Chapters Tales of Angrish
Part One: WHERE THE @#$! AM I?
The chaos marine emerged over the lip of the battered wall, roaring in savage glee as he fired his bolter into the fleeing and panicking guardsmen beyond. Next to him several other of his battle brothers scrambled over the rubble to get to grips with the enemy. A pair of noise marines clambered over the wall next to him and unleashed their sonic weapons into the Imperial line, the sounds of their high-pitched laughter cutting through the sounds of battle.
"WHAT THE FUCKING SHIT? ANOTHER SLAANESHI GAYLORD WARBAND. GODDAMNIT, IF I EVER SEE YOU AGAIN I'LL RIP THAT FUCKING MAKEUP FROM YOUR FACE YOU INSECURE RHINOCEROUS!!" Pounder yelled as he smashed a surprised Chaos marine across the face with his power chair. The blow sent the marine hurtling to the ground, a ragged tear across his armour from where the chair’s crackling power field had effortlessly cut through.I DIDN’T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF HOW FUCKING ANGRY I AM! ” Pounder roared, pummelling the overeager warrior into the mud with another swing of his power chair.
“GOD FUCKING DAMMIT! I’M GOING TO FIND THAT COCKSUCKER AND TEAR HIM AN NEW ARSEHOLE.” He looked around at the swirling vortexes of emotion and insanity that was the warp. Hell wouldn’t be a bad description for it. Any mortal would have driven insane from even a moment of exposure to the raw energy of the warp, but Pounder was so angry he disregarded it like he would a Tyranid Ripper under the sole of his boot. He let out a choice collection of four letter swears and curses. An eternity of floating through the warp did not appeal to Pounder. As he floated, a dim circle appeared near him and started intensifying until it shone with a brilliant blue aura. Sudden it split apart and a large warship ploughed through, oblivious to the stranded marine.
After several seconds of cursing and fighting off daemons with his bare fists and almost tangible anger, Pounder crawled through the makeshift portal and in an unusual show of responsibility, sealed it back up to prevent the warp energy from leaking through.
“So what are you?” Twilight asked. The pair had been walking for a little while now, Pounder complaining about how bright, cheerful and ‘Gay’ everything was. He apparently was in severe pain from all the ‘Faggotry’ everywhere.
Tales of Angrish
Part Two: MORE SLAANESHI FAGS?
A resounding crash sounded through the Carousel Boutique, making Rarity jump in fright.
Pounder’s eye twitched violent, the movement transferring to his helmet lenses as the knee high pony bounced around him in a sickeningly cheerful manner. He wasn’t sure whether the bright shade of ‘FAGGOT PINK’ or her obnoxious singing was more rage inducing.
Rarity opened her eyes and nearly fainted at the sight of the mighty war machine now idling in her shop. What was more surprising though, was to see Pinkie riding on the turret, an insane grin on her face. A short, stocky beast leaned out of a turret hatch next to her, a cigar that emanated power and manliness clenched firmly between his teeth.
YOU’RE A FUCKING SLEDGEHAMMER.
Tale of Angrish
“Come on Applejack, you can do better than that.” Rainbow jeered as Applejack slipped over her.
“Ah’m not a sledgehammer!” Applebloom cried as Pounder swung her up and down.
“I don’t think we’ll be seeing him again.” Applejack chuckled, moving over the crumbled remains of the barn to help Rainbow Dash.
Tales of Angrish
Part four: BUTTER
For the third time that day, Pounder hauled himself out of a crater with a flurry of curses.
“BUTTERSTICK, WHERE’D YOU GO?” Pounder yelled as he trekked through the forest, power chair in hand. “PROMISE I WON’T HURT YOU. OK I’M LYING, I’M GOING TO RIP YOUR FUCKING LITTLE HEAD OFF AND WEAR IT AS A HAT.”NO !”I SAID NO YOU YELLOW DICK-ENCRUSTED PIECE OF SHIT .” Fluttershy boomed, her voice making Pounder’s seem baby like.SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH YOU PUSSY. YOU THINK YOU’RE ANGRY? I’M FUCKING ANGRY, FAGGOT .”"NO ONE TRIES TO HURT ME OR MY FRIENDS GOT IT DICKHEAD?" Fluttershy roared, glaring into Pounder's eyes."DO YOU WANT TO BE A RIBBON ON A FUCKING CHRISTMAS PRESENT?" I SUPPOSE YOU’RE PRETTY GOOD AT BEING ANGRY .” Fluttershy agreed though gritted teeth.
“What in tarnation?!” Applejack yelled as she and Rainbow Dash rounded a corner in Ponyville. The usual location of the town hall was now occupied by a massive pile of rubble. Several other nearby buildings were ablaze or in a similar state of ruin.STUPID BOOKS! ” Another voice agreed.
“GOOD ONE BUTTERSTICK, NOW YOU FUCKING POUND THE SHIT OF IT AGAIN ONLY WITH SOMETHING BIGGER.” Pounder yelled at his companion.DAMN STRAIGHT I FUCKING WILL, AND IT’S FLUTTERSHY YOU FUCKING RETARD.” FUCK OFF .” Fluttershy roared loudly as she demolished another bookcase with her bare hooves.BEING FUCKING ANGRY YOU PURPLE PRICK .”NICE ONE DICKWEED, I COULD HAVE HIT HER FURTHER THOUGH .”
Twilight crashed into the ground with a dull thud. Picking herself up she was surprised to find herself nose-to-armour plate with a massive metal gun beast.
“WHAT THE FUCK? FIFTY SHADES OF HAY? WHAT SORT OF GAY SHITTY BOOKS DOES THIS PRICK KEEP?” Pounder roared, as he ripped a book shelve out of the wall.
Volruth the Mighty shook his head clear of the warp fog that clouded his mind and stared at the spot where the Angry Marine had just stood. He grinned evilly; banishing the marine to the warp had been difficult, but the mental strain was well worth the look on the helpless Marine’s face just before he had been sucked to hell.
Chapter five: Return to Faggotville.
Pounder smashed his fist into the command console, denting the thick plate of metal.‘Ass Pounder’ had been in orbit for ten minutes, too long for the angry captain.
Pounder grunted and dropped the unicorn a full two meters to the ground as he noticed the second pony.
It was a lovely day in Ponyville. Rainbow Dash had woken up early for once and cleared the sky, allowing the warm sunshine to cover the village. Deep drifts of snow filled the fields and the warm breath of ponies frosted in the morning air. Nothing had gone wrong, Cerberus was busy playing with his ball in Tartarus, the dam hadn’t sprung a leak and Pinkie had even refrained from bending physics.
Pinkie Pie bounced through the streets of Ponyville with glee. Although there was nothing in particular that made the day good, she had a feeling that today was a good day to be Pinkie. That thought in mind, she bounced up and down, oblivious to the fact that everypony else had vanished from sight.‘Hey I could ask these two, what a great idea Killbles! I should listen to you more ofte-‘
Shut the hell up Pinkie
Pinkie shook her head. What was she just about to do? That’s right, ask the brawling marines about Pounder.
Princess Celestia strained to keep her composure as the yellow giant Twilight called ‘Pounder’ smashed through the wall with contemptuous ease.
Tales of Angrish
Chapter six: COME GET US FAGGOTS
Veteran Crusher smashed another one of the small eggs between his fingers, a strange feeling of brutal joy coming from the motion.
