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Imagine if you will that mountain of figures and vehicles you had scattered amongst the detritus of your room suddenly came to life...

Imagine if they believed they were in the 41st millennium....

Imagine the wackiness that would ensue....

(Once again, a fantastic little bit of short story goodness from 4chan)



Introduction....


So my techpriests got out of their box and to my computer again last night. I found them in the morning, A dozen techmarines and Enginseers and their servitors jumping up and down on the keyboard and using a Dreadnought to operate the mouse.

We had to speak at length about Wikipedia. They were convinced that nothing told to them by the Great Machine could be so fallacious. Oh, and they got into my porn file and demanded to know why there was so much information on human procreation when schematics could be kept in the same space.

Also, I've finally had it and will be taking my Dark Eldar to the sex shop. Again. The first time I was kinda drunk and they insisted (they had been begging for days and threatening to order more pay-per-view.) Its not like I've got some moral opposition, but, jeeze, ever see an inch-and-a-half tall Wych trying to operate a thirteen inch long vibrating dildo? It's... disturbing.

Oh, and they're ALL fighting over control of the TV. Literally. The Tau only want Discovery Channel, The Space Marine and Sisters want the religious networks, the Orks want Spike on, and the Eldar all want me to put on Lifetime. Except for Eldrad, who I haven't seen in days, but made a collect call and just said "Channel 4, Tuesday news at noon." I'm a little afraid to turn it on.

Doomrider found my stash. Which was just weed and two hits of acid. But given his current size and the fact that he smoked all of it and rolled around on the LSD he's driving up the wall. Literally.

Also, Privateer Press just made their big press release. It was simply "Well, feth." I think the wargames industry might take a bigger hit.

For some reason the tyranids have been watching Nickelodeon. I can't even begin to explain why. We've set up a sort of truce around the TV. Everyone gets one hour except when I want to watch something. Then the orks inform everyone else "DAT GORK WANTS TA WATCH 'IZ UMIE SHOWS." Which would be less weird if I didn't watch so much Election coverage. The Imperium is having a hard time understanding why we aren't purging the heresy of those trying to ursurp our planetary governorship.

One of my friends brought over his Rogue Trader today. Which would have been okay, seeing his ship was pretty cool (it was about as big as my car) but the rat bastard tried to sell me my own tree. I have a single tree in my front yard and I had to pay fifty bucks to buy it back from him. Damn.

I'm trying not to be too loud while I type this. The necrons are sleeping. I had to bathe the nurglings today. The stench was just too much. God, it was horrible. Most of them came apart in the sink. I, I don't want to think about that anymore.

Apparently an Eversor got into my book bag. In the middle of a US Foreign Policy lecture he made this very clear. I'm sure everyone's had a cell phone go off in class? Sucks right, even if the professor's cool you still feel like a douche. Ever have a tiny, clawed lunatic scream "WRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY" and run across the desk shredding everyone's notes?

But the Eldar have predicted next weeks lotto results. Which would be great but Eldrad insisted that I shouldn't get a ticket with numbers but instead ask for "L-O-L-D-O-N-G." And I'm pretty sure there are no letters in the lotto balls.

I need to be careful with my weedwhacker now. Before it was just rocks, dog turds, and the occasional bee's nest. Now it's Catachans, Tyrands, Kroot, Tyranids, and Orks that don't like it indoors. You don't know what a bug bite is until you've been peppered with Fleshborers.

The Orks caught a garter snake, then let it go when they found out it wasn't venomous. I thought they were going to eat it... Then the Kroot and Catachans caught it and ate it. Raw. It wouldn't have been disturbing if it was just the Kroot (or the 'nids), but the Catachans had their snake sashimi-style too. I'm going to pick up some vinegar so they can at least cure the meat first. I wish my cat hadn't killed all the shrews. One of those would go through EVERYTHING living in my yard in a couple of days, I'd bet.

Speaking of my cat Jones, he's been acting strangely...


Chapter 1

I rubbed my hand over my face and put my feet down on the floor, only to feel something go squish under them. That's not the way that a person wants to wake up. Glancing at the underside of my foot, I quickly decided that not only was it impossible to figure what I'd just killed, but I wasn't entirely sure that I wanted to know. Maybe later. Maybe once I'd gotten human again.

Of course, since these things all ended up at my house, it's been a little more difficult to do that than ever. I positively glowered at the shower. "Hey! You little feths! What the hell have I told you about screwing on the soap!" I don't know what they are, and I don't care. I don't want alien goo on my soap, no matter how little the creature is.

