“ ‘Ey Boss ya got a minute?” Big Mek Wheelcutta’s grot oiler, Nuthead called to his master, who was currently fixing a couple of bolts to a hastily cobbled together rifle.
“Wut iz it ya little snot?” Wheelcutta replied without looking up from his work, “Did Uggax drive ahead again?”
Nuthead looked up nervously setting down his pair of ocular-squigs he was using to watch the speedboss face off against the noble imperial watchdogs.
“Yea and he got krumped right good, da ‘uman stompas slagged ‘is trike with those big gra-vi-ty kannon they gots.”
Wheelcutta angrily kicked the gun-stand holding his rifle over, “DAT ZOGGIN GROT-BRAIN! Iz tolds ‘im ta watch THE ZOGGIN TRIKES PAINT! ‘An what does he do, he gets it right scratched.”
“Oh he got it a bit more than scratched Boss.” Nuthead replied, a mischievous smile starting to snake it’s way across his face. “Lookz more like it’s been completely scrapped up In a ball; ya think Uggax made it?”
Wheelcutta slowly collected the rifle off the ground and hefted it over his great green shoulder. “Oh he better not ‘ave, cuz I’m gonna give ‘Im won of deez” Before Nuthead had any time to react, Wheelcutta flicked a red switch upon his kustom weapon and took careful aim at Nuthead; the unfortunate grot let out a squeal of terror as the weapon started to buzz with a odd blue and white energy. The Big Mek pulled a scrappy trigger, and a great blast echoed throughout the workshop. Nuthead screamed as a bolt of energy pulsed through him, searing pain engulfed his form and soon the Grot was no more. Wheelcutta let out a satisfied grunt and turned to leave his shop, he knew that this was only the beginning of the fight and that Uggax wouldn’t back out so early.
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