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[ The feed flickers into life at an artistic Dutch angle. Then the camera corrects itself. Rewind flashes his optics in a way that'd read as friendly to other Cybertronians; his visor's carefully arranged into an exaggerated smiling-with-the-eyes expression, for the benefit of the organics who aren't used to reading Cybertronian expressions, especially those of 'bots with faceplates. ]

Hi! I'm Rewind of the Autobots, one of the Cybertronians here on the Moira. We're the big robots. We turn into things.

I have something really important to talk to you all about.

[ The camera swings around to point at a screen. There's a soft whirring noise of a projector and a picture flickers into view on the screen.

It's Whirl. ]

Okay, see him? This is Whirl. He's also an Autobot and a Cybertronian. I want you all to be aware of the following things: one, do not ask him for the time, ever; two, do not stare at or ask about his claw-- his hands. His hands. Or his face. Three. Do not, ever, for the love of all that is sacred to you organics, call him a lamp. Or this will happen.

[ Whirl's picture flickers off the screen, to be replaced by footage of the latest Autobot escapade. Then the camera swings around to focus on Rewind's face again. He contrives to look as obviously disapproving as he can. ]

And that's the best-case scenario. Worst-case scenario? He kills you.

This has been a public service announcement. Thank you all for listening!