Chapta Fifteen: Squigopolis

Chapta Fifteen: Squigopolis

Brudz felt something prodding her in the side. "Wake up!" Orlen grumbled, jabbing her with his boot. "Time ter get movin' ya bed-wettin' baby."

"I aint wet me bed since… Oi, ow… OW!" As Brudz woke up she became aware of the pain all over her body. "What da freakin'… Dammit, bloody tigah claws!"

The Snakebite Mek laughed gruffly as he walked away. "Hur, hur, hur… looks like yew'll need ta see da Dok."

"Ow, ow, ow…" Brudz tried to pull off a clump of the cactus, but only managed to jab her fingers in the process; the spikes were very unwilling to be disturbed. "Oh, wait… Cezzy-Po!"

She limped off cussing; she had failed to find her sister the night before and feared the Dok might have been killed or gotten lost. The disappearance of Cezzy-Po made Brudz very anxious; who else would stitch her cuts when she stacked her bike? Who would make that fantastic fighting juice? Who would give her a discounted squig-hair transplant? Was there even another Dok capable of tranquilising Jamz when he required armour maintenance? What would Brudz do, if her sister was dead? There was no one else she trusted that was sadistic enough to cleanse her wounds with salt, iodine or Detol. Despite the pain, Brudz had always recovered well thanks to Cezzy-Po; and there was no way the Mek would put iodine or salt onto her wounds by herself.

"Cezzy-Po!" Brudz called out as she limped around the camp. She came across Uurgrin, Oric, Jamz and the other Nobs and asked them, "'az anyone seen da Dok?"

"looks like someone slept in a bad spot." Oric grinned amused at Brudz. "If yew want a brain transplant, dat's understandable. Hur, hur!"

"Shut yer mouf," Brudz grumbled.

"Dat's no way ter talk to a bigga Ork," Jamz snarled. "An' Cezzy aint missin', she's over dere, under da bushes. Are yer blind?"

Uurgrin plucked a prickle from Brudz' head, ripping some of her skin off. "Go wake 'er up, we gotta go."

Brudz instinctively went to put her hand on her head but only managed to get her hand stuck to the spikes. "Ow! Bloody hell… Okay."

Sure enough, when Brudz walked over and lifted the branches of the brush, she saw Cezzy-Po curled up with Squiggy sitting beside her, with a scalpel clenched in his fist (his middle digit was still stuck in the raised position).

"When did yew get back?" Brudz said looking stunned. She poked Squiggy with a spiky boot, causing the beast to wake up squealing; Cezzy-Po awoke sleepily from the noise.

"What… why we gotta get up… I wanna shleep some more…" Cezzy-Po said sleepily, rubbing her eyes with her fist.

"Where da heck were ya last night? I looked ev'rywhere!" Brudz scolded the Dok. "An' why's yew dressed like a Goff, in dem black fings? Aye, wait, iz dere a pub near 'ere yew didn't tell me about? Did yew go off fer a late night pub crawl wivout me?"

Cezzy-Po crawled out from under the bush and picked Squiggy up. She took the scalpel from her pet. "Yew seen Ongrat?" She asked.

"Stop avoidin' me question!" Brudz growled angrily. "An' I don't know where Ongrat iz – hopefully ee got eatin' by da hooge snake in 'iz sleep."

"Where's Ongrat?" Cezzy demanded, looking around with her hand shielding her eyes from the morning sun and ignoring her sister's question. "I gots a present fer 'im!"

"Yer got a wha' fer 'im?" Brudz asked unable to believe what she heard.

"A present!" Cezzy repeated, begging to quiver in excitement. "Hee! Hee! Hee! I found it last night when I woz out fer a walk."

"So dat's why yew woz missin'!" Brudz fumed. "Yew coulda told me! Or at least some one! I went out lokkin' fer ya, finkin' yew woz dead, or lost! An' wot's da present, anyway? Yew c'n at least show me, afta all, I almost got eaten alive by some big ugly serpent lookin' fer yew, ya ungrateful scapel-tottin' hooligan."

"Sounds like you mighta met 'im b'fore," Cezzy grinned.

