Author's Note: Uh I dunno...
Disclaimer: I still do not own Warhammer 40k.
Quote for the Day: "If at first you don't succeed then skydiving's not for you."
"Boss! Boss!" Nob 'ead-choppa – a Slugga Nob – had found himself the unfortunate emissary of the other nobs. After trying to run away and finding himself bodily thrown into the Boss's tent he was doing his best to get in and out as fast as possible.
"Yeah? Wad id it?" grunted Warboss 'eadbreaka.
"It's da boyz, Boss, theys starvin', we'd got nuttin' ta eat."
"So steal it from da humiez."
"Da humiez 'as run off Boss, and they tooked their stuff with 'em."
The Warboss thought about this carefully before finally coming up with an idea which seemed ok. By ork standards it was almost genius.
"USE DA GRETCHIN!"
The Nob left the tent with almost indecent haste, sped up even further by a tactically placed boot from the Warboss.
After a few minutes the screaming started.
The mekboys examined the wreckage of the buggy whilst around them the gretchin began carefully putting it back together again under precise instructions from the mekboys "Now put the round spiky bit on the long square thingy". The Big Mek lifted up the back wheels checking the wheels carefully.
"It da brakes. Oi, you grot," He pointed at a hapless gretchin. "Fetch some of da brakes from da bitz box ober 'eir." The gretchin ran off to do as it was told whilst the Big Mek continued to show the mekboys how to repair the buggy, punctuating it's lesson with repeated blows to the head and smashing the faces of the more stupid (used advisedly) mekboys into one of the wheels, it was during this that the gretchin returned.
"Sorry, boss but there no brakes left..." The gretchin grinned falsely prepared for the inevitable kicking it was about to receive as it tried to sidle away, before it had got even one metre away the Big Mek had grabbed it with it's spare hand – the other hand being occupied with pressing a mekboy's face into a wheel.
"No brakes! No brakes! How we supposed ta make da stuff work if we got no brakes!"
The mekboys stayed silent unsure of how to answer.
"Any ideas boyz?"
The mekboys repeated themselves.
The Big Mek scratched it's head with the hand holding the gretchin as it thought about what to do.
'No brakes, meant no trukks and stuff for da Boss, No trukks meant da Boss wouldn't be happy, an' if da Boss was unhappy 'at meant there might be a new Big Mek soon.' The Big Mek looked at mekboy with it's face pressed into the wheel then at the screaming gretchin in it's hand, it's eyes lit up as an idea hit the ork with typical brutal style. It liked this idea.
The brakes squealed as the buggy slid round the corner, the funny thing was that even after the ork driving took it's foot off the brake, the screaming continued. The two racing buggies turned another corner the brakes screamed even louder. The final lap started and both the driving orks were grinning madly even the one losing looked rather pleased.
With just two turns left the brakes went silent; at the end of the lap the ork got out and shouted at the pit crew.
"Why da brake stop screamin'?" One of the orks looked under the wheels with a professional eye.
"Da gretchin dead."
As the driver stormed off one ork nudged another.
"Next time put it feet first."
Author's Note: I know the speech is slightly off but some words are hard to make orky and anyway mekboys are a bit (comparatively) smarter than other orks.