***
Lord Krull, Dark lord of beauty and fashion, fidgeted uncomfortably in his command pulpit. The rough edges were scuffing the polish on his armour and he could feel it.‘COME GET US FAGGOTS.’
Tales of Angrish
Chapter Seven: HURRY UP YOU SLOW FUCKS.
Pounder watched as the pink and purple shuttle descended slowly through the atmosphere. The thought of how many warriors it could hold briefly passed through some unimportant part of his brain. Next to him, his three remaining honour guard lay crouched in the mud, their hands flexing around their weapons eagerly.
Taking that as his cue, Pounder leapt forward, power chair held loosely in one hand. A few figures armed with industrial strength hairdryers descended from the ramp, blowing the dust cloud away from the shuttle’s hatch. After it was ‘safe’ to descend, a large figure decked in beautifully horrid armour emerged from the bowels of the lander, a beautiful unarmoured woman following in his wake.
With a mighty roar, Pounder summoned the rest of his warriors and dove into the warband without a second’s hesitation. This is what he was born for. Smashing faces and pounding arses with his power chair.
“What are you?”
***
Pounder watched in contempt as the lander spiralled away back into orbit. After Krull had ripped the sword from his chest he had retrieved his dazed mother and retreated to the shuttle, vowing revenge. While Pounder had been too busy fighting Krull to pay attention to his own warriors, they had a made a fine example of themselves; killing the dozen Chaos Pretty marines Krull had brought with him while only losing one of their own number. At the thought of his retinue, Veteran Crusher stormed up to him, globules of cultist blood flying off him as he marched up to his captain.
Tales of Angrish
Chapter 8: TRUE RAAAAAAAAGEE
It has been discovered that Captain Pounder’s log of his second foray into the lands of Equestria may present confusion to some members of the Inquisition. Due to this, external commentary by Adept Pejanus and Brother-Sergeant Shitkicker may be overlaid where necessary.
His titanic du-.
[Hearty laughter fills recording for twelve point two seconds.]
TITANIC? I’VE SEEN FUCKING WEEABOOS PUT UP BETTER FIGHTS THAN THAT CUNT KRULL.
… Ahem… His Titanic duel with Krull finished, Pounder stomped towards the small village of Ponyville, his mind troubled…
***
Pounder stomped angrily through the fields back towards the small town he was unwillingly calling home, a few drops of rancid chaotic blood dripping from his armour onto the ground. While his victory over the PRETTY PUSSIES had cheered him up slightly, being stuck in the happy, colourful land was a constant strain on his composure. He crushed a small flower beneath his boot but the tiny sense of satisfaction the destruction brought was soon outweighed by the oppressive nature of the land around him. A seething wave of red crossed his mind as the GAY PRIDE MASCOT swooped around his head and landed on his ridiculously oversized pauldron.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT SHITHEAD?” He roared, plucking the plucky Pegasus off his shoulder and holding her in front of his face by her tail.
Her look of awe was quickly replaced with one of alarm.
“Can’t I congratulate you, that was pretty awesome! I mean you totally kicked those guys’ flanks!” She jabbed the air with her forelegs.
“FUCKING-A” Pounder agreed, kindly letting go of the Pegasus instead of using her as an impromptu hammer throw. “DON’T FUCKING LAND ON MY SHOULDER AGAIN OR I’LL RIP YOUR ARSE OUT THROUGH YOUR MOUTH.”
“Sheesh, chill out man.” ‘GAY PRIDE’ said quickly before flapping off into the distance. Pounder rubbed his helmet and stomped a trail of ants into paste. Why he was helping these ponies was beyond him. The vox bead in his helmet crackled to life and the clipped tones of the Angry Marine nominally in charge of his Battlebarge filled his ears.
“CAPTAIN, WE’RE IN ORBIT NOW. A BUNCH OF CUNTS STOLE A COUPLE OF THUNDERHAWKS AND ARE HEADING DOWN NOW. WHERE DO THE FUCKERS NEED TO GO?”
“TELL THEM IT’S NEAR THE FUCKING BIG ROCK OVER THERE AND BETWEEN THOSE TREES.” Pounder yelled, pointing to the clump of trees in question. “WHAT ABOUT THE PRETTY FAGGOTS?”
“THE DICKWADS ARE BEING PUSSIES, THEIR SHIPS HAVE POWERED DOWN AND THIS PIECE OF SHIT UP HERE CAN’T FIND THEM.”
“YOU FIND THEM YOU STUPID FUCK, I DON’T CARE IF YOU HAVE TO THROW FUCKING ROCKS OUT OF THE AIRLOCK BUT YOU FUCKING DO IT, WE CLEAR DICKMUNCHER?” Pounder roared, the end of his tirade being cut off by the roar of a Thunderhawk’s engine ploughing into the ground. An onlooker would be surprised to see a dozen Angry Marines hanging onto the piece of severed machinery but Pounder paid no heed to the standard Angry Marine tactic designed to make ‘Steel Rain’ look like a maneuver for blue space faggots . A few seconds later the rest of the craft in question roared overhead and slammed into the ground, sending a plume of dirt flying up into the air. Pounder watched as a large walker, a Belligerent Engine, emerged from the wreck, undaunted by the supersonic impact. He was so busy watching the spectacle he didn’t notice a royal pony approach him. The regal creature looked with alarm as the large walker tore a path through the twisted remains of its transport.
“Captain Pounder.” Princess Celestia said finally as another Thunderhawk stripped of its engines screamed overhead and crashed into the ground with another deafening screech.
“WHAT IS IT HORNFUCKER? NEED YOUR HORN LUBED UP OR SOMETHING?”
Celestia decided to ignore the creature’s crude comment. “I’ve assembled what military forces I can to aid you. Would you like to inspect them?”
Pounder tossed an approving look over the score of marines now milling around. A pair of techmarines were stomping around behind them, smashing the remains of the Thunderhawks back into working order with heavy blows from their Thunder Hammers and constant streams of abuse.
“WHY THE FUCK NOT? I MIGHT GET SOME MORE SQUAT TOSSING PRACTICE IN.”
Celestia gave the marine a curious look but gestured towards a small group of ponies assembled at the edge of the field. Taking the hint that these were the troops she had assembled, Pounder stomped his way towards the nervous looking ponies, the princess following close behind. Celestia paused in front of the first rank of ponies and looked at Pounder.
“This is our royal guard detachment; you’ll never find a better unit of trained ponies in all of Equestria.”
“HA, GAY!” Pounder snorted, marching along the first rank and plucking a few random ponies into the air by their tails. He scrutinised their thick armour and razor-sharp spears. “THESE PUSSIES WOULDN’T LAST A SECOND AGAINST A GROT.” He concluded, hoisting a pony up to eye level and examined him closely.
“I’M THINKING OF INVENTING A NEW GAME. PIN THE PONY ON THE CARNIFEX SOUNDS PRETTY GOOD.”
“What’s a carnifex?” One of the guards asked.
“HOW ABOUT YOU GO ASK YOUR MOTHER, SHE’D HAVE A PRETTY GOOD IDEA.” Pounder roared, dropping the guardspony like a sack of rocks.
“WHERE’S THE NEXT LOT OF MEATBAGS?!”
Celestia gestured towards a small unit of pegasi. “These are the Wonderbolts, they are Equestria’s elite flying squadron.”