"'Course I've met 'im b'fore, Ee's da Snakebite's Weirdboy! Ugliest Ork evah ter walk da planet, hur, hur."

Cezzy narrowed her eyes as her hand slid into her pocket. "C'mere, so we c'n get dose painful lookin' spikies outta ya. Hurrr…"

Brudz backed away muttering," why's I got a bad feelin' 'bout dis…" She watched as her sister pulled a pair of red handled pliers from her pocket. "An' why's yer got a pair ov pliers? 'Ey wait a minute… doze are MY pliers! When did yew steal dem?"

The Dok lunged forward with the pliers and clamped a piece of the tiger claw stuck in Brudz' cheek before her sister was able to escape. "Hee! Hee! Hee!" She cackled like a witch. "I'm gonna enjoy removin' ev'ry last prickle. Yew know why dey're so painful?"

"Why?" Brudz asked, trying to pull her cheek free, but the spikes refused to dislodge.

"Because dese cactus spikes are cunnin' liddle pricks," Cezzy's evil grin spread wider. "Da spikes are kinda like arrow 'eads or fishin' 'ooks. Dey're covered in tiny oppositely spiked which point in da uver direcshen to da actual cactus spike, so when dey get stabbed inta somefin', dey catch on yer flesh when yer try ta pull 'em out."

"Great," Brudz sighed. "So dey're just like yew – 'urty an' sadistic."

Cezzy yanked the small tiger claw clump from Brudz' cheek, making her sister snort with pain. "Dere now, only anuver few 'undred spikes left ter remove, hee! Hee! Hee!"

Brudz' cheek stung as if she'd been bitten by a bull ant. "Be gentle!" She hissed.

The Dok reserved no mercy; she ripped spikes and clumps of cactus from her sister's hide enthusiastically, giggling like a maniac. A symphony of shrieks and swearing echoed through the camp which attracted a small group of bored onlookers. Ongrat and Orlen were among them.

"I shoulda threw 'er ina patch of cactuses sooner," Ongrat laughed. "Dis iz fun ta watch har, har, har…"

As the audience grew, the Dok put more effort into making her sister scream. "Oh look," she said pointing to her sister's arm pit. "Dat looks like a nasty place ter 'ave tiger claws, hee, hee…"

Brudz tried to fend her sister off; but with one hand still stuck to the top of her head, she was extremely disadvantaged. "No! No! Not wiv all dem Snakebites watchin'! No! AAAAH! AAAAAAAAH! 'URTY! 'URTY! Oo, hee hee, dat tickles… AAAAAAH!"

Orks erupted with applause and gruff laughter; some even threw a few teef to Cezzy-Po. One of the Nobz bellowed, "Har! Har! Har! Hur! Hur! Hur! I like dat Dok, we should ask da Boss if we c'n keep 'er! She'll grow ta make a real good Paingirl!"

Cezzy-Po kept ripping out the spikes heartily; Brudz on the other hand felt like she had just been slapped to the ground and sat on by a Squiggoth. Her suspicions were beginning to come to light…

Stuck between being numbed and horrified, Brudz made an effort to stop screaming; she clenched her teeth shut as her sister pulled out the spikes. Even for the most painful removals she did little more than squeak. Eventually the crowd began to disperse; when all of the Orks had left, Brudz talked to her sister.

"Would yer really leave da Evil Sunz ter join dese backwards finkin' bucket-ov-vomit clan?" She asked, unable to hide her resent. "Yew look like yew've never been 'appier wiv 'em."

"Dey aint az bad az yew fink," Cezzy said focusing on a deeply embedded spike. "Yew jus' don't like 'em coz dey don't 'ave much in da way ov dakka."

"Dakka aint got nuffin' ter do wiv it – okay maybe jus' a little. Grrr…" Brudz winced as several spikes were ripped out in succession. "… I've felt like I've been walked all ovuh eva since we landed in dere settlement. Dey aint got no respect fer an Ork like me!"

