For those of you who are utterly confused by the Orky words this story uses, the next chapter is a handy reference guide for all you guys who have no idea what the hell I'm talking about. And don't bother to review and tell me I'm using bad grammer, because Orks talk like that. I'm just being accurate.
Gutznab drove his trukk down the road with all of the attentiveness a Warboss gives a snotling. The crude, bare metal steering yokes, nicked by the Mechboyz from a 'umie walker, felt good in Gutznab's hands, and the big shootas bolted to the side of the trukk added to the overall feeling of warmth and happiness.
"Awright, da target iz reel close now!" He yelled to the motley assortment of Orks in the back of the trukk. "You rotters better be ready when we get there!" he roared over the sound of the primitive coal driven engine. His grot rigger, Niblit, cackled manically as the trukk shot through the dirt, it's oversized tires spraying mud all over the Boyz in the back.
"Shut up Niblit!" yelled Gutznab, smacking the Grot on the back of the head, and sending him flying out of the trukk. Niblit grabbed hold of an antenna and swung himself around into the passenger's seat, tiny hands grasping at the big shoota mounted above.
"You can't lose me that easy Boss!" he joked as he pulled back on the big shoota's bolt with both hands, chambering the ridiculously long belt of ammunition.
"We're here!" Gutznab yelled, swerving the trukk around so the Boyz could hop out. Niblit turned the big shoota and fired it at the 'umie settlement they were raiding, mowing down hapless colonists and Imperial Guardsmen.
The Boyz raised their guns and roared a mighty "Waaaggghhh!!!" before charging blindly into the fray. The screams of civilians and the shouts of the Guardsmen trying desperately to coordinate a response could be heard over the roars of the Orks and the booms of their overpowered guns.
Gutznab jumped out of the trukk, knowing Niblit would keep it hot in case they needed to make a quick exit, and ran toward the first 'umie hut he saw. Slugga blazing and chainword roaring, he cut down a whole squad of Guardsmen before he even reached the hut. A few slashes with the chainsword and there was a nice, Ork sized hole that he could step through to reach the gubbins inside.
Inside, he saw a 'umie cowering in the corner with a tiny 'umie in its arms. Gutznab cocked his head and stared, his tiny brain trying to comprehend why a 'umie Boss would try to protect a 'umie Snotling. Finally, he could stand it no more, and did what all Orks do when they are presented with a problem they cannot figure out: he got violent. Roaring a battle cry, he raised his slugga and fired until the two 'umies were nothing but a pile of warm meat. Gutznab's head felt much better now. Shaking his head in amazement, he turned and looked around the room for anything that looked valuable.
Gutznab emerged from the hut with a bagful of trinkets and weapons, stuff the Weirdboyz would pay a couple of bags of teef for. It was enough to get drunk on anyway.
He pulled a small tube out of his pocket and bit the end off. Colored paste flowed out, and Gutznab quickly wiped the glyphs 'Boss', and 'Wazza' on the bag, representing that the contents of the bag belonged to a head Ork in the Kult of Speed. That would prove to the other Boyz that the bag was his, as each Ork in his warband had his own Glyph and color to wipe onto their bags after a raid. It cut down on fights over loot.
He waited a bit for the paint to dry, and then he slung the bag over his shoulder and walked back toward the Trukk, shooting the occasional 'umie who tried to get up with his Slugga.
He found Niblit waiting exactly where he had left him, in the big shoota seat. Gutznab patted the Grot on the head.
"Good job Niblit, just like we said." Niblit nodded, and took the bag of loot from Gutznab, throwing it into the backseat.
It hit another Ork on the head, and he yelled, "Hey watch it you rotter!"
Gutznab spun and shot the Ork with his slugga, spewing green paste everywhere as the greenskin's head exploded. The other Boyz looked at their leader uncertainly, but what about Gutznab wasn't sure of. Niblit tapped him on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear.
"Whazzat? Hmm? Ohhh… Well, get to it lads, but save a cut of his loot for me!" he yelled to the Orks. They dived on the dead Ork's bag, fighting over what they deemed to be the best of the spoils, and Gutznab sat down in his seat, kicking the trukk into gear.
"WAAAGGHHH!!!!" he yelled happily as the trukk shot back down the road toward the Ork camp.