Zizzbitz's odd mood

Big mek Tinka Zizzbitz was in odd mood.

So as the ork walked along the gouged trail of Boris as the Titan-Ork slowly cut a path through the small human city, he was barely paying attentions to his surroundings. Choppy and shooty ideas floated through his mind, even as he passed a pile of smoking squig corpses. Charred earth and bits of glass crunched under his peg leg as he traced his way around a fallen support pillar. A human body squished when he stepped on it, and Zizzbitz absently muttered “’Scuse me” and kept walking. Truly, he was lost in thought.

This trance-like state ended when a distant explosion echoed through the ruined buildings, barley auditory over the cacophony of Boris’s slaughter. Zizzbitz’s head snapped around, looking towards the origin of the faint sound. Executing a neat turn on his peg leg, he began walking towards the source of the explosion, ignoring all else, not speaking to anyone.

“Hot damn, tinhead!” The blond ganger remarked, staring at the smoking remains of several orks and grots. “That thing is the most beautiful piece of jury-rigging I’ve ever seen!” The tech-priest beamed, or would have beamed if his face had been human enough to do so. “The Omnissiah granted me his blessing in order to assist in the defeat of that walking double-heresy machine!” The cyborg loudly proclaimed, “With his assistance, it was mere folly to fashion a grenade launcher from a lasgun and household appliances!”

“Shush, tinhead!” The redhead ganger hissed, racking the aforementioned weapon in her lap. “If the greenskins didn’t hear the explosion, they’ll hear /you/!” “Come on, honey, they’re probably all worried about that robot of theirs.” A man in a commissar outfit slid up next to the blond ganger. “Of course, they could always be hearing a different kind of battle, if you know what I mean…”

“Shut up, Max!” The blond and the redhead barked simultaneously. Then a large green hand suddenly picked up the grenade launcher out of the redhead’s hands.

“’Dis is some good dakka,” Tinka muttered, rolling the makeshift weapon in his hands. The design was muckin’ about a little, and it could always use more dakka, but that could be fixed… “TECH-HERETIC!” somebody suddenly screeched. Tinka dragged his eyes away from his new toy and saw a mek-humie being pinned to the floor by a girlie and a commissar-humie. He then looked down at the other girlie, who was looking up at him with a strange mix of fear and fascination. She ‘as a metal eye like me, Zizzbitz mused.

“Tell ya wot,” The mekboy announced. “Since I’m in a good mood, an’ you gits ‘ave given me some free dakka, I’ll let ya go.” The one-legged ork turned and exited the room, muffled curses and accusations of desecrating one of the Emperor’s sacred war-machines.

A grot spasmed wildly, then exploded. A cheer went up from the assembled group of orks, and Zizzbitz hoisted the now properly orky “Zizzbit’s Patented Elektrical Bomb Launcha” onto his shoulder. “’Dat Mek-humie made some good dakka,” he mused. “Maybe I should try to find ‘im again.”