Cezzy-Po paused and looked her sister in the eyes. Her bottom lip quivered and she began to snicker. "An' Ork like… ah har, har, har! An' Ork like yoo-hoo! Hoo! Hee, hee, hee! Har! Har! Har! Har! An Ork like… AH! HAR! HAR! HAR! HEE! HEE! HEE! Snort! Oh, yer so funny, hee, hee, hee…"

"IT AINT FUNNY!" Brudz bellowed, grabbing the pliers off of her sister and pointing them in her face. "I'm a MEK! An' I get treated like a lowly filfy GRETCHIN'! I know I aint dat big, but I's good at fixin' dere fings! An' da fanks I get? I get ter be dis clan's FLOOR MAT!"

Spittle covered Cezzy-Po's face; she wiped it off with the hem of her coat as she recalled what Mumzy told her about her younger spore-sister. The isolation from the clans really had left the Mek a little uneducated about some of the most important key factors to Ork society… as amusing as it was, it was also a pain. Things would have to change.

"Yer fink yew'll be treated any different when we getz to our tribe?" Cezzy asked her sister, resisting the temptation to hack the Mek's head open and poke her brain with something sharp.

The Ork didn't answer; she just grunted and looked slightly wary as if her sister was trying to trick her or something.

"Well yer won't be!" Cezzy yelled. "Yew'll be treated like a floor mat till yer get bigga! Or scarier - But mostly bigga!"

"I doubt yew'll even see our tribe again." Brudz snarled and walked away with the pliers gripped tightly in her hand. "Oo needs yew anyway? I c'n fix meself! Any moron c'n pull cactus spikes out ov dere skin!"

A warm wind began to blow tendrils of dust over the red dirt and gravel. Cezzy stood alone by the shrubs fuming; clumps of tiger claw cactuses littering the ground. She had inherited very little patience. After a few minutes she walked off to find Ongrat; it was time to give him his present before they headed off. It didn't take her long to locate the Weirdboy; sparks were flying around his head.

"Oi," Cezzy called out, "Ongrat!"

The Weirdboy was chatting with some of his clan members; he looked around and immediately held his hand up. "Don't come too close," he ordered. "Yew'll give me a bad case ov flatulence. An' I don't want no 'eads explodin'."

"What? Oh, right," Cezzy-Po said remembering how Ongrat dealt with unwanted surges of Waagh! energy. "Well, c'n yer… uh – dere's somefin' of yours in da gully over dere…"

Ongrat thought about what he could have possibly lost; he didn't own anything except a metal staff, a bunch of cow bells, and the furs he wore. Curious, he headed over to the gully leaving his friends to talk amongst themselves. He looked down into the shrub-encrusted ditch and saw the distinct glimmer of reptilian scales. Ongrat breathed in sharply as a large snake reared up out of the shrubs; its head was half the size of the Weirdboy, and its body was as thick as a tree trunk.

"Surprise!" Cezzy shouted startling Ongrat. "I knew yew liked snakes, so I got yer da biggest one I could find!"

Cezzy-Po walked over to a rock and untied a rope which was tied to makeshift muzzle binding the Snake's jaws shut. "Aint he a beauty?" She said admirably.

Ongrat was stunned into silence. The snake seemed familiar for some reason… it looked suspiciously similar to what Brudz had described. "How did… where did… dat's just… zoggin' 'ell dats one big snake!"

"I named 'im Jawge, hee, hee!" Cezzy pulled on the rope and the snake came closer, leveling its head with Ongrat's and starring him in the eyes.

'Jawge' hissed at Ongrat, sniffing him with a flicker of its forked blue tongue. A row of spines lay flat along the snake's spine, twitching slightly as it inspected the Ork Weirdboy.

"'Ee won't attack yer," Cezzy said handing the rope over to Ongrat. "Jawge learnt dat bein' snappy to 'iz owner means 'ee gets a floggin'. Oh, an' yew c'n ride 'im. Jus' sit on 'iz back and pull da rope which eva way yer want Jawge ter sliver. Now, let's get movin', shall we?"

Unsure how to deal with a present of such magnitude, Ongrat silently lead Jawge by the rope back to camp. One by one the Orks stopped what they were doing to stare in amazement at the colossal snake being led through the horde.

