Stuck in an Ork Home
The sounds of manic, violence-driven laughter echoed a distance away. The walls, though shoddy in their engineering, muffled much of their cheers and war cries significantly. They sounded as though they reveled in their attempts to harm and slay the slimes that now populated the forested area, the beach, and all around their fishing shack. Brent guessed that the orks were past and beyond the front door entrance, fighting in the front yard that the front door led to. Their roars of battle and shouts of insane bloodlust, however, were truly cacophonous. Gorggat and Grashnik were so loud that Brent couldn't tell how close they were to their home, and their fight with the slimes went on for many hours. Worse still, their domicile had small inhabitants living inside of it. They were pale green and ugly, much like the green of the gretchin and the orks, but were quite small and had only a tatter of loincloth that covered their naked shame. These were apparently called 'snotlings'.
And though they were given clear instructions not to eat Brent, one of them had decided that poking Brent with a stick wouldn't incur the wrath of his masters, and that it was an excellent way to kill time when he had nothing else to do.
Poke.
Brent reviewed his cage and his surroundings.
Poke.
He was stuck inside of a steel cage that had thick bars surrounding him.
Poke.
Thankfully, the bars were not a problem for Brent, since he knows that slimes had no bones in their bodies.
Poke.
He could quite easily slip out of his cage with little to no trouble.
Poke.
The real problem would be dealing with the snotlings.
Poke.
"Stop it." Brent asked, annoyed by the snotling's antics. The snotling smiled back as he hid his pointed stick behind himself. Brent shook his head before he continued thinking about his escape plan. Dealing with the snotlings might pose more difficulty, since they are variables that posed the most danger to Brent.
Poke.
He could just eat all of them, but he really wasn't sure what would happen if he made himself sick from eating too many snotlings.
Poke.
Could slimes even get sick from overeating?
Poke.
Brent would have to ask Tiffany that question at some point.
Poke.
Of course, he could try fighting the snotlings, biting all of their heads off and make his escape that way.
Poke
But even then, they might get the idea to run to their masters and inform them that Brent was making an attempt to flee.
Poke.
Brent would certainly not want the ire of their masters directed at him if they discovered Brent attacking their servants!
Poke.
"PLEASE Stop it." Brent asked loudly, turning to the snotling that was poking him. The snotling that poked Brent hid his stick behind his back, whistling like he was doing something else. What a fiend. Brent slowly looked away from the snotling to continue on making his plan again.
Poke.
Once after Brent escapes the orks' shack, he would have to find a way to get back to his friends.
Poke.
And that was when Brent remembered something.
Poke.
There were now those other slimes to worry about.
Poke.
But not just any of the human-turned-slime kind of slimes, but wild slimes.
Poke.
And these wild slimes looked incredibly similar to Tiffany, Samantha, and Brent.
Poke.
How will he be able to tell his friends apart from the other tabby, rock, and phosphor slimes?
Poke.
Maybe if he had access to one of those fashion pod curios, then maybe he could affix them with some fashion items, enabling him a means to find his friends more expediently?
Poke.
Brent turned quickly to the snotling with an angry expression. "I have asked you nicely before, so now I am going to warn you. If you poke me with that stick again, then I am going to do something the both of us will regret. Poke me again and I! WILL! BITE YOU!" The mischievous smile that was on the snotling's face vanished in seconds. He tilted his head slightly as his beady red eyes analyzed Brent with some curiosity. Brent was unsure if the warning he gave was clear to the snotling. Even more slowly now, Brent turned away from the snotling. Once he paused for a few seconds, he decided to contemplate on his plan again. Or would have, had the snotling took the warning and left Brent alone.
Poke.
Poke.
Poke.
Poke.
Poke.
Poke.
Poke.
Poke.
Poke.
Brent was not going to tolerate this any longer. He lashed out, mouth wide open and ready to punish the tiny green bastard that failed to heed his warning from before. The snotling was surprised as his arm was entrapped by an adhesive tongue, and was unable to retreat as Brent's mouth pulled him in and wrapped around over half of the snotling's torso. Muffled screaming was heard from within Brent's mouth, but he didn't care anymore. He chomped down on the snotling, more focused on harming the tiny bastard rather than eating him. The snotling flailed wildly as his legs kicked around, both surprised that Brent could slip past the bars of his cage to bite at his tormentor, and terrified upon being surrounded by horrible gnashing, scratching, chewing, piercing slimy teeth.
The other snotlings watched in horror as their brother became mangled by Brent's maw.
