"'Eresy? Sounds weird..."
"Dun' hafta tell me. See, 'eresy's dere word fer unorky. Some git tries ta run away from a propa fight, it's 'eresy. Some git tries ta act like 'e's da boss when 'e's small an' weedy an' dun' 'ave no dakka either, it's 'eresy. So da 'umie wiv da fancy 'at, 'e's da 'umie nob. Anyone give 'im lip an' 'e jes' puts a slug in 'is 'ead. Zoggin' orky, it is! An' cuz 'umies are all da same size, 'e wears da 'at so da uvvers can see 'e's da boss."
"Wot about if 'e looses da 'at, den? Or wot if da uvver lads can't see 'im cuz 'e's too small? How dey gonna know who's da boss? Dey shoulda give 'im speshul shoes wot makes 'im look bigger. Dat woulda been da shmott fing ta do."
"Dey fink dey have beaten us lot. I fink it's safe ta say dey ain't shmott." Orgutz replied, suddenly slamming his massive green foot on the brakes. The trukk stopped surprisingly fast, tires screeching. The sudden stop threw the unprepared Gromgark headfirst into the passenger seat, a loud crunching sound echoing through the trukk as the ork's skull hit the metal.
"WOT DA ZOG DO YA FINK YER DOIN', YA GROT-LOVER!" Gromgark shouted furiously, drawing the knife he had made from a hormagaunt's talon during the fighting on Huxis Prime. Orgutz just turned around, a big grin revealing rows of gold-plated, crooked fangs.
"We's 'ere."
Gromgark looked at Orgutz for a second, and then started smiling too. Rising to his feet, he unholstered his slugga and cocked it.
"Let's rokk."

Pulp Fiction with Orks?

Not sure if want...

It's... It's... Orkyful!

>>4974583
whatever this is awesome

>>4974583
Ain't too bad, so far.
OP, keep going.

>>4974653
That's all I have, so far. If people like it, I'll try to get some more done later.

Fantastic.

>>4974541
>>4974563
please continue OP, i am interest

>>4974672
Get to work, then.

BRILLIANT!

Iz...iz booful...

very good OP, please continue

CONTINUE DAMNIT!

Damn

I thought it woulda kept going and ended in "AYM DA NEW COMMISSAH"

"Yer sure ya kin take care'a dis?" Gromgark whispered, pressing his gigantic green ear against the door to listen for any sign that they had been discovered.
"Fer da last time, I get it." Orgutz replied, obviously annoyed. He held a massive shoota in his hands, consisting of what looked like three shotguns that had been welded together and supplied with an almost comically oversized sighting mechanism. "I jes' keep an eye on da gits, an' if any'o dem try ta do sumfink weird, I blast 'em."
"An ya let me do da talkin'."
"Right, an' I let you do da talkin'."
"Da Boss jes' want wot dey took. Da last fing we need is Skumplot bawlin' 'bout how we're unfair fer takin' wot belongs ta da lootas fair an' square and krumpin' 'is boyz an' Mork knows wot." It wasn't very common for orks to want to settle conflicts peacefully, but things had been a bit uneasy in the clan lately, and Gromgark sure didn't fancy waking up with a bomb squig shoved down his pants. Like it or not, they would have to do this without killing anyone.
"I'm an ex-kommando, ya know." Orgutz muttered under his breath. "I fink I know a bit more 'bout sneakin' up on gits dan some nob wiv more teef dan shmotts."
"Wot's dat?" Gromgark said, raising his left eyebrow.
"Nuffink. Let's jes' do dis right an' propa."
"Ya got dat right!"

With a roar, Gromgark kicked the door in, showering the shocked lootas inside with splinters. Before they had much time to react, Orgutz had fire several shots into the roof of the hut, making the surprised orks freeze in their tracks.
"Right, I see any o' you lot reach fer as much as a snotling-zappa an' my buddy 'ere'll blast dem stupid gubbinz clean off yer faces!" Gromgark roared, pointing his slugga straight at the closest ork. "Now, how'sabout you lot tell me where da gubbinz are?"

Much win.

