Disclaimer: Wheelie is the property of Hasbro. I'm just borrowing him for a moment of psychotics.
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They never suspect the innocent ones.

I may be small and talk in silly rhymes, but that's just to put them off guard. They shrug me off and treat me like a child.

Just like the others before them.

Miscalculated last time, though. Should never have given the pilot time to set the auto-destruct. Sloppy, that. It's what got me stuck on that Primus-forsaken planet with only the stray Sharkticon or Quint to keep me busy.

I can tell you right now, neither is any challenge to kill. Sharkticons are too stupid and Quints are next to defenseless without their guards. Give me a good Sirian or Paluvian anyday. At least they put up a reasonable fight.

My size is misleading. I've always been short. I don't consider it a disadvantage, though. They underestimate me, make mistakes... create openings.

Heh.

Now I'm with my "fellow" Autobots. They took me in, rescued me from Quintessa, assuming I'd been abandoned and needed help.

Yeah, I needed help alright. I was about to die of boredom.

They never suspected they were letting a killer into their midst.

"Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to. Why would I cause you harm? Oops, there goes your arm!"