anwhile, in a Police Station, the fluorescent lights of the interrogation room. Sam Witwicky sat hunched over the tal table. His hands were cuffed. He thought it had been a hell of a week.
He looked up at the two officers standing in front of him. The older one leaned in and tapped his pen on a legal pad. "Alright, kid. Let's try this one more ti. You were found trespassing in a restricted junkyard and screaming about 'giant robots' and 'alien signals.' What actually happened?" he asked.
“You better tell us the truth,” the second officer said as she stared at Sam.
Sam blinked. He thought back to his week and how this all started.
Sam and his father, Ron, pulled into the lot. "Look, Sam, four thousand dollars doesn't buy you a Ferrari," Ron joked as he gestured toward a row of rusted sedans. "It buys you sothing that might get you to school if the wind is blowing in the right direction," he laughed.
"I just want sothing with personality, Dad," Sam shot back as he looked around.
“Then let's see what we can get,” Ron replied as they both walked around.
“Where is that beauty?” Ron questioned as he looked at old and rusty cars. “Is she the one?” Ron asked as he pointed to a car with no wheels.
Sam ignored him. He looked sound until he saw a beat-up, 1977 yellow Camaro. It was tucked in the back. It had aggressive racing stripes.
"This is the one," Sam said.
Ron walked around it and kicked a tire. "It looks like a yellow hornet that’s been stepped on,” he said. “The dealer looks a little enthusiastic to get rid of it," he added.
"I'll take it," Sam said. They did the paper work and shaked hands.
Sam got in the car. He released the clutch and pressed the accelerator. They left the parking lot. He looked in the rear view and smiled. He thought this was a rust bucket however it was his first car. He turned the steering wheel and pressed the accelerator down. Then the engine let out a wet hack and started to hiss. It died right in the middle of a busy intersection.
"Co on, don't do this to , Not now!" Sam hissed as he frantically turned the key while banging on the dashboard.
Ron pulled up alongside him in the family car and laughed. He rolled down the window. "Great personality, Sam. Does it co with a walking stick?" he asked.
Sam eventually managed to coast the heavy tal beast into his driveway. He was putting all his strength into the steering. He eventually got ho and parked the car. He sighed. “I have to get this looked into,” he remarked as he left the car and headed to bed. He got to bed and dropped down.
Sam was sleeping when he heard the sound of an engine. Sam bolted upright. He headed to the window and saw the Camaro’s engine revving on its own. The car backed out of the driveway with its headlights off.
"Hey, No, no, no,” Sam scrambled for his pants. He quickly wore them and bolted down the stairs and outside. He grabbed his bike and pedaled forward.
Sam chased the yellow vehicle through the winding suburban streets. “Stop,” he shouted as he cycled down the road. He was moving his legs faster and faster. He peddled down. He saw the yellow Camaro turn into a sprawling, rusted-out junkyard.
Sam followed behind. “You are not getting away,” he said as he turned the corner. Sam then hit a large rock and fell down. He looked up. Sam ditched his bike and ran forward. He looked around for his car. “Where did you go?” he asked out loud.
He then looked up to see a towering, sixteen-foot yellow robot. soldier. His chest had a split grille and headlights of the Camaro. His limbs were a complex web of hydraulic pistons and carbon-fiber cable. He had a chanical mask. His eyes were vibrant, sapphire-blue optical. He had retractable stingers which housed within his forearms. The robot climbed up a tower. He opened his chest and a bright, blue beam shot out.
"Oh my god," Sam whispered as he fumbled for his phone. "I can't believe this,” he said. He hit the record button and started to capture the monster. “This is unbelievable," he said as he moved the phone up and down.
“Woof Woof,” a dog barked.
Sam then looked to see where the noise was coming from. He saw two dogs charging at him. "No, no, nice doggy," Sam said as he turned and bolted. He was running for his life. Sam looked back to see the dogs chasing him. “Please,” he said. He looked ahead and saw a fence and headed towards it. He scrambled over a fence and tumbled onto the asphalt. He then looked up just as a pair of headlights blinded him.
Sam looked to see blue and right lights. A police car approached him and stopped. “Look at what we got here,” the police officer said.
“I can explain,” Sam replied.
Back in the present, the officer slamd his hand on the table. "So you thought your car was stolen but it turned into a 'robot' and it sent a text ssage to space. Is that the story we're going with?" he questioned.
Sam looked at the officer. "I have a video. Well, I had a video, until your partner dropped my phone in his coffee,” he replied.
The two cops exchanged a look of pure pity. The younger one sighed and unlocked the handcuffs. "Look, kid," the lead officer said as he pointed toward the door. "Your dad is outside. He’s paid the fine for trespassing. Just go ho. Stay off the drugs, stay out of the junkyards, and for the love of God, sell that car before you lose your mind entirely."
"But it," Sam tried to say.
"Go ho, Witwicky," the cop grumbled.
Sam stumbled out into the precinct lobby. He knew what he saw. He walked out to the parking lot where he saw the yellow Camaro sitting across the street. “You are here,” he said. He looked around and wondered where his dad was. “I am not taking you,” he said as he walked down the road.
anwhile, Rachael held her laptop as she walked ho. She could feel the sweat dripping down her face. She clutched the laptop close to her chest.
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