The loota just gave Gromgark a stupid look (well, stupid for an ork, at least) and looked at one of the others.
"Oi! I'm over here, squig-brains!" Gromgark shouted, the loota quickly turning his head to stare at the gun being pointed at him. "Tell me where da gubbinz are an' I won't hafta shoot yer orky bitz off."
"W-wot... Wot gubbinz?" The loota stuttered, staring at the floor.
"Oi! Lookit me! Dis 'ere's da list time I'm gonna tell ya 'fore I start shootin'! WHERE'S. DA. GUBBINZ?"
"I... I dunno wot gubbinz y-yer talkin' 'bout..."
Taking two steps forward, Gromgark stood a few inches from the loota. Since he was at least two heads taller, he had to tilt his head down in order to look him in the eye.
"Who's da boss 'round dese parts?"
"Wot?"
"I said: Who's da boss 'round dese parts, zog-face!" Gromgark accentuated his question by putting his slugga against the loota's temple, cocking it slowly.
"D-dat'd be Warboss Ingork."
"Dat's right. Looks like yer not completely zogged in da 'ead. Now, kin ya tell me wot Warboss Ingork looks like?"
"W-wot?"
Without warning, Gromgark smacked the loota in the face with the butt of his slugga, knocking him to the floor. The other two lootas started to run toward him, but were stopped by a warning shot from Orgutz's shoota.
"Dun' say 'wot' again. Fing's'll git ugly if ya do." Gromgark said, pulling the loota to his feet by his right ear. "I'll ask again. Wot dose Warboss Ingork look like?"

>>4974925
< shmotts

...jagerorks?

... this could be win.

Fuck yes OP, keep going!

more!!

"W-well... 'E's big. Real big. Like a Dread. An' 'e's got all dese shiny metal gubbinz in 'is 'ead wot makes dese sounds like dem giant bugs in da swamp." The frightened loota responded, rubbing his head with fingers like green sausages.
"Right. An does 'e look like a grot?"
"Wot?"
The sound of bone cracking could be heard as Gromgark hit the loota again, this time hard enough to draw blood. The loota lay sprawled on his back, looking up at Gromgark, who was starting to look extremely angry.
"I told ya, din' I? Dun' git up. Does Warboss Ingork look like a grot ta you?"
"N-no. 'E doesn't look like a grot ta me." The loota exclaimed frantically, blood running down his forehead and into his eyes in a steady stream.
"An' why do ya act like 'e's a grot? Why do ya take 'is gubbinz an' hide dem away? Did ya really fink 'e wouldn't find ya? Now tell me where da gubbinz are, 'fore I lose my payshunz."
At this point one of the other lootas raised his hand and opened his mouth.
"I kin te-"
Before he had a chance to finish his sentence, there was a loud bang as half his head was blown clean off, and the loota fell backwards, a fountain of blood gushing from what remained attached to his neck.

"Oops!" Orgutz exclaimed, his shoota still smoking.
With a shout, the loota that had been standing next to the dead one threw himself against Orgutz, only to end up with a chest full of bullets the size of a man's fist. He fell to the ground face-first like a big green sack of squigs.
"Fer da love'a Gork..." Gromgark muttered, shooting the loota on the floor right between his eyes. "Why da zog did ya hafta do dat?"
"Ya saw 'im! 'E moved! Ya told me dat if anyone'a dem moved, I wus supposed ta blast 'em, an' I did!" Orgutz shouted back, waving his shoota around like a giant finger.
"Zoggin' kommandos... Fink yer Ghazghkull, an' dis is Armer-Geddem. Why da Boss dun' jes' git rid o' da lot o' ya, I'll never unnerstand." Holstering his slugga and tucking his knife back into his belt, Gromgark stared at the mess Orgutz had caused. It wouldn't be long until someone came to find out what all the noise was about and if there was something to loot. "Let's jes' find da gubbinz an' git out 'fore ya can git us inta any more trouble."
"I told ya, it wosn't my fault! 'E shouldn't've moved like dat. You told 'em to jes' stand still! Wot if 'e wos gonna reach fer a blasta or sumfink?" Orgutz exclaimed, sounding quite ashamed of himself.
"'E wos gonna tell us where da gubbinz were, dat's wot 'e wos gonna do, squig-brains! An ya zogged it! Now 'elp me look, 'fore we both end up on da wrong side of a deffblasta."
"I didn't fink dere was no right side to a deffblasta."
"Ain't you a zoggin' orksyklopedya! Now stop muckin' about an' find dose gubbinz!"

Someone archive this, I am banned from archiving or I would.

>>4975329
I assume you're banned for archiving stupid shit. Maybe you should learn from that experience.

And that's it for scene two of Ork Fikkshun. I'm glad some of you liked it. With any luck, I'll get around to writing more if people seem to like it.

Awesome, OP! I lol'd.

>>4975348

Writefag, I am impressed.

>>4975346
Are you implying this is stupid shit?

>"I didn't fink dere was no right side to a deffblasta."
For some reason, this made me laugh. I don't even know why.