And now, with the snotling sufficiently punished by Brent's biting, he released him. The punished snotling's entire upper body was horribly disfigured. Where there was once ears and a nose were now chewed-off lumps. His face, arms and upper torso was pockmarked with several puncture wounds. But the worst crippling injuries the snotling sustained was to his eyes, for he now had no eyes to see with.
The taste of iron and salty blood was spat out. Brent was rather surprised that he did so much damage. How many teeth did he have? "I warned you." Brent growled, which made the snotling scuttle away in blind fear. Unfortunately, the crippled snotling had accidentally wandered blindly into the cooking fire, making him flail in screaming pain before becoming silent. His flesh was cooked before it charred into burnt meat, its smell filling the room with an odd mixture of overcooked mushrooms and burnt frog legs. Sadly, the smell had made Brent hungry again.
And, unfortunately, the snotlings that saw Brent biting their brother have became witnesses to a murder.
Not wanting to have the snotling tattlers telling their masters that Brent was responsible for the death of one of their brothers, Brent decided to come up with a threat on the spot. "And if you guys so much as tell a word of this to Gorggat, Grashnik, or anyone else, then you will end up like that bastard!"
The other snotlings scampered away, frightened by the implication of becoming green and red ground beef, like what happened after their brother continued teasing the captive pink slime. It seemed as though the threat worked.
Unfortunately, Brent didn't have more time to think of a plan to escape, for it was around this time that Gorggat and Grashnik came back from their slime fighting escapade. Grishnak heaved his spear off of his shoulder and leaned it on the wall, panting heavily as he did so. "Phew! neva thought i'd eva get tired fight'n' an krump'n. I lost kount on how many wobbliez i krumped."
Gorggat rolled his neck as he dropped his ugly and huge sword. "Yer kall dat krump'n? ma choppa an your spear keeps pass'n right throo im! it's like dey were dose chaos bugeyez, 'sept dey don't really put up much uv a fight! It'd probably be fasta if I stepped on all of dem!"
"But stomp'n im doesn't work!" Grashnik groaned. "Gork an Mork knows i've tried! take yer boot off uv dere faces an dey get back right up from da puddles dey leave behind!"
Gorggat growled. "Only way i kan fink ta get rid uv im iz ta drow im outta our property."
Grashnik shook his head. "We've been do'n dat for a long while, 'sept i've been notic'n dat dey keep popp'n outta da ground every time we do."
Gorggat huffed. "Have yer seen any uv dose wobbly slimes lay dere plort fings an bury im 'n 'da ground?"
Grashnik shook his head as he pulled several plorts out of his various pockets. "No, but i have been pick'n im up anytime i find im. I notice dat dey make dese fings every time dey eat someth'n."
Gorggat pointed at Grashnik's gathered plorts. "So are dese plort fings eggs or not den?! i's dink'n dey made a bunch uv dese plorts an buried im while we was on our hunt'n trip!"
Grashnik shrugged his shoulders. "Well whateva dese bug-eyed wobbly slimes did ta make demselves pop outta 'da ground like dat, i reckon we don't have 'da tools ta get rid uv all uv im. We might need a burna ta kill im all."
Gorggat nodded and huffed in agreement. However, he turned his head upward and began smelling something. "Huh. Speak'n uv burnaz, do ya smell someth'n?"
Grashnik turned his head up and smelled the air too. "... Oh! smells like someone's been kook'n!"
Gorggat looked at the fire pit to find what had been making that smell. "... Oh. Looks like wun uv 'da snots tripped into 'da fire." His eyes then spotted a blood trail that led from the fire pit to Brent's cage. Brent didn't like the look Gorggat was giving him. "Or maybe not. Oi! brent 'da slime git! ya saw someth'n happen ere?"
The surrounding snotlings smiled broadly as the slime was put under the limelight, elated by the thought of one of their brothers being avenged by their master.
Brent paused for a few seconds before coming up with an answer. "You wouldn't believe me even if I told you."
Gorggat's brows furrowed at Brent. "I'll be 'da judge uv dat. Tell me wat happened, or i will kook ya alive."
Brent sighed. "Well, you told your little snotling guys to not eat me, right?"
"Yeah?" Gorggat replied.
"Well one of them decided that they weren't gonna eat me. Instead, one of them decided to poke me with a pointy stick." Brent explained.
Gorggat nodded. "Oh, I fink ya means da fire pokin' snot."
"I told him to stop many times, but he kept on poking me despite my requests. After, like, thirty times or something, I decided to bite him."
