Da Numbaz Don't Lie (Hostile Intent #2)
May 26, 2022 14:28:17 GMT -5
Drag, Bugz?, and 1 more like this
Post by Grimgor Ironhide on May 26, 2022 14:28:17 GMT -5
This time, the camera opens to a brightly lit room. A bare room, four sets of walls, and a whiteboard in the middle - almost as if a classroom were set-up in some random locker room inside the Lakefront Arena.
“OI! KEEP DAT RACKET DOWN YA SQUEALIN’ RUNTZ! OI’Z FINKIN’!”
The camera crew that has just entered this classroom is greeted by Grimgor Ironhide’s nasty shout as he turns towards them with a sudden movement and fury written on his face.
“Ya GITZ just caught me doin’ some, uh- kalkulayshuns. Dis Bugz? git mentioned numbaz so Oi’z had ta figure out wot da ZOG he was talkin’ about.”
DA ONCE AND FUTURE GIT then turns back at the whiteboard - covered with wild scribbling in green Sharpie.
By the looks of the various rough, almost infantile characters, it is as if a complex mathematical equation was being drawn, but on second glance, it looks like the same math being drawn, then slashed, then drawn all over again, in an ongoing and seemingly endless cycle. Meanwhile Grimgor, Sharpie in hand, takes the other hand to his chin.
“One, free, carry da…”
After a - rather long - silent pause, Grimgor slams one fist into the whiteboard, roaring in apparent frustration.
“AW, ZOG DIS BUGZ? RABBIT AN’ DEM BIRDY GITZ! If Oi wanted to do maff, Oi’z wudn’t be ‘ere roight now! Dat’s fer Meks, dat iz!”
DA ALPHA ORC turns back towards the camera once more, teeth gritted and a fiery glint in his eyes.
“But seriously, rabbit! Numbaz? Yooz want ta talk about NUMBAZ!?”
Grimgor erupts in his mirthless laughter - a laughter no one would want to hear in their nightmares, let alone in reality.
“HAHAHAHA! GORK’N’MORK! Dis squealin’ runt finks his birdy mates and dat uvva piggy are gonna be any ‘elp! As if I ain’t already seen dat pig face he wuz hangin’ with not krump ONE measly GIT in dat Supa Scramble!”
The Orc’s laughter ceases, but his gnashed teeth grin remains - betrayed by his eyes filled with hostile intent.
“Yer funny, Bugz? Rabbit, but I ain’t got no time for yer puny GITZ. Now Oi’z DA BIGGEST ORC, but Oi know very well how ya SNOTLINGS like scamperin’ and mukkin’ about instead of bringin’ a proppa foight, and Oi sez dat don’t matter one squig’s arse. Yooz can come by yerself, or yooz can bring’em all, and Oi’z gonna give dem dere own roight proppa krumpin’, cause Oi’z DA ALPHA ORC AND OI’Z GONNA STOMP YOU ALL!
But Oi AIN’T stupid, see. Oi ‘eard yer bleatin’ with ya mates, and turns out, OI’z got sume numbaz for ya, Rabbit.”
Grabbing a nearby eraser, Grimgor starts cleaning the whiteboard, before drawing a crude depiction of a table with four legs.
“See, dis ‘ere’z yer regular table. It’z got FOUR legz ta support da base on which Oi’z gonna lay ya out after Oi’z given ya a GUD stompin’.”
He draws a number 4 on the whiteboard, right above the table, and then, he draws a folding ladder on the whiteboard, with six rungs on each side.
“And DIS ‘ERE’s a step-ladder. Dere’z many sizes of ’em out dere, but da onez we know in deze ‘ere foights got SIX rungz on each side. Dat’z wot Oi’z gonna bash ya with when yer on dat table Oi said earlier. Which means we now ‘ave ta add a numba SIX!”
Grimgor draws a number 6 above the ladder, a plus sign between the table and the ladder, and another plus sign next to a folding chair, above which is another number 4.
“And NOW, we’z got ourselfs a chair. Datz FOUR more legs yooz gonna break thru once I hit ya wiv dat ladder on da table! Put dat all together and we’z got FOURTEEN!”
