Warboss Shidshod was faced with a couple of problems. Some might say these problems could be described as "critical". Either way, these problems would potentially pose a distraction from his favored order of business, which typically consisted of breaking heads, tearing folk limb from limb, and blowing things up as spectacularly as possible right at the forefront of the action...
"Ere, Glob, take down deez orderz. I needz sum ladz to sort sum fingz out. For da war effort an' dat," Shidshod said to his hapless grot skivvy. "Now, deez fingz wot needz sortin' out, dey requires a certain buncha ladz."
"Yes boss," squeaked Glob.
"First off, get dat lazy git Spagbol to extract dem sneaky ladz from da jungle. You know da ones. Dem Deff Skullz ladz. For starterz, dere iz dat mad git wot cut 'iz own tongue out fer a bet. Eez called "Silent" or some hoomie type of fing like dat. An' we wantz dat Nob wot hangs about wid'im n'all. Jizzlobba I fink eez called. N' dat runty 'un dat alwayz hangz about wiv 'em. Da one wiv big teef, like."
"Yes boss,"
"And anuvver fing, n'all. Wotz dat prick wiv da' funny 'at called?"
"Well boss, da fing iz, loadz of da ladz has funny 'atz and dat..."
"Dat iz a true fact. I needz to look ta restorin' some discipline wiv deez idiotz. Dey don't even look like proper boyz, summovum. Dressin' up like dem girly elf-thingz with da pointy 'atz an'dat," pondered Shidshod to himself. "Da very one wot I meanz iz dat big 'un what 'az all dem big gunz and fancy fingz. Fancy coat."
"Da one wot got kicked out of da Bad Moonz tribe fer 'avin' too many teef n' dressin' like a proper wazzock?" suggested Glob.
"Ere, you better watch your lip, young Glob, you tricksy swine. Eez still a ork, and youz still a runt at the end of da day. But yeah, ee should fit da bill right smart." Shidshod paused to scratch an armpit and then looked down. "You still 'ere, Glob? Wot you waitin' for? I ain't got all day, av' I? And while yer at it, fetch us sum bulletz n'all."
