KAPTAIN KILLKRUSHA'S KRUMPIN' KROOSADE OF KOOLNESS

[Knightlybrigand]

Da Jenre: Grim, dark, brootal, dead killy sci-fi
Inspirasshunz: Warhammer 40.000, Warhammer Fantasy Battles
Rekkvirementz: Ya gits are all zoggin' welkome if ya'll able to type three co'erent wordz in a row

[Knightlybrigand]

DA ROOLZ
Expetasshuns: Ya stoopid gitz are asked one simple fing - play the damn game an' be polite to each other, else i smash ya gob in! No hanky-panky's allowed either.
Oonivers: Da Big Scrap takes place in a grim, dark grimdarkness of far frakkin' future where all yer lazerguns and plasma-choppas and giant star-kroozers come true! Zog, anyfin' you kan fink of exists, and if it doesn't, a good Mekboy can build it for ya... for a right an' propa' price.
Rashial Restrictments: You iz an Ork. You were made fer foightin' and winnin'. You'z big, strong, tuff an' you get bigger and stronger as you fight and win - everyfing a proper, mean, green killin' machine needs! Ain't no sissy humie pansies or pointy-eared twig-thin elfen freaks, allowed, 'cause dey all are weak and only good fer a good smashing!
Respect: All da boys root fer each' uva, an' even if dey like a good scrap jus' like dey like their squig roast and fung...fingal... mushroom beer, dey only krump his pals when dey are zoggin' consent and ready fer some fistcuffs! 'umies and grots are not a matter though - you krump them whenever you feel like!

[Knightlybrigand]

DA BOYS:

Orks are all equal, but sum are mo' equal den uvers. Here's da breakdown:
BOSS:
Boss is da biggest, deadliest, killiest and meanest ork dere is. Erryone lisenz to wot 'e says or gets krumped nice an' 'ard! It doesn't mean a 'onest-ta-Mork boy can't 'ave ambishunz! Jus' krump the boss first and you'll become one!
NOBZ:
Nob is Boss' lieuft-tennant, y'know. A second-meanest gobstomper, wiv real nise gear an' trophy rack, an' a mean strike wide as war-mecha stride. Dey offen become bosses demselves, when runnin' away with sum boys, or die trying to do so.
MEKBOYS:
Sum' boys have a knack fer techy-things. Everyone can make 'imself a gun - it's like, programm'd in ya by gods, so a boy won't be left barehanded for a fight - but a Mekboy takes that a bit further! 'E can make trukks, real noise an' loud guns, big, Big, BIG CHOPPAS an' even something even more killier - wotever 'e can fink of, really. Dey also have the most o' money, 'cause errybody who wants a nice piece o' work or a kiber-arm's gonna come t'ya carrying a bag or two, see?
SPEEDFREEKS:
Uver breed o' boys fancies bikes, 'n buggies, 'n deff-koptas n' jets a lot and deir obsesshun is sometimes borderline fetiskh... fertilist... fes-tish-ist-ick, you see. Real mad dem zoggers, but 'eal good with their bikes too, and when they paint 'em red they actually do go fasta, ain't that rad?
STORMBOYZ:
Those are the weird bunch, dey like... discipline n' stuff, ya ever herd of it? They go like, trainin', and 'avin drills and march 'round the place an' wear flashy uniforms! It ain't orky, son, ain't damn orky at all! They do have a way wiv their swords when it comes to foightin' though, so 's all good.
WYRDBOYS:
Don'cha eva, neva eva come close to dese - dey are downright zoggin' mad! Sumfin is very, very wrong wiv those, an' thats why dey get all dese strange explodin' powers, jumpin' all ova the place, zappin boys 'n humies left an right... word is, dey have Mork's blessin' on 'em, and it's his majyk they are using...
BOYS:
Deze are uszhul, simple boys, ya dum' git!
GROTS:
The smallest, squeakiest, puniest 'n un-orkiest of dem all, grots work fer us, bigga' orks, cookin, stealin', cleanin an' shooting the small guns, 'cause you ain't being orky if your gun is not big enuff to deafen everyone nearby!

[Knightlybrigand]

DA PLOT:

I'm da hand of Gork and Mork, dey sent me to rouse up da boyz to crush and kill ‘cos da boyz forgot what dere ‘ere for. I woz one of da boyz till da godz smashed me in da ‘ead an’ I ‘membered dat Orks is meant to conquer and make slaves of everyfing they don’t kill.
I’m da profit of da Waaagh an’ whole worlds burn in my boot prints. On Armour-Geddem, I led da boyz through da fire deserts and smashed da humies’ metal cities to scrap. I fought Yarik, old one-eye at Tarturus, an’ he fought good but we smashed iz city too.
I’m death to anyfing dat walks or crawls, where I go nothin’ stands in my way. We crushed da stunties on Golgotha, an’ we caught old one-eye when da speed freeks blew da humies’ big tanks ta bits. I let ‘im go ‘cause good enemies iz ‘ard to find, an Orks need enemies ta fight like they need meat ta eat an’ grog ta drink.
I iz more cunnin’ than a elf an’ more killy than a battol-robot i jus' krumped, da boyz dat follow me can’t be beat. On Pissenah we jumped da marine-boyz an’ our trophy-poles was covered in da helmets we took from da dead ‘uns. We burned dere port an’ killed dere bosses an’ left nothin’ but ruins behind. I’m Kaptain Killkrusha Gazkull Mag Uruk Thraka an’ I speak wiv da word of da gods. We iz gonna stomp da ‘ooniverse flat an’ kill anyfing that fights back. We iz gonna do this coz’ we’re Orks an’ we was made ta fight an’ win!

-- Graffiti on Warlord Battle Titan wreckage, found by Dark Angels at Westerisle, Piscina IV

The Orks plague the galaxy from the end to end with their ceaseless warring and strife. They are a race rooted so deeply in war that peace is utterly incomprehensible to them. They cannot be bargained with or bought save with weapons that they will inevitable turn against those who tried to bribe them. I pray with all my faith that some great catastrophe will annihilate them but I fear that ultimately it is they, not we, who shall rule the galaxy.

-- Old One Eye Yarrik, Lord-Commander of Space Marines

The Kroosade is open again! After ten years o' recuperating, healin' an' countin' the loot, Kaptein Killkrusha is back, and 'e means business! All the bosses of all the bands, all the nobs, all da meks, all da boys unite and get ready to deliver a stompin' so hard, the world'll 'emember it for an eternity! Sign ya name and wot ya can do and get onboard of his Planetkilla and prepare for a wild zoggin' ride through the warp, arrivin' sometime, somewhere, somehow to krump that place dead! Meanwhile at the time o' flight, sumfin' is shoor to try an' board us - dem daemon boys from parallel ooniverse, elf corsairs, umie spess mehreens or even sumfin' complete new and interestin' to smash! Errybody on board boys, and scream wiv me:
WA-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-AGH!!!