>>4975348

I wish you had written "zog" or "waaagh" or something other than "Act like" when it came to the grot part. Otherwise, fantastic.

Requesting the gimp scene for the next one.

Words can't explain this.

>>4975544
Sure they can. See >>4974583

Wait a second.

What the fuck, man? What the fuck?

This is awesome.

TWO SHOT - YARRICK AND GHAZGHKULL
are tied up in two separate chairs. In their mouths are two
S&M-style ball gags (a belt goes around their heads and a
little red ball sticks in their mouths). Both men are
unconscious. Tahril steps in with a fire extinguivatus and
SPRAYS both guys until they're wide awake and wet as squigsharks.
The two prisoners look up at their captors.

Tahril stands in front of them, fire extinguisher in one
hand, splinter rifle in the other, and Ghazghkull' slugga sticking in his
belt.

TAHRIL
Nobody kills anybody in my place of
business except me or Vect.

A BUZZER buzzes.

TAHRIL
That's Vect.

Without saying another word, Tahril climbs up the stairs that
lead to red curtains and goes through them.

WE HEAR, on the other side of the curtains, Tahril let Vect
inside the store.

>>4975730

Not the OP, just something I had lying about.

Yarrick and Ghazghkull look around the room. The basement of the
pawnshop has been converted into a dungeon. After taking in
their predicament, Yarrick and Ghazghkull look at each other, all
traces of hostility gone, replaced by a terror they both share
at what they've gotten themselves into.

Tahril and VECT come through the curtains. Vect is an even
more intense version of Tahril, if such a thing is possible.
The two Dark Eldar are obviously…partners. Where Tahril is
brutal as Gork, Vect is as cunning as Mork. Vect walks in and
stands in front of the two captives. He inspects them for a
long time, then says:

VECT
(to Tahril)
You said you waited for me?

TAHRIL
I did.

VECT
Then how come they're all beat up?

TAHRIL
They did that to each other. They
was fightin' when they came in.
This one was gonna shoot that one.

VECT
(to Yarrick)
You were gonna shoot him?

Yarrick makes no reply.

VECT
Hey, is the Dais gonna be okay in
front of this place?

TAHRIL
Yeah, it ain't Tuesday is it?

VECT
No, it's Thursday.

TAHRIL
Then she'll be fine.

This thread deserves drawfaggotry. Unfortunately, all I have to give is an awesome, but unrelated image.

You, sir, deserve a slow clap.

Anyone ever wonder who gork and mork are?

VECT
Bring out The Grotesque.

TAHRIL
I think The Grotesque's asleep.

VECT
Well, I guess you'll just wake 'em
up then, won't you?

Tahril opens a trap door in the floor.

TAHRIL
(yelling in the hole)
Wake up!

Tahril reaches into the hole and comes back holding onto a
leash. He gives it a rough yank and, from below the floor,
rises THE GROTESQUE.

The Grotesque is a man they keep dressed from head to toe in black
leather bondage gear. There are zippers, buckles and studs
here and there on the body. On his head is a black leather
mask with two eye holes and a zipper (closed) for a mouth.
They keep him in a hole in the floor big enough for a large
dog.

Vect takes the chair, sits it in front of the two prisoners,
then lowers into it. Tahril hands The Grotesque's leash to Vect,
then backs away.

TAHRIL
(to The Grotesque)
Down!

The Grotesque gets on its knees.

Tahril hangs back while Vect appraises the two men.

TAHRIL
Who's first?

VECT
I ain't fer sure yet.

Then with his little finger, Vect does a silent "Eenie, meany,
miney, moe…Catch the mon’keigh by the toe…" just his
mouth mouthing the words and his
finger going back and forth between the two.

Yarrick are Ghazghkull are terrified.

Tahril looks back and forth at the victims.

The Grotesque's eyes go from one to the other inside the mask.


Vect continues his silent sing-song with his finger moving left
to right, then it stops.

TWO SHOT - YARRICK AND GHAZGHKULL
after a beat, THE CAMERA MOVES to the right, zeroing in on
Ghazghkull.

Vect stands up.

VECT
Wanna do it here?

TAHRIL
Naw, drag the greenie to Boreale's old
room.

Vect grabs Ghazghkull' chair and DRAGS him into Boreale's old
room. Boreale, no doubt, was some other poor bastard that has
the misfortune of stumbling into the Commoragh pawnshop.
Whatever happened to Boreale is known only to Tahril and Vect
because his old room, a back room in the back of the back
room, is empty.

As Ghazghkull is dragged away, he locks eyes with Yarrick before
he disappears behind the door of Boreale's old room.

