Orkish Obfuscation

"HWEEEEEEEE! THEESE EES SHO FHUN! HWEE HAFF NHOT PAHRTIED LIKE THEESE EEN DEECHADES!!"

"YA KNOW SHORTIE, FOR AN IGNORANT LITTLE FAKE-WORSHIPER, YOU'RE ALRIGHT!" Fuck. This. Race. This whole fucking thing had been a nightmare ever since they started, and when the nighttime came it was even WORSE. The constant repelling of boarding craft meant the judicious use of their lascannons and multi-lasers, which only brought in MORE orks, which required MORE gun use... the whole thing was a mess.

It didn't exactly start well, either. Enginseer Javran had been extra keen to look for more signals ever since their expedition to the Heathen Star, and in his state of alertness he found another distress signal... a survey ship and a Space Hulk both had collided and fell down to a planet. Despite the fact that it had to be pointed out that the signal was over six hundred years old and that there would be no Mechanicus females that were in need of rescue, Javran still insisted that it would at least be worth it to travel there... after all, a Space Hulk would have plenty to salvage even if it crashed on the planet.

Of course it ALL went wrong the second they got in position to orbit the planet to scout the Hulk. Orks. Fucking Orks had built a whole town around it, and those things bred faster than genetically engineered rabbits due to their spore-like nature. Which SUCKED because it looked like the majority of the Space Hulk, constant tinkering from Orks aside, had been left intact. It was the textbook scenario of high risk, high reward. Red had been about to ask Alicia what her advice was before the green energy and the ozone enveloped the seven of them... and a Mekboy came charging in. "Boss! Boss! We's firin' dat Gitfinda now Boss!"

That was a vaguely insulting welcome.

"Boss! Boss! We's found a git Boss!"

Decima was practically seconds away from turning the Ork's skull into a soup bowl before that MASSIVE Ork in the pimp suit walked up behind them... honestly, Red was surprised they even MADE pimp suits that big. Orks were single gender, for what purpose could one possibly want a pimp suit? And why purple? When has ANYONE even heard of a purple-wearing Ork!? Especially one so massive... the bastard had to have been over thirty feet tall.

When it spoke, it... good heavens, it was like listening to a tuba trying to talk. A tuba that happened to have the essence of Death blessing its voice. "We and I be Abak Manyfingaz my fine lil 'Umie, and you be gon' win fer uz da Kannonball Run..."

Red barely had time to respond before Cultist-chan did a mock salute. "YEHS! HWEE SHAWL WEEN THEES RAYCE FHOR KAY-OHSS!"

Not good...

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DEFINITELY not good. And irritating.

On the plus side, some of the Imps had survived the crash and bred... and they weren't complete lunatics. Partially crazy yes, but not completely crazy. She could deal with this. Graf was like that stereotypical grizzled leader and could keep the team together as well as Alicia could, but by the gods the cigs he smoked... he has GOT to have his nose burned from those things. Destraine was an obscenely chatty girl and seemed to talk with EVERYONE if she could, even got distracted! But the team backed up her navigation skills so that could work. Valten seemed to be as bipolar as one could get, and Soloman was something of the staring type while not bothering to hide it... but they were fairly good mechanics. Good. She needed it for this... because quite frankly, their Support and Salvage vehicle was a piece of shit.

That was saying it LIGHTLY. Sure it worked for what it was meant to do, but as a race vehicle? It'd never last. "Lethe... ...give it to me straight. How bad is this thing going to blow up?" The blonde girl barely even gave the vehicle a glance with her warpfire eyes before just grinning. "Shit's gonna explode, ma'am!"

"Right, that's what I was afraid of... girls, what say we help turn this thing into a righteous beast?"

"YEESH! Hwee shahl whork ohn thee KAY-OHSS KAR!!!"

To Red's surprise the first response wasn't from one of the Sisters, but more from an Ork near the door... when the fuck did he get there. "Erm... I'z waz gon ask fer yer kar name, burt ey. 'E put ye gitz down fer 'Kaos Kar'. Ya gon buy thingz wit' dem Teef?"

The next few minutes was attempting to restrain the Sisters while Cultist-chan jumped around the room claiming 'victory', all while Valten and Soloman took the distraction to make the transactions. It... this was going to be a long, LONG night. Red was looking quite annoyed when she tapped a wall and opened a portal to her Warehouse, her ever-loyal Clank giving a salute. "Oever, get Mr. Handy to whip up some meals, and I need some tools. ...it's gonna be a stressful night."

"THEE KAY-OHSS KAR SHALL WEENZ THEE RAYCE FHOR THEE RU-EENOUSH FHOUUUUR!" "THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS THE FOUR YOU DEFLATED PUPPET!!"  "Girls! Girls no not the compressor I need that!!!"

Sweet. Merciful. Fuck.

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Red was absolutely surprised that they were even still DRIVING.

The whole thing was a fucking mess. The second the race started, five of the racers' vehicles just exploded. No fire, just outright exploded due to faulty engines. Lethe had went bugfuck nuts and blasted as many Doombolts as she could at people while Venera used her Plaguethrower to create 'course hazards' in her words... which meant utterly repulsive pits of contagions that melted metal as easily as flesh. Their vehicle was still DRIPPING red paint due to Graf just buying entire canisters' worth and dumping it on, there was enough spikes to rightfully call it a pin cushion, and the tires were so fat Red could have swore she heard the scream of a misfired Squig get silenced a few minutes ago.