I marched back out and began the hunt. I don't know what they're called (my friend, Dave, he knows and has told me a hundred times, but it keeps slipping my mind) but those little guys in armor, with the swords and all the whack about some sort of god ruler thingie? I found a bunch of them on the kitchen table. Despite their protests and their curses, I snatched all four of them up and carried them back in with me.

"Permission granted to kill these two xenos." I didn't have to say it twice. We had an agreement -- they thought they'd gone through some sort of time/space wormhole, shrinking them and sending them back in time. They were putting up with me only until their god guy came into power or something,but until then, I was in charge. Whatever. Either way, they literally leaped out of my hand and went to town. I looked away. Nobody wants to watch that.

Just as much as somebody wants to watch an inch tall figure stroll past the doorway, dragging a much larger rat behind it. It was yelling something about a blood god. A different god, I'd learned. But it was streaking blood all across the carpet. Good pest control, those guys. Hell on the cleaning bill, though.

feth coffee. I don't even want to think about what those one things did to the kitchen while I was sleeping. Probably ate everything. AGAIN. Good on garbage disposal, but...

Computer. Play some Team Fortress or something. Blow some steam before I start dumping these guys in the garbage disposal again. Wiping off the last of the grunge off my feet, I tossed the tissue to one of those red praying-mantis-looking thingies to eat before reaching to turn on my computer. Only to find that the guys with the hard-on for tech had it open again.

"What are you doing?" I asked in a harsher voice than intended.

One stepped forward. "The holy electron flow-"

feth. I knew where this was going. I cut him off quickly. "Like you'd tell one of the other guys."

He seemed disappointed. Screw him. "We are... upgrading your ram?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and looked back up. I don't know how they got up there, but the white haired chicks were dragging me a cup of coffee. They're nice. Religious nutbags who I'm always being careful what I say around, but nice. I was completely distracted until one of the green guys poked my arm.

"Me an' da boyz wanna ride again, boz."

"Later," I grumbled softly. They loved riding in my car, but had spent the last two days painting it red. To make it go faster. Their version of logic made my head hurt, but them and those freaky armored dudes love riding with me, even more so when I turn the music all the way up.

It was at this point in time that I felt something in my sweatpants. I've gotten used to this enough that I virtually ripped them off. There was one of the blue things, with one normal arm and one that's kinda like a blade, and she was... you know... trying to go at my junk.

And that's when I started screaming, officer...

Chapter 2

It's been a couple of weeks since the cops came over me freaking out. Things have... calmed down a bit. Not with them, mind you. They're just as freaky as ever. Just... I've adjusted more.

We've kind of fallen into a routine. I get home from work, and the noseless guys instantly let me have the TV in the living room. They're pretty easy to keep happy. Anime, Zone of Enders and the sequel on the PS2, and just let them do their thing. They're fairly harmless when left to themselves, and they're really accommodating of me. When I get angry at everybody else, they try and calm me down. I'm starting to adopt them as my favorites.

The white haired chicks, they cook me dinner. Hand-cook me dinner. Seriously, they've got these flamer things, and... I don't know, to be honest. They seem so militant and pious at times, but at the same time they're kinda nice to me. They've almost gotten to the point where they can cook a steak that isn't well done, too.

After I watch an episode or two of the old Batman animated series (the good one), I'm always surprised to find the little human-like dudes sitting next to me and the noseless aliens. Not the humans with bulky armor and swords, but the trooper dudes. Their boss-guys mutter under their breath about heresy, but let them get away with it for the most part, so long as they don't start talking with the noseless ones.

Anyway, after dinner and the Batman episode, I put the green guys and some of the humans in the car, along with some of their equipment, and we head to the park for a bit. To the green guys (orcs, I guess) it's a trip, because we seem to be going so fast to them. The militant dudes, they're just looking forwards to practice. I have a "no fly zone" rule in the house, so this gets them off my back about maneuvers and training and gak. I just hold a complex plane remote I picked up and tell people that I'm playing with models.

When we get back, though, I always go hunting for the metal skeleton dudes. At first, they used to attack me, but lately we've come to a truce. Ever since I bought that electro-magnet, that is. The noseless guys handled the negotiations for me releasing them. Best $300 I've ever spent, let me tell you.

