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The Squiggly Beast That Could: Episode 1 “Wot’s dis?” Squigkikka did a double take. The little beastie he had just pushed out the doorway behind him was sitting on the eatin’ table in his scrap hut. It was grinning at him, tongue lolling down to its knobby knees. He looked at it suspishus-like, narrowing beady red eyes at the blue-skinned ball of teeth and claws. This squig was like no other that Kikka had raised; it was unnervingly docile, but mischievous like a grot. He couldn’t count the number of times it had gotten into places it shouldn’t be able to – though to be fair, he couldn’t count very high in the first place. Numbas is fer pansies and mekboyz. The squiggly beast barked at him and Kikka barked back, spraying it with spittle. The little beastie shrank back and whimpered, pressing up against the corrugated metal of the wall. It clutched its tiny arms to its body and it took a solid minute for the ork to realize that was strange. Ow’d ‘e get arms? “Da zog…” In all his years of growing and raising squigs, the ork boy had never seen one with arms before. He stomped closer to get a better look at the beastie but it slipped through his arms and pattered across the floor towards the doorway. Kikka growled in irritation, crashing into the wall and putting a sizable dent in it before he could shift his momentum. “Oi!” he bellowed and charged after the squig. The ork boy stopped in the doorway and looked this way and that. All around his hut, herds of squig were grazing on mushrooms, small animals, rocks and each other. There were red ones and blue ones, green ones and yellow; too many for Squigkikka to pick out the miscreant who had made a fool of him. He tried to spy the little spindly arms in the crowd but it was hopeless. The nearest gaggle of squiggly beasts had stopped grazing and stared at him with a mixture of dread and hostility. Kikka puffed himself up big-like and asked them wot they wuz lookin’ at. He brandished ‘Urtyboy for good measure, waving the implement menacingly. Most of the squigs scurried off, scrambling over each other in fear of the spikey stick the ork used to keep them in line and punish the truculent ones that don’t like to listen. Beyond the broken posts marking the edge of his territory, a few other orks were loitering by a copse of trees, staring hard at Squigkikka. He felt a flush of aggression building in his brain and he was right close to bellowing a challenge before he recognized the glyphs painted on their camouflaged gear. “Sumfin interestin’?” one of the orks asked him, casual-like, and reached for the handle of the choppa at his waist. His partner straightened up and flexed ham-like fists. They were looking for a scrap but Kikka knew better than to challenge Kommandos. He knew he could take either ork one on one, but them sneaky gitz didn’t fight fair. “Nah,” Squigkikka spat and turned his back on the Kommandos. Abruptly, the ork boy tripped over something blue and ovoid. He lost his footing and fell face first into the spongy mass of a mushroom patch. One of the toadstools exploded in his face and he pawed at his eyes to clear them of iridescent goo. He could hear the Kommandos laughing at him and his fury rose to a fever pitch. He was a hairsbreadth away from charging at the gitz and taking them both on when his brain caught up with his eyes. Kikka realized that the blue squig who had tripped him was standing right in front of him. It was happily licking the fungus from his face, flailing excitedly with its spindly arms. “You zogger,” Squigkikka bellowed, frightening the beastie away. He scrambled to his feet and took off after it, heedless of the other squiggly beasts. The ork boy plowed through the milling creatures, bowling many over and crushing more than a few in his blind fury. He swung ‘Urtyboy over his head in tight arcs, fixing to bury it in the blue beastie’s hide. But the squig was too nimble for Kikka and the ork boy began to tire. Before long, he had lost sight of his quarry in the thick vegetation and his anger began to flag. He was about to give up the chase when he caught a whiff of squig spore and, following his exceptional sense of smell, came upon a small cave sunk into a hillside. The entrance to the cave was covered in thick brush and hanging moss but a small portion near the ground had been burrowed through. Kikka smiled maliciously and got down on his hands and knees to crawl in after the little beastie. He made it halfway through before becoming stuck. Squigkikka thrashed with his stumpy legs, trying to drive himself deeper but his shoulders were too wide to fit through. He heard a bark and a snuffle and, in the low light of phosphorescent lichen, could just make out the little blue squig he was after. The beastie grinned at him with a gob full of snaggle-teeth. “Go on den,” Squigkikka shouted, bearing his tusks in a fearsome scowl, “I’ll krump ya!” The squig whined and sidled closer. Kikka braced himself for a fight. When the beastie darted in close and opened its mouth wide, the ork boy bellowed WAAAGH and snapped with his own fearsome jaws. He missed. Kikka braced himself for death, determined to meet his end like a proppa ork should, but the little blue squig only licked at his face, wagging its stumpy tail. “You iz ded,” Squigkikka growled, somehow more humiliated than if it was eating his face. That was when he began to feel a dozen small mouths taking tentative bites out of his legs. The other squigs had followed him. “O zog.” Gitlikka da Squig smiled happily, still wagging his tail.