'Umie Huntin'

"We're seriously goin' through wid this?"
"Quiet, Blue."
"I'll quiet down when we're done bein' daft."
"'Ere, et dis. It'll calm ya down. Dun wonders fer me when we wuz sneakin' around da desert world, krumpin' 'umies an' mirages."
"This... is a rock." She gave Rockeata a look, "I shouldn't be surprised."
The Kommandos were camped out just outside a clearing on this jungle world, and Blue was starting to get annoyed. The heat and humidity was one thing and the bugs were completely another. The air felt ten or twenty pounds heavier than normal and she swore a mini waterfall was starting between her butt cheeks. Squatting to avoid sitting in Gork-knows-whut didn't help matters any. A few of the Orks had taken off their helmets to sit on, but with the spiky bit Blue's helmet had... Well, it wasn't exactly an option.
"I'm tellin' you, there's no zoggin' way this'll work."
"Which wunna us iz da Kommando 'ere? Now shut yer trap or I'll krump ya like da grot you iz." Rockeata gave her a not very light tap on side, pushing her over. Into the Mork-dun-wanna-know-whut.

In the middle of the clearing, surrounded with leaves where the rest of the jungle floor was suspiciously clear, was a cloth bag. It was obviously full of sticks and stones and bugs and whatever else they could find on the jungle floor that didn't try to poison them. Sticking from the middle of the bag was a crudely made sign that read SPESS MAREEN FUD.
This was Rockeata's cunnin' plan to catch some fat 'umies. Well, part two.

Part one came running over momentarily. A grot fell over his own feet into the clearing, whimpering. Behind him the jungle echoed with gunfire and calls of "KILL THE GREENSKINS" and "EXTERMINATE THE XENO" and a few shouts of "FOR THE EMPEROR." The grot whimpered and looked around, not seeing the Orks that promised they'd be waiting for him here. He only just picked himself up again when the top half of his body splattered to a bolter round. The space marines then crashed into the clearing themselves, four of them.
...And seeing that the object of their pursuit lay dead at their feet, they calmed down as quickly as they could, and then scanned the clearing. The leaves, the fake rations pack, the SPESS MAREEN FUD sign.
Blue shook her head. There was no way. There was absolutely no way they'd fall for it. No way.
"Look brothers, a rations pack!"
Gork be praised.

"Hold, Brother Bernard, take another look at this layout. It seems too convenient. This may be a trap."
"I agree, Brother Bailey, let us first disturb the leaves, they may be concealing treachery!"
The marines shot into leaves with a splash.
"As expected, quicksand. we must be cautious when recovering these rations, brothers."
They walked carefully into the clearing to the edge of the quicksand and started considering retrieval.
"Do we get ta krump them now?" Blue watched intently over the bolder she was hiding behind, she was itching to try her new invention.
"You eat dat rock yet?"
Then Mr. Squig flew by from opposite end of the clearing, followed by shouts and gunfire. He dumped his payload of gray powder into the quicksand and disappeared into the canopy before the Space Marines could could draw a bead. Part one b.

Four Chaos Marines burst into the clearing.

"TRAITOR MARINES."
"LOYALIST SCUM."
"QUICKLY BROTHERS, WE MUST SECURE THE RATIONS PACK BEFORE CHAOS CAN CORRUPT IT."
"WE WILL CAPTURE YOUR RATIONS PACK FOR THE GLORY OF CHAOS."
"GLORY TO THE EMPEROR!"
"DEATH TO THE FALSE EMPEROR"

The clearing exploded with bolter fire as three marines from each side gave covering fire for the fourth Marine that waded into the quicksand, which was looking quite gray and was slowing.
"WHAT TREACHERY IS THIS?"
"WHAT HAVE YOU LOYALISTS DONE TO THE QUICKSAND?"
Both chest deep and halfway to the rations pack, the two marines were stuck in the quickly solidifying cement.

"NOW, YA GITZ!" In the momentary confusion, the Kommandos from all around opened fire, and Blue hammered her big red button home.

Steel netting, which took zoggin' fereva to weave, shot up from the dirt around the two groups of marines. They were lifted up into the air, a mess of limbs and bulky packs. Swinging back and forth, the two nets eventually collided with each other with a crunch and got entangled. Loyalist Marines breathing down the necks of Traitor Marines and vice versa, with neither group able to do anything about it.

Firing stopped. The marines weren't in any position to discharge their firearms, and the Orks were all too busy laughing. Six marines in the air, dangling. two more entrapped in now tightly packed cement. The rations pack lay there, covered in gray powder but otherwise unmolested. With nothing else to do, the Marines began shouting threats at each other and the Orks to add to the wonderful cacophony.

It was a good day to be a Scraploota.