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An ancient struggle erupts on Earth between two warring clans of Dairycons, with a clue to the ultimate power held by a young Heffer.
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In another time and place, yet still Somewhere in Dairyland... As the shard's glow faded, Heffer stood before him. A look of bewilderment crossed his bovine features. "Moo?!" "Shush, Heffer. There isn't time. This is my last act, the final curtain, and we've got to make it count. I'll make this simple for you: the Universe is dead. The Moo-niverse is beginning. And *you* have to save it." At that, Heffer fell silent. PlotHole considered himself the oldest Dairycon, though he was around long before that name was used. Heffer understood that, if not much else, and decided to simply listen. "Now Heffer, I'm going to explain this in a way even you can understand; think of me as the father who you haven't seen in years. Frankly, as a father I'm disappointed that my son is a moron. However, moron or not, as my only heir, I have to impart to you the family legacy, the secret I have kept for millions of years.... the location of the Instruments of Destruction." At that, Heffer startled. The entire Dairycon Universe shifted as That Which Must Not Be Known was about to be passed on to Heffer. "Now, understand I don't tell you this lightly. I do it because my time in the light is short; and Primus forbid something should happen to me, because then *you'll* have to do something about it. You undertand?" He did not. "Very Well Then. The story, as it was told to me...."
"Before Dairycon was... *I* was." Heffer snorted. "All-right, fine, have it your way. Before Dairycon, there was.... the CowPie. We know not where it comes from, only that it holds the power to create worlds and fill them with... life." Heffer continued to snort, to the point where he uddered aloud a humorous 'Moo!' "Sigh. Fine, Heffer, let's just watch the filmstrip." ... The Dairycon Universe is vast, encompassing beings of great power, intelligence, and purpose. In the distant past, there were three ancient weapons, known as The Instruments of Destruction. No one knows who the first Cybertronian was to discover them, but the events they wrought nearly obliterated the universe. The weapons were forged in the heart of the Big Band by the creation of the universe itself. Separately, they were nearly invincible, but it was said that if one being were to unite all three Instruments of Destruction, the power of the Big Band itself would be theirs... virtual omnipotence to reign over all of Creation. The ancient Cybertronians fought to control the weapons. The day that came when one of them, the great one HIMSELF, did gain possession of all three Instruments of Destruction. Wise and most powerful, he realized the great danger the Instuments of Destruction posed. He hid the weapons in the farthest corner of the universe. To ensure they could never be found, the ancient warrior obliterated himself, sacrificing his own spark for the good of the Universe. With the weapons gone, the Cybertronians gradually put aside their warlike ways, and the Instruments of Destruction were forgotten and lost to time. ... ... The Great War would bring the weapons back. A young leader of a splinter group of Autobots and Decepticons was leaving Cybertron to escape The War. His name was Ass-09. How he came into possession of the knowledge was never clear. The location of the three weapons... knowing they could bring the Great War to an end... made it all the more startling that he chose to leave the War behind. More so that the others followed. Though tales of his adventures are legend, it was his search for the weapons that may have been the most famous. Like the weapons themselves, the story of how he came to find them was lost to us. It was rumored that upon touching of one of the weapons, Ass-09 was greeted with a vision of both the past and future. Some say it was vision of his own death, others say it was the death the universe. Taking to heart the sacrifice of the ancient warrior (the great one HIMSELF) - who gave his spark so that the universe might live - touched Ass-09 to his very core. He left the Instruments of Destruction behind. He knew then that they were too dangerous for the Decepticons or the Autobots to possess. Keeping the knowledge to himself, he returned home and began to preach against the dangers of War and the consumption of the entire planet. Dedicating himself to the protection of all life, he eshewed a mechanical alt mode and converted himself to a beast, to be better in-harmony with the universe. His followers did the same. It was thus that the Thousand Donkeys of the Apocalypse were born. Spreading their message to the masses, they happily converted those who believed. All who joined surrendered themselves to the cause, even taking on a duplicate body to the original. Those that did not hear the word were converted anyways. They dominated their portion of the universe with an iron hoof. It was thru sheer happenstance that they were defeated the first time. Brought to a halt by the power of Justice, The Thousand slept, until the fateful day they were awakened again by Dark Energy. Their power both corrupted and restored, they thundered across the landscape, converting all they came in contact with. Again, they were halted. Barely, and at great sacrifice. Ass-09 and the Thousand slept once more, VsQs a silent tomb to their passing. But it was not to be. Awoken again, this time Ass-09 and Thousand have decided on a new approach. Shouting, 'Friendship thru Tyranny!' to the cosmos, they now seek out the Instruments of Destruction and plan to convert the entire Moo-niverse to their way of thinking. They always say that third time's the charm. (Editor's Note: Read more about Ass-09 in Dairycon 2010: Return of Convoy!)
Heffer looked at PlotHole in Disbelief. He wasn't the smartest Dairycon, or the most fuel-efficient, but he'd be darned if he was going to be suckered by some ancient cow-hooey. You could drive Barn thru all the plot holes in PlotHoles' story. Ass-09 and the Thousand Donkeys of the Apocalypse were the bad guys, and Optimus had defeated them. Heffer had helped. He said as much. "Moo." "What, you don't believe me? Shows what you know, sonny. Remember, Optimus assigned Uncle Whiskey Breath to earth with the other Dairycons, *who were already here.* He obviously knew something would happen. Do you think it was coincidence that all the right warriors just *happend* to come together here? You think The Leader or even me could manipulate events on that scale? If we could, why didn't we just stop them permanently? I tell you, it was foresight. They're on the move again, and I'm trying to help. Now shush, and let me continue. Maybe you'll prefer this next part."
