How can Michael Bay tell all these people what he is thinking without something telling him what to say?

He can’t, that’s what. When the prompter stops, so does the Bay man.

You might as well just paint Michael Bay from head-to-toe with silver paint and stand him on a milk crate in the middle of Venice Beach. Without the prompter, there is not hope for humanity.

PS: I’m pretty sure during this entire freeze-up, Michael Bay is wishing so hard for an amazing explosion sequence or a giant robot to come along and steal some of the attention away.

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