"Thick Armor" Bunglak led a group of Boyz, sneaking toward the pitch-black street in the Ork way. After a whole morning of fierce fighting, the street held only the faint glow of corpses not yet fully burned away and a little fuel still burning on a Dirty Tank.
Bunglak and his Boyz wielded two choppas each. Back in Heglas Hive, they had hacked their way from the south gate all the way to the north gate, chopping and chopping without even blinking. As for whether their eyes got dry? The most Waaagh! Ork eyes would never go dry! Because the blood of the humies kept them moist.
Bunglak stroked his chin and thought for a while. He had somewhat forgotten how the Waaagh! he had planned from that corner across the street was supposed to go. After smacking his head hard with a hand, he suddenly recalled what the Big Boyz often told them: "Waaagh! 'em till there's barely any left!"
The cunning, strong, green, and stinky Big Boyz sat atop towering heaps of garbage, telling them exciting stories. The boss spoke earnestly: tell your mates proper, make them yell at the ones across the way, then pick up your shootas and blast them all to bits.
The Big Boyz' words were always so simple and easy to understand. Even an idiot who had gotten a Squig brain transplant could understand them. It was far better than that Bomb Rampager who spent all day clutching his bomb Dakkagun and reciting poems nobody understood.
Thinking of this, Bunglak turned to a Boy who was also holding two axes. "What was that Bomb Rampager always jabbering about again?"
"Uh... I remember. 'Cannons rise and blast their mums, our Ork warriors Waaagh! in all directions.'"
"Yeah, yeah, that's it! We're gonna Waaagh! in