“HOW THE FUCK DO THEY FLY WITH THIS PISSY THINGS?” He grabbed one of the Wonderbolt’s wings and hoisted him into the air. The Imperium of Man’s aircraft were notoriously un-aerodynamic but how these little shits managed it was beyond him. The stallion’s look of alarm grw as Pounder started waving him around by his wing erratically.
“WHAT’S YOU NAME FAGGOT? I BET IT’S SOME SHIT LIKE ‘BLUE RAINY CUNT.’”
“Soarin, sir!” The Pegasus barked angrily as Pounder waved him around by his wing.
“FUCK, THAT’S HALF DECENT. SO, ON A RATING OF ONE TO SO FUCKING ANGRY YOU’D RIP THE BALLS OF A TERMAGUANT, HOW ANGRY ARE YOU?”
“Uh… Pretty angry?”
“NOT FUCKING GOOD ENOUGH, LET THE RAGE FLOW THROUGH YOU.” Pounder instructed.
The Pegasus’ scowl deepened as he focused his inner rage. Pounder watched expectantly for a moment before snorting derisively.
“LET A REAL MASTER SHOW YOU HOW IT’S DONE!” He bellowed, dropping the Pegasus like a discarded punching bag. Pounder concentrated for a moment, reaching deep inside himself for his stores of rage. Small puffs of smoke started rising from the joints in his armour as the captain’s inner rage started boiling. “FUUUUUUUUCCCCK YOU!” Pounder roared, a crackling fire springing up to replace the smoke. The flames lasted a few seconds before dying down. “THAT’S HOW IT’S DONE FAGGOT< UNTIL YOU GET SMOKE POURING OUT YOUR ARSE YOU’RE NOT FUCKING ANGRY ENOUGH.” Pounder roared point blac into Soarin’s face. “NOW, WHO’S IN CHARGE OF THIS SHITHOUSE?”
“She is, sir.” Soarin pointed at a yellow Pegasus who seemed to shrink slightly. The remainder of the flying unit took a big step away from their captain as Pounder lunged towards her.
“YEAH I BET SHE FUCKING IS, YELLOW IS FUCKING AWESOME.” He picked the captain up by her tail and held her up next to Soarin and examined them for a moment.
***
As Pounder looked the two ponies over, a strange urge to see them paired overcame him. He felt like a fan of a TV show where his two favourite characters had shared a meaningful look and-.
FUCKING HELL, GET ON WITH IT YOU INCOMPETENT PRICK.
Pounder wanted to see them locked in bouts of passiona-.
THAT’S IT!
[Sounds of smashing, repeated clubbing and screams of pain follow for several minutes. Upon investigation of the sounds, it is found a new adept is required.]
IF I SEE ONE MORE FUCKING LINE ABOUT POUNDER BEING A FAGGOT, YOU’RE NEXT.
***
Pounder shook his head, eyes helmet lenses burning with anger. “OH FUCK, SINCE WHEN DID I BECOME A PRETTY MARINE ?” He yelled, recoiling in horror. The two Wonderbolts dropped to the ground like drop pods, ending up in an uncomfortable and awkward pile. Frustrated, Pounder turned on his heel and stomped away from the nervous looking ponies.
***
You can clearly see Captain Pounder’s distress building as he stays in this heretical land, only the true light of the Emp-
I THINK WE CAN SEE THAT YOU NEED TO SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH. ON WITH IT YOU STUPID FUCK.
***
Refuge though, was harder to find than Pounder imagined. He had barely crossed half of the park the ponies were using as an assembly area, when a cyan blur leapt onto his arm and attached itself resolutely.
“HANDS!” It squealed excitedly
***
Krull snarled loudly in annoyance he marched back onto his bridge. With the ship powered down, only the bare essentials were running. He brushed off his physician and stood in the centre of the bridge, his recent sword wound causing no more trouble than a paper cut.
“Status?” He said, still maintaining a trace of elegance in his voice for his crew to aspire to. “Have the brutes found us?”
“No my lord.” One of the many serfs answered. “They’re searching for us though.” An image of a massive battlebarge slowly prowling the system with patience uncommon to Angry Marines filled the screen. As they watched an airlock opened and a hail of small objects flew out into space.
“Rocks…” One the crew said, answering the question everyone had been about to ask.
Krull laughed. “It’ll take weeks for them to find us. By then the ship will be fully functional.” He sat down on his command throne carefully, aware of the small collection of dust that had gathered in his absence. His ship, ‘Flower of Death’ was an ancient battleship. While crippled, it was vulnerable but with repairs well under way the mighty warship would soon be able to plough through space, gun batteries and lances blasting away at the unsuspecting loyalist ship.
“What about their ground forces, my lord?” One of his remaining champions asked.
“We will prepare a larger force to defeat them; our shuttles are small enough to escape the notice of their pathetic ship if they are cautious. These fools have shown us strength but we have yet to show them ours… when mummy has recovered from her… ordeal… could you send her up her? She is knowledgeable in the ways of the warp and perhaps we can use that to our advantage…” Krull’s face broke into a wicked grin as the thought of millions of daemons spilling across the virgin world beneath them came to mind. “Yes… I think that would do quite nicely.”
Tales of Angrish
Chapter 10: I'M BUSY HORNFUCKER
Pounder was bored. He and the score of marines that had fallen out the sky milled around, picking their noses, watching porn slates and complaining about the lack of a pizza delivery service. The stern warning from PRINCESS HORNFUCKER had deterred Pounder from killing any other ponies but as his patience quickly ran out, he started to wonder why he hadn’t just ripped off her head and used it as an impromptu latrine. A traveling courier had approached the waiting marines earlier, offering them some ‘exotic reading material’ but upon seeing the front covers of the magazines he was offering Pounder punted the unfortunate pony into the forest which separated the marines from the town with a choice of favoured words such as ‘CUNTMUNCHER’ and ‘GO SEE SOME FUCKING SPACE FURRIES.’
“YEAH, THAT’S IT! COME GET US YOU PRETTY MARINE FAGGOTS! STOP SUCKING EACH OTHERS COCKS AND FIGHT US!” Pounder bellowed, raising both his middle fingers at the lead drop ship. The gesture was taken up by the other marines until an almost visible wave of hatred emanated from them. The Belligerent Engine at the back of the group howled with fury, the half dead Angry Marine interned inside it raising its middle finger on its pair of power fistsl, each one nearly as long as one of Pounder’s arms. With a sickening crack the lead dropship simply exploded, the reinforced alloys and metals that made up its hull deciding they were too much of a ‘PUSSY FAGGOT’ to withstand the raw waves of anger surging around it.
The vox in Pounder’s helmet clicked on, the annoyed sounds of Dipshit coming through. “I’VE TRACKED THE FUCKERS TO THEIR PROBABLE LANDING ZONES, IT’S ON YOUR TAC MAP IF YOU FEEL SMART ENOUGH TO LOOK AT IT.”
Pounder growled but opened his tactical map, the ancient and rarely used piece of software popping up inside his helmet’s display. “I DON’T GET IT.” He said after a second, the unfamiliar runes that marked units and landmarks confusing and enraging him.
“THAT’S YOU, SHITHEAD.” The techmarine rumbled, highlighting a green rune in the centre. “THE FAGGOT’S DROP SHIPS ARE THE RED FUCKERS. AS YOU CAN SEE, ONLY A FEW OF THE COCKS ARE LANDING NEAR YOU.”