Only one Ork screamed. "OH MY ZOGGIN' GOD! WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE! AAAAAAAAAH! AAAAAAAH! AAAAAH!" Brudz fainted soon after seeing Jawge.

Jawge slithered near the front of the Ork horde as they trudged through the red dusty desert. There were no signs of clouds and everyone sweated profusely; the stench would have been over powering to anyone that wasn't an Ork. Even Jawge stopped licking the air with his tongue.

Cezzy-Po, Squiggy and Ongrat sat on Jawge's back. The snake didn't object to having passengers, which made Ongrat even more suspicious. He had identified the viper as a Desert Python. Despite the snake being a constrictor, it did still posses a venomous bite – the venom temporarily paralyzed the victim, and helped to digest it. The Snakebite tribe had possessed several of these reptiles before the explosion, but none had been as large as Jawge.

"Cezzy-Po…" Ongrat muttered looking straight ahead.

"Yes?" The Dok asked leaning forward, eager to please the Weirdboy.

Ongrat held back a shudder; he wasn't fond of having a Dok prone to violent mood swings sitting behind him. "How did yew catch da snake?"

Cezzy-Po had been prepared for this question; she had sensed Ongrat had been pondering it since he first laid eyes on Jawge. "Can't tell yer," She grinned and leant back looking extremely pleased with herself. Squiggy crawled up onto her shoulder snorting. "Okay, okay, Squiggy's convinced me to tell yer jus' a little bit. I used a super secret something to do something super secret."

"Oh really?" Ongrat replied sarcastically. "I would never 'ave guessed."

At the very back of the line, far from the giant snake as was possible, Orlen was dragging Brudz' mangled bike by the ropes slung over his shoulders. The Evil Sunz Mek sat on the wreck muttering angrily to herself while extracting the tiger claws. Every now and then she would throw a clump at Orlen if he got too close to the snake or if she over heard him cursing at her under his breath. He wasn't sure what had the girl so irked but he wasn't game enough to ask.

For the first time that day though, she asked him a question. "'Ow'd yew get so big? Did yer 'ave ter eat a lot've pies?"

Orlen rethought the question in his mind before answering carefully. "Oh, well… ter grow outwards, yeh, eat lotsa pies. But ta grow upwards, yew gotta exhert yer dominance… yew know, fightin', killin', arguin', an' pushin' uvvers around. It takes time. But…"

"But what?" Brudz asked suspiciously.

"Well… I 'eard girls don't grow as fast as boys, dat's all." Orlen braced himself for the impact of another tiger claw; but it never came. "Woz dere… uh, somefin' buggin' yew?"

The young Mek flung a small tiger claw onto the ground; she grunted with pain. "No."

Deciding it was best not to push the subject Orlen nodded. "Okey dokey den."

It was late noon by the time the Snakebites saw their first glimpse of Squigopolis; they saw buildings on the horizon. Orlen wondered if Brudz waz even still there; he hadn't heard anything from her for the past few hours. When he looked back Brudz hadn't moved; she was quietly removing the last of the prickles from her clothes with her back to him. Orlen decided to enjoy the peace while it lasted and kept pulling the bike along without a word of conversation.

As the Snakebites approached the outskirts of Squigopolis the smells and noise of the city grew stronger and stronger. The scents of other Orks, squigs, smoke, food, grime and oil mixed together an overpowering odor, and the hubbub of the inner city constantly echoed around the outskirts.

There were no defensive walls around the outskirts of Squigopolis like there had been at the Snakebite's settlement; it was more like a larger, busier version of Tam'urt. Orks of many clans lived in the city but there were just as many freebooters roaming about who belonged to no clan. Squigopolis was a capital city of no specific allegiance which had become famous for its squig festivals. Squig breeders from all over the country would gather to buy, sell, and enter their squigs into competitions.

Merchants approached the Snakebites offering a variety of goods for sale. Many successful sales were made; thanks to the Goffs, most of the Snakebites were temporarily rich and didn't hesitate to trade-up for better equipment, items, and indulge in some fancy foods on offer. Even Cezzy-Po was getting in on the action.

