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Jul. 9th, 2006 07:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seiberwingSo, my spoiler-free review of "Dead Man's Chest". The movie is made of condensed squee, happiness, sexiness, various incidents of tentacle sex potential, and not much closure. Stay after the credits for the special ending!
Galvatron dreamed.
As in most of Galvatron’s dreams, there was a good bit of violence and a great bit of insanity. Fires crackled around him, burning his enemies. Bugs crawled across the night sky as if it were merely walls and ceiling, and twisted shapes of mechs were chanting his name. A strange mech was impaled and on fire, switching between Ultra Magnus and Optimus Prime whenever the fancy took it. And Galvatron stood over the carnage on the corpse of Unicron, laughing at a universe that was as mad as he was.
Cyclonus dreamed.
All worlds knelt before Galvatron, somehow able to do so without the benefit of actual knees. The Decepticons prospered, reveling in the wealth of a thousand times more energon than they could drink in a lifetime, and treachery was a thing of the past. Rodimus Prime sat happily on the ground, the iron collar around his neck chained to a raised dais engraved with images of Galvatron’s victories. On the top of the dais lay Cyclonus, offering himself up to the tyrant who towered above him. Galvatron roared with pleasure and victory and Cyclonus praised his greatness with his voice and his body, showing his devotion before the whole universe.
Scourge dreamed.
The room was filled with Decepticons, Galvatron presiding over the momentous event. Cyclonus and Scourge stood in the middle of the crowd, facing each other with faint smiles on their faces. They clasped their right hands and held them high for all to see, shouting “Mine” with one voice and sealing their union under Decepticon law. Cyclonus gently pulled him close and pressed Scourge’s lips to his own, his optics promising devotion only to Scourge, and no other before him. And the Decepticons began to cheer as Scourge deeply kissed his new bondmate.
Galvatron dreamed.
As in most of Galvatron’s dreams, there was a good bit of violence and a great bit of insanity. Fires crackled around him, burning his enemies. Bugs crawled across the night sky as if it were merely walls and ceiling, and twisted shapes of mechs were chanting his name. A strange mech was impaled and on fire, switching between Ultra Magnus and Optimus Prime whenever the fancy took it. And Galvatron stood over the carnage on the corpse of Unicron, laughing at a universe that was as mad as he was.
Cyclonus dreamed.
All worlds knelt before Galvatron, somehow able to do so without the benefit of actual knees. The Decepticons prospered, reveling in the wealth of a thousand times more energon than they could drink in a lifetime, and treachery was a thing of the past. Rodimus Prime sat happily on the ground, the iron collar around his neck chained to a raised dais engraved with images of Galvatron’s victories. On the top of the dais lay Cyclonus, offering himself up to the tyrant who towered above him. Galvatron roared with pleasure and victory and Cyclonus praised his greatness with his voice and his body, showing his devotion before the whole universe.
Scourge dreamed.
The room was filled with Decepticons, Galvatron presiding over the momentous event. Cyclonus and Scourge stood in the middle of the crowd, facing each other with faint smiles on their faces. They clasped their right hands and held them high for all to see, shouting “Mine” with one voice and sealing their union under Decepticon law. Cyclonus gently pulled him close and pressed Scourge’s lips to his own, his optics promising devotion only to Scourge, and no other before him. And the Decepticons began to cheer as Scourge deeply kissed his new bondmate.