Before I made that investment, though, the orcs used to defend me. When they all showed up, there were the most of them and they all attacked me. I killed only about a few thousand of them while screaming bloody murder. As time's gone on, they've started calling me "boss" more and more. They, uh, got ahold of one of my videos of me at the shooting range and were in awe. Over what, I'm not sure, but they just went on about "big dacker" or something for ages. It can be hard to figure out what they're talking about.

Some of the pointy-eared ones are jerks, kinda thoughtless hedonists in a way, but others are kinda cool. The elders, I guess that's what they call themselves, they aren't that bad. When I do laundry, they get their big thing to help me fold clothes. I don't fully understand it, but... yeah. Kinda strange, more than a little creepy, but I'm not going to turn down free help.

I had to commit a little bit of genocide, and I kinda feel sorry about that at times, but... those little fethers were dripping and disgusting. Their armor... Well... somebody's doing something with it. I don't know. I'm kind of scared to ask.

Sometimes, though, I gotta admit, everything gets me down a little bit. I've really come to look forward to the big brick dudes. They're normally in these coffin thingies, but they've been letting them out now and then here lately. When one notices that I'm down, he comes to talk to me. I think everybody else is kind of afraid to. They can handle me being angry, happy, whatever, but when I'm sad, I guess I'm a little unpredictable to them. The metal brick dudes, though, they aren't scared, and they understand more than I give them credit for.

Apparently, the little uber-hedonists have been, uh, "attacking" me while I'm asleep. Dave, he tells me that there's some kind internet fetish about tiny creatures and keeps saying that we could make a mint. Yeah, I have rules against showing my wang on the internet, and secondly, just because some people have that fetish doesn't mean that I do. Besides, I kinda want a real woman one of these days.

Now that I look at my bedroom, with all these things around, I'm starting to realize that until this situation is fixed, I'm not going to be bringing a girl home.

Chapter 3

They all collected up in my bedroom easily enough. Even the necrothingies showed up, which I kind of wasn't expecting. Some of them were armed. Maybe they all thought that I was going to try and kill them or something. Sure, all that they'd caused were some little cuts and minor punctures so far, but enough bee stings can kill a person, right?

I pulled my flatscreen out and called up the website, making them watch the teasers. One for each race, both showing them owning somebody, and showing them getting owned. Some reacted with pride, other anger, some longing, but I was surprised by the amount of indifference that was before me. I already knew these guys were basically soldiers, but for them to be this cold kinda took the wind out of my sails a little bit. But I'd already promised myself...

"You all see this? This isn't just you guys fighting, or maybe you didn't notice that there were people, people like me, in the background. I'm not good at this speech gak, so I'll just cut to the chase. You!" I pointed at the humans. "You're all just hanging around, waiting for your God Emperor person dealie to show up and lead humanity. So he can return you to your normal state and all that."

"You!" I pointed at the other mostly-human guys, who were huddled up with the other things. "You've got your own pantheon thing going on. Hell, all of you have your reasons to fight, or to stay here, right?" A murmur of consent from the huddled masses. "Yeah, how do you like being made playthings, huh? How do you like somebody to try and act like a god over you?"

That got a murmur through them. Good. I was pressing buttons. I pointed to the ones with pointy ears, but they beat me to the punch. "We would not stand by such aggression against our people."

A warrior (Warrioress? I could barely hear them yelling at me, let alone make out their genders.) of the noseless guys called out. "We would support a rescue mission, if that is what you are implying."

The one guy, Magus I think his name was, stepped forward from the bug guys. "What did you have in mind?"

"WAAAAAAAAAAGH!" screamed the orcs, as if they were answering the question. I glanced to the metal skeletons. They hadn't left yet, but otherwise gave no reply. Good enough for me.

"Close enough. I say we spring them. Bust them loose. Uh... Free them from their imprisonment. And stuff. But I think that it's only right if you guys do it." I could feel the look that everybody seemed to be giving me. "Sure, I suppose that I could do it, I guess..." Me? Ha! Yeah, right. "But you guys sort of have the right. After all, it's somebody _enslaving_ your people, so I figure that a little payback is in order, don't you?"

A righteous cheer rang out, giving me a grim smile. "Alright then! Everybody out. We've got a week before the next match, and I'll need lists of everything that you need to get ready. I need a little time to prepare myself."

closed my door behind them and flopped on my bed, closing my eyes tight. In a way, that was the easy part. It had just been yapping. Now I actually had to deal with the consequences of getting them riled up.

