Throwing

Snotlings liked to sneak around and "borrow" things at night, and the Grimace Gang's Snotlings enjoyed it more than most. After sunset, Gulu brought the Grimace Snotlings' boss to meet the Mekboyz—a bald, shifty-eyed, filthy little Snotling boss. All Snotlings looked sneaky, but this one was the sneakiest Agum had ever seen. What did that mean?

From the moment he entered, the Snotling could not stand still. His feet kept shifting, his hands did not know where to go, and his eyes seemed capable of piercing through things and dragging them straight into his pockets.

"That's him, boss."

Gulu pointed at the Snotling and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Six-Finger, Grimace's best thief."

"Is that so?"

Agum asked skeptically, looking the little creature up and down. He was skinny and no different from the other Snotlings.

"Yeah, yes, yes! Six-Finger's the best!"

The Snotling snorted in protest. He did not look Agum in the eye, but there was defiance in his voice, sharp and grating, with almost none of the usual Snotling servility.

"Fine. Then you've got a job."

He had never included Snotlings in his plans before, but tonight they had a special use.

"This is what I want."

Agum described the thing he needed: a component required to make the machine run properly. When he mentioned where it was, dozens of eyes blinked in the darkness. Those were the Grimace Gang's thieving Snotlings.

"You sure? That's dangerous work. Sneaking into Bloodfang Fort and nicking Turok's stuff'll cost you a whole pile of teef."

Six-Finger did not refuse after hearing that, but he was still nervous.

"How much?"

"Twenty upfront! Thirty when you deliver!"

"Fifty teef? Fifty!?"

Big Mouth rolled his eyes. He wanted to shove the Snotling's head into a bucket of water and make him wake up.

"We ain't got that many teef! What a waste of time. Stealing stuff from Turok? You've lost your mind, Agum. Proper lost it!"

He raised an arm, grabbed the Mekboy's shoulder, and shook him hard.

"Hold on, don't panic. We got teef!"

"We ain't got... ah."

Big Mouth's gaze followed Agum's until it landed on Shorty's mouth. The two of them grinned wickedly at once, while Shorty stared blankly back, his eyes darting uneasily between them.

"W-what?"

"You pin him down. I'll get the pliers."

Big Mouth said.

The Grimace Gang's Snotlings slipped into Bloodfang Fort in groups. They crept around without attracting notice, proving that they really were worth the price.

When Six-Finger dragged at least half of Turok's boss wagon into the workshop, Agum laughed for a long time. He and Big Mouth sprawled across it, dismantled it within seconds, and took the bits they needed—especially the pair of rings fitted with steel balls. Agum had been eyeing those for a long time. He had heard that the lads over at Blackstone invented them, calling them bearings.

The workshop quickly became busy. Snotlings streamed between heaps of junk while Agum climbed up and down ladders, directing the others and telling the Snotlings where to go and what to do like a proper boss. And that was indeed the first time he understood what he was supposed to do.

His thoughts became a whirlpool. He instinctively seized the bubbles rising within them—the sudden bursts of inspiration. He could not clearly explain what he knew, and he did not truly understand it either, but he simply knew.

Agum's fingers worked without thought, assembling mechanisms he did not fully understand. Like the other boyz, he busied himself happily with little communication. All of them were moving in the same direction, something that would probably seem strange—very strange—to other creatures.

Shorty finished preparing his winch and rubber bands. He made small adjustments to the chassis until the hook could properly catch the throwing arm. The Snotlings looked nervous, but they did not get in the way, and the rubber bands did not snap around wildly this time. That pleased Shorty enough that he even forgot the pain in his mouth.

Big Mouth whistled as he secured the throwing arm, skillfully arranging gears and belts into a tangled transmission system. A few hard blows from his clever hammer made everything perfect. He laughed, then suddenly stopped and looked around. He was always lacking a sense of safety.

The towering machine was bathed in firelight, gears and winches clattering away. A large group of Weirdboyz gathered nearby, peering at it curiously with their mouths still full of nonsense.

When Agum climbed to the top of the wooden frame, the final installation was nearly complete. Gulu was loudly directing the other Snotlings. Shorty lay lazily across a belt connected to the other end of the throwing arm, while the Weirdboy Nugho fiddled with a huge bow. Agum was not pleased about that. Those lads were too dangerous.

