I am a most strange and extraordinary person.

I'm going to be a great film star! That is, if booze and sex don't get me first.

…..

I guess you have to fill in the rest of the holes yourself.

Ouch.

If you want to save yourself the ticket price, go into the kitchen, cue up a male choir singing the music of hell, and get a kid to start banging pots and pans together. Then close your eyes and use your imagination.

The battle scenes are bewildering. A Bot makes no visual sense anyway, but two or three tangled up together create an incomprehensible confusion. I find it amusing that creatures that can unfold out of a Camaro and stand four stories high do most of their fighting with…fists.

The plot is incomprehensible. The dialog of the Autobots®, Decepticons® and Otherbots® is meaningless word flap. Their accents are Brooklyese, British and hip-hop, as befits a race from the distant stars. Their appearance looks like junkyard throw-up. They are dumb as a rock. They share the film with human characters…

I'm not famous anymore…

Uh, I did it first, so there

I am not famous anymore.

I JUST HATE YOU, AND I HATE YOUR ASS FACE.

Do you really enjoy living a life that's so hateful? 'Cause there's a hole where your soul should be, you're losing control of it, and it's really distasteful.

No…

This is the fuckin' American dream. This is my fuckin' dream, y'all! All this sheeyit! Look at my sheeyit! I got… I got SHORTS! Every fuckin' color. I got designer T-shirts! I got gold bullets. Motherfuckin' VAM-pires. I got Scarface. On repeat. SCARFACE ON REPEAT. Constant, y'all! I got Escape! Calvin Klein Escape!…

What a bunch of A-holes.

I AM NOT FAMOUS ANYMORE

We've passed the point of no return.

I remember when this whole thing began. No talk of God then, we called you a man.

You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake.