The plot? Come on, are you really going to do this to me? I didn’t even bother to see Transformers: The Second One, although it is possible I watched a great deal of it, without sound, on the airplane screen of a passenger sitting a row ahead of me that one time. Something about the moon and a space-time bridge and a new Transformer, Sentinel Prime, who is basically Optimus Prime’s dad (although they’re robots, so it’s unclear how that works). Sentinel is voiced by Leonard Nimoy, appropriately sepulchral. A bunch of robots fight a bunch of other robots, and you can’t tell which are the good robots and which are the bad robots because they all look alike, you robot racist.
The people who you think might be evil turn out to be evil. Humanity triumphs. Optimus Prime gives a speech. Chicago burns. Your brain cells perish by the thousands, their howls of agony lost to the cacophony inside your skull. Vast quantities of money, roughly equal to the GDP of Tonga, travel from America’s wallets into the coffers of Paramount. Rosie Huntington-Whiteley’s ass returns to its home planet to report that Earth is ripe for the plucking. Enjoy it while you can!