"Crosshairs! My room." Ironhide says as he walks past the rec room, heading up the stairs.
"Can'. I'm on the rag."
Ironhide stops and turns around, resetting his optics. "What?!"
"Ye know, it's tha' time of the month. I can work again in three days."
"I'm 'avin' my period. Ye really don't wanna tap me right now."
Knock Out groans. "For fucks sake, you're still not an organic!"
"But if I was one, I'd 'ave periods, an' I'd need days off. We should get four consecutive days a month off. A bit o' rag leave."
"Can someone slap him around the helm?" Blackout says impatiently.
"You don't need it!" Ironhide says.
"Maybe no', but if we 'ad organics 'ere, they'd need time off fer their period, an' it would be unfair fer us te no' 'ave any leave jus' cause we're mechs. So we should get leave fer our periods."
Ironhide looks annoyed, and everyone holds their vents, except Crosshairs.
"Come on, hoes, we need te stand united in this. This reeks of patriarchy. We 'ave rights, dammit. Le's unionize. We should get days off as if we 'ad periods." Crosshairs says before turning back to Ironhide. "And we wan' the proper equipment te deal with this. Ye 'ave te supply us with menstrual cups, tampons, an' pads."
"Please, stop." Someone groans.
"Can someone take away the interplanetary TV from Crosshairs so we don't have to live through these ideas?"
"Come on, Hide, so 'elp me, I swear I'll get modifications te 'ave periods if we don' get this. There will be energon all over the place." Crosshairs challenges.
"Two consecutive days a month, scheduled as if following a cycle. You get your own damned rags, I'm not doing that. And you better be in estrus sometime between your periods."
Crosshairs jumps up from the couch, fist pumping victoriously.
"Ye 'ear tha', hoes? We got rights. Now, wha's yer favorite: tampons, pads, or a cup?"
Collective groaning is heard from around the room, even if they all suddenly have a few days off each month.
"What the fuck, Hide?!" Blackout growls, clearly displeased.
"He'll have half a day off, then he'll claw down your door, begging you to frag him so good, that tampon gets stuck in his throat."
Nitro Zeus looks thoughtfully at the pleasurebots who are cringing and rolling their optics to get through Crosshairs's eager monologue about their new bodily function.
"So, are we going to have periods too? I mean, we all have the same equipment... Ow!"
Ironhide slaps him around the helm.