"YOU DID WELL, YOUNG ONE."

I jerked my head up, only to find one of the block guys standing next to me. The "in death I serve" ones. Another reason why I liked talking with them, they had volume control. I could hear them without straining. A weak smile found its way to my face. "I have no fething clue what I'm doing."

"I WOULD NOT EXPECT ANYTHING LESS FROM YOU," he said, putting one of his clawed "arms" on my hand. "YOU WOULD NEVER MAKE IT AS A MARINE, BUT YOU WOULD HAVE MADE A GOOD GUARDSMAN. YOU KNEW HOW TO INSPIRE."

Sure. Right. I'd call it bluffing and letting the anger do the talking, myself. But I didn't want to listen to him blather on like that. Time for a topic change. "Can I ask you a question? Like, privately, it goes no further than us?"

"MY BROTHERS ARE GUARDING THE DOOR. NONE WILL DISTURB US, NONE WILL KNOW OF WHAT WE SPEAK." A pause. "THEY ARE... ENSURING THAT YOU HAVE TIME TO PREPARE YOURSELF." I could hear the humor in his tone.

I sucked in a deep breath. "You guys, you believe in your god-emperor dude, and from what I've gathered, you don't tolerate heresy. Like, at all. So, um... Why... Why haven't you attacked me? Or the rest of us? Aren't we, you know, heretics?"

He laughed at that. At least, I assume it was a laugh. It's hard to tell, him being a metal brick with a synth voice and all. "WE HAD MANY DEBATES ON THIS. HOWEVER, IT WAS DECIDED THAT HUMANITY HAS NOT YET BEEN ENLIGHTENED BY THE GOD-EMPEROR OF MANKIND. AS THE EMPEROR HAS YET TO ENLIGHTEN YOU TO HIS GLORY, YOU ARE NOT YET A HERETIC."

"So, if I don't follow him when he reveals himself, then I'm a heretic and worthy of death?"

"CORRECT." Well, that was comforting. "WE TOLERATE THE XENOS ONLY FOR NOW. WE WILL WATCH THEM UNTIL THE EMPEROR RETURNS, AND THEN DESTROY THEM IN HIS HONOR." He paused for a moment. "MAY I ASK YOU A QUESTION, YOUNG ONE?"

"Of course, grandpa." I had to get my rub in for him calling me young all the time.

"YOUR FRIEND, DAVID. HE IS AN UNUSUAL HUMAN." That's an understatement. "TELL ME, WHY DOES HE KEEP ASKING ME TO SAY THAT I AM IN IT FOR THE BITCHES?"

I had to laugh, if only because I didn't know the answer myself.

Chapter 4

The next week was... kind of intense, to be honest with you. I'll paraphrase, because the details were kind of boring. I've always kept a spare credit card in my fireproof safe, in case of emergency. Needless to say, for this I pulled it out.

Don't get me wrong! I'm not saying that I like all those guys, but some of them are... kinda cool in a way. They're like actual people, you know? Only... smaller. (I can't believe I just thought that. Maybe I AM going nuts...) Besides, how often do you get to see something like this, you know? How often do you get to say that you got to outfit not just one army, but a whole slew of them?

That said, it wasn't easy. I had to keep telling people, no, there's no such thing as "promethium" or bolter rounds. And a lot of the stuff that the elder guys and the tech priests asked for was well beyond my ability to comprehend, even when they kept dumbing it down for me. The Tao guys, they seemed to understand that I had limits to what I could do and asked for simple enough stuff. It took me a bit to figure out what the orcs wanted, too. At first, I thought that they were making a lousy Arnie impression and asking for a helicopter. Once I figured out what "dakkah" and "choppah" were, though, it got real easy, real fast.

Pretty much, my days fell into the following rituals.

Wake up. Free my junk from the little "one arm is a blade" chicks. Get the hedonistic elder people out of my bathroom. Shower. Enjoy a meal that the battle sisters and the slash folks cooked for me. (Two breakfasts, but I don't dare tell the sisters that they can't cook eggs worth gak.) Take a peek at what the orcs built overnight. Watch as the humans struggle to improvise, something they don't appear to be the greatest at. They're better than the elder people, though.

