The Orks poured into the massive, crudely built torpedo, gripping firearms fitted with axes and long blades, securely bound to the guns with screws and wire.
A heavy chunk of metal hung beneath each gun, but in Ork hands, such heavy, rough metal was no problem at all. Instead, it became an instrument for building up the atmosphere of battle.
The torpedo's nose was a grinning Ork head filled with explosives. The middle section was a compartment carrying the Ork boys, while the tail held irregularly arranged rocket engines, some large, some small, some thick, some short.
As for whether the explosion caused by the torpedo hitting a ship would kill the other Orks, that was simply impossible!
We're squatting safely behind a big metal plate! What's a blown-off head got to do with the body? Of course we can jump onto someone else's ship in the blast and start Waaagh!-ing!
"Orks! Orks! Orks! Orks! Green!!!"
Inside the torpedo, a huge Boss led this mob of boys. He wore gleaming plate armor and had a bright red iron jaw, looking tremendously imposing.
"We're gonna loot a big shiny thing! That stuff is perfect for us! We're gonna decorate it too! There ain't any pretty patterns on it!"
The Boss hammered his gun against the floor to make noise, while using his booming voice to suppress the other Orks' racket.
A thunderous fart rang out, blasting open the Boss's rear armor. A thick stench filled the entire torpedo compartment, making the space, already mixed with Ork body odor, even fouler.
Yet this fart earned the respect and attention of the Orks. They finally quieted down and whispered among themselves, covering their noses while praising the Boss's fart for being both loud and foul.
The Ork Boss was very pleased with this.