DA ALPHA ORC draws an equal sign, then a 14 number. After this, he raises a hand, motioning to wait.
“OI! HANG ON A SQUIG, WE AIN’T DONE ‘ERE YET! ‘Cause see, I ain’t gonna do dis to ya JUST once, Rabbit. Just fer good measure, Oi’z gonna go thru it ALLL over again, but diff’rent! Oi’z gonna grab da chair, leap off da ladder, and smash it ROIGHT in ya belly through another table! And dat means we gotta multiply dis ‘ere maff, fourteen times TWO!”
Grimgor now draws a “x2” next to the 14, and the resulting calculation now is clearly displayed on the board:
4 + 6 + 4 = 14 x 2 = 28
DA ALPHA ORC turns around, begins scribbling rapidly on the board.
“And fourteen times two gives us TWENTY-EIGHT! Dat’s a roight PERFECT number, see, ‘cause it equalz da sum of itz positive divisorz. Which iz:
ONE GIT oi’z get ta stomp.
TWO tables dat are gonna break.
FOUR GITZ ta carry yer sorry hide outta dere in a stretcher,
SEVEN PM, da time of da show,
FOURTEEN, da combined tablez, ladderz and chairz legs,
and MAY TWENTY-EIGHT, da DAY ALL OF YA GITZ GET TA SEE DIS, at NLW HOSTILE INTENT!”
Once he turns around, Grimgor points at the board, the eerie equivalent of a beaming smile on his face. And on the board, under the previous calculation, are the following divisions:
28/1 = 28
28/2 = 14
28/4 = 7
28/7 = 4
28/14 = 2
28/28 = 1
“See Bugz? DA NUMBAZ DON’T LIE, and dey sez Oi’z gonna give you da PERFECT stompin’ at Hostile Intent! So make yer sorry hide ready, get yer mates ta carry outta dat dere ring, and get some polish ‘andy, ‘cause GRIMGOR IZ COMIN’, AND ‘E’Z GONNA TAKE DA SOUTHERN STATES GUBBINZ!”
Grimgor grabs the whiteboard and tosses it aside, the crashing sound audibly resonating throughout the whole room. His message now done, it’s time for him to end in the only way fitting for an Orc - the blood-curdling battle cry that shall shake the very world to its core…
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!!!"
Fade to black.
1000 words (wordcounter.net)
“OI! KEEP DAT RACKET DOWN YA SQUEALIN’ RUNTZ! OI’Z FINKIN’!”
The camera crew that has just entered this classroom is greeted by Grimgor Ironhide’s nasty shout as he turns towards them with a sudden movement and fury written on his face.
“Ya GITZ just caught me doin’ some, uh- kalkulayshuns. Dis Bugz? git mentioned numbaz so Oi’z had ta figure out wot da ZOG he was talkin’ about.”
DA ONCE AND FUTURE GIT then turns back at the whiteboard - covered with wild scribbling in green Sharpie.
By the looks of the various rough, almost infantile characters, it is as if a complex mathematical equation was being drawn, but on second glance, it looks like the same math being drawn, then slashed, then drawn all over again, in an ongoing and seemingly endless cycle. Meanwhile Grimgor, Sharpie in hand, takes the other hand to his chin.
“One, free, carry da…”
After a - rather long - silent pause, Grimgor slams one fist into the whiteboard, roaring in apparent frustration.
“AW, ZOG DIS BUGZ? RABBIT AN’ DEM BIRDY GITZ! If Oi wanted to do maff, Oi’z wudn’t be ‘ere roight now! Dat’s fer Meks, dat iz!”
DA ALPHA ORC turns back towards the camera once more, teeth gritted and a fiery glint in his eyes.
“But seriously, rabbit! Numbaz? Yooz want ta talk about NUMBAZ!?”
Grimgor erupts in his mirthless laughter - a laughter no one would want to hear in their nightmares, let alone in reality.
“HAHAHAHA! GORK’N’MORK! Dis squealin’ runt finks his birdy mates and dat uvva piggy are gonna be any ‘elp! As if I ain’t already seen dat pig face he wuz hangin’ with not krump ONE measly GIT in dat Supa Scramble!”
