So, first off, I don't own Warhammer. That belongs to Games Workshop.
Secondly, I don't own Big Bad John. That belongs to several different cover artists.
Third, yes this is a songfic for Warhammer. Enjoy.
(Big John, Big John)
Ev'ry mornin' at the mine you could see him arrive
Brother-Marine Jonathan helped out at the mine, shoveling ore like the regular people he was supposed to be watching over. It wasn't that he felt obligated, but he had been the son of a miner, and he knew how hard of a life it was for them.
He stood nine foot six and weighed two four oh five
Being an Adeptus Astartes, he was significantly taller than the men he worked with, more so because of a particular genetic conflict that had made him even taller than his own battle-brothers. It made working in the mines even harder for him, especially in some of the deeper tunnels.
Kinda broad at the shoulder and narrow at the hip
Truthfully, his form was closer to the mythical Adonis, or Hercules, but his armor made his shoulders seem so much wider. It was just another side effect of his being chosen as a recruit, and made into a man he would never have become, if he had had the choice.
And everybody knew ya didn't give no lip to Big John.
(Big John, Big John) Big Bad John (Big John)
Every single Battle-brother who had told him to stop helping the masses, and to just do his own job, had left with dented helmets. Direct punches with the same power-fist he used to shatter rock and save on explosives. They had stopped telling him, content to not have their faces bashed in.
Nobody seemed to know where John called home
He never went back to the barracks at the end of the work day, sometimes sleeping in the tunnels, sometimes taking up residence outside the tents of his work-mates. Never around his Battle-brothers.
He just drifted into town and stayed all alone
The other marines came and went as they pleased, but Brother John hadn't left the town once in the three decades since he had arrived.
He didn't say much, kinda quiet and shy
Most of the miners suspected that those few words he spoke were recorded in his armor, and he couldn't actually speak. They weren't far off.
And if you spoke at all, you just said "Hi" to Big John.
It was easier than trying to hold a one sided conversation, and one of the few things that would get a response. A gruff, echoey "Hello," that could be mistaken for the growl of mining equipment to the uninformed.
Somebody said he came from New Orleans
The planet New Orleans was a wretched war-zone. It had been taken by chaos, and returned to the Imperium before being taken again. It was one of the best, and worst, places to visit, and it had been John's home for two decades. He had stayed to fight off chaos forces repeatedly, despite there being planets worth far more that he could have helped with.
Where he got in a fight over a Sister Marine
The Adeptus Sororitas soldier had been pinned down by a Slaaneshi daemon when he had come to her rescue, driving his boot across its skull.
And a crashin' blow from a huge right hand
Sent a Loosiana fellow to the Promised Land-Big John
(Big John, Big John) Big Bad John (Big John)
He had pulled out all the stops and driven his power-fist through a chaos marine's torso, removing the corrupted creature's still-beating heart, "May the Emperor Forgive your betrayal, Because I won't!"
Then came the day at the bottom of the mine
It was a normal day, at first. Work work work, and the ore-cart was nearly full and ready to be hauled back to the surface.
When a timber cracked and men started cryin'
The thick iron-wood logs holding up the mountain above them shuddered as an explosion lower in the mine hit a solid vein of iron and lanced through a particularly important structural beam.
Miners were prayin' and hearts beat fast
Every man around John was screaming out to the Emperor, pledging their allegiance to him, and pleading to be saved from this hellish pit.
And everybody thought that they'd breathed their last-'cept John
John had released his own prayers, for the men around him, not for himself. The Emperor would answer him, he knew. It was just a matter of what he needed to do.
Through the dust and the smoke of this man-made hell
Walked a giant of a man that the miners knew well
John cut a striking figure in the floating dirt particles and ash and wood splinters. His coal-dust stained armor and rough-cut helmet gave him the appearance of the Reaper himself.
Grabbed a saggin' timber, gave out with a groan
The towering Space Marine grabbed the splintered ends of the broken timber and forced them back up against the rock, "GET OUT!"
And like a giant oak tree he just stood there alone-Big John
(Big John, Big John) Big Bad John (Big John)
And with all of his strength he gave a mighty shove
Then a miner yelled out "There's a light up above!"
The miners scrambled for the light-source, trying to get to the exit as quickly as possible. Even an Astartes couldn't hold up a mountain forever.
And a hundred men scrambled from a would-be grave
Head-counts showed that everyone had gotten out safely. Except Brother-Marine John. Every saved miner let out cries of relief and thanks to the Emperor.
Now there's only one left down there to save-Big John
With jacks and timbers they started back down
The other Marines helped scrounge up whatever heavy equipment they could find, handing it off to the miners, even as several donned their helmets to go with.
Then came that rumble way down in the ground
The camp shuddered, and several tents fell as sinkholes opened beneath them. They had to hurry.
And then smoke and gas belched out of that mine
Coal dust suspended in the air carried the scent of blood. Astartes blood, meaning his armor had ruptured under the collapsing rocks. Everyone froze as the scent covered them. The Marines stopped moving equipment towards the mine.
Everybody knew it was the end of the line for Big John
(Big John, Big John) Big Bad John (Big John)
Now they never reopened that worthless pit
They just placed a marble stand in front of it
The other Astartes refused to de-value their brother's sacrifice by digging up his grave, though it meant the loss of his Gene-seed. They helped the miners erect a small pedestal bearing a simple message.
These few words are written on that stand
At the bottom of this mine lies a hell of man, Big John
(Big John, Big John) Big Bad John (Big John)
R&R folks.