Chapta Nineteen: Scar Poka Showdown

Chapta Nineteen: Scar Poka Showdown!

Say of Da Day: "So ladz, yer feelin' lucky today?" – Kargust, Waaghboss of the southern Goffs tribe

The Dok had devised a cunning plan to make her spore sister return to the camp and leave Shilf's workshop… if Ongrat didn't ruin it. She knew Brudz hated Ongrat… but loved playing Scar Poka. Combining the two facts, she put forth her idea to the young Mek: play a tournament consisting of thirteen rounds of Quick Draw Scar Poka against Ongrat and have to the chance to humiliate, hurt, and generally deface the Weirdboy. If Ongrat won, Brudz had to return to the camp and never go back to Shilf's workshop after finishing her bike. If Brudz won, Ongrat had to apologize and Brudz could choose if she stayed with Shilf and the others, or go back to the camp.

Brudz wasn't going to pass down the opportunity to do evil cruel things to Ongrat, even if she knew the stakes were high (in her opinion). Ongrat didn't want to compete in the challenge, but Cezzy-Po quickly changed his mind for him when she threatened to use his brain as an organ donation for Squigsy (she had decided to change his name from Squiggy to Squigsy, because she claimed the new name was more "fitting").

Before agreeing to the challenge, Brudz asked for one more condition to be entered.

"I'll accept the challenge if yew add sumfin' to me win condition: Ongrat 'as ter kiss my bare butt, on both cheeks."

"Well…" Cezzy-Po looked at Ongrat; the Weirdboy looked about ready to kill someone. "Alright, but yew 'ave ter do da same ta Ongrat if 'ee wins."

Brudz and Ongrat glared at each other. "Agreed!" They said together.

Everyone including Shilf listened carefully as Cezzy-Po explained the rules. "Firstly, I will pick four Orks ta be on da 'Poka Committee' – da committee will 'ave da job ov keeping score, an' choosin' da loser's punishment if da two contestants can't agree on sumfin'.

"Secondly, da punishment musht be agreed on b'fore da round starts. If da looser refuzez to take da punishment, dey automatically loose da tournament – no matter 'ow many roundz they've won. Dis also means all firteen rounds must be played. An' da next round must be played wiv in an hour ov da looser getting their punishment; dat's to say, dey 'ave one hour ter recover if dey needs it.

"Firdly, dere's no such fing az cheatin'. Da only fing dat's not allowed iz da cards bein' dealt unfairly. But since I'm gonna be da dealer, we won't 'ave dat problem.

"Fourtherly, if a match is tied, we'll toss beer cap. Dere must be one winner, an' one fat looser fer each round. An' what else woz dere… oh yes, da committee will also deal wiv all disputes which may arise."

Even Ongrat was smiling by the end of it all; contrary to his original reluctance, he was now very eager to participate. "So whens we gettin' started?" He asked the Dok.

"Not right now," Cezzy-Po replied. "We needs ta let Uurgrin know what's 'appenin' so 'ee don't fink we've gone missin'. An' I want 'im ta be on da committee. Da Quick Draw Scar Poka showdown'll start tomorrow mornin'. Shilf, can we 'old it 'ere in yaw workshop?"

All the Burna Boyz bugged Shilf to agree; they wanted to witness the match. Shilf didn't need much persuading though, and approved the arrangement. "Alright, yew c'n hold yer match 'ere. But I want ter be on dis… committee."

The deal was settled. "Sure, I woz gonna ask yer anyway." Cezzy-Po replied. "Me, Ongrat an' da uvers'll be 'ere bright an' early – so yew lot be ready. Yew 'ear me, Brudz? No sleepin' in! We'll need all day fer dis contest…"

Before the sun had risen the next morning, Cezzy-Po and Ongrat were leading Uurgrin, Jamz, Oric and a select group of Snakebites to Shilf's workshop; Uurgrin even allowed Orlen to take the day off from fixing the Wartrakk to witness the competition. The small crowd was in high spirits; all except for Ongrat who was in a foul mood after finding out that Jamz and Oric had eaten his expensive boar.

"Hur, hur, hur, I 'ope yew've all got some teef left ter bet wiv, 'coz I aint lendin' no one any." Uurgrin said as he patted a leather pouch which was hidden beneath his furs. "An' rememba, don't go stirrin' up Ongrat too much – ee might blow da cards away, har, har, har!"