“WHAT’S THE POINT, MACHINE WHORE?”
“THERE‘LL BE GAYLORDS ALL OVER THIS PLANET SOON AND YOU’RE HANGING OUT LIKE A SQUIGGOTH’S DICK OVER THERE.”
The idea of the Chaos Pretty Marines swarming across Equestria lightened Pounder’s mood considerably. Either the little ponies who’d brought him back were about to make the best friends they’d ever met or grow some fucking balls.
‘Or get slaughtered...’ Pounder thought cheerfully.
“STILL WORKING ON IT FUCKHEAD. MAYBE YOU’D LIKE TO TRY GIVING IT A RIMJOB YOU IMPATIENT CUNT.” Dipshit yelled back before cutting the link. Pounder nodded his head appreciatively. Not being part of the chain of command, the Techmarine was technically well within his rights to slag off at Pounder without the captain bitch-slapping him back. In practice however... Pounder reminded himself to pile-drive the techmarine the next time he saw him.
“POUNDER, THE COCKMUNCHERS ARE TOUCHING DOWN!” One of the marines yelled as the gigantic landers touched down gracefully on the grass fields. The massive ships sunk into the dirt, throwing up a massive cloud of dirt, dust and grit. Large fans deployed, clearing the grime away and the massive ramps dropped, revealing an impossibly beautiful and sensual interior. Rank upon rank of cultists hurtled down the ramp, obscene standards held high and streams of twisted flower petals pouring from their clothes. While such sights of ecstasy and beauty would have most men screaming and clawing their eyes out, it just made Pounder even trucking angrier.
“ARE YOU WAITING FOR THEM TO DROP THEIR PANTS AND WAVE THEIR DICKS AROUND? GO GET THEM!” He roared, leading by example and charging at the mass of chaos warriors. “ALWAYS ANGRY!” He bellowed.
“ALL THE TIME!”
Needless to say, chaos was fucked.
***
Krull took a deep breath of air, savouring the clean, non-metallic tang that seemed to permeate his flagship. He and what was left of his elite cadre of troops had landed near a sprawling metropolis. With a large force of chaff and rabble keeping the Angry Marines busy, Krull was free to do as he pleased without their interference.
"My lord, strike force Grace and Elegance have landed and have begun the proper rites.
"Good." Krull hissed, watching a pair of pink and purple rhinos rumble past.
"What of the natives?" His underling asked, the tentacle that was his right arm twitching excitedly.
"Their souls are worthless." Krull spat, examining a few of the curious pony-like creatures that seemed to inhabit this world. "But they are so adorable! " He said in an almost fangirl like squeal. "I think we should keep some for the gardens."
The marine rubbed his forehead with his hand "My lord, your accession may require more sacrifice-."
"Nonsense, we will offer this world to Slaanesh and I will be rewarded. The fate of its inhabitants can lie with our mistress."
"Yes lord." The marine muttered, clambering into another waiting rhino.
"Just keep the Angry Marines occupied for a little while longer and victory will be ours."
***
“FUCKING HELL, MORE CULTISTS? WHERE THE HELL ARE THE REAL PRETTY FAGGOTS?” Pounder roared angrily, stomping yet another cultist beneath his power feet. The man exploded like a ripe tomato and a dozen other cultists went down in hysterics as their once pristine grab was covered in stubborn blood stains. Their cries of “That’ll never come out in the wash!” were silenced as Pounder crushed them mercilessly. A strange tingling sensation appeared in the back of his mind, enraging him even further.
“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD WITCHCUNT!” He yelled, looking for the psyker trying to force themselves into his mind.
“Captain, we need your assistance.” Rang the voice of the PRETTY GAY PONY PRINCESS. “Invaders have been spotted across most of Equestria. A wave of beautification is spreading and my subjects are frightened.”
“OUT OF MY HEAD BITCH!”
“Captain, they’re up to something.”
“WELL I’M UP TO MY NECK IN FAGGOTS DRESSED IN PINK SO GO SHOVE A POST UP YOUR ARSE AND GET BACK TO ME WHEN I’M DONE.”
“My commanders are receiving reports of strange rituals. I think this is worth your attention.”
Pounder stopped mid kick. The only thing worse than a FUCKING CHAOS PRETTY MARINE FAGGOT was a daemon summoned by a Chaos Pretty Marine. Perhaps the pussy Krull meant to summon daemons to this world and attract the favour of his masters. Pounder's mind ticked over slowly, barely noticing the twenty odd cultists hacking feebly at his armour. A massive explosion shook the battlefield as the Belligerent Engine tore through a shuttle faster than Doomrider through a line of cocaine. The now blackened machine let loose a flurry of swears and barreled back into the horde of cultists. Nearly a third of their remaining number turned into sprays of gory and flowers as the ancient war machine got to work.
“THOSE COCKMUNCHERS BETTER NOT EVEN THINK ABOUT SUMMONING ANY OF THOSE FUCKING PINK SLAANESHI WHORES.” Pounder roared, knocking down the cultists attacking him with a powerful stomp. He crushed another cultists head between his fingers before finding he had run out of targets. The three shuttles had been cleared with only a single casualty,, none of the cultists onboard being able to withstand the Angry Marine’s eternal rage. Before there was time to celebrate their victory, a boxy yellow gunship fell out the sky, landing roughly on top of one the chaos shuttles in a cacophony of shrieking metal and grinding plates. Pounder made a disapproving sound as the Thunderhawk’s ramp dropped and the unicorn TWILIGHT FUCKLE trotted out with a shit eating on her face. Dipshit followed her, his arms folded across his chest in frustration.
“Hello again Captain, I got your thingy working again.” She said, her smugness being replaced by revulsion as she beheld the battlefield.
“THE ONLY THING THAT GETS MY THINGY WORKING IS IMPERIAL HOOKERS. THAT’s A THUNDERHAWK, BITCH.” Pounder growled.
The unicorn rolled her eyes derisively, either brave or stupid enough to show contempt to an Angry Marine.
Pounder rounded on Dipshit. “HOW THE FUCK DID THIS SHITFACE GET IT WORKING?”
Dipshit looked at he ground, clearly embarrassed. He mumbled something under his voice, an act he’d never done in his life before.
“YOU TURNING INTO PUSSY? LOUDER YOU UGLY SON OF A WHORE!”.
“She pressed the on button.” Dipshit said at what most people would consider a fairly loud volume.
“I CAN’T FUCKING HEAR YOU PUSSY. LOUDER COCKMUCHER, OR THESE FEET WILL BE GOING UP YOUR OVERSIZED VAGINA.”
“SHE PRESSED THE 'ON' BUTTON YOU FUCKER.” Dipshit roared.
“THAT’S BETTER.” Pounder said. He turned to the still smug looking unicorn. “ONE, DON’T TOUCH MY SHIT AGAIN. TWO, DON’T TOUCH DIPSHIT’S STUFF AGAIN, WHORE.” He stopped and thought for a moment. “OH YEAH. THREE, FUCK YOU.”
THAT SHITHEAD DID WHAT NOW?
Tales of Angrish
Chapter Eleven: THAT SHITHEAD DID WHAT NOW?
It was such a nice day for the world to end.
