I grew up a Star Wars kid- born 3 days after my mom saw the original film opening night. If I could have talked upon birth, I would have said to my mom "Thanks for the ride-- now, let's go see that movie again."

The first several years of my life on Earth were spent largely concerned with my getting into outer space. My methods of travel were simple and readily available- repeatedly watching the Star Wars movies was essential. I also had my toys, my pencil & paper and my imagination to guide me home.  By 1983, the Star Wars series was effectively over. My love of it didn't diminish, but my desire for new space adventures remained. A year later, I saw STAR TREK III: THE SEARCH FOR SPOCK. In that film, I saw a ship explode in a desperate move by its crew to save a man with pointy ears and cool eyebrows. He wore a bathrobe and seemed confused. Fade to black.
Spoilers, Nickbot!
The emotions of that story didn't affect me, but the flavor of what Star Trek offered had me very interested. My journey from a galaxy far, far away into the final frontier had begun.


Me, Grimlock: The Emotional Intelligence of a Robot Dinosaur.

The year is 2005 and everyone is dying. 

As some of you may know, THE TRANSFORMERS: THE MOVIE was a oil-bath of destruction. Having lost Windcharger and some other noble warriors (whose names escape me at present), the remaining Autobots had to quickly gather themselves to defeat Galvatron and his planet-eating patron, Unicron.

Sharkticons of the world unite!

Amidst all of this survivor's guilt, there was one robot who's indomitable spirit went largely overlooked because of his primitive speech patterns- the Right Reverend, (King) Grimlock.