"Shud up, Boss… I ain't gonna blow nuffin' away." Ongrat sneered; he wasn't in the mood for putting up with the torment today.

Meanwhile at Shilf's, the Meks and Burna Boys were beginning to stir from their slumber. The Gretchin cooked everyone's breakfast in the furnace; the smell of squig 'n' mushroom pie made many a mouth water.

The day before, everything in the workshop had been pushed to the walls, except for one bench which was to be the Poka table, and some crates for the 'poka committee' to sit on. Brudz, who had taken to sleeping in the now not-so-crumpled side cart of her bike got up and stretched, yawning wide. Something flew into her mouth, causing her to choke.

"Hkk! Hkk! Bleh! Fleh! Good damn you Glim! Ssffpt!" She coughed and spat out the small flat washer into her hand, and threw it at the culprit who was warming himself by the furnace where the pies were baking.

The washer bounced off Glim harmlessly into the furnace. "I mistook yer big mouf fer a bin," he said with a snicker. "Hur, hur, hur."

Brudz joined Glim at the furnace to warm her stiff bones up. "Do sumfin' like dat again an' I'll mistake yer butt fer somewhere to rest be boot!"

They bought pies from the Gretchin and ate; slowly more and more Orks emerged from their quarters to eat. By the time the sun breached the horizon, the workshop was a beehive of activity and chatter.

Gretchin book keepers were racing around taking bets for the upcoming Poka showdown. One of the Gretchin approached Glim and Brudz. "Yew wanna make a bet? Stakes are f'ree ta one on da Weirdboy an' four ta one on da girl."

"Why's my stake higher? Does yew fink I'll loose?" Brudz pulled the book out of the Gretchin's hands to take a look. "Hmph. I'll win, yew'll see."

The Gretchin snatched his book back. "Ev'ry one reckons da Weirdboy's got it over yew – not my fault! Now are eiver of yew gonna bet? I ain't got all day."

Not willing to risk injury, Glim declined. Brudz on the other hand, bet her last twenty teeth on herself. "Heh. If I win, I'll also be much more richa."

"…an' if yer loose, yew'll be broke, and puckerin' up to dat Weirdboy's arse."

"Glim, do me a favor, an' shut up."

Shilf greeted Uurgrin and his Snakebites, letting the horde into his workshop. The Gretchin sold pies and fungus beer to the new comers, cashing in on the activity while they could. The last bets were laid down, and Cezzy-Po gathered the committee together to brief them before the Poka began. Besides Uurgrin and Shilf, the Dok had chosen Oric and Frakzet, the hearing-impaired Snakebite Nob, to make up the other half.

Brudz and Ongrat took their places either side of the lone workbench, pulling up a stool each. Sparks were already flying around Ongrat's head as he and Brudz glared at each other like two tom cats ready to fight. Their claws gripped the bench, grating against the metal as they waited for Cezzy-Po; it felt like decades before she approached them.

"Now, 'ave yew two fawt of somethin' nasty for da loser ov da first round, mmm?" The Dok asked, shuffling a fresh deck of cards in her hands.

"I say da loser gets tied up while da winner layz inta 'em wiv a steel pipe!" Ongrat suggested, imagining Brudz being beaten into a bloody pulp.

"Well I reckon da looser should get dis fing stuck up dere log 'ole!" Brudz pulled out a small, dented, metal cigar container from her pocket and opened it, tipping its contents onto the metal table. It was a piece tiger claw cactus that she had removed from her hide while on their journey to Squigopolis. "I kept a piece."

Ongrat picked the cactus piece up gingerly and inspected it. "Hur, hur, hur… yeah, alright, you're on."

Cezzy-Po began dealing out the cards. "Alrighty den! Let's begin."

Ongrat and Brudz picked up their cards and evaluated their positions; they didn't make much effort to hide their expressions.

"Deal me four new cards," Brudz snarled, slapping her four discarded cards onto the bench top face down. Her agitation didn't lessen when Cezzy handed her the new cards.

The Weirdboy requested two new cards, smirking across the table at Brudz… until he saw his new cards.

"Alright, let's end da first round" The Dok announced, "an' get to da fun part, heh heh heh…"

With the utmost reluctance the pair laid their hands down for everyone to see. Brudz and Ongrat looked relieved and puzzled, amazed at what they saw. Both hands were identical except for card suits; their hands comprised of a Jack, Ten, Seven, Five and a Three.