...It was said that Ass-09 had two sons. Real chips off the old 'bot. When he was old, and nearing the end of his days, he decided to entrust the secret location of the Instruments of Destruction to one of his sons. The knowledge, though dangerous, could not be lost. For old Ass-09 had seen the end of days as a young 'bot. He knew that one day, a 'bot would rise up to light their darkest hour. Until that day.... So Ass-09 pondered. The oldest son was his people’s greatest warrior. A Leader of 'bots, he was the strongest and bravest of all the ancient Dairycons. He was known as their Combat Hero. They called him Hoofer. His younger son... was the village idiot. He was so dumb his data-core capacity was measured in fractionals. His name was Heffer, and he was a moron. Dumb he may be, but his spark was honorable. Ass-09 made his decision.
Heffer knew Plothole must be pulling his hoof about now. He wasn't the smartest Dairycon what roamed the hills, but he knew darn well he was a 'bot, not an organic offshoot of a bad guy. Plothole snickered. "You're missing the point, boy. You think you were always like this? Think back. Do you even remember how you came to be? You think you just fell off the turnip truck one day and there you were? It's called allegory, son. Now quiet, and let me continue."
...Ass-09 decided. He decided to entrust the secret locations of the Instruments of Destruction to Heffer. Hoofer, needless to say, was enraged that his father would entrust Heffer with such an important secret. As the strongest, smartest, and best looking of the ancient Dairycons, Hoofer considered being passed over like this to be the greatest of insults. But Old Ass-09 was wise. He knew that Hoofer, for all his wonderful qualities, was too-ambitious. If given the chance, he would gather the weapons and use them to conquer Cybertron.... and possibly the Universe. Hoofer had always resented the quiet life they had lived away from their home planet, and longed to return home a Warrior. A Conquerer. Hoofer left Ass-09 and the ancient Dairycons in anger, vowing that he would one day have his revenge on Heffer... Hoofer was never seen or heard from again.
Heffer had but one response. "Moo." "Still not buying it, eh? Think old PlotHole's a quart low? Lemme tell ya, sonny, you just don't appreciate a good story. I'm trying to impart a Great Truth to you, and you sit there and question me. I knew this was a mistake. But sadly, you are the moron for the job. Because you, my Dear Heffer, are the Hero of this Story. The oil of the great Ass-09 himself courses thru you!" Heffer had about enough at this point. He stood to go. "Listen to me! You need to know this. The ancient Dairycons fought for many years over the Instruments of Destruction. They thought Hoofer was right. But Heffer, for all that you were a moron, were smart in the fact that *you* didn't talk. Sound familiar? Know any other reason why you wouldn't talk?" Heffer sat back down. Story or not, he vowed to hear this through. "I knew you'd understand. Let me continue. Old Ass-09 sat his son Heffer down and told him the ancient story as it was passed down to Him. He told him that...." Suddenly, the Ancient seized; the phenom that was gripping the Universe, turning it into the Multiverse was upon him. Collapsing to the ground, Plothole seemed to flicker in and out of existence. "Time.... out of time..." It was his intention to reveal to Heffer the location of the Instruments of Destruction. To explain why they existed. To explain why there was a break in the line of decendents, and why the knowledge was lost. But he simply did not have the time. PlotHole was about to become one with the Moo-niverse. It would be up to another to guide Heffer toward protecting it. Wth his last ounce of strength, he seized Heffer by the sides and pulled himself up. "Our time is short, boy. Listen. You need a Guide. The Great One HIMSELF was the birth of the Dairycon Universe. And he can help you with the Multiverse. He's Still Here! He was never really gone! You have to seek him out, boy. Ask Electrum Beast about the Emperor of Construction! Find the lost weapons. Save the Multiverse, boy! Do. You. Understand?!" PlotHole had ahold of Heffer's shoulders at this point, shaking him vigorously to make his point. Heffer staggered... And then, Time ran out. The Ancient screamed; The Moo-niverse was upon him. Heffer could only watch as a holy light filled PlotHole, fading from this Universe to give birth to the next one. The shuddering of the very fabric of space could be felt around him, until finaly... finally... He was gone. PlotHole. Ancient of Space. Formerly of the Dairycon Universe, now passed on to that Great Beyond. Heffer couldn't describe the feeling of what he had just witnessed. But he did understand one thing: He was Alone.
Heffer was not the smartest Dairycon what fell off the turnip truck, nor the fastest. But what he lacked in style he made up for in pure gumption. He knew that he was, at best, the also-ran. The humorous foil that others based their jokes on. Sure, old Heffer had a few good runs; he's helped Prime defeat the Darkness. He'd run with the big guns at the Show. But more often than not, he was left behind to graze in the pasture, a mere sidekick while others would be heroes. Well, not this time. It was time for sidekick to Step Up. Heffer didn't know about Construction from Destruction. He wasn't much for philosophy. But when he needed help, Heffer knew who he could turn to.
His Friends. |
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