Location: Magellan IV
Date: 025.307 M42
Campaign Objective: Break the Ork WAAAGH!
572nd Praetorian Guard
Centerforce, 4th quadrant
2 days before expected contact with the enemy
Major Harrison strolled down the front line trenches on his daily inspection. He made a mental note on the condition of the trench (not deep enough,) the state of the equipment (immaculate as always,) and the readiness of the men (one third guarding, one third resting, the remaining third maintaining the defences.)
Harrison approached the company command post, and felt the urge to say something to improve morale. He quipped, "Don't worry men, the bloody greenskins are too busy attacking the Valhallans on the left flank to attack us today. But remain on your guard, for we may..."
"Sir! Get Down!" a trooper pulled Harrison into the company CP just as a storm of bolt shells passed overhead.
"OY! DEM 'UMIES LOOK IN MIGHTY NEED OF A GOOD KRUMPIN'" a huge ork shouted from across no man's land.
The horde of orks behind him roared their customary "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA..."
(gratuitous scene change)
...AAAAAAAAAAAA...(the waaaghcry continues, you get the point)
Sergeant Norgate glanced at his squad, to confirm they were prepared for the oncoming onslaught of orks. He looked back at trooper Ingram, who stood looking away from the enemy, halfway from picking up his lasgun from where it was resting. Norgate was about to snap at the trooper to ready himself, but he hesitated for a second. Norgate seemed to come to, and immediately whirled around to face the correct side of the trench.
The sergeant could have sworn he saw a faint glimmer of gold reflecting out of the troopers eyes before he faced the green horde on the other side of the earthen mound. Trooper Norgate suddenly stood above the lip of the trench, cupped his hands in front of his face, and shouted, "Liverpool!"
Silence engulfed the battlefield.
A low grumbling rose from various locations around the battlefield, not all from the ork lines.
The warboss who have the pre-battle speech slammed his fists into his chest, head butted a gretchin into the imperial lines, and with the voice of the entire horde cried...
"MAN U"
A/N: YAY my first story.
Undoubtedly many among you will find this story less than funny (I don'd disrespect Liverpool, I don't really follow football, but the rest of my family roots for Inter)
Feel free to leave any constructive criticism you wish, and I'll try to get a cover image for the story.