"Well, I didn't expect dat ter 'appen on da firsht round," Cezzy said sounding disappointed. "Guess da pain'll 'ave ter wait while we flip a beer lid – it's a tie!"

She dug into her dirty lab coat and pulled out a beer cap. She scratched an 'X' and 'O' on the top and bottom of the cap respectively. "Cross or circle?" She asked Ongrat, with her fingers poised to flip the cap into the air.

"Why don't I get ter pick?" Brudz complained. "Dat's unfair!"

"It aint unfair, it's a good way ter end a tie breaker." Cezzy-Po explained impatiently. "Now shud up Brudz; an' yew 'urry up Ongrat, or winter'll be 'ere b'fore da next round."

"Er, cross." Ongrat mumbled.

"Dat means yew've got circle, Brudz." Cezzy-Po flicked the cap; all eyes were trained on it as it spun in the air, first going up, pausing for a split second at the peak of it's travel, then plummeted down to the ground.

The cap bounced off the cement floor, cart wheeled, and finally came to rest in front of some of the on lookers. Cezzy-Po rushed over before anyone could tamper with the results to benefit their bets.

"Hur, hur… circle! Brudz winz round one."

Elated at taking the victory, Brudz ran around the bench jumping, waving her arms, and frothing at the mouth as she howled and whooped. "Even if I loose da tournament, jus' winnin' dis round makes it all werf it. Yoo-hoo!"

Ongrat was too horrified to reply; the reality of what was going to happen left him numb.

Cezzy walked over to him, pulling a pair of tongs out of her coat and held them out for Brudz. The Mek skipped over and took the tongs, opening the battered cigar container. She plucked the tiger claw cactus clump out, and held it up. "Turn 'round, bend over, an' drop yer daks… don't worry, I'll be gentle. Ah ha-ha-ha!"

Half an hour later, Ongrat was requesting three new cards; the second round had begun. A stack of old tires had replaced the Weirdboy's stool to accommodate his tender behind. Brudz had been anything but gentle with the cactus and the tongs… he ranked the ordeal as the number one most horrific thing that had ever happened to him in his life. Ongrat thanked the gods that he was a Weirdboy though, as he managed to incinerate the lodged foreign object with a mighty blast of waagh energy. His skin was left raw, but only a few of the spike tips remained embedded; it wouldn't take more than a couple of hours for the Ork to heal so he pressed on, bent on vengeance.

"Yew a gulper, or a slurper?" Ongrat snickered. He was confident that his hand would win.

"Me? I like ter chug it down. How 'bout yew though? Can yew chug dis down?" Brudz revealed her hand; she had three Kings and a pair of twos.

The grin on Ongrat's face didn't fade. He slowly lowered his cards, teasing Brudz. Her smug appearance vaporized while she tried to see what his hand was. She nearly fell off her stool when Ongrat suddenly threw down his cards in rage an he yelled "Alright! ALRIGHT! Yew win. AGAIN! I hate yew!"

Brudz got up, her heart still thudding in her chest like a jack hammer. She thought she'd be toasting to Ongrat's urine; thanking her lucky stars, she grinned knowing that instead he would be toasting to a bottle of her urine instead. She was enjoying the Poka tournament very much.

An Ork in the crowd threw Brudz an empty fungus beer bottle; she caught it, and walked towards an empty room leaving Ongrat to sulk and curse to himself angrily.

Once she returned, Brudz handed Ongrat the fungus beer bottle which had been filled to the brim with, well, something he would rather not put down his gullet. The Mek hadn't been too accurate, and the bottle was dripping wet. She also topped it off with a straw and an umbrella that the made from some wire and cloth. "'ere's yer refreshments, oh great one."

Ongrat's eyes watered at the rancid smell; he flicked the umbrella away, and took out the straw. He decided if he was going to drink it, he'd do it like a real Ork. He grabbed the bottle – quivering slightly as his palms became wet with the spilled liquid – and forced himself to put the opening to his mouth, and skull the contents.

By the time the urine reached Ongrat's stomach, it quickly did a U-turn and came rushing back out in a spray of vomit which rained down over the bench, narrowly missing Brudz.