Go to work. Call home during my lunch break, talk to everybody on the speakerphone, get a list of what they all need today. Get off work after getting chewed out by my boss that I'm not paying attention as well as I should. Hit up the hardware store, the toy store, a few places where I can buy chemicals, sometimes cloth, sometimes paper... I'd hit up friends for fireworks, empty coffee cans or tins... Whatever. I always concluded my shopping run with a trip to a different pet store. Fish, spiders, scorpions, whatever I could get my hands on. The bug guys demanded it.

When I got home, I'd divvy everything up to everybody. Race cars, sheet metal, nails (tons of those), screws, piping, what have you. Something for everybody.

If I could get a handle on what was going on, I'd lend a helping hand. Usually, it ended up with me helping the orcs, which thrilled them to no small end. They liked it when their "boss" helped them. (Apparently, I killed their former boss during the initial attack right off the bat. With a book.) I don't know why, but I'd always hum the theme to the A Team. After that, I'd enjoy another double-meal while discussing strategy, but by the end I was always feeling pretty exhausted. I'd lumber up to bed and just flop down, hoping I didn't squish anybody.

The only reason why I didn't kill the pervert chicks in the morning arose here. They'd start to massage me, which wasn't easy, you know? Eventually, some of the dark elder people would join in. I think that the humans thought the others were trying to corrupt me, so they'd join the act, too, singing hymns at the same time. It's... surprisingly easy to fall asleep to that kind of treatment. And then I'd wake up and start it again...

At least, that's generalizing it all. There was plenty of variation in-between, but that's the basic idea. I'd also do stuff like scout the place where the "deathmatch" was going to take place, look into renting a truck, that sort of thing. A lot of time was spent praying that I wouldn't get arrested by the cops following my paper trail.

Frankly, I don't think I could have managed it without Caleb, the "dead" guy in the metal walking brick. He was good about encouragement, and helping me sort through strategy. He'd fought enough "xenos" in his days to know how they operated, so he was able to give me some insights. Though some of his plans really... Well, they were kind of dumb. That's where the Tao (Tau? Whatever.) came in. Did I mention that they always wanted to help? Almost creepy in a way, to be honest. But by the time that the day had arrived, we were as ready as we could be.

I parked the truck and gently put on my backpack. According to my watch, I had ten minutes before the show started. Good enough for me. I made a show of locking the truck, too. Thanks to the economy, everything's been shutting down, so most of the places in this neighborhood had closed shop. This particular warehouse had been used once upon a time for those robot wars things, so it even had seating, or so I heard. (I preferred the one hosted by Lister, used to watch it on cable. Paying extra for a foreign channel was worth it.)

The guy at the door eyed me as I held out the $50. "Show's about to start." He paused. "What's with the backpack?"

I reached inside and pulled out a marine to show to him, holding it by its base. "Just want to compare them to mine. See where I fethed up, see what I got right. No cameras or nothin'! I read the rules, and I want to come back."

He seemed to debate this for a moment, then shrugged and let me through. After a moment, guilt hit me. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

The little guy seemed indignant, about to rip his boots free from where I'd superglued them. "It takes more than that to hurt-"

"Right, shh." I slid him back into the bag and milled about for a few moments. Finally, I set the backpack down and moved for a seat. Too far away to see anything, but it was better that way. From where I'd ditched my backpack, I could see marines, Caleb, some Tau, and others making their way out. Right.

"Ladies and gentlemen," boomed the voice on the PA. Where did they get the power for that, since they didn't own the building? "Are you ready for the show to begin?"

He had no idea.

I wasn't paying attention to the speech in the slightest. Usual pump up the crowd bs that you hear at pep rallies. I left those behind when I graduated high school. No, my eyes were glued to my watch. I was close enough to hear the soft cry of the guy at the door, two seconds late. Fortunately, I seemed to be the only one who did. I prayed... feth, I don't know who I was praying to. God? The emperor? Slashesh or whatever? Mork (and Mindy)? I don't know, but I just wanted to have everything go off without a hitch.

The part of my brain that was paying attention to my surroundings told me that people were moving closer to the "arena." Meanwhile, I was counting down. My fist came to my teeth, and my heart felt like it was going to explode. Motion at the door, near the floor. Close enough. Now all that they were waiting for was...

The crash of glass announced their arrival. It wasn't just one window pane from above our heads that shattered, it was all of them. Instantly, I began to relax. Now my role was getting easy. Wait until the chaos, go grab the people and put them in the backpack, and scramble back outside, hoping nobody got me by mistake.

