Post by Grimgor Ironhide on May 25, 2022 8:51:06 GMT -5
Deep in the swamps of the Bayou stands brave NLW reporter Kelly Ross, trying to catch up with Grimgor Ironhide as he wades through the wilderness, an empty glass jar in one hand, and a makeshift spear in the other.
“Here we are with none other than Grimgor Ironhide. Mr. Ironhide…”
"Wot ya want, twiggy? Oi’z tryin’ ta KILL fingz ‘ere!”
It is uncertain whether Kelly is confused, or doing her best not to laugh, but she keeps her composure as she makes her first question.
“It must have been frustrating to come up just one second short in the Super Scramble, but nonetheless, that was a very impressive debut. Can the NLW audience get your thoughts on that?”
"Wot da bleedin’ ZOG do ya think Oi am? Oi’z ANGRY!”
“You seem to be angry all the time, though.”
DA ONCE AND FUTURE GIT grunts.
“Well dat’s true, but dis time OI’Z ROIGHT ANGRY!”
He chucks his spear into the ground, but seems to have missed his target as he lets out a yell.
“Would you like to elaborate on that?”
“BAH! Dat stripey git’s slow, he iz! Should ‘ave painted ‘im red, ‘cause red fingz go fasta!
Utterly discombobulated at that remark, Kelly attempts to speak, but the mighty Orc raises a hand now.
“But ain’t no worries, see, ‘cause dere’z one funnamental truth: ORCS IZ NEVER BEATEN IN BATTLE! If we win, we win. If we die, we die foightin’ so it don’t count. If we runz for it we don’t lose either, ‘cause we can always come back fer anuvva go!”
DA ALPHA ORC’s lips peel back in a mischievous grin.
“‘Sides, ain’t too much to komplain about, ‘cause Oi’z smashed dem GITZ gud, and now Oi’z get ta grab da SOUTHERN STATES GUBBINZ!”
“The… what?”
Reaching a pond of dark, infested waters, Grimgor opens the jar, and begins swishing it left to right on the pond, catching the unfortunate bugs that get in the way. Once he’s done, he turns back at Kelly, and mimics a belt.
“See, da GUBBINZ are dem shiny fingz some gitz wear on dere bellies. You’z can snazz yerself up with ALL kinds of gubbinz ta make yerself more killy. Da more gubbinz ya got, da more killy yooz are, an’ Grimgor’s DED KILLY, so it’s time Oi kill some BUGZ ta get it!”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow... Bugs?”
“Oi dunno, dat’s just how dat GIT calls ‘imself. Has a question mark in dere too, Oi dunno wot language he’z speakin’. Dunno if he’s s’pposed to be a bug or a rabbit either, wit’ dat white fur and dem bunny earz.
Makes dem kidz scared too, Oi ‘eard he’z chased dem in some oice cream van and got ‘imself smashed fer dat. Dat’s just CREEPY, an’ if yooz think OI’Z da wyrd one, den look at DAT git an’ CALLS ME WYRD AGAIN!”
“You’ll forgive me, sir, if I say that you are not exactly normal.”
Grimgor’s answer is a feral roar, but the brave reporter does not flinch.
“LISSEN ‘ERE, TWIGGY! DAT AIN’T GOT NOTHIN’ TA DO WIT’ ME BEATIN’ DA GROT DUNG OUTTA DIS ‘ERE RABBIT! NOW LET ME TALK TO DAT GIT!”
Breathing heavily now, Grimgor turns towards the camera, pointing his spear right at it.
“Now see Bugz?, rabbit, woteva. Oi’z don’t care wot ya do with yer runty arse, an’ Oi’z might even be makin’ a roight SERVICE to da gitz watchin’ NLW by beatin’ yer bunny earz in, but Oi’z only know one fing.
Oi AIN’T go thru dat scrap, and earn meself dis foight to come up empty, ‘SPESHALLY after dat slow countin’, so Oi’z gonna do da only fing dere’z ta do, and dat’z KRUMPIN’ YA PANSY ARSE GUD!
Now, yooz can send me one of dem tapes like ya sent da Razor GIT, but Oi’z got somefing better for ya, see!”
He now displays the jar, inside which, among the filthy water, several insects are now trapped - flies, bees, and even shiny fireflies.
“Oi’z gonna send yooz deze BUGZ roight ‘ere. It’ll be a larf, see! Nah, fer me and da boyz. Yooz probably gonna be ‘urtin bad, but ain’t NOTHIN’ compared to wot Oi’z do to ya when we’z meet in da HOSTILE INTENT. An’ see, dat’s roight proppa, ‘cause HOSTILE INTENT iz all I got fer ya!”
As the camera focuses on his face, DA ALPHA ORC gnashes his teeth - the look of a berserk warrior let loose.
“Now diz ‘ere foight’s gonna ‘ave tablez, ladderz and chairz. Oi’z don’t NEED ‘em ta kill a rabbit, but dere’z always FUN in seein’ how many diff’rent wayz Oi’z can make yooz squeal before ya die.
Maybe Oi’z drive a ladder THRU a table ONTO a steel chair to yer back. Smash yer spine ROIGHT proppa, if yooz even ’AVE one, and makes you into a foine dinner!”
A rumbling sound is now heard in the utter silence - and Kelly Ross’s stifled laughter - as Grimgor looks at his belly.
“Aw ZOGGIT, now Oi’z hungry. Maybe Oi’s even make a rabbit stew while Oi’m at it, dey’z roight tasty inna stew!”
“Excuse me, sir, but are rabbits even found here?”
“Oi dunno, Oi’z just tryin’ ta get sumfing ta eat before Oi gets me outta dis BUG… INFESTED… ‘ELL’OLE!!!”
Grimgor’s roar reverberates once more, even making the nearby insects flee. Then, he hoists his spear above his head with both hands.
“Now, Bugz?, Oi’z make it simple. Ya got all Oi’z sed, gud. Ya didn’t, don’t matter. Dis is HOSTILE INTENT, and dis is IT, fer me ta win da Southern States Gubbinz…”
*SMASH!*
In a massive strike, Grimgor jams his spear in the ground, and points at it for the camera to zoom.
“And dis is IT, fer you ta DIE.”
And as the camera focuses on him again, it’s time for DA ONCE AND FUTURE GIT to let out his battle cry.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!!!"
Fade to black.
1000 words (wordcounter.net)