He looked at the bottle; two thirds to go – he ignored the roars of laughter, and bit back the urge destroy something with his waagh energy. He wasn't going to loose the tournament, not to that annoyance…

Fate dealt Brudz her first blow in the third round, as she lost sorely with a pair of Threes; Ongrat won with a straight flush. As had been arranged, Ongrat was allowed to go blitz on Brudz with a Grot-prod (a device akin to a cattle prod, intended for use on Gretchin). He savored every second of the experience, reserving no mercy for his foe – Orks have very little mercy at the best of times.

Every time she screamed his smile got wider; every time she begged for mercy, he called her a pansy. Prod by shocking prod, Ongrat felt his pride returning and the torture came to an end sooner than he would have liked. Time flies when you're having fun.

Cezzy-Po took the Grot-prod off Ongrat, and he returned to his pile of tires, sitting and waiting for Brudz to join him in the fourth round. She lay on the ground, still twitching from her various muscle spasms. It was a good forty minutes before the next round began. And when it did, the Mek cursed her ill luck.

Twice in a row she lost, and Ongrat took the lead, his ego growing with each win until Brudz felt like she was going to suffocate from it. Her punishment for losing round four wasn't as painful as the Grot-prod, but it did cause her to drool a lot – she had her tongue stapled to the roof of her mouth, and wasn't allowed to remove it until the end of the fifth round.

Once the staple was removed, it was time for the Mek to receive her punishment for losing the fifth round. Ongrat had the pleasure of pouring chili sauce into her eyes and squirting up her nose. The Mek ran around blindly trying to find some source of water to wash her face with; eventually she found a toilet and flushed her head several times – unlike the last she'd had her head flushed, she was relieved. She refused to play Poka until her entire hour was over because her vision had been impaired; when the hour was up, she could just make out the cards.

The sixth round served up Ongrat his next loss, helping to keep his ego in check. It was the first round where the audience was allowed to participate – Ongrat had to endure fifty nipple cripples. The Orks also discovered something strange about the Dok during Ongrat's punishment.

"Alright, ev'ry body line up – only one nipple cripple each. Brudz gets ter deal out da rest." Cezzy-Po spoke, ushering the crowd of Orks to one side of the bench. "Take off dat amour Ongrat, dey can't pinch yew frew dat."

Ongrat eyed some of the Nobz' muscular hands; they looked as if they could pinch him through his leather vest. He did as he was bid by the Dok, and undid the buckles and slipped the vest off, sitting it on the bench. Over the ensuing fifteen minutes, Ongrat experienced pain like never before. By the time he had his nipples pinched fifty times, he had to race outside to release all the pent up waagh energy; green light flashed through the windows, and Ongrat walked back in glumly, nursing his wounds.

"What're yew gawpin' at?" He sneered at the Dok who was staring at his bare chest with a quirky smile on her face.

The Dok ignored Ongrat's foul temper and walked up to him, poking about his chest with her medical instruments. "Lemme fix dose bleedin' fings of yaws, hee, hee…"

"Git away! I don't need yer ta stitch me up. I'll get betta on me own! Oi, what're yew doin'?" Ongrat was surprised when Brudz tried to put his vest over his head from behind.

"Jus' put it on Ongrat, I wants ter see sumfin'." Brudz replied, forcing the thing over his head. It went on, but his arms were trapped against his sides.

"Fix Ongrat's boo-boos," Brudz ordered her sister.

Cezzy-Po snorted, "Not likely, I aint a charity. If 'ee gives me some teef I might."

Brudz then removed the vest, and repeated her order. "Fix 'iz nipples, Dok."

"Shaw fing! Jus' let me fred me sewin' needle…"

Ongrat snatched the vest from Brudz and put it back on. Once it was buckled up tightly, he said to the Dok, "Shoo, I don't need me chest sewn up."

His bare feet were stamped on by the Dok who snarled, "watch yer mouf, yew aint my boss, so don't give me orders!"

"Oh, I like dis…" Brudz grinned evilly. "Heh, heh, heh… "

After further investigation during their lunch break, Brudz and Ongrat concluded that the Dok had an obsession with bare chests – the Dok had said, "Dey reminds me ov all da dead bodies I hacked open fer spare parts… hee hee hee! I'd cut da clothes off dere chest, slice open dere ribs, an' take whatever woz in good nick. An' open chest surgery's one ov me favorites. I gets ter see lots of fings! Dat's da way a Dok should always live…"

After the discovery, Brudz and Ongrat went back to hating each other in the usual manner, and the tournament resumed.

