!
The new hypergenerator will restore power to the entire seventh grid sector.
Hmm?
I know you're bored, Rodimus, but with the mantle of leadership comes obligations.
Mmm. Don't suppose I could interest you in a used mantle?
Rodimus! Ultra Magnus!
Sky Lynx. We lost your transmission earlier. What happened?
Something very, very odd.
Perhaps the Junkions mistook Sky Lynx for another Decepticon.
Possible, but not likely.
Send the Aerialbots to scope out the situation.
Ace job, Sky Lynx.
I have something strange to report , Galvatron.
Fool! Gah! You think I care?
Mighty one, if the Junkions have turned against the Autobots, perhaps—
Cyclonus, I still would not care.
Leave me, both of you, while you still can!
Progress Report.
The Earth programs reinforced by our subliminals
are teaching the Junkions an intense distrust of all other life forms.
And instilling the principles of neatness and organization.
Cloudiness is bad... cleanliness is good...
cloudiness is bad... cleanliness is good...
Thank you veddy much!
Your mission, should you decide to accept it, is to put this in the tube pile.
Right chief.
And don't call me chief!
Sorry, about that chief.
The journal! They've uncovered it already!
Initiate camouflage.
Remember, the Junkions now mistrust all other life forms, ourselves included.
We don't want to let them know we're coming - yet.
Silverbolt to Cybertron. Aerialbots approaching Junkion.
Nothing unusual so far.
Nothing period! Just a big cosmic dust cloud!
Autobots!
Stop them quickly before they penetrate our camouflage!
Warning, Will Robinson! Danger! Danger!
Finish them!
Aerialbots, Together! Form Sup-aaahhh!
Jeepers, Mr. Kent. Where did they go?
Open fire!
This change is formidable! Activate Pressor field!
He's overloading all our systems! We'll be left defenseless!
Superion to Cybertron. Mayday!
Life support functional.
Weapon system: charred beyond recognition!
Initiate strategic withdrawal!
A Quintesson ship.
Something very peculiar is happening here.
I want a closer look at Junkion.
I pity the fool who messes with us! Let's consume mass quantities of TV!
Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird, its a plane, it's—
Great Caesar's ghost!
Missed me by that much!
Lassie!
I'm back and I'm beautiful!
Baby, you're the greatest!
Jump quick! Arms up! Kick high! Be a winner - two, three, four!
I'm a winner! I'm a winner!
I believe in me!
I now know what i need to know.
Break off and return to Chaar.
Will he be alright?
Well, there seems to be no permanent damage.
Thanks the Matrix.
Star ship hidden in cloud...
Quintessons...
Quintessons! What do you suppose they're after?
Lets not suppose, lets find out!
And this is combination granny-and-attack dogbot
can be yours if you name that price!
To care is to share. To care is to share.
Care? Share?
Share? Where did that come from?
The explosion damaged the subliminal message inducter.
We've been sending the wrong message ever since!
Mrs. Peel, we're needed.
Our five year mission: to boldly share our signal with all the sloppy lifeforms,
who are our enemies.
There is nothing wrong with your television set.
We are controlling transmission. We control the horizontal.
We control the vertical.
We've got the touch!
Status Report.
The Junkion's omni-directional relay is reaching nearly every corner of the galaxy.
We are still unable to cut off the field or the subliminals.
Analysis?
Precisely what one might expect.
Regard the situation developing on Delta Pavonis IV.
And now, another exciting adventure of Space Age Jack!
Lets get those lousy reptiles once and for all!
Yo Jack!
All other lifeforms are your enemy!
Your enemy!
Our enemy!
A similar situation is developing on the green moon of Antaar.
Your enemies! Your enemies!
And on Cygnus VII, the earth embassy is being attacked.
Stop! Ya'll can't do this!
We may be witnessing the beginning of an interstellar Dark Age!
We could turn this tide of barbarism to our advantage.
Perhaps by supplying arms and materials to the various forces.
Unless, of course, the journal, were to be discovered by one of these armies.
Correct. The journal must remain our primary objectiv.
I am convinced, mighty Galvatron,
that the Junkions have been reprogrammed somehow.
If they could be set against the Autobots—
I have said have I not, that the Junkions are of no interest to me?
Yes, mighty one.
Then why do you continue to bother me about them?
Your pardon, Galvatron. It won't happen again.
See that it doesn't.
He hasn't changed his mind?
No. Summon the Sweeps.
The Decepticons cannot afford to miss this opportunity.
Turn that off, Blaster. I can't hear myself compute!
Some robots just don't dig the good stuff!
How long before we reach Junkion?
Still two sectors to cross, but—
Omega Supreme! You blown a gasket or are we under attack?
Confirmed.
Imminent.
Terminated.
Here they come!
Destroy them! We must reach Junkion first!
We're outgunned, man! We don't have a chance!
Boy, that's what makes life interesting.
Or over!
The Junkion signal is reaching across the galaxy! War rages everywhere!
And the interstellar armies are converging on Junkion, to the broadcast source.
Increasing geometrically,
a likelihood that someone other than ourselves will find the journal!
That cannot be permitted! We must find it first!
Whats the story on Omega Supreme?
I think I can get him operational again,
barely, if there are no more interruptions.
Draw them away from Omega Supreme.
I was just gonna, son.
Let's go!
Take the other Autobot. I want Rodimus Prime!
Good shot, Rodimus.
Come on, come on!
Good timing, big guy!
Attack averted.
Another time, Autobots.
On to Junkion?
You got it!
Cyclonus! It's Galvatron!
Mighty Galvatron, where are you going?
To the signal. To be a winner! Because I believe in me!
Isn't that what Wreck-Gar said?
He's headed for, Junkion.
Looking good! No more waxy yellow buildup.
Laser wars! Nothing but laser wars!
It appears we are too late!
No, we can use the battle as a cover while we search for the jounal.
Sighted.
It's a war! And it looks like half the galaxy's involved!
Whatever happened to the good old uninvolved galaxy I used to know?
Uh-oh. Guess who joined the party?
Take us in for a landing!
The Autobots. Here! This is indeed the promised land!
A scrapyard. What an appropriate place for you to meet your end, Rodimus Prime.
You're the one who'll be junked, Galvatron!
There! The Journal!
Farewell, Rodimus Prime.
If we knew what was causing this insanity, maybe we could stop it.
Great minds think on the same lines!
My sensors say, that antenna is blowing a hypnotic bop from space!
Can you counteract it?
Maybe soothing strains will ease the pain!
Hey, dude, i need altitude!
He's your enemy!
Ward, I think we've been a little rough on the Beaver.
The television. It bewitched me!
However, that doesn't mean, I don't really hate you, Rodimus. I do!
Go ahead... make my day.
Do you think I fear these rattletrap robots? I do not!
There are too many of them. Too many!
Substantial penalty for early withdrawal.
Nice job, Blaster. But don't ever play that easy listening stuff again!
Wreck-Gar, what happened?
I dunno! I wuz a victim of soicumstance!
Wonder if we'll ever know who broadcast those mysterious programs?
Personally, I don't care as long as they're off the air for good.
Did you recover the journal?
No. It was lost in space.
Now prepare to pay the penalty.
Death!
I will be happy to oblige you,
but first, we find the journal,
before the information in it sets everyone in the galaxy against us!