Honestly, if it wasn’t for the horde of gibbering cultists that galloped down the street, screaming praise to their foul gods, raping, pillaging and beautifying everything in sight, it would have been a fairly normal day.
Even then, Manehatten was used to these sorts of things, giant monster attacks, giant robots, heck, even alien invasions… they all seemed drawn to the city, intent on either crushing its inhabitants to a pulp or forcing them to their will.
At the head of the vast legion assaulting the city was the Beautiful yet Terrible Lord Krull, the mighty chaos lord was sulking behind the front lines, surrounded by his best sorcerers and finest warriors.
He nodded to his head sorcerer, it was time.
As one they cried praise to their dark gods and reality seemed to buckle and twist. Hundreds of cultists writhed in ecstasy as the ritual began, hundreds of damned souls sucked away in an instant, offered up in sacrifice to their lord and master, their true spiritual liege ~~Roboute Guilliman~~, ~~Rowboat Chilliman~~ Slaanesh.
Krull roared with feral delight as the barriers between the materium and immaterium shook and hundreds of deamons tumbled into realspace.
“See, see!” He bellowed, still maintaining an elegant edge to his voice. He knelt down on one massive knee “Oh mighty ~~Robot Girlyman~~ Slaanesh, I offer this world up in your name. The souls of the soon to be vanquished are yours, yours to devour.” He paused, feeling a great surge of power course through him. “All I ask in return is your favour… the ultimate reward… ascension.”
The crack in reality howled with bestial laughter and bolts of red lightning split the sky. The breach widened, spilling more gibbering daemons out to plague Equestria.
“Yes… yes!” Krull squealed as his flesh started to boil and grow, unholy vigour coursing through his veins. His champions took a large step back, both to protect themselves in case their lord turned into a gibbering spawn and more pragmatically, so that their elegant armour would remain untarnished from the swirling warp energy.
A unnatural glow surrounded Krull as he grew to a titanic size.
“YES!”
***
“FUCK!” Pounder roared with feeling as the lone Thunderhawk circled the battlefield. Hastily put back into commission, the mighty craft had roared towards the largest congregation of PRETTY MARINE FAGGOTS that Dipshit could find. A few ponies rode in the cargo bay with them, mouths agape in horror as their world was slowly consumed by the ravening powers of the warp.
They were too late though, whatever foul magic Krull’s entourage had cast was taking hold and even as Pounder watched a fresh wave of daemons spilled through the slowly growing portal.
Pounder leapt into the cockpit and pointed through the shattered windshield at a collection of forty-odd pretty marines. A large misshapen shape was forming in the centre of the group, giving Pounder the suspicion that they’d find the PUSSY-FACED FAGGOT Krull there.
“DROP US RIGHT THERE, PREPARE FOR SATURATION BOMBING PATTERN ‘FUCK YOU, WHORES’.”
Dipshit spun around in the pilot’s seat, not bothering to pay attention to trivial things such as flying the massive metal box. “WE HAVE BOMBS? SINCE WHEN?”
“SINCE I STRAPPED A COUPLE OF COCK KNOCKER SQUADS TO WINGS YOU FUCKHEAD NOW GET BACK TO FLYING YOU INBRED SON OF A MACHINE WHORE.”
“FUCK OFF.” Dipshit yelled, pointing the Thunderhawk’s nose down into a nearly vertical dive. The airframe groaned, the metal unable to handle the sudden forces applied to it.
“FUCK, WHAT’S THIS MADE OF, USED KLEENEX?” Pounder boomed, leaping back down into the troop bay when twenty odd marines and the smoking Belligerent Engine stood. Despite the craft’s near-suicidal tilt, the marines were still firmly clamped to the floor, their magnetic boots and sheer anger making gravity too terrified to disagree with their preposterous positions.
Pounder strode to the front of the front of the ramp where the six ponies that accompanied them stood, terrified out of their minds.
“LOOK YOU LITTLE FUCKS, THERE’S A HUGE-ASS WARP PORTAL OUT THERE SPEWING ALL SORTS OF FURRY SHIT ALL OVER THE PLACE AND WE NEED TO SHUT THAT FUCKER UP LIKE IT WAS A RABID GW FANBOY.” He roared, silently wondering how the ponies were still staying on the Thunderhawk’s deck. “PROBLEM IS WE HAVE TO FIGHT ALL THE FUCKERS AROUND IT, LEAVING LITTLE TIME FOR HOLE FUCKERY.”
“What can we do?” Twilight asked.
“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, I DON’T KNOW. USE YOUR BRAINS YOU JUMPED-UP DRAGON FUCKER. USE YOUR GAY FRIENDSHIP MAGIC SHIT.”
“The elements of harmony! Of course!” Twilight cried.
“DEUS EX MACHINA THAT SHIT UP!” Pounder agreed, bashing a gauntlet against his chest plate.
“FUCKHEADS, THIRTHY SECONDS TO DIRT!” Dipshit announced over the craft’s intercom.
“He knows to land this thing, right?” Rainbow Dash asked dubiously.
“LANDING JUST MEANS ‘STOP FLYING’, YEAH?” Pounder asked, having never experienced what most sane people would call a ‘Soft landing’ in his entire career he was slightly unfamiliar with the term ‘Landing’
“Oh fuck.” Twilight said dryly.
Pounder ignored this and instead voxed Dipshit. “FUCK THE WHORES! NOW! DEPLOY MULTIPLE, SIMULTANEOUS AND WHORE-CRUSHING OFFENSIVE DEEP STRIKES!” He boomed, making Indrick Boreale sound like a heavenly choir of angels. A moment later the six bomb clusters on the Thunderhawk’s wings detached, revealing not bombs, but eighteen yellow clad and very pissed off Cock Knockers. Angry Marines were already frightening good in close combat but when one strapped a jetpack to their back and did the sensible thing like not even bothered to give them a bolter and instead, say, a wrench the size of a small car, scary things happened.
Cock Knockers happened.
The ‘bombs’ fell away, the usual whistling sound they made on their descent replaced by a titanic roar of pure fury.
“YEAH, GET THOSE CUNT MUNCHERS!” Pounder cheered as the eighteen yellow streaks fell into the demonic horde, chainswords and sacks of doorknobs whirling in bloody arcs. They didn’t even bother activating their jump packs, the impact of each marine carving great bloody trenches into the Chaos lines.
Pounder nodded in approval, next time he’d try it with a squad of Terminators.
“TWENTY SECONDS!” Dipshit roared, leaping out of the cockpit and climbing onto the back of the Belligerent Engine. He swung his massive thunder hammer in a huge arc, eager to smash some CHAOTIC FUCKTARDS in the balls.
Pounder spun around to his warriors and pointed at the buckled ramp. “WHEN THAT FUCKER DROPS, YOU KILL THEM! KILL THEM FOR THE EMPEROR! KILL THOSE FAGGOTS, RIP THEIR FUCKING MANGINAS OUT THEIR THROATS AND THEN KILL THEM AGAIN, JUST FOR GOOD MEASURE! DON’T STOP UNTIL EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THOSE SLAANESHI MANWHORES ARE DEAD!”
The Angry Marines roared in approval, brandishing their clubs and power wrenches eagerly.
Pounder turned back to the six cowering ponies. “DO WHATEVER IT IS THE FUCK YOU NEED TO DO, JUST STAY THE FUCK OUT OF OUR WAY!”
The six ponies nodded silently, the needed no further encouragement.
