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Mak Gidgit - The Trouble With Smartboyz

Submitted By: Date: April 20, 2006, 04:20:29 AM Views: 3424
Summary: Gidgit was asleep, lying on his back on one of his workbenches in his hastily built workshop. His left leg was dangling a bit and every now and then, his toes on that foot would twitch. He must have been having a good a dream as he mumbled about something violent in his sleep. He was completely unaware that boss Ugzob was on his way to see where the Mork that mekboy was.

Ugzob was not in a good mood. He’d had to suffer the indecency of being laughed at by the rest of the boyz, when Gidgit’s not so perfect silent’ers, didn’t quite match up to the enthusiasm and kraftsmenship the mekboy placed behind them when he handed over these shoota kontraptions to Ugzob and his Greenthingy Kommandos. The first shot they’d fired when they were infiltrating an Imperial position out in the ruins was heard over a mile away. Everybody knew Gidgit’s kontraptions had a one in three chance of failing.

Barely three kommandos made it back with Ugzob. Poor Snikrot was undergoing sergery right now, he had limped back a right mess. Boss Ugzob was at the side door into the workshop that Gidgit had setup in the first floor of a partially destroyed multi-levelled building in a Commercia district.

“Gidgit you Mork dis’gracing git, open dis door fore I bash it down!” yelled Ugzob as he hammered on the metal door.

Gidgit awoke with a startle, “Wat, Wat, Wat?”

“Open da door Gigdit fore I rethink at stopin’ n’ blasting your knee caps away!" Yelled Ugzob once more.

“Well if youz gonna be like dat then ther’s no way I’m openin dat door, anyway watz the problm?”

“Open da damn door!” Without waiting to see if Gidgit would open up, Ugzob blew several large holes in the door in attempt to unlock it. He missed the lock.

“Wat da Gork! Ugzob you madgit, put da gun down and turn da knob”, Gidgit said as he hastily picked up his beloved, Splatterer, his over-kustomised shoota.

The door hadn’t been locked and Ugzob hadn’t checked. Ugzob turned the knob, and stepped into the barely lit room and came face to face with a comically looking situation with Gidgit holding a ridiculous large gun pointed directly at the nob’s head, a twitchy Gidgit looking down the crosshairs.

“Da gun Ugzob”

“Ok, ok, iz put it down” Ugzob wasn’t afraid of anything, it just didn’t wanna get himself “perished” fighting some weedy mekboy. He’d be laughed at for decades to come if he did.

“Wat you want Ugzob? And why’d you do dat to da door?” asked Gidgit, his fingers itching to try out the kustom blasta.

“Why? U Smartgit, dem silent’ers gotz me boyz perished. Day didn’t work da way u said day wo-odm”. Ugzob was quite obviously peeved. “Put down da gun Gidgit I ain’t gonna urt you... much”, he said followed by what was suppose to be a grin. Gidgit pulled the trig...

There was just a simple trigger clicking noise then nothin, being a true Ork Ugzob hadn’t flinched. He was now grinning even more.

“Hehehehe, looks lik it dain’t work der Gidgit. Now’z you gonna die”, said Ugzob as he pulled the rusty knife out of his belt, and began to approach Gidgit.

Gidgit started to back away as he hastily flicked various switches on the Kustom Blasta. He raised the gun and pulled the trigger once more.


Ok it was a louder more impressive click, but not the desired explosive result. Ugzob lifted his ugly head as he let out a very horrible and quite disturbing laugh, he then charged as Gidgit hastily fiddled again. Ugzob pushed past the large gun sticking quite atrociously out in front of Gidgit and grabbed him by the chain around his head that dangling with various odd mechanical pieces, and raised the knife high to strike. “Now’z you diez”.

Gidgit pushed the barrel of the Kustom into Ugzobz chest and pulled the trigger once more. Ugzob paused as the gun made a whirring sound before firing with spectacular results. Gidgit picked himself up from the ground where he had been thrown, some ten feet. Bits of what one would assume was Ugzob were plastered onto the walls behind where he had been standing. Gidgit himself had been drenched in blood.

“One in three Ugzob...”

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