And the Imperials were laughing their asses off. Honest to the gods LAUGHING. She caught Destraine grinning like an idiot as she used the Grabba Klaw to snatch an Ork off one of their motorbikes.. and drop him right in front of the vehicle, letting him get sucked under with only a minor thumping noise to show for it due to the new suspension. "This is great I mean this is more than great I've been here a long time and my ancestors too and their ancestors and I'm totally gonna bet they didn't have as much fun as this and it's really stress-relieving to toy with Orks like this it's really a wonder and OH HEY THERE'S MORE!"

FUCK.

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Events had led to this. The escalation in multi-lasers, lascannons, and the Orks thinking this was the best racing competition EVER. First it was the racers. Then it was random orks seeing all the shooting. Then it came down to night and all the laser cannons and shootas going off made it WORSE. And now here they were, in the middle of the open desert, with all the ex-Chaos Sisters throwing out everything they could just to keep all the Orks attempting boarding parties AWAY... to say nothing of all the Grot missiles and Squigs being thrown their way. The installed defense drones were only just BARELY keeping things back. Simply put, with all of this mess and numbers the resemblance to complete uncontrolled insanity was almost reaching infinity.

"THEESE PAR-TAHY EES EESAHLIE THEE BEEHST! THEE BLOOHD, THEE GHORE, T-... EEEEEE! EEHTS THEE RAIDHER!!!"

The what?

"WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

No. Oh NO. That sudden scream, the sound of the motorbike... FUCK ALL KINDS OF DUCK. One of the chasing Ork vehicles exploded in a cloud of methamphetamine as an armored being with obvious horns and his head on fire rode up on a motorbike. Air guitaring while the bike was flying through, only to land and cause enough explosions behind him to make Michael Bay drop his pants in lust. Doomrider had arrived. WHY. WHY HIM, WHY HERE OF ALL PLACES. What would even be here for h-

"YOOOOOO, NAKED CHICK! THE ONE WITH THE NOISE GEAR! YA GOT SOME SICK TATS, BITCH! I WANNA SNORT SOME JUICE OFF OF THEM!"

What.

To make things worse, Sabine was grinning like an idiot. "NOT JUST ANYONE, FLAMEY HEAD. THINK YOU CAN SNORT ME, YOU GOTTA ROCK ME OFF!" She was... no. Oh no. She was prepping her gear. To make things worse, Doomrider just stood on his motorbike and leaned in. "I DUNNO GIRL, GOTTA GET ME GOIN' FIRST. WHAT DRUGS YOU GOT ON THAT THING, WHO CAN I SNORT?"

Oh no. No no no, this shit needed to be taken care of NOW. Thank the gods she could summon things from the Warehouse... a syringe. A slab of meat. Red injected the meat quickly before casting a spell and setting it on fire before tossing it to the flame-headed Daemon, the smoke and vapors getting into his face. ...a face that started to look like he was seriously tripping the fuck out.

Mental note to self, Gourmet Cell-enhanced Terraformar meat are an acceptable drug for crackheads.

"Yes. Yeeeeeees. Yes yes yes YES YES YES YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!!!! I CAN TASTE COLORS! I CAN FEEL THE SOUND, I CAN TOUCH GRAVITY! YES! YEEEEES, BITCH WE'RE HAVING A ROCKOFF! MUSIC! RIGHT NOW BITCH LET'S DO THIS LET'S MAKE SOME NOOOIIIIIIIIISE!" Before anyone could say otherwise, Sabine cranked her equipment up all the way and Doomrider's guitar turned into this cloud of flame and drugs that trailed vapors behind him... and then the noise.

That HORRIBLE NOISE. It was like someone took DJ Fresh's 'Gold Dust' and put two sound junkies to butcher it as much as they could... and to make things worse, the drones all started to blare the actual song so loud the vehicle actually started to shake from the sheer bass.

This whole thing was a fucking clusterfuck. No, that was no longer the proper word. She had to INVENT a word now.

Of course, somehow despite the loud blasts Destraine keyed in a comm. "BOSS BOSS BOSS YOUR FRIENDS AT THE SHIT WE'VE NEVER HAD FUN LIKE THIS BEFORE THERE'S ORKS FLYING AND DYING AND THIS SHIT IS AMAZING AND THERE'S WAAAAAY MORE ORKS COMING NOW WE'RE GONNA HAVE A DEATH PARTY AND WE'RE SERVING BLOOD COCKTAAAAAAAAILS~"

So the Imps were apparently going crazy from the entertainment value, Sabina and Doomrider were having a moving rock-off session... Decima and Lethe decided there wasn't ENOUGH light and started to spam fire and not-magic like a fat man spamming spells at a raid, Venera and Alicia were taking care of the ABYSMALLY massive amount of Orks that was starting to choke the landscape around them... and Cultist-chan was attempting to dance around her Chaos Wheel. "HWEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!"

There was no such thing as a kind and loving benefactor, for such a being would have struck Red dead than put up with this horrible nightmare of chaos.