"Ya bit him?" Gorggat asked in a surprised tone.
Brent nodded. "It was just one bite, but it was enough to scare him into not poking me with his stick again."
Gorggat blinked. Brent could tell that Gorggat's brain was processing too many thoughts at once. "So ya scared him into da fire pit?"
Brent nodded again. "Yes. And that's my story."
There was a long pause before Gorggat decided to let out a chuckle. "Yer know wot? yer're right! i don't believe ya. Da only bug-eyed wobbly slimes 'dat i know kan hurt me are dose blue spiky ones. And as fer yaself, ya ain't very spiky at all. Or scary look'n."
The surrounding snotlings frowned in dismay as the slime told the story on what happened to their brother, with their elation brought low by Gorggat's dismissal of Brent's alibi.
Brent smiled. "Also, I am adorable."
Gorggat scoffed. "Naaah, ya're not. I'd prefa squigs ova slimes as adorable pets."
Grashnik took many of the pink plorts he collected and dropped them in the cooking pot over the fire pit. "If ya two are done gobb'n at each other, i got some questions i want ta ask Brent."
Gorggat grumbled an approximation of what sounded like a 'go ahead' as he decided to sharpen his sword. Or 'choppa' as he called it. Brent turned to Grashnik. "I guess I can spare you some answers. What questions do you have?" Brent asked.
"We met some new types uv bug-eyed wobbly slimes tonight." Grashnik explained. "'der's gray ones 'dat look like kitty kats. Den 'der's da glowy ones ya kalled phosphor slimes. Den 'der's 'da blue spiky ones. But den 'der are, like, loads uv dose of you whitish-red slimes. How kome 'der are so many slimes all uv a sudden? Ya know someth'n bout dat?"
Brent couldn't shrug, but he sighed instead. "You mean the tabby slimes, rock slimes, and pink slimes? To be fair, I have no idea there were so many in this area. Unfortunately, I don't know why they are spawning here too."
"Ya don't know, huh? so dey're jus invad'n dis property for no reason?" Grashnik questioned.
"Many slimes are drawn to food, so they tend to gather where the food is. I guess that mushroom patch in the forest behind your shack has a lot of tasty stuff to eat." Brent explained.
"Is that right?" Grashnik said, stirring the contents of the cooking pot. "So wot do ya slimes eat?"
"Depends on the type of slime they- I mean we are." Brent explained. "Rock slimes like to eat veggies, tabby slimes like to eat meat, phosphor slimes like to eat fruit, and pink slimes eat veggies, fruit, and meat."
"Mm." Grashnik took out a spoonful of soup out of the cooking pot and slurped it up. "So eh... Do slimes eat mushrooms an' fungi?"
Brent thought about it for a moment. "Hmm... I guess mushrooms would be considered part of the vegetables food group. So... yeah, they would be eaten by rock slimes and pink slimes."
Grashnik snarled. "'Dat might be a problem. If dey eat everyth'n 'dat grows an' komes outta our mushroom patch, den 'da bug-eyed wobbly slimes would eat us outta our home ere. We'd be starvin' soon!" Grashnik turned to Gorggat. "Gorggat, I fink we gotta send a message ta da warboss. Tell 'em dese slimes are eat'n up everyth'n ere."
"Ya rememba da last time we sent anyth'n ta Big Boss Bonebita? 'e ordered wun uv his nobs ta move us ta dis fish'n spot. We've been liv'n ere eva since." Gorggat said, crossing his arms.
"Oh yeah..." Grashnik said as he placed a heavy hand on his chin. "Wot did we do ta get ourselves shipped out ere again?"
Gorggat looked to the left and right before answering. "Whateva it was, it had noth'n ta do wit' 'da gitfinda 'dat i proudly own."
Grashnik shook his head. "Well whateva incident 'dat made us get ordered ta stay 'n dis fish'n shack here no longa mattaz. We need ta kontact our boss, Nobbytoof, and tell im about da slimes."
Gorggat chuckled and dismissed Grashnik. "Wot are yer gobb'n on about? if we kan't eat all 'da mushrooms an' squigs we want, we kan eat 'da slimes instead! 'da blue rock ones might be mighty ard an' pointy, but 'der are a lot uv dose pink slimes we kan put 'n our kook'n pot." Gorggat then turned to Brent, a look of brutal cunning simmering in his eyes. "But den 'der's 'da matta regard'n brent ere. 'e's seems awfully smart, 'e wounded wun uv our snots, an' I'z gett'n 'da feel'n 'dat 'e's not tell'n us everyth'n about da slimes an dis planet. I'm fink'n dere might be more like him out dere somewheres."
