Okay, thank you everyone for your awesome suggestions! I love the fact that you all took the time to read this story, and give me ideas, and I really regret the fact that I can't use all of them.

I'd love to use all of them, but I can't. Some of them I find impractical and some of them I just don't feel comfortable writing. (Sorry. They were good suggestions, though. Very unique. I just don't think I can work with them.) :( The ones I will be using for sure are mech/human tattoos, jewellery making, metalwork, wood carving, and origami, but I may find ways to use the other suggestions.

Once again, I do not own Transformers nor do I make any profit from this, just the satisfaction I get from your lovely reviews. The only thing I own is the crazy idea of Sunstreaker and Sam blundering their way through new art experiences and insane lessons. Warning-this will be very OOC.

And now, for the chapter you've all been waiting for . . .

I present to you, Princess Starscream!

Something was wrong.

Something was very, very wrong.

The entire base knew that something was wrong, and it had to do with the master and apprentice—Sunstreaker and Sam.

Bumblebee shifted uneasily, watching the two as they sat next to each other and held a whispered conversation.

It wouldn't be all that worrying, except for the fact that both of them had maniacal grins and occasionally would let out a very evil and insane laugh while rubbing their hands together.

Sideswipe patted Bumblebee on the back as the scout let out a miserable whine. "Don't worry, Bee. I'm sure they're . . ." His cheerful expression wavered and turned into a grimace as he stared at his brother. "Up to no good and are probably going to kill, mutilate, and or damage something." He slumped over with a depressed sigh, ignoring Bumblebee's alarmed look. "Sunny won't even tell me what they're planning. He's even blocking me off from our bond." He moaned. "And he's been ignoring me the entire day."

"Hehehe," Sam smiled at them in a rather frightening manner as Sunstreaker tucked a datapad away. "By the time this day is over . . . we will have our revenge."

Sunstreaker smirked evilly. "Shall we go and . . . execute some vengeance?"

"Oh yes, lets." Sam jumped onto his hand with a diabolical grin.

For the first time, Bumblebee noticed his charge was holding a machine gun. Before the, now very alarmed scout could say anything, the two raced out of the room, shrieking with maniacal laughter.

"Should we call Ratchet?" Sideswipe asked, staring at the empty doorway.

Bumblebee's head thudded into the table as his radio switched on. :S.O.S! I'm in distress, someone save me now! . . . We're doomed, aren't we?:

Starscream had the nagging feeling that something was going to go really, really wrong today.

Frowning, he stalked through the hallways of the Decepticon base, heading toward the fresh air and clean sky, reasoning that his apparent twitchiness was the result of being cooped up inside for so long. If he'd known what was going to happen to him, he wouldn't have left the base at all.

But, unfortunately for Starscream, and fortunately for two certain revenge hungry miscreants, he had no clue and as such went willingly to his doom.

"There he is! There he is!" Sam wriggled excitedly.

"Alright, I'll pin him down when he starts to skim the ground, and you grab the supplies." Sunstreaker ordered, grinning darkly up at the Seeker. "Don't move until I give the order."

Starscream, unknowing of the two hiding below him, decided to transform as he flew closer to the ground, obviously intending to land.

"Perfect." Sam smirked. "He'll never know what hit him."

"NOW!"

All Starscream heard was the word "NOW!" and then something large and yellow smashed into him, grabbing a wire in his neck and yanking before he had time to react. At that moment, he realized three things. One, it had been a big mistake to leave base. Two, he was being attacked by an Autobot and a human. And three, he now was unable to move.

Sunstreaker snickered in a manner befitting a Decepticon, the human—Sam Witwicky—also looked triumphant. "Now, for our revenge . . ."

And then Starscream caught sight of what the yellow mech was holding. Oh . . . Slag.

Megatron stared in silence at the Seeker standing in front of him.

". . . Starscream . . . what is . . . that?"

"What does it look like?" Starscream snarled, busily attempting to claw the mounds of pink, frilly fabric off while wrestling with the sparkly pink tiara that was perched on his helm on top of a large blonde wig made of yellow yarn. Both were solidly glued on, however, and they were not coming off any time soon. "Stupid Autobot . . . stupid squishy . . ."

"Are you saying that a human did that to you?" Skywarp broke in incredulously, the prankster torn between laughing and staring.

"Don't laugh, moron." Starscream said, a sudden, smug grin crossing his face, which was painted to look like he was wearing make-up. "Because that insignificant squishy just got our glorious leader."

Heads turned to face Megatron, who'd suddenly turned green with spots, rubber webbing stretched over his claws, and a fake gold crown glued to his head.

"What?" Megatron roared furiously, seeing his reflection in a consol. "What is this . . . slag?"

"This, Lord Megatron," Starscream said with a satisfied snicker. "Means you are my very ugly frog prince! Mwahahaha!" He flounced away, still laughing at Megatron's enraged expression as he dodged cannon fire.

Optimus stared at the massive poster decorating the rec. room. It depicted the most insane of subjects—Megatron painted to look like a frog, and Starscream dressed like a princess wearing a tiara and a frilly pink dress. He glanced over at Sam and Sunstreaker, who were wearing twin looks of evil satisfaction and sighed. "I don't want to know, do I?"

"No, sir. You probably don't." Sideswipe said with a serious expression, trying to keep a broad grin off his face. "But they're watching the video here later."

Optimus contemplated Megatron's green face before smirking behind his battle mask. "I'll need to see the damage report anyway."