"What about dis one den, eh? Nice an' sharp, yeah. Not too bent, eiver; I got dis off anuver Dok. 'Ee upgraded to a an electric one."

Cezzy frowned; she already had a pizza cutter. And hers looked better anyway. "Yew got anymore ov dem electric ones left?" She asked.

The Merchant slipped the pizza cutter back into his bag. "Nah, sorry, sold da last one. Yew interested in anew set of scalpels?"

"I've got plenty of scalpels," Cezzy replied. "But do yer 'ave any razors blades?"

Eager to sell something, the merchant rummaged through his back of goodies. "Da type dat oomies shave dere 'eads wiv, or da type emos cut dere wrists wiv?"

"Da second one."

"Yep, I got 'em. 'Ere, take a look." He handed Cezzy-Po a box of steel razor blades; they looked a bit rusty, and some were chipped, but she decided to take them anyway. She handed over three teeth, and the Merchant moved onto the next person. "Tell all yer buddies about me, hur, hur."

Eventually Uurgrin ordered his tribe to keep moving bellowing out, "There'll be time fer spendin' teef later, but fer now, we gotta find a place ter set up camp."

The merchants walked away unhappily, but they didn't want to argue with the Snakebite's boss. The tribe followed Uurgrin towards the inner city until he stopped beside a vacated block which was blackened with soot from an old bonfire.

"Dis'll be our camp site," Uurgrin announced. "I know it's small, but it's better den campin' out in da desert. I don't care what yer all do – go inta da city or whateva - but make sure yer all back 'ere in da mornin' – my senior Nobz are ter stay 'ere for a short while. I want ter 'ave a meetin'. Jamz an' Oric yew join in too."

Brudz walked up to Orlen and held her hand out. "Gimme da bike now. An' don't ferget, yew gotta fix da wartrakk."

Orlen handed her the ropes. "But I got a meetin' wiv da Boss."

"Well, do it afta da meetin'." Brudz shouldered the ropes and began to drag her bike onto the empty block.

She worked on her bike until she was forced to stop when the light faded and the sky lit up with stars. Uurgrin was still speaking to his Nobz across the road behind a half-collapsed brick wall; Brudz wondered what could possibly take three hours to talk about. She also found it suspicious Uurgrin had specifically requested that her brother and Oric join the meeting. It was tempting to sneak over and listen in…

After contemplating the pros and cons of suck a task, Brudz decided it was worth the risk of being caught and brutally punished. She looked around; in the dim light she saw Cezzy-Po over at the other side of the block, sitting beside Jawge who was curled up. Besides Uurgrin and his Nobz, there were no other Orks in sight. When she was certain the coast was clear, she crept low across the empty block. As she reached the road she got to her belly and crawled towards the crumbled wall; she could hear snatches of the meeting as she got closer.

"… hur, hur, hur, dat's funny."

"Dat's got nuffin ter do wiv what we woz talkin' 'bout lads. Get back on track! Yer all got da attenshen span of a flea."

"Yeah! Shud up an' listen to yer boss! 'Ee woz talkin' 'bout yer tribe's fewcha!"

"Shut yer maw, yer big ugly tin can, we only takes orders from Uurgrin!"

"TALK TER ME LIKE DAT AGAIN 'N' WE'LL SEE 'OO'S STRONGER!"

"STOP YER FIGHTIN'! Save it fer later lads, or I'll crack yer 'eads open. An' da next Ork 'oo talks before bein' told ter, gets dere tongue ripped out fer free. What I woz gonna say b'fore yew all started tellin' dirty jokes woz dat we, as a tribe, don't 'ave a fewcha unless we c'n some'ow find new Snakebites or become immoral."

"Dontcha mean 'immortal', boss?"

"Orlen, if yew weren't da last Mek my tribe's got, den I'd be brutally hacking away at yew wiv me axe. But yew are, so I'm jus' gonna ask yer real nicely… SHUT YER PIE' OLE!"

