“For a while, the ork Gods smiled upon Scaz of the Red Eye, and he had great strength and courage on the field. He did wonderful things for the Disciples, and actually scored touch-downs and what not. Then Gork let out a loud and smelly fart, and Mork hit him upside the head. Both laughed out loud for quite a while, and meanwhile, disaster struck.

Confident of his Gods watchful eye and favor, Scaz bloted down the field, ball held in hand. He went all-out, his powerful legs pumping like mad, blood pumping and his mind, otherwise filled with bloodshed and aggression, now focused only one one thing - the touchdown.

Now - it is understandable for an ork to overlook something as minor as a rock in the grass of the pitch. Understandable also that he should stumble and fall. But comprehension fails to grasp the fact that this stout and strong ork should meet his makers (and smell the divine fart that is the real cause of all this) because of a small stumble.

Scaz died in this game. The team needs a new captain, but no tears are shed, for all orks know Morg and Gork will soon belch out the soul of the fallen warrior again, to take up residence in a new ork and rejoin the battle for supremacy. Also, orks don't give a shit.

Now for the interview:

Q: So - another painful defeat, this time by dwarves. How does that feel, Hurg?

A: Like dis, stoopid humie *stab, stab, stab, gouge, cut, main, stab*

Q: Argh! *wheeze* help, someone, please?? *gurgle*

*Chop, slash, stomp*

*death rattle*”