Which, considering that there were suddenly nails shooting all over the place, airplanes carpet bombing small pipe bombs and spraying homemade napalm, and then their own "heavy" weapons... That prospect wasn't looking so hot.

I wasn't going to get involved. I kept telling myself this. In the bloodbath going on around me, with the people screaming and falling over and catching on fire, I'm a non-combatant. I was like a medic, right? As I pushed through the crowd, the people running towards the deathtrap that was the door acting as living cover for me, I tried to convince myself of this. That I was the good guy, and that I wasn't responsible for anything if I didn't actually hurt anybody.

That all changed when I saw Caleb get kicked. I don't mean, bumped over, I mean as he was drilling rounds into somebody else, a guy up and kicked him right into a Tau in power armor, sending them both crashing into a wall. The little blue guy was bleeding, I could see that much on the wall, but all other details were lost to me. I couldn't tell if he was hurt, scratched, or splatted. And I couldn't even begin to guess at the fate of Caleb. My dreadnought friend.

My dreadnought.

My friend.

My friends.

I saw myself grabbing the fether. Whirling him around. My fist connecting with his face. Again and again and again, until he wasn't fighting any more. I turned, looking back at the "arena," separated from it by a stripe of fire. I couldn't hear the battle cry of the orcs, or the screaming of the people. There was the fether in charge. I couldn't hear the humans scream to purge the unclean, the guys with the guitars playing their ear shattering music, the distinctive sounds of the Eldar or Necron weapons. He was just standing there, watching everything. Terrified. I bellowed. I hollered. And I charged...

Chapter 5

I winced as the bone in my hand shifted. ...Okay, I lied. I grabbed my bedsheet with my other hand and grit my teeth until I thought they were going to break. The dread had no sense of compassion right now, it just kept on setting bones. It wasn't Caleb, either. Rengar something-or-another. Caleb wouldn't be done with repairs for some time still. I was told that he would... survive.

I kinda wished I hadn't now. If a dreadnought ever offers to tend your wounds, don't take him up on the offer.

When you listen to them talk, everybody tells a slightly different story about what happened. Some orcs say that I yelled "Here we go, here we go, here we go" as I began to assault every full-sized human who wasn't otherwise being slaughtered. Other orcs say I yelled "waagh," or however you spell their war cry. A Tau, in order to stop the fighting, suggested that both camps might be right. Seemed to work for the time being.

The humans were a mixed back. The imperial guys thought I cried out to purge them all in the emperor's name, only in less words. Meanwhile, somebody from the Chaos side said I swore an oath to the blood god. We... lost a lot of people over that. At least the Elder and the Tau agree on what I yelled. "Finish it." Somehow, I think that everybody might be right, and wrong at the same time.

That was... a month ago or so. Yeah, I got questioned by the cops, but when I eagerly showed them my "kickass modded remote control car collection," they seem to have dropped me as a suspect. Haven't even called into work about if I went in that day or not. Which work would look at my time card and say that I clocked out right on time. When the IT guy knows the passwords to change the time cards and knows how to cover his tracks...

"YOU SHOULD NOT HAVE PUNCHED THE WALL."

"It was either that or kill the melon-fether." A demonette cooed into my ear. I wasn't sure if she was comforting me or encouraging me.

"DON'T DO IT AGAIN OR YOU WILL BREAK THINGS FOR THE THIRD TIME." A pause as he began to put the splints on again. "ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?"

"Yeah. Just so utterly aware of the fact that I'm alive thanks to that bastard." Rengar seemed amused by that answer. You learn to tell these things.

Dave. The bastard. I'd just tried to call him for the first time since things went down. He wigged. Needless to say, our friendship is probably over. Maybe he'll get over it in a month or two. Still, I can help but feel like he's a waste now. I did what was necessary. I did the right thing. And now he's... He said I'm not the same, and he's right. But he's the one who couldn't rescue them himself, so feth him. I was tempted to let some of the more... disturbed Sla-whatever-I-give-up-on-this-stupid-name people have their way with him.

...But by the way that the sisters were eyeing me, I knew I wouldn't.

I had to be careful with them, now. Especially since the demonettes have been earning me extra money. They've been, uh, using household items for their own amusement, shall we say. I can see how it might be arousing, but since they started filming it with my webcam, I kinda figured why not make some extra money? Throw a filter or two on it, sell them online as CGI. Not a lot of money, but enough that I'm considering moving. Bigger house, with more bedrooms. One for each faction. That should take the arguments down a notch.