Brudz lost the seventh round, and had her top row of teeth ripped out with pliers. Ongrat lost rounds eight and nine, and was made to endure having a rivet gun applied to his butt and his right hand nailed to the bench until the end of round ten – which, to his relief he won. The punishment for round ten wasn't painful, but it was certainly entertaining to the onlookers. The young Mek inwardly cringed as she was forced to give Ongrat an extensive back massage – if she did something wrong, or hurt the Weirdboy, she would get a shock from the Grot-prod.

"Yeah, right dere… dat's gud. Now a little lowa. To da right. Da uvver right! Yeah, aahhh. Good job, slave. Ouch! Dat 'urt! Poke 'er wiv da Grot-prod!"

"Eeek! Ouch! Gawd… 'ee woz lyin'! I didn't 'urt 'im! Bastard…"

There were only three rounds left, and the scores were even. The Ork to win two of the three final rounds would be on the path to victory.

"…Fwree aces, beat dat, Ongrat."

"Dis sucks…" Ongrat muttered, showing his cards – a pair of Kings, a Ten, Two and Five. "Alright, let's get it ovuh wiv. Uugh… I'm glad ninety percent ov da clan's DEAD an' can't see dis…"

Ongrat and Brudz had agreed that the looser have the phrase, "I am (winner's name) slave fer ev'r!" tattooed onto their left butt cheek.

"Why does I always get da butt punishments…" Ongrat sighed. He was too tired to truly care anymore. He pulled down the back of his pants, and allowed Cezzy-Po to use her brutal looking tattoo device. "Gentle! GENTLE! That's da side dat got riveted earlier!"

At the start of round twelve, Cezzy-Po was glaring at Ongrat angrily; he guessed she was mightily pissed off that he wasn't in the lead at such a vital time in the tournament. Her glare quickly turned venomous when Brudz won yet another round.

"Whoo-hoo! Looksh like I'm shtayin' 'ere wiv Shilf an' me buddy Glim." Brudz said slightly slurred, thanks to her missing a row of teeth. She leaned over the bench, licked one of her cards, and stuck it to Ongrat's forehead. "Oh, dish'll be a great day – da day yew kissh my butt, apologishes, an' amidsht defeat."

The Weirdboy removed the card from his forehead, snarling furiously at Brudz. "Don't go celebratin' yet yer toofless shit 'ead, dis tournament aint over 'til we plays da last round!"

"Sho be it, but let'sh finish da twelf firsht, hur, hur, hur!" Brudz grinned, but her upper lip curled over her toothless gum, making her look like she was trying to eat her own face.

The final round was about to begin; Ongrat sat on his stack of tires, with a lump the size of Jupiter protruding from the top of his head – all thanks to a large mallet that Brudz had swung with all the strength she could muster. He ignored the lump, and focused on choosing the perfect punishment for the last round.

"What's yer obsession wiv 'urting me be'ind? Fink ov sumfin' else, coz I aint agreein' ta anyfin' dat'll 'urt me butt if I looses!"

"Aww, but I fink a fire cracker wosh a good idea. Oh, 'ow boutsh fire worksh instead! Dat'd be funny."

"NO!"

The Mek didn't like being told no; she got cranky when Ongrat refused. "Party pooper, fink of shomefin' else, den! Fink yer sho shmart…"

Ongrat remembered how scared Brudz had been of Jawge the giant snake; he suggested that the looser had to allow themselves to get bitten by Jawge, but Brudz utterly refused. They continued to argue about the punishment, and eventually Cezzy-Po told them to shut up, and that the Poka Committee would choose the punishment.

Brudz wondered what the four Committee Orks were talking about; they had their backs to her, and were comparing each others feet. They nodded, agreeing about something. When they turned around, putting their boots back on, Uurgrin announced the punishment. "'oo ever looses… 'az ter suck Shilf's toes sparkly clean, hur, hur."

Ongrat and Brudz' faces twisted in disgust. They had some relief, however: at least it wouldn't be painful… hopefully.

Cezzy-Po wasted no time dealing the cards out. After discarding and collecting their new cards as desired, the time came to reveal hands – but first, there was trash talk to be exchanged.

"'Ave fun suckin' dem toes, hur, hur! Should be an easy fing fer yew to do, 'aving only 'alf yer teef an' all."

"I'm sure 'iz toesh'll taste better den my cocktail, dontcha fink, mmm?"

"It woz werf drinkin' dat toxic sludge jus' ter be able ter use dat Grot-prod!"

