Ork serjery is hilarious

All well and good, only the boss’ heart wouldn’t start. I’d tried squishing it with my hands. I’d tried getting the spare one going first. I’d tried sticking the sparky end of a sliced-through cable into the middle of it. I’ll be honest, I’d even tried battering it with a wrench, just in case. But the zoggin’ thing just sat there between the boss’ ribs, cold and rubbery, refusing even to twitch.
The bombs were falling now, of course. But I had to keep trying. So, with my making-things-bigger goggles on and a glow-squig between my teeth, I pushed my head right inside the Prophet’s chest for a proper look. At least it was a break from the smell of squig turds.
I don’t really know what I expected to find in there. But as it turned out, I was in luck. The problem was stupidly simple, actually. Shining my light through the walls of the boss’ main bloodpipes, I saw the biggest one coming out of his heart was all blocked up. I spent a good while squinting at it, trying to work out what it might have been, when I remembered I’d injected him with molten plastek a few days previously. Supposedly, it’d been a cure for the rashes on his neck – which I’d also caused, with a swab dipped in used reaktor coolant – but really it’d just been a bit of spite on my part. For a moment there, I almost regretted having done it.
Especially when something started cutting its way through the wall.
As soon as I managed to pull my head out of the boss, I saw sparks flying, and I knew that the fierce, white-orange square drawing itself slowly across the inner hull could only mean one thing. We’d taken so long to invade the beaches, that the zoggin’ humans were invadin’ us.
Before that moment, I’d been coming up with a dead elegant plan for clearing the boss’ bloodpipes. But that had to go down the drops sharpish: this was no time for fancy surgery. Knowing I’d have to go with my gut, I stopped any sort of straight-line-thinking, and solved the problem like any good ork.
That’ll do, I thought, spotting a skinny, jagged little banner-pole sticking up from Ghazghkull’s shoulder armour. Twisting it off with a neat little snap, I peered back into the boss’ open chest, poked my tongue between my tusks to make my aim better, and jabbed him right in the ventrikular arteree with the sharp end.
Two things happened at once, then. There was a big, gurgling pop from Ghazghkull’s heart as it unclogged itself and started beating, and a massive hollow clang from behind me, as the cut section of hull fell through. The whole chamber filled with smoke, and I had to use my rivetgun blind to close the incision, accidentally putting two bolts through my hand in the process. But I closed it, and as I swept the worst of the muck from the seal, I could feel the thud of the boss’ heart through the skin.

Mad Dok