There would not be much time before the Deadly Headhunters came to investigate. Agum wanted to strike first.

"Everything done?"

After nailing the last sheet of metal firmly into place, Agum shouted.

"Yes, boss!"

Gulu said. The other Snotlings were greasing the gears with oil squeezed from Squigs.

"Good. Now get up there and keep an eye on those Yellow Faces!"

"Right!"

He said, then quickly climbed the wooden frame.

"Got the wheels sorted?"

Jumping down in a cloud of dust, Agum asked Shorty. The other boy nodded hard.

"Yeth."

He grinned foolishly through his mangled speech. Agum patted his shoulder in satisfaction. As he looked over the enormous wooden machine, he knew it had all been worth it. It was perfect.

"Alright, alright!"

Agum clapped his hands hard, gathering the others around him.

"Okay, boyz, time to try out this Big Throw-Throw!"

The boyz cheered together, but Agum had not called them over just to make noise. He still needed a volunteer.

"I'll do it!"

One boy eagerly jumped out. Without waiting to hear what anyone else had to say, he climbed straight into the sling.

Shorty had already cranked the winch tight. The rubber strips and leather cords made teeth-grinding sounds, while the other end, loaded with weights, rose high into the air and swayed slightly from the throwing arm.

"Good! Ready!"

Agum and the other boyz turned the machine, aiming the throwing arm outward.

"Let 'er rip!"

As the great hammer came down, the winch spun madly. The thick throwing arm whipped upward with a howl of wind, the weighted basket dropped, and the entire machine shuddered.

"Waaaaaahhh!"

In the air, the boy screamed as he flew over the Weirdboyz' huts. He looked both thrilled and terrified, spreading his arms wide like some clumsy giant bird.

"Too far! Again!"

Watching the boy vanish below the horizon in a cloud of dust, Agum narrowed his eyes and judged the distance. It did not feel right.

"I'll go next!"

Big Mouth excitedly tried to climb in, but Agum kicked him aside and let another boy sit in the sling.

"Waaaaaahhh!!"

The Weirdboyz once again looked curiously into the sky.

"Too close!"

Watching a hut collapse, Agum shook his head. Nugho pointed at his own nose, then climbed into the sling.

"Mmmmmmmmm!"

His muffled howl seemed to give the Weirdboyz below a common language, and they all began cheering.

"Perfect! That's it!"

This time, the distance was just right. Agum even wanted to hug that lad—provided they scraped him off the rocks first.

"Move! We're going over there!!!"

Agum was overjoyed. He and the boyz strained to push the huge cart toward Bloodfang Fort. The thing was truly heavy, and they could barely move it. More than a dozen wheels creaked across the ground. Many boyz were drawn to the massive contraption, and the mob gradually gathered behind them. Lots of Orks wanted to know what Agum was up to.

"What!?"

Zag also emerged from the crowd. He rubbed his eyes, hardly able to believe what he was seeing.

But Agum had no time to argue with him. The target was right in front of them. He held up his thumb toward Bloodfang Fort, judged the distance, then nodded to Big Mouth and Shorty before sitting down in the sling.

"Let 'er rip!"

The great hammer struck precisely. Every boy stretched out his neck as they watched a figure fly farther and farther away, soaring toward the top of Bloodfang Fort.

A moment later, a cloud of smoke and dust rose from the top of the fort. After that, there was no movement.

"Did he splat?"

"I reckon not."

Everyone stared at the spot, waiting for something to happen. Some clever lads started taking bets, and plenty of boyz put down wagers. Shorty placed one too. He bet that Agum was not dead.

That lad still owed him fifty teef!

"Look!"

Suddenly, someone shouted. Everyone widened their eyes and looked over. A figure stood atop the fort, waving a scrap of cloth printed with a weird face.

"Brilliant!"

Big Mouth and Shorty jumped up excitedly and hugged each other. Zag just stood there with his mouth hanging open, unable to say a word.

But none of the boyz noticed that a large banner had been standing outside the fort for quite some time. It was a blood-red White Hand banner...