Timmy Tim-Tim has finally stopped falling down a well and is now grown up enough to finally have some common sense to stop playing with the Decepti-Dorks. Consequently the Auto-Butts are bored from the lack of people in danger for them to swoop in and save, and now the Decepti-Dorks have no one to play with. From this pit of not so conflicting interests, a stinking heap of tales so ridiculous that even Ultra Fragnu- I mean Ultra MAGNUS, is compelled to tell his sparkling in the hopes that they will avoid the terrible fates of those involved in the following stories. Madness ensues. Credit for the cover goes to its respective artist. I claim nothing but my internal ramblings that have been projectile-vomited forcefully onto paper, then transferred to the GREAT INTERNET!* * A respectful "HALLELUJAH!" Should be shouted in response to when this phrase is spoken ( or shouted ) aloud. Yes, this is mandatory. No, I am not joking. ... Oh, by the way.. Good luck. I suppose you'll need it.