Brent wasn't sure how to respond to that. He initially thought that Gorggat and Grashnik were a bunch of dullards, but their personalities played off of each other's mental strengths in ways that surprised Brent. And now, the two orks were wary of Brent and his intelligence. And worse, they might get the idea to search for Brent's friends. The thought of Gorggat and Grashnik finding and trapping Tiffany, Samantha, and Robert in cages made Brent feel a sense of dread.
A bashing sound was heard outside of the shack, which made its shoddy walls shake around briefly.
Gorggat looked up at the shack's ceiling suddenly. "Wot?! did a branch fall on 'da roof or something?!"
Afterwards, several thunderous impacts landed on the ork shack, threatening to flatten the building to the ground.
Grashnik ran to pick up his spear. "'dat ain't no branch! i fink we iz be'n attacked!
Gorggat smiled a toothy smile as he picked up his choppa. "Ooh, okay den! let's attack dese gits right back! Time fer sum fun!"
As Gorggat and Grashnik flew out the front door, Brent caught a glimpse of something he'd somewhat expected to see. Largo slimes. They were launching themselves high into the air, and Brent guessed they were launching themselves at the shack in an attempt to break it open. However, all that did was alert the orks that were living inside the shack. Brent was unable to see the battle ensue between the slimes and the orks, since a bunch of snotlings came to the door and closed it.
"oi! dese bug-eyed wobbly slimes are bigga!" "yeah, i noticed! dey seem tougha too! are dey want'n ta fight us?" "oi! grah! dey're try'n ta stomp us!" "oh no yer don't! orks are 'da ones dat do 'da stomp'n around ere!"
And that was when Brent noticed the window of opportunity that was presented before him.
The snotlings were busy closing the door.
Gorggat and Grashnik were busy fighting the largo slimes.
Brent had no ork or gretchin or snotling paying attention to him.
He decided to make his escape right then and there.
He squished himself past the thick iron bars of his cage and slipped out.
Brent escaped the cage!
Now that Brent has loosed himself, he will need to find a way out of the orks' fishing shack. The shack itself was made of shoddy metal and other materials, and he hoped that he could find a hole that led outside. Brent saw a glimpse of moonlight from a hole in one of the walls of the shack, so he moved towards it, taking the chance to leave the ork shack. Excited chittering called out behind Brent, which warned him that the snotlings discovered that the cage Brent left was empty, and was now aware of his escape.
But it was too late for them to do anything about it once Brent found the hole that led outside the shack. It was smaller than the head of a snotling, but Brent pushed himself through it.
The cold night air greeted Brent as he left the shack, but he also met several largos after having left the shack. Their eyes were fixated upon the orks that attacked them earlier. They payed little attention to Brent, though one or two diverted their attention to him only briefly before they focused back on the orks, or continued attacking the fishing shack. Brent didn't dare to stop and say "thank you" to the largos. He began fleeing, slipping and sliding away from the ork shack. He began to head toward the ocean.
Once Brent got himself into the salty sea, he looked back onto the shore. The orks were fighting a tough battle with the largo slimes, and they seemed to be merrily invested in the fight. Gorggat's choppa plunged and sliced, while Grashnik's spear pierced and stabbed, and both were terrifyingly powerful with their attacks, fighting like battle-hungry war machines. The rock slimes gave the orks some trouble, as their rock crowns proved to be too dense and tough for their weapons to damage. And if they did attack the rock largos, they would be wounded by their spiky crowns. However, the gathering of pink largos swarmed the orks still. They leapt up into the air and landed heavily on the orks, and they smothered them with bites and sharp rock crowns. It was due to the overwhelming numbers of the slime largos that the orks finally fell in battle.
Brent saw that the orks were defeated by the slimes. The slimes secured their victory by biting off the limbs of the orks and segmenting their torsos in half. Afterwards, the largos then began assailing the orks' fishing shack once more. They launched themselves high into the air and began hammering onto the shack's roof. Eventually, the slimes made the shack's roof cave-in, and the snotlings hiding inside were all summarily hunted and consumed.
Brent sighed. At least he was no longer a captive to those orks. But then again, Brent's gaze lingered on the multitude of largos that now populated the beach. He recognized none of them, and the thought of never finding Tiffany, Samantha, or Robert again worried him.
At least he had the motion of the ocean to calm him and his senses.
A/N: Yeah, those orks were planning to eat Brent anyway.