“TEN SECONDS!”
Pounder turned back to the ramp, waiting with uncommon patience for it to drop. He slowly counted off the seconds in his head, lost count and then started again, this time beating the shit out of any numbers he didn’t like (I.E. all of them.). A flexed his empty hands, feeling a little exposed without his power chair. Still, he more than made up for it with the ridiculously oversized Powerfeet he was wearing.
Suddenly the Thunderhawk slammed into the ground with tremendous force, sending the hatches flying off in all directions and turning hundreds of heretics and daemons who had been unlucky enough to be in its way into nothing more than red jam. With a savage roar, Pounder sprinted down what was left of the ramp, his battle brothers close at his heels.
“ALWAYS ANGRY!”
“ALL THE TIME!”
Author's Note
Don't judge me.
The end is nigh.
Tales of Angrish
Chapter Twelve: FUCK YEAH
With a roar that sounded like the word ending, the Angry Marines charged down the ramp. Pounder was at the front of course, his juggernaut-like form ploughing through the packed ranks of cultists and daemons effortlessly. He made a beeline for the towering figure of Krull, the once beautiful Chaos Lord transformed into a near perfect Daemon Prince.
“Despair, mortal!” Krull screamed, his elegant face contorting in rage as he beheld Pounder charging towards him.
“FUCK YOU, DAEMON PUSSY!” Pounder roared, trampling a pair of sorcerers into the mud to get to Krull. The Belligerent Engine followed in his wake, tearing through the two-score of Pretty Marines surrounding their lord like tinfoil, its pilot screaming in barely control fury as it pulled the unfortunate marines to shreds. With an infernal roar, it slapped the mighty daemon prince to the ground with a casual swipe and grabbed the delicate lady behind him. With a savage glee it inserted its massive fist up the witch’s ass, turning her into little more than a red mist as it activated the built-in power field.
“EVEN IN DEATH I STILL FIST YOUR MOM!” It bellowed before Krull carved its arm off with his mighty demonic blade.
“ENOUGH!” Krull screamed, kicking the dreadnought away and turning to Pounder. With disturbing ease, the Daemon Prince swatted the captain to the ground. “I HAVE WON! I ascended you blithering slime! Now kneel before me!”
“STICK THAT SWORD UP YOUR FUCKING PUTRID ASS YOU CUM GUZZLING COCKBAG.” Pounder answered, being rewarded with another slap across the chest for his trouble. He tumbled the dirt, his anger rising.
“Chaos is eternal! Chaos is power! Chaos is beauty!” Krull screeched, picking Pounder up by his chest plate and staring deep into the Angry Marine’s visor.
“CHAOS ALWAYS WINS!” Krull screamed, his mighty daemonic visage leering in triumph. He tightened his grip on Pounder and snarled. “Any last words, Angry Marine?” He jeered.
Pounder’s hand darted down to his bolt pistol and raised it defiantly. With an angry roar he snapped off the entire clip, the miniature rockets pattering off Krull’s armoured shell harmlessly. Krull laughed at the gesture, no mere bolt pistol would hurt him.
But it wasn’t the bolt pistol he had to be worried about.
Reaching up to the pistol’s clip and praying to the Emperor that he was listening. Pounder screamed two words.
“RELOADING, COCKBAG!”
He tossed the clip at Krull and rolled away as a three hundred and fifteen ton tank emerged from its hiding spot behind his bolt pistol’s clip. The Baneblade flew towards the surprised Daemon Prince at full speed, its engine howling as it flew through the air in the same way bricks don’t.
Krull had but a moment to look surprised before the tank crushed his daemonic form to a red and pink pulp, the last words from the Daemon Price’s mouth being little more than a cry of pure anguish.
“CRREEEEEEEEEEEEED!”
***
“Come on girls!” Twilight yelped, ducking under a clumsy swing of something which had too many arms and probably not nearly enough clothes. They’d followed the Angry Marines out of the Thunderhawk and delved right into the thick of it, avoiding the worst of the fighting where they could. She was absolutely terrified but she pressed on regardless, the fate of Equestria depended on it.
“STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO AND SHUT YOUR FUCKING WHORE-MOUTH, BITCH.” Fluttershy raged at Twilight, a little carried away with the violence and killing around her. She walked fearlessly through the valley of death but she feared no evil (or CUNTMUNCHING SLAANESH WHORE) for she was the biggest, baddest, motherfucker in the valley.
A half score of daemonettes gallivanted towards them but hesitated mid stride as the butter-coloured Pegasus fixed a glowing eye on them. They saw deep into her soul and quickly deduced that she was not someone to fuck with. Shrieking in badly-concealed terror, the she-daemons decided that throwing themselves at the Angry Marines would be safer alternative than to remain under her glare.
Under such protection, the six ponies closed on the portal, now dodging a pair of pus-ridden monstrosities that swung rusting, smoking blades at them. They were no more than fifty metres away when a hand, a hand larger than was possibly reasonable, emerged from the ever growing portal and slammed down onto the ground, the foul stench of death and decay than surrounded it immediately turning the grass there to withered, dead husks.
“Yes. Yes! Come forth my children, Father Nurgle cares for his subjects and gives us a new world to spread his love to!” A voice boomed, more terrible, ancient and powerful than anything they’d heard before.
Twilight could only watch in horror as a forty metre tall, impossibly bloated figure rose from the portal, a rusty black blade gripped in its hand. The beast roared in glee, spewing contagions and diseases never heard about or conceived across Equestria. Pus oozed from its every orifice and the smell it gave off made a tip seem positively fragrant.
As one, the Slaaneshi warhost cried out in terror and charged the foul abomination and the already chaotic battle turned into furious three-way that would leave a horny slaaneshi cultist writhing in envy. Dozens of Plaguebearers emerged from and behind their master to do battle and soon the number of daemons killing other daemons was greater than the number of daemons trying to kill Angry Marines.
The Mane Six watched on in stunned silence as the battle flowed and ebbed around them, the battle-eager daemons completely ignoring the six little ponies in their midst.
Twilight shook her head incredulously. “Holy fuck, I need be getting paid more to keep doing this kind of shit.”
***
Pounder spun around to face the remnants of the daemonhost. The once mighty Krull lay smoking at his feet… or more accurately, beneath the treads of the MOTHERFUCKING BANEBLADE Creed had managed to pull out of his ass.
“Emperor protect us…” The manly cigar-chomping motherfucker otherwise known to Pounder as Ursarkar E. Creed whispered, looking up at the towering Great Unclean One. Although his tank was mighty, it was no match for the daemon lord which struggled to haul his bloated mass out of the still growing warp portal.
“FUCK! NURGLE SHITLORDS?” Pounder roared, backhanding a madly gibbering Plaugebearer across the face. With a single movement, he shoved the daemon’s head into its rectum, breaking its spine and sending it writhing back into the warp to cry to its mother.
“COCK KNOCKERS, SMASH THE CHAOTIC SHIT OUT THE BIG FUCKER!” Pounder ordered, the boom of the Baneblade’s main gun drowned out by nearly a score of jump-pack equipped Angry Marine’s soaring overhead. They Marines hacked and smashed at the Daemon Lord with all their fury but the blows they inflicted had no effect on the hulking brute.
“IT’S NOT WORKING YOU ASSWIPE.” The Cock Knocker Sergeant reported bluntly, thoroughly pissed off that his power chair wasn’t working.