The Orc’s laughter ceases, but his gnashed teeth grin remains - betrayed by his eyes filled with hostile intent.
“Yer funny, Bugz? Rabbit, but I ain’t got no time for yer puny GITZ. Now Oi’z DA BIGGEST ORC, but Oi know very well how ya SNOTLINGS like scamperin’ and mukkin’ about instead of bringin’ a proppa foight, and Oi sez dat don’t matter one squig’s arse. Yooz can come by yerself, or yooz can bring’em all, and Oi’z gonna give dem dere own roight proppa krumpin’, cause Oi’z DA ALPHA ORC AND OI’Z GONNA STOMP YOU ALL!
But Oi AIN’T stupid, see. Oi ‘eard yer bleatin’ with ya mates, and turns out, OI’z got sume numbaz for ya, Rabbit.”
Grabbing a nearby eraser, Grimgor starts cleaning the whiteboard, before drawing a crude depiction of a table with four legs.
“See, dis ‘ere’z yer regular table. It’z got FOUR legz ta support da base on which Oi’z gonna lay ya out after Oi’z given ya a GUD stompin’.”
He draws a number 4 on the whiteboard, right above the table, and then, he draws a folding ladder on the whiteboard, with six rungs on each side.
“And DIS ‘ERE’s a step-ladder. Dere’z many sizes of ’em out dere, but da onez we know in deze ‘ere foights got SIX rungz on each side. Dat’z wot Oi’z gonna bash ya with when yer on dat table Oi said earlier. Which means we now ‘ave ta add a numba SIX!”
Grimgor draws a number 6 above the ladder, a plus sign between the table and the ladder, and another plus sign next to a folding chair, above which is another number 4.
“And NOW, we’z got ourselfs a chair. Datz FOUR more legs yooz gonna break thru once I hit ya wiv dat ladder on da table! Put dat all together and we’z got FOURTEEN!”
DA ALPHA ORC draws an equal sign, then a 14 number. After this, he raises a hand, motioning to wait.
“OI! HANG ON A SQUIG, WE AIN’T DONE ‘ERE YET! ‘Cause see, I ain’t gonna do dis to ya JUST once, Rabbit. Just fer good measure, Oi’z gonna go thru it ALLL over again, but diff’rent! Oi’z gonna grab da chair, leap off da ladder, and smash it ROIGHT in ya belly through another table! And dat means we gotta multiply dis ‘ere maff, fourteen times TWO!”
Grimgor now draws a “x2” next to the 14, and the resulting calculation now is clearly displayed on the board:
4 + 6 + 4 = 14 x 2 = 28
DA ALPHA ORC turns around, begins scribbling rapidly on the board.
“And fourteen times two gives us TWENTY-EIGHT! Dat’s a roight PERFECT number, see, ‘cause it equalz da sum of itz positive divisorz. Which iz:
ONE GIT oi’z get ta stomp.
TWO tables dat are gonna break.
FOUR GITZ ta carry yer sorry hide outta dere in a stretcher,
SEVEN PM, da time of da show,
FOURTEEN, da combined tablez, ladderz and chairz legs,
and MAY TWENTY-EIGHT, da DAY ALL OF YA GITZ GET TA SEE DIS, at NLW HOSTILE INTENT!”
Once he turns around, Grimgor points at the board, the eerie equivalent of a beaming smile on his face. And on the board, under the previous calculation, are the following divisions:
28/1 = 28
28/2 = 14
28/4 = 7
28/7 = 4
28/14 = 2
28/28 = 1
“See Bugz? DA NUMBAZ DON’T LIE, and dey sez Oi’z gonna give you da PERFECT stompin’ at Hostile Intent! So make yer sorry hide ready, get yer mates ta carry outta dat dere ring, and get some polish ‘andy, ‘cause GRIMGOR IZ COMIN’, AND ‘E’Z GONNA TAKE DA SOUTHERN STATES GUBBINZ!”
Grimgor grabs the whiteboard and tosses it aside, the crashing sound audibly resonating throughout the whole room. His message now done, it’s time for him to end in the only way fitting for an Orc - the blood-curdling battle cry that shall shake the very world to its core…
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!!!"
Fade to black.
1000 words (wordcounter.net)