TAHRIL
(to The Grotesque)
Up!

The Grotesque rises. Tahril ties The Grotesque's leash to a hook on
the ceiling.

TAHRIL
Keep an eye on this one.

The Grotesque bows its head: "yes." Tahril disappears into
Boreale's old room. There must be a vox-caster in there because
suddenly The Banshees, singing in harmony, fills the air.

Yarrick looks at The Grotesque. The Grotesque giggles from underneath the
mask as if this were the funniest moment in the history of
comedy.

From behind the door we hear craftworld MUSIC, struggling, and:

TAHRIL (OS)
Whoa, this boy's got a bit of fight
in 'em!

We then HEAR Tahril and Vect beat on Ghazghkull.

VECT (OS)
You wanna fight? You wanna fight?
Good, I like to fight!

Yarrick pauses, listens to the voices. Then, in a panic,
hurriedly struggles to get free.

The Grotesque is laughing wildly.

The ropes are on too tight and Yarrick can't break free.

The Grotesque slaps his knee laughing

In the back room, we hear:

TAHRIL (OS)
That's it...that's it boy, you're
goin' fine. Oooooooh, just like
that...that's good.
(grunting faster)
Stay still...stay still goddamn ya!
Vect goddammit, git over here and
hold 'em!

Yarrick stops struggling and lifts up on his arms. Then, quite
easily, the padded chair back slides up and off as if it were
never connected by a bolt.

THE GROTESQUE
Huhng?

The Grotesque FLAILS WILDLY, trying to get the leash off the hook.
He tries to yell, but all that comes out are excited gurgles
and grunts.

Yarrick is out of his chair, quickly dispensing three unpowered KLAW
PUNCHES to its face. The punches knock The Grotesque out, making
him fall to his knees, this HANGING HIMSELF by the leash
attached to the hook,

Yarrick removes the ball gag, then silently makes his way
through the red curtains.

Yarrick sneaks to the door.

On the counter is a big set of keys with a large V connected
to the ring. Grabbing them, he's about to go out when he
stops and listens to the Eldar psychopaths having their
way with Ghazghkull.

Yarrick decides for the life of him, he can't leave anybody in a
situation like that. Se he begins rooting around the pawnshop
for a weapon to bash those xeno’s heads in with.

He picks up a big destructive-looking shock maul, then discards
it: not destructive enough. He picks up a Chainsword, thinks
about it for a moment, then puts it back. Next, a large
Power Hammer he tries on for size. But then he spots
what he's been looking for:

A C’tan phase sword.

It hangs in its hand-forged adamantine case from a nail on the
wall, next to a neon "G.E.O.M’s OLD-FASHIONED ROOT BEER" sign.
Yarrick takes the sword off the wall, removing it from its
sheath. It's a magnificent piece of living metal. It seems to
pulsate in the low-wattage light of the pawnshop. Yarrick
touches his thumb to the blade to see if the sword is just for
show. Not on your life. It's sharp enough to cut reality. This
weapon seems made to order for the Brothers Grimm downstairs.
Holding the sword pointed downward, in Callidus Temple style, he
disappears through the red curtains to take care of business.

Yarrick quietly sneaks down the stairs leading to the dungeon.
Inter-xenos sodomy and The Banshees can still be heard behind
the closed door that leads to Boreale's old room.

Yarrick's klaw comes into frame, pushing the door open. It
swings open silently, revealing the rapists, who have switched
positions. Vect is now bent over Ghazghkull, who is bent over a
wooden horse. Tahril watches. Both have their backs to
Yarrick.

Tahril faces the CAMERA, grinning, while Yarrick comes up
behind him with the sword.

Miserable, violated, and looking like a rag doll, Ghazghkull,
red ball gag still in mouth, opens his watery eyes to see
Yarrick coming up behind Tahril. His eyes widen.

YARRICK
Hey, heretic.

Tahril turns and sees Yarrick holding the sword.

Yarrick SCREAMS...with one mighty SWING, SLASHES Tahril across
the front, moving past him, eyes and blade now locked on Vect.

Tahril stands trembling, his front sliced open, in shock.

Yarrick, while never taking his eyes off Vect, THRUSTS the sword
behind him, SKEWERING Tahril, then EXTRACTS it, pointing the
blade toward Vect. Tahril COLLAPSES.

Vect disengages from Ghazghkull in a hurry and his eyes go from
the tip of Yarrick's sword to Ghazghkull's slugga, which
lies within reach.

Yarrick's eyes follow Vect's.

YARRICK
You want that gun, xeno? Pick it
up.

