This one comes with a short story:

Imagine this...

Late October, 1984: it's about 4 PM or so, getting towards dusk as the days are shorter this
time of year. You're in your car, driving on a road in Western Oregon, and it's been raining
all day for the past 3 days. It's been a long day, filled with nothing but driving and errands,
and it's foggy and chilly out. You're wet, cold, weary and hungry (not necessarily in that
order), and you just want to get home.

To be honest, you're sick of rain.

Adding to an already frustrating and gloomy day, a cement mixer truck has been driving
right behind you for the past hour. It's had several chances to turn off, and a couple of times
you even tried to let it pass you. It didn't though; the truck just kept behind you, driving at
an uncomfortably close distance behind you. "What’s this guy’s problem Did I do
something to tick him off?!” you ask yourself, but you can’t think of anything that would
even qualify. As soon as you can, you turn down another road to get away from him. But
just as you start to relax, he shows up in your rear-view mirror again.

Thinking about it, you begin to wonder if this particular driver has “issues”: his truck is
lime green, with a dark purple mixing drum. Easily, the weirdest colors anyone ever painted
a construction vehicle. But then you notice something that unnerves you as you look at it
again in your rear view mirror...

...there's NO driver.

In a blind panic, you floor the pedal to get the hell away from it. You’re completely freaked
out by what you just saw, and you want no more of this nightmare! But to your horror, the
cement mixer truck not only manages to keep up with you, but begins to overtake your car.
It shouldn't be able to, but it is. Your blood runs cold as you desperately try to get away
from this...As you keep the pedal to the floor, you almost run off the road a couple of times,
the cement truck almost on top of you.

As you hear an otherworldly cackling coming from the cement truck, your engine light
picks this moment as the perfect time to come on. Your temperature gauge screams what
the steam from your hood has just told you: you're overheating badly. But the cement truck
is now almost right next to you, and suddenly veers to slam right into you. Terror and sheer
panic run in your heart as you desperately pray to pass a police officer or someone else, so
they can see this and hopefully put an end to it...

As the cab of the cement mixer nears your driver's side door, you hear from the truck a
shrill, almost manic high-pitched metallic voice:

"We just got here, and I find such a lovely ingredient for my next batch of organic-based
sealant!!! BWAHAHAHAHA-"
Then a brilliant, blinding flash and a loud "BOOM" that reverberates through you and your
car shakes you. Slamming on the brakes, you can’t see anything and fear has you so firmly
gripped, it almost feels like you’re having a heart attack. You sit for what seems to be an
eternity, still dazed and blinded from what almost seemed to be like horizontal lightning.
You slowly and fearfully get out of your car, your eyes beginning to register shapes and
motion. As your vision slowly returns and the white fades back into the colors of life, you
see the cement truck lying on its' side, a smoldering, gaping hole torn raggedly in its drum.
The steady rain dampens the billowing plumes of blue-grey, acrid smoke.

Then you hear a deep, gravely voice call out to you from the side of the road:

"Are you alright?"

As you turn to look where the voice came from, you cannot believe your eyes. A gigantic,
HULKING... thing that looks like it’s part vehicle. It almost looks like someone used a
semi to make a giant robot! It begins to approach you; but as you consider fleeing,
something about the robot's eyes and voice seems calm and collected. It stands there with a
presence of...

You struggle for the word and the closest thing your mind comes up with is: "command".

"Please, do not be afraid; I will not harm you." It says, lowering what looks to be some kind
of gun in its right "hand". "I detect that your vehicle is damaged, and needs attention. I have
called for assistance for you, while I await my fellow Autobots."

"W-who... who ARE you?" you ask, the shock now settling in as you realize this is all
beyond your comprehension.

It seems to study you for a second before replying, placing it's "gun" behind it in some kind
of panel that opens on its "back"...

"My name is Optimus Prime..."