Gritting his teeth he vaulted awkwardly over the buggy and landed, hobnailed boots first, on a cowering Bad Skab. Automatically, Soglod stamped hard and was rewarded by the agonising crunch of bone under his foot. Not bothering to aim, he blazed around him with his pistol, and if anything came close enough he kicked it, bit it or punched it. All around he heard the rattle of the Bad Skabs’ weapons, more than once he felt pain as he was hit, but he was used to pain.

 Gorkamorka: Da Uvver Book pg. 99