"Yeah? Figures you science-y sorts wouldn't need to deal with the grunt wranglers so much," Spinister remarks in amusement, leaning against the edge of a crowded table as he takes another sip.

"Well, it doesn't have to be real Black Label to be yummy." Honestly, Spin was happy with anything that wasn't the lead laden soup that'd become his normal diet once again. Man, they didn't have corpses to siphon from in the wastes. At least corpse juice had less heavy metals to gunk up their filters with.

He's enamored enough with having decent energon he actually doesn't notice Brainstorm edging towards his work bench.