“FUCK IT, KILL THE LITTLE SHITERS THEN, I’VE GOT SOMETHING SPECIAL IN MIND FOR HIS FAT, FUCKING ASS.”
Without hesitation, the Cock Knockers peeled off from the Daemon Lord and started hacking an impressive path through his underlings.
Satisfied, Pounder voxed off one more message before looking around. “NOW WHERE THE HELL ARE THOSE LITTLE PONY FUCKHEADS?”
***
“What do we do Twilight?” Applejack asked worriedly as the beast continued to pull itself out of the pit.
“I SAY WE RIP HIS FUCKING ASSHOLE OUT AND FEED IT TO HIM.” Fluttershy suggested calmly.
“We need to close this portal.” Twilight affirmed, summoning the Elements of Harmony to her because the author forgot to take them off the Thunderhawk like the typical forgetful cunt he is.
“Too late!” Rainbow Dash cried, sweeping the others out of the way as a titanic foot came crashing down where had just stood.
“Free at last!” the Daemon cried with joy. “Come forth my children, come to spread the word of chaos!”
Unfazed, Twilight handed the Elements out and faced the portal. Reaching deep within her, she tapped into her reserves of energy that ~~turned her into the Avatar~~ fuelled the potent magical devices.
With a sudden surge of magic that seemed to destabilise the Daemons around them, a massive beam of Rainbow coloured light shot from the crown on her head and arched towards the portal the Daemon Lord had recently vacated. With a scream of rage, the portal collapsed in on itself, sealing the breach between the warp and Equestria with a violent thunderclap.
“You insolent fools!” the Daemon roared, trying to sweep at the ponies with its smoking blade. Its pudgy arms were so short though, that the wild swing sailed cleanly over their heads.
“FUCK, I’M GETTING REAL TIRED OF THIS SHIT!” Pounder yelled, suddenly appearing behind the ponies. He delivered a powerful kick to the daemon’s toe which did nothing other than tick it off.
“FUCKING RUN YOU STUPID DICKLICKERS!” He ordered, scooping up the six ponies in one gigantic hand.
“I THOUGHT YOU WERE FUCKING ANGRY, GET BACK TO THE FIGHT YOU PUSSY!” Fluttershy boomed, struggling against Pounder’s grip.
“WE’VE HIT IT WITH EVERYTHING WE COULD YOU RETARDED COCKSUCKER.” Pounder roared, sprinting away from the ponderous Daemon.
“So now what?” Twilight asked hopelessly.
“Ha! Flee you fools! Flee before I make you pay for killing my beloved children!” The Daemon roared triumphantly. “I have your cities, I have your world! It all belongs to Nurgle now!”
“WE HIT IT WITH WHAT WE CAN’T, HORN FAGGOT.” Pounder explained, pointing to a star in the sky.
Twilight frowned, it was the middle of the day; how was there a star in the sky?
The star drew closer and she soon realised… “That’s no star.” She breathed incredulously.
“BATTLE BARGE, ASS POUNDER ON STATION!” The vox in Pounder’s helmet roared and the falling star slowly formed into the shape of a long, ungainly metal box.
“You cannot hurt me, I am invincib- WHAT?” The Daemon Lord screamed, finally noticing the battle barge hurtling toward him, a gigantic middle finger extended from its prow.
“NO!” It roared as the millions of tons of Battle Barge ploughed into the daemon. Twilight couldn’t say for sure, but she swore she saw tiny yellow figures riding the ship down, guitars clasped in their hands and angry metal playing loudly from a thousand speakers.
“IMPOSSIBLE!” The Daemon screeched as a titanic nuclear fireball wiped it, Manehatten and most of the eastern Equestrian seaboard out in one fell swoop. How Pounder, his Angry Marines, Creed and the six ponies survived is a question best left not asked or answered.
“THAT SHUT THE DRIBBLING CUNT UP!” Pounder boomed cheerfully.
“Ha… ha… ha! Ha ha ha!” A deep, booming laughter came from the smoking crater. The booming laughter intensified and soon the Daemon crawled out of the smoke, injured but still alive. “Is that all you corpse-worshiping fools? Is that best you’ve got?”
“NOW WOULD BE A GOOD TIME FOR YOUR ELEMENTS OF DICKSUCKING.” Pounder roared, leading the ponies forward. He struck a suitably ass-kicking pose and pointed at the daemon, as if to smite it back to the warp.
“TASTE THE RAINBOW, MOTHERFUCKER!” Pounder roared, directing the six ponies to fire their GAY FRIENDSHIP BEAM straight into the Nurgle Lord’s gut.
“What, no!” The Daemon screamed as intolerable waves of FRIENDSHIP, HARMONY AND ALL THAT GAY SHIT washed over him. With a loud scream it was ripped apart, the nature of the beast unable to handle the effects of the magical artefacts.
After what seemed like several minutes of rainbows the daemon vanished, its warp-tainted flesh completely eradicated.
Pounder nodded in satisfaction and lowered his arm.
“FUCK YEAH.”
Author's Note
And that was the balls-tighteningly fantastic conclusion. I'm leaving this as Incomplete just in case I come up with any other good (i.e. bad) ideas/ need something to get angry about but this is more or less the end.of the Pounder's tales for now.
Happy swearing and thanks for the ride.
WHERE'S MY POWERFEET, DIPSHIT?!
WHERE'S MY POWERFEET, DIPSHIT?!
“JESUS CHRIST, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO MY HAND COCKSUCKER?” Pounder bellowed as the mare clamped itself around his appendage and giggled manically.
“I was right, I was right, I was right!” She chanted, completely ignoring Pounder’s quickly rising fury.
“NOT THIS SHIT AGAIN! GET THE FUCK OFF ME XENO OR I WILL RIP YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF, SHOVE UP YOUR ARSE AND THEN WEAR YOU AS A HAT.”
The aqua pony ignored him, stubbornly remaining locked around his wrist.
Roaring in anger Pounder lived up to his threat, ripping the ponies head clean off in a shower of gore before shoving the still gibbering head up its own anus. Finally, Ponder plopped the remains of the pony on top of his helmet where it defied several laws of physics to sit like a grisly trophy.
“That piece of headgear is not an Departmento Munitorum approved piece of equipment”
“SHUT YOUR MOUTH FAGGOT, HATS ARE FUCKING COOL.”
“I SWEAR THAT JOKE IS MORE OVERUSED THAN A PRETTY MARINES VAGINA. FUCK.” Pounder rumbled. He hadn’t wanted to kill the pony but she had pushed him to the edge. Wishing he had something more interesting to fight, Pounder stomped off again.
It wasn’t long before something good happened. Pounder had only just rejoined his marines when his helmet’s vox snapped on.
“CAPTAIN, CHAOS DROP-SHIPS INBOUND. LOOKS LIKE A FUCKLOAD SIR.” The excited tones of the Battlebarge’s captain said over the vox.
“DID YOU STOP SUCKING THE SERVITORS DICK LONG ENOUGH TO TRACE THE SOURCE?” Pounder asked.
“YOU FUCKING BEAT WE DID SHITHEAD. MOVING TO ENGAGE.” He replied before the link snapped off.
“ALRIGHT LISTEN YOU DICKHEADS, THE PRETTY MARINE DICKMUCNHERS ARE COMING DOWN FOR ROUND TWO, LET’S MAKE THEM WELCOME WITH A SOLID KICK TO THE FUCKING BALLS!”
