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That sneeky wee shite! My own son! Mini-Warhead!!! Well, I guess he's more like me than I give him credit for. In an audacious move he waited until I went to work and when he came home from school he took his turn unopposed. Said he rolled for it and I was fine about it. When I asked if he thought it fair he quoted the rule of Fudge and if I liked I could appeal but would have to fill out the paperwork and then handed me a toilet roll...
Worse, since we don't have Gandalf or any of hundreds of the Rohhirim on horses needed to come to the defenders rescue, he used his newly built Wasteland Marauders instead!!! I got back home to this!..
The Marauders roll out, their machines engines revving almost drowning their insane snarls and war crys. The head across the Living-room carpet towards the dinner table!
The Marauders lightning attack takes the Ork Horde by total surprise!
Never having seen such bizarre devices the Orks are stunned by awe and overridden by... well, wheels.
The battlefield rings with the hearty challenge of the Marauders "Fuck you Orks!"
The slaughter goes unchecked "Up yours Gnoll Assassins!"
With their player absent the Orks are ill prepaired for such an onslaught! "Ooo, candles!"
(Unfortunatly he didn't bother with red bushes for the explosions. But... BOOM!)
Ork Magic is no help either.
A decisive victory is assured.
Will the Trolls prove too tough?
Goblin Archers fall prey to vehicle shock.
Marauder buggies and death cars roar among the fallen and fleeing.
Crude missiles fire off in all directions! ( 0_o )
None escape unscathed! (...Grr!)
Time and again the Marauders charge across the battlefield.
Crushing all resistance beneath their gore splattered wheels! (Fuuuu!!!!)
with no more targets the Marauders lose interest in grinding Orks into paste and take off for destinations unknown.