Vect's hand inches toward the weapon.

Yarrick GRIPS the sword tighter.

Vect studies Yarrick,

Yarrick looks hard at Vect.

Then a VOICE says:

GHAZGHKULL (OS)
Move aside, ‘umie!

Yarrick steps aside, REVEALING Ghazghkull standing behind him,
holding Tahril's splinter rifle.

KA-SKREEE!!!!

Vect is BLASTED in the groin. Down he goes, SCREAMING in
AGONY.

Ghazghkull, looking down at his whimpering rapist, RACKS the
smoking weapon's stock.

Yarrick lowers the sword and hangs back. Not a word, until:

YARRICK
You okay?

GHAZGHKULL
Naw, ya runt. I's zoggin' far
from okay!

Long pause.

YARRICK
What now?

GHAZGHKULL
Wot now? Well, I’s gonna tell ya
wot now. I's gonna call a mob o’
ded ‘ard painboyz, ‘oo go ta
krumpin' habs ‘ere wif a pair o’
choppas and a burna.
(to Vect)
Hear me talkin' panzee boy?! I’s
ain't through wiff ya by a gargin’
sight. I's gonna git a right-proper
WAAAGH! on yer arse!

YARRICK
I meant what now, between me and
you?

GHAZGHKULL
Oh, izzat wot now? Well, I’s gonna
tells ya wot now ‘tween me an'
you. Dere iz no me an' you. Not
no more.

YARRICK
So we're cool?

GHAZGHKULL
Yah one-eye, we's cool. One fing I
ask – naw, two fings I ask: don't
tell nobody ‘bout dis. Dis all
iz ‘tween me an’ you an’ da
soon-ta-be-livin'-da-rest-o’-his-
runty-life-in-loadsa-urt,
Mr. Rapist here. It ain't nobody
else's business. Two: zog off.
Tonight. Quick-like. And when
you's gone, you's stay gone. Ya
lost yer Hades Hive privileges.
Goddit?

YARRICK
Deal.

The two warriors shake hands, then briefly hug one another.

GHAZGHKULL
Move it, get yer arse outta 'ere!

Yarrick leaves Boreale's old room through the red curtains.
Ghazghkull walks over to a webway vox, dialing a number.

GHAZGHKULL
(into the vox)
Hey Grotsnik, itz Ghazghkull.
Gotta situation 'ere...bring da roks.

Yarrick, still shaking in his boots, exits the pawnshop. He
looks ahead and sees, parked in front of the establishment,
Vect's Dais of Destruction with a Dark Lance turret that has the
name "GRACE" on it. He climbs aboard, takes out the keys with
the big V on them and starts up the huge skimmer. It RUMBLES to
life, making sounds like a buzzsaw on steel. Yarrick
twists the accelerator handle and SPEEDS off.

Jesus. Stop, please.

Jesus stops for no man

>>4976079
'cept Pontius Pilate.

>>4976017

NO U

>>4976079
He would for this shit, god DAMN.

>>4976128
I'm assuming you're talking about the not-OP screenplay thingie, because if you're not, I oughta give you a good old fashioned internet ass-whooping.

BUMP FOR THE BUMP GOD!

>>4976128
I'm torn.
On one hand, we have the incredibly bad screenplay thing.
On the other hand, we have one of the best examples of write-faggotry we've seen in awhile...
I SHALL BUMP THIS THREAD, FOR JUSTICE!

>>4976149
Of course I'm talking about that abortion, you hack-eyed twit. Why would ANYONE hate what the OP wrote?

C'mon, use common sense.

>>4976328
Well, if that's so, why sage the thread?
Keeping it bumped helps the OP if he decides to bless us again with his original content!

>>4976370

No point sticking around waiting for the OP. Dump the story on 1d4chan, and when the OP comes back to write more, it will be archived.

That's.. That's so awesome.

Anything you want OP, you got it.

>>4976380
GENIUS

>>4976404
CREEEEEED!

im reading every thing in a orky voice now and i like it

My biggest complaint with the Yarrick/Ghaz thing is, THEY BOTH HAVE POWER FISTS.

They don't need weapons, even if it is closer to the source material.

Yarrick should have punched the door in, and thrown Tahril through a wall. Then had his show down with Vect, and Ghaz would come with another giant metal fist.

WOTS DAT SAYZ?
I AIN'T READINZ IT

This just might be the best writefaggotry we've had on /tg/ in quite a while. Somehow it reminds me of that nazi flamethrower thing we had a while back.

Two words: Awe. Some.

>>4979880
Mannfried Von Mann!

>>4980066
That's the one!