He was ready to continue pushing Drift's buttons - he got quite a bit of enjoyment from it - but it looked like there was an organic holding three pieces of paper trying to catch their attention. What were those? Pamphlets? He wasn't interested in whatever flyers they were handing out.

Quirking a robot eyebrow, Megatron looks back to Drift, who would obviously be the expert in differentiating all these fleshlings.

"Who is this?" he asks, as if there wasn't a third person he could just speak to directly.