"Dat wavn't shludge! Yew'll learn what real shludge looks like when yew tickle Shilf's toesh wif yer tongue!"

They argued for a few more minutes before finally laying down their hands. "Full 'oushe – fwree Kingsh, an' a pair ov Tensh." Brudz announced trying to see what Ongrat's hand was.

Instead of putting his hand onto the bench the Weirdboy stood up and walked over to Brudz, and put an arm around her neck. He then showed her his hand. "…four Aces an' a Two. I 'ope yer like sludge flavored lollipops."

Shilf had apparently never removed his boots once over the past three months, until today when the Committee was trying to find out who had the filthiest feet. Looking at the Big Mek's bootless feet made Brudz' stomach shudder with fear. She had eaten many horrible things in the past, but what she was looking at could only be compared with two-week-old road kill let to rot. Shilf's feet even smelt like road kill.

"'Urry up," Shilf said wiggling his clawed toes. "Me feet're gettin' cold."

Brudz knelt down, trying to force her face to get closer. "I can't believe me freedom rests in… Shilf's feet." She closed her eyes and opened her mouth; but the stench was so bad that she could taste it, and she regurgitated her lunch onto the floor beside Shilf.

"Wot's wrong? Don't like toe jam?" Ongrat laughed, thanking his lucky stars he didn't loose. "It's alright, yer got one hour ter banquet on dose yummy lookin' toes."

"Shut yer mouf, ass hole. Yew'll be kishin' my arse when dis iz ovuh…"

Fifty minutes passed, and Brudz still hadn't even licked one of Shilf's pinkies. Every time she tried to put her mouth over his toes, it was like an invisible force prevented her from getting within an inch of them. She just couldn't do it – she'd rather eat a plate of squig droppings than put Shilf's toes in her mouth.

Orks who had bet their teeth on Brudz were all trying to convince her that she shouldn't give up; but despite their efforts, she crumpled under the pressure.

"I… I can't do it." Brudz tugged at her ears in frustration. She knew that by refusing to complete the punishment, Ongrat would automatically win the tournament.

Those who had bet on Brudz weren't impressed, and many swore very loudly.

"I knew I should 'ave bet on dat Weirdboy… now I'm twenty teef short!"

"Why couldn't yew 'ave jus' sucked iz damn TOES! I coulda bin FILFY RICH! But now I'm FILFY POVO!"

"I made a mistake bettin' on yew, yer runt. Runts always loose!"

Ongrat released fountains of waagh energy from his mouth in joy, melting some nearby scaffolding and setting fire to a few Orks nearby. "I won! I WON!"

Jamz pushed his way through the crowd until he stood over Brudz, Looking down at her cowering form. "Next time yer try uh runn'r like dat, when I finds yer, I'll cut yer gut open an' stuff an 'ungry squig in yer belly!"

He was about to grab her when Cezzy-Po stepped between him and Brudz. "Now 'old on dere big bro, dat one's still got one lasht fing ta do. Go 'ave some beer or somefin'."

The Mega Armored Nob yelled out to a Gretchin sitting on a pile of junk, "Get me some Beer! NOW!" Then walked off, flinging aside anyone who got in his way.

The Dok grabbed Brudz by an ear and pulled her up. "C'mon, yew lost; Ongrat's waitin'."

Brudz looked over to where Ongrat was standing, doing some weird jig. When he saw her, he pulled a face and stuck up both his rude fingers. "L-l-looo-zeeeerr!" He called out tauntingly. "Come ov'r 'ere an' kiss my butt better."

"Ef wit…" Brudz mumbled, and trudged over.

"Jus' rememba, I'm a Weirdboy. I c'n make yer 'ead explode if yer try anyfin' nasty." Ongrat warned her, then turned around and once again lowered the back of his pants.

"Eugh, grosh… Oi, I don't wanna audiensh! Yew lot, shoo!" Brudz scolded the circle of Orks which had crowded around, but no one budged. They all looked at her as if to say, 'try an make us'.

She crouched down so her face was level with Ongrat's bottom. She prayed silently to Gork and Mork that the Weirdboy wouldn't fart. "'Ere goes…" She puckered her lips and leant forward with her eyes tightly closed, until she met his left cheek.

All the onlookers erupted into hysterics, making absurd comments and generally being uncouth. Brudz ignored them as much as possible, and kissed Ongrat's right cheek. When she finished, ran over to the crowd and snatched a beer from one of the Orks. She took a swig, swished it about her mouth, spat it out, then handed the beer back. When she turned around she saw Ongrat standing inches away from her.