"Sorry boss…"

"If anyone else interrupts me… anyway, where woz I? Oh yeah. I don't forsee our tribe getting' any larger any time soon; an' dere's no way on I'd even consider joinin' tribes wiv me bruvver. Now, I aint a coward, but dere aint no way we c'n survive another attack from da Goffs. It woz only fanks ter Gork an' Mork dat we managed ter win dat last battle – an' only at a huge cost. Our settlement's flattened, an' we lost fwree quarters or more ov our lads. I've got an idea, but it doubt it's gonna make yer all happy. But dat's why I'm boss – coz I c'n tell yer all what ter do coz I'm bigga an' meaner. An' smarter. But mostly bigga an' meaner."

Cezzy-Po said somefin' like dat earlier… Brudz thought, contemplating Uurgrin's words. Ee got ter be Boss coz ee's bigga an' meaner…an' smarter – or so ee says. I don't fink Cezzy-Po mentioned da smarter bit. But den again, she an' Uurgrin seems ter fink bein' bigga an' meaner iz da most important bit about getting' da respect ov da uvver Orks.

"What woz I talkin' 'bout again?"

"Some idea yer 'ad dat yew says's gonna make some ov us un'appy, Boss."

"Oh yeah, dat's right. Jamz, yer Boss, what's 'is name?"

"Gotshik Buguts Frag'ead, ee really likes stikkbomz, hur, hur."

"Yeah, I remember 'im now… Jamz, I want me tribe ter travel wiv yew ter yer camp. I want ter ask yer Boss if ee'd consider an alliance."

Silence fell over the crowd; even Brudz was left stunned. Uurgrin spoke again saying, "Well, I did day yew lot probly wouldn't be 'appy about it."

Truthfully, Brudz had not snuck over to hear about some alliance between Uurgrin's Snakebites and Gotshik's Evil Sunz. As interesting and flabbergasting as the conversation was, she wanted to hear whether Uurgrin really was considering taking Cezzy-Po into his clan. Brudz devised a simple plan which would take advantage of the Snakebite's 'attenshen span of a flea'. She scurried quietly around the crumbled wall until she was at the back of the meeting.

When nobody was looking she poked her head in through a window space and in as deep a voice as she could conjure, said aloud "what about da Dok?" And quickly retracted, hiding behind the wall again.

The Orks all started muttering.
"Yeah, what about da Dok?"

"Oo's talkin' 'bout me sistah?"

"I'm 'ungry. Can we go now?"

"ALL OV YER SHUT UP! Somebody already brought dat subject up. See what I mean 'bout da attenshen span ov a flea? If yer too shtupid ter rememba what woz discussed, den what's da point repeatin' it? Yew'll probly jus' ferget it again. Hurrr… I am feelin' 'ungry too. Alright boyz, let's call it a night – Jamz, Oric, fink about what I've said. Ev'rybody, we'll 'ave anuver meetin' tomorrow evenin'. Till den, do whatever yer want."

Brudz hid behind a pile of ruble beside the wall as the Orks dispersed from the meeting. She cursed silently; she wished she had been a little quicker to eaves drop. The thought that her sister had been brought up at the meeting made her anger spike; she wanted to know what was said. The Orks may have just been praising their makers that the Dok was present at the battle to stitch up injuries, or perhaps they were making jokes; but Brudz worried that the Snakebites wanted to make her part of their tribe. She wouldn't know though unless she could somehow inconspicuously probe a member of the meeting.

Four such Orks came to her mind first; Jamz, Oric, Ongrat and Orlen. After carefully considering which of the four would be best to question she decided upon Jamz. He was the easiest to get information out of, and being her and Cezzy-Po's brother, would hopefully be more than willing to spill the beans if what was discussed at the meeting about the Dok was less than pleasing to him.

Brudz looked about before leaving the meeting site incase any of the Nobz were lingering about. Most had headed for the inner city and were walking down the road; all except for Jamz, Oric, Uurgrin, Orlen and Ongrat. She was surprised to see them settling down at the camp site stacking bits of timber to start a fire; it would be impossible to question Jamz while he had company – not without arousing suspicion among the others at any rate. This annoyed her immensely as she trudged back towards the campsite. Brudz paused at the curb; no one had seen her approaching yet, and the fire wasn't lit… she wondered if this was perhaps a better opportunity than the meeting to find out if Uurgrin wanted to steal Cezzy-Po from her. If Jamz had any protests, he would be more than likely to blab about it while Uurgrin was there.