The assembled score of marines cheered in approval and the ground shook as the Belligerent Engine that accompanied them smashed the earth around him in excitement; the ancient warrior’s battle-rage already building to titanic proportions.
A quiet noise of someone clearing their throat made Pounder turn around. PRNCESS HORNFUCKER stood behind him an alarmed look on her face. She gaze flickered to Pounder’s helmet where the grisly remains of the pony were still jiggling around. With a sad sigh her horn lit up and the remains of the pony stitched themselves back together in a way that made even Pounder’s skin crawl in disgust. After a moment to pony sprang back to life, gagging and choking.
“LIKE THE TASTE OF YOUR OWN SHIT, PONYFAG?” Pounder boomed, glaring at the pony in a manner which would send most mortal creatures running in terror
“Up yours!” She bellowed before marching away indignantly.
“Please refrain from killing my subjects, bringing them back is… a painful experience, to say the least.” She said sourly, undoubtedly put out by Pounder’s action.
“AND WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT HORNFUCKER? STAB ME TO DEATH WITH KINDNESS?”
Celestia quietly sung something that sounded vaguely like ‘Fly me to the moon’ under her breath. “I possess great power Captain; you would be wise not to cross me.”
Pounder snorted derisively and tuned back to his marines, quickly figuring the Princess was not worth his time. He noticed many of his marines twitched angrily at the use of witchcraft; a few chainswords revved loudly and his super-human hearing could hear many tire irons and bats being hefted in a threatening manner.
“ARE YOU ALL FUCKING STUPID? GET MOVING COCKBAGS!” Pounder bellowed, gesturing in the vague direction the Chaos dropships were expected to land. One of his veterans fell into step beside him and pointed angrily at the princess. “BADGER. CUNT. FUCK. DICKS!” He roared insightfully making his opinion of PRINCESS HORNFUCKER apparent.
“YEAH SHE’S A FUCKING BITCH BUT WE’VE GOT PRETTY FAGGOTS TO FUCK OVER. WHERE THE HELL IS THAT FUCKING TECHMARINE? THERE’S SOME FAGGOTS THAT NEED A KICK TO THE BALLS AND THIS CHAIR WON’T CUT IT.”
The veteran thrust his finger in the direction of the crashed Thunderhawk. “DIPSHIT IS OVER THERE. BUSY SUCKING THE MACHINE SPIRIT’S DICK LAST I SAW.”
“WELL I HOPE HE GIVES GOOD HEAD, I WANT THAT THUNDERHAWK HIGHER THAN FUCKING DOOMRIDER BY YESTERDAY.” Pounder grunted, stomping towards the wreck, oblivious of the fact that several large hedges stood in his path. The tall bushes stood little chance as the enraged Space Marine tore through them like a Lascannon through a grot. As he reached the crash site he was surprised to see a few incredibly brave (or stupid) ponies sitting around the crumpled war machine, mouths agape in awe.
“WORK YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT. THE OMNISSIAH COMMANDS YOU.” came from the wreck, each word punctuated by the deafening peal of a hammer striking metal.
“Your flying machine appears to be broken.” A quiet voice said next to Pounder. Concealing his surprise, the captain looked down to see the diminutive form of a purple pony next to him.
“TWILIGHT FUCKTARD.” He rumbled, resisting the urge to punt the pony into the side of the wrecked Thunderhawk to see how big a bloodstain he could make.
“Hello Captain.” She said uneasy. “Your mechanic seems very… enthusiastic.”
Pounder grunted loudly and folded his arms across his chest.
The odd silence was split by a raging cry followed by another hammer blow. “CUNTNUGGETS!”
Silence.
“LOOKS LIKE DIPSHIT HAS GIVEN UP. FOR NOW.”
“What the fuck was that for?” Twilight asked. “He’s doing his best, no need to insult him!”
Pounder raised an eyebrow at the ponies foul language before remembering he had accidently taught her how to swear during his original visit. “DIPSHIT IS HIS NAME YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH. NOW GO AND FIND SOME STALLIONS DICK TO SUCK BEFORE I DECIDE TO PLAY A GAME OF DARTS WITH YOU AS THE DART.”
“Oral sex is not what I had in mind for the evening…” Twilight said flatly.
“CHRIST.” Pounder said simply, slapping his armoured hand across his face. “JUST FUCK OFF, YOU’RE MORE ANNOYING THAN A PRETTY MARINE LINING UP FOR A JUSTIN BIEBER CONCERT.”
“Who?”
Pounder cupped his head in his hands and wondered what he’d done to deserve this.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING OUT HERE ANYWAY, DON’T YOU HAVE THE ‘MAGIC OF FRIENDSHIP’ OR SOME SHIT LIKE THAT TO HAVE SHOVED DOWN YOUR THROAT?”
Twilight shrugged “I noticed your mechanic was having trouble and I thought maybe I could help. I want to ask though, how does this thing fly anyway? It looks like you told aerodynamics to go fuck itself. Hard.”
“THE FUCK IS AERODYNAMICS? SOUNDS LIKE SOMETHING FOR HERETICS OR WEEABOOS.” Pounder asked before marching over to the Thunderhawk and smashing the hull with the palm of his hand a few times. After a moment a red armoured techmarine appeared from behind the turbolaser mount, a gigantic hammer held casually in one hand.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT FUCKFACE? I’M WORKING HARDER THAN A SLAANESHI WHORE UP HERE.”
“PURPLE FUCK OVER THERE WANTS TO HELP YOU, DIPSHIT.”
Dipshit looked at the small crowd of ponies and picked out the purple pony Pounder described. “WHAT THE FUCK COULD SHE DO? LUBE THE ENGINE? YOUR MOTHER COULD DO MORE THAN HER AND ALL SHE’S GOOD FOR IS GETTING FUCKED IN THE ARSE BY HAIRY MEN. FUCKING XENO PROBABLY KNOWS AS MUCH ABOUT THREE POINT POWER CONVERTORS AS YOUR DICK, WHICH IS TO SAY, NOTHING.”
“FUCK OFF.” Pounder yelled back, gently unholstering his powerchair and placing with almost loving care against the bent hull of the Thunderhawk. “YOU GOT ANY POWERFEET? FAGGOTS NEED THEIR BALLS KICKED IN.”
“”WHAT DO YOU THINK? COURSE I GOT SOME YOU FUCKING IDIOT. YOU TAKE JUST ONE THOUGH, IF I FIND YOU WITH POWERFEET STRAPPED TO YOUR ARMS AGAIN I’LL SHOVE THIS TURBOLASER DOWN YOUR THROAT AND OUT YOUR FUCKING ARSEHOLE.”
“FUCK YOU, MACHINE WHORE.”
Dipshit happily raised his middle finger, flipping Pounder the bird with unrestrained joy.
Pounder returned the gesture and ripped off the side door of the Thunderhawk in his haste to get to the destructive equipment kept inside. Ignoring the loud and ungraceful protests of the Techmarine on top of the hull, Pounder entered the darkened interior and looked around slowly. After a quick scan of the cargo bay his eyes locked on a metal crate labelled 'FOR KICKING THOSE FUCKS IN THE BALLS!'
Pounder grinned widely under his helmet. This was going to be fun.
