“It’s so good to have someone who will just listen.” Poindexta Smartyskull said to Loudmouf Sneakilla.  Loudmouf nodded in reply, as his loudener speakers were switched off.  Loudmouf gestured towards some black smoke coming from the Gargant known as Da Gentul Teddy Bear, and shrugged his shoulders.

“Ah,” Smartyskull answered “Manik must be hard at work again.  It’s good to know that he keeps my Gargant in good condition.  I hope that during this maintenance that no one steals his bike again.  Last time I lost two perfectly good trukks and…”

*K-ponk*

Smartyskull was interrupted by an object striking him in the side of the head.  It bounced harmlessly off the rusty steel of his mega-armour, and hit the ground with a squelching noise.  Reluctantly, Smartyskull looked down to see what had struck him and to his amazement, found that it was an Ork head wearing a Stormboy’s helmet.  Smartyskull struggled the right arm out of the sheath that held his Big Shoota, and reached down to pick up the head.  It was Jobba.  Surprisingly, the still form of the head jerked to life as Smartyskull looked into Jobba’s eyes.  Jobba’s lips formed the words “Hiya Boss!” though no sound came out.  Jobba’s eyes then darkened and he stopped moving.  Smartyskull flung the head behind him, put his arm back in his armour, and turned to Loudmouf.

“Loudmouf, if you would, please get me Rukkstud.”  Loudmouf beamed, and turned on his speakers.  Before Smartyskull could stop him, he bellowed

“RUKKSTUD!”

The wave of Loudmouf’s shout hit Smartyskull like a Wreckin’ Ball.  His Ork instincts made him try to reach out and smash Loudmouf across the jaw.  Being dazed, he missed, and fell over.  As Loudmouf helped him to his feet, he began to regain his senses.  Just in time for another loud boom followed by the hiss of pistons.

“Yer wanted ta see me Boss?” Rukkstud shouted.  Smartyskull opened his eyes, blinked several times, and was finally able to make out the form of Rukkstud, awkwardly saluting with one of his gigantic adamantium piston arms, and awkwardly balancing on the other arm, and his choppa.  The choppa was being held at a ridiculous angle by a hand protruding from Rukkstud’s pant leg.  Smartyskull sighed.

“Rukkstud, you know that I approve of your leadership style.  You are one of the few in this camp that appreciates military structure and discipline.”

“Sir!  Yessir!  Boss!  Sir!” Rukkstud shouted.

“However, if I am pelted by another piece of your soldiers, I will conclude that you cannot keep proper discipline, or that your aim is too poor, and I will assign you to being a Deffdread.  Do I make myself clear?”

“Sir!  Yessir!  Boss!  Sir!  Sir!  Boss!”

“Dismissed.” Smartyskull make a waving action with his power klaw, and with that, Rukkstud bounded into the air on a column of acrid gray smoke.  Smartyskull held his breath and walked away from the site, followed closely by Loudmouf.  “One day.” He muttered under his breath so that Loudmouf would not hear.  “One day without… this.  Is that too much to ask, Mork?”

By Bozeman

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