Silently she thanked Gork and Mork for providing an opportunity to spy. She looked around for anything she could use as cover; there wasn't much on the burnt out block except for a few piles of scraps. She snuck over to the closest one; in it was a metal canister which someone had used to light a fire in. Deciding it would be better than hiding behind a charred plank of wood she dug it out quietly. She emptied the debris out of the barrel onto the ground and put it over her head; if she hunched over and bent her knees, it covered her entirely. Perfect.

Flickering orange light woke Cezzy-Po from her doze; Jawge uncurled when he detected heat from the fire and lifted his head to scent the air with a flicker of his tongue.

"Let's go sit wiv 'em," Cezzy said to Jawge picking up his lead. "It's getting' cold. Huh? What's dat…"

Across the block Cezzy-Po saw a metal barrel shuffling closer to the fire, pausing now and then until it seemed to stop a few meters from Uurgrin and the others. Curious, the Dok decided to go and investigate. Maybe there was some kind of hideous creature which required surgery in the barrel…

She walked over towards the barrel with Jawge close behind. Jamz spotted her and greeted the Dok in his usual fashion. "Bring me some beer!"

"I aint got none," Cezzy replied walking past the Orks. "An' b'fore yer ask, no, I aint got food, eiver."

Jamz grumbled but didn't persist; instead he went back to talking with Uurgrin. As Cezzy-Po approached the barrel it quivered slightly - there was definitely something inside.

Just as Cezzy was inches away, Jamz spoke to her again making her jump with fright. "Where's yer sister? Dat runt needs ter fix da wartrakk."

"Oh, I's gonna fix dat…" Orlen spoke. "It woz part of da deal."

"What deal?" Oric demanded. "No offence Orlen, but dat wartrakk means a lot ter me – I don't want some Mek oo's only ev'r worked on electwik piggies ter go messin' wiv dat wondrous piece ov dakka."

Orlen growled but Uurgrin raised his hand to silence him. "Sort it out later boyz, I don't want anuver argument ter start. It woz bad enough dat Frakzet intarupted me fwree times in da meetin' coz ee fawt we were talkin' 'bout iz spore muvver. Bloody twit needs ter clean iz ears out."

Once Cezzy-Po was sure Jamz had forgotten about her she lifted up the barrel and looked under; nothing was there. She walked around the other side and did the same thing – still she saw nothing. The Dok wasn't going to give up that easily – she walked back around to the front and with a heave she tipped the barrel over. She leant over and looked in; Brudz was wedged inside.

"Aaah! Bloody hell." Cezzy said looking disappointed. "I woz 'oppin' it woz somefin' else. But what are yer doin' in a barrel, Brudz? Looks a bit cramped in dere."

"I fawt I smelt somefin' bad," Ongrat sneered. "Stop eaves droppin' yer little whelp."

Brudz crawled out of the barrel and stood up, dusting her clothes. "I wasn't eaves droppin'," she protested, "I woz, um… findin' somewhere warm ter sleep. Nice an' warm in dat barrel, yeh. Yep, yep, yeh… an' rain proof, too. Heh heh…"

"Is it really warm id dere?" Cezzy-Po asked inspecting the barrel.

"Uh, sure…" Brudz stood the barrel back up and rolled it closer to Cezzy. "Might uh… make a nice bed, or somefin'. Maybe even a helmet fer Jawge…"

The ensuing ten minutes consisted of Brudz being yelled at by Uurgrin and Jamz about 'why eaves droppin' iz bad fer yer healf'. Their point was proven when Jamz booted her so hard she flew across the road and landed on a pile of bricks.

"Dat woz 'mean!" Cezzy-Po protested. "Yew 'orrible git! Coulda waited 'till dawn, so I could see it properly."

"Yew wanna learn ter fly, too?" Jamz snarled glaring down at the Dok. She shook her head. "Den SHUT up!"