"Yeah, I know, I know. I gots ter go back to da camp…" Brudz grumbled.

Crack! Ooof!

Brudz was sent flying into the crowd of Orks with swift punch to the side of her head, and a powerful kick to her stomach. The Orks made a wide berth around Brudz as Ongrat walked up to her; he had a look of thunder on his face.

Brudz stood up, rubbing her cheek bone. "Dat woshn't part of da deal! Idiot."

"Now dat da tournament's over, I c'n do what I likes!" Ongrat snarled, grabbing Brudz by the collar of her singlet. "An' I'm gonna start by makin' yew wish yew'd never been spored!"

"Suck my –"

"Shtop dis right NOOOOOOW!" Cezzy-Po's screech sounded like nails being scraped down a chalk board. "Don't make me git out me scalpels…"

Ongrat let go of Brudz, whispering to her, "Jus' you wait 'til dat Dok ain't 'round ter save yaw skin…"

Half an hour later the Snakebites and the Evil Sunz were outside of Shilf's workshop winding up their conversations with the Burna Boys and Meks. Brudz sat on her bike, which was operational once again, talking to Shilf and Glim. The young Mek was miserable, and couldn't look Shilf in his cybork eyes.

"So, er… where ya off to?" Glim asked, trying to prevent an awkard silence.

Brudz shrugged limply. "Gotta find Gotshik's warband… shomewhere far away. Ee's fightin' da Goffs or somefin'."

The three Orks looked around when they heard panicked screams from some of the Orks.

"A giant snake's invaded da shity!"

"Da snake's gonna eat us! Run!"

Jawge was slithering towards the workshop with the remainder of Uurgrin's Snakebites sitting on his back; they were left at the camp to guard the camp.

"Calm down, it's just Jawge!" Cezzy-Po called out to the alarmed Orks.

The snake slithered over to Uurgrin, and the Snakebites jumped off. They smelt strongly of alcohol.

"Boss, da wartrakk… it, uh… got stolen." One of the Orks informed Uurgrin. "An'… dat squig fing's gone missin', too."

"Dere woz too many ov 'em!" Another Snakebite whimpered.

The Snakebite Boss clenched his fists angrily. "It got stolen? 'Ow?"

"SQUIGSY'S GONE MISSIN'!?" Cezzy-Po dashed over and held her chest saw across one of the Ork's throats, oblivious of Uurgrin. "WHERE'D MY SQUIGSY GO!"

"D-don't know…" The fearful Snakebite stammered truthfully. "We didn't really notice 'till we saw da Wartrakk rev ter life an' barge frew da fence…"

The Dok lowered her chest saw. "I knew I shoulda brought Squigsy wiv me… C'mon Brudz, we're goin' back ter camp!"

Brudz started her bike, and it sputtered to life. She would do anything to put distance between herself and the giant snake. Cezzy-Po jumped in the side cart, and the bike sped off.

The Dok hadn't been the only one to be enraged. Oric was fuming that his precious Wartrakk had been stolen; he made Uurgrin look like a playful kitten.

"MmmmmmMMMYYYY WAAARTAAAAAKKK!" He hollered, taking his Squiggoth tusk from its sling. He began thrashing at everything in sight, including any Orks who hadn't vacated the area. "Somebody's gonna PAY!"

Oric's sudden rage triggered Jamz' battle rage. "WAAAAAAAGH!"

Squelch! Squish! Crunch! "WAAAARTRAAAAK!"

The two Nobz ran off down the road back towards camp, weapons raised above their heads. Jamz was much slower, and Oric quickly gaining distance. The pair didn't stop running, and their shouts could still be heard when they disappeared around a corner.

"We're goin' back ter camp!" Uurgrin ordered his Orks. "Let's go! When I get me 'ands on dose fieves, dey'll wish dey never stole anyfin' from da Snakebites…"

"… don't da Wartrakk an' da squig belong ter da Evil Sunz…?" One of the Snakebite Nobz pointed out.

Uurgrin mounted Jawge with Orlen and Ongrat. "…Shud up."

Chapta 19 Notes: I wanted to do something ultra silly… so don't worry, the rest of the story isn't going to be as insane is this chapta was. Back to semi-sanity next chapta, I promise! ;)