Except for the ones about my soul. Whatever.

Though, I had found the notes of a guy online. Another guy who had more of these people. I gotta admit, I've been considering trying to get ahold of him. You never know, right?

Right?

Mini Marines lol
I've not been amused so much for a very long time, I look forward to you adding more chapters soon

And anyone who says that wouldn't want their own tinyhammer is lying lmao.

Hilarious! Great story! Thanks for posting it.

more chapters for the blood god!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

sorry bout that

love it, its great, looking forward to some more

Wow.... That was.. EPIC AWESOME!

Ok then, this was another version of the story poasted by the great gorks and morks of 4chan!

enjoy!

So yeah, I'm writing all this stuff out so that if someone stumbles into my home thats half on fire, somebody should know. Or at least to prove I'm not just going insane. Or maybe I am insane and am in a hospital. Then what am I typing this on? ..Okay, nevermind.

ANYWAY. So I woke up this one night, to this "boom" sound. The dogs outside were barking, I figured it was the jerk down the road with the gakky car that always backfires. The dogs kept barking and didn't run anywhere in specific, just sat outside and barked, which let me know that things were fine. So I went back to sleep. Yeah, that sounds bizarre to a lot of you, but most people sleep through traffic.

I woke up in the morning just fine. Crawled out of my queen sized bed, glanced at the computer before pulling my shirt off and heading to the bathroom. I heard something shift in the living room, but feth it, I just woke up, feth EVERYTHING.

With my morning routine of washing, pooing and trying not to fall back asleep on the porcelian hobbyhorse done, I thudded my way back to my room, hearing some papers fall in the living room. Cocking my eyebrow, I stopped in front of my door, listening for anything else. Satisfied I went into my room, pulled on a fresh pair of pants, and headed into the living room to clean up whatever it was.

Oh my god. Some people say that things look like a warzone after a small child or a tornado, but their rooms don't have blackened craters on the walls and bodies strewn about. Hell, there were even a few goddamn TANKS on the floor. Dead bugs littered the room, with a couple about the size of rats splattered across the carpet. Little bits of tiny men were strewed here and there, though it seems it was mostly the bugs. My eyes turned towards the door. The big wooden door was open, with a few blastmarks on the lower half, and the bottom panel on the screen door was absolutely torn away, and there were more little corpses and bugs trailing off outside.

I decided to go get shoes.

Now most people would just think "lol somebody forgot to put away their toys" in that naive little "I'll do my best not to imagine anything wrong" way, but I don't have any kids, I don't know any kids, and they sure as hell wouldn't bring a swarm of locusts into my house.

So I grabbed the broom too.

Slowly sneaking my way back into the hall, I heard the tinest little yelp come from the archway into the living room, and saw a blur of moment down at the floor. Leaping the last three feet, I landed with a heavy thud that shook the old house. Looking down, I saw a few of the tiny men, in green/tan uniforms, dash under my mother's display cabinet. Like a grade A slasher movie idiot, I dropped to my stomach, my head pressed against the ground to look under the cabinet. There were three tiny little men down there, huddling in the darkness. One of them lifted something in his arms and fired a.. blinking laser pointer at me? It kind of tingled where it hit though, and when he caught me in the eye with it, well you know how I goes. I got back up on my knees, giving the tiny men big curse words as I pressed my palm over the offended eye.

Thats when I saw their friends.

Heralded by a throaty, if high pitched, battlecry, about twenty more of the little men running across the carpet, each one carrying one of the tiny laser pointers. A man in a black coat was pumping his little legs as fast as he could, swinging a sword wildly and firing a tiny little gun that couldn't even go "pop", more of a "pap pap". Even a few of the tanks I had seen just lying there were coming about, floundering in the carpet. feth.

And me? Me, mister man of action with all the plans? I sat there on my knees, dumbfounded. What the feth, really. I felt I was kind of screwed. But then thats when the blue guys attacked.

Bigger and thicker than the army dudes, the blue guys had gold trim all over them. They had smaller guns, but they were firing these things that actually went pop, like those little pop-it fireworks you can buy at the grocery store for 50 cents. They didn't serve to do much but blacken my carpet and break up the army guy's formation, causing them to bounce away. The blue guys were oddly silent, though there was this one with a glowing sword that was chuckling to himself.

So while I was having some serious Advance Wars flashbacks, these red rockets started to swoop out from on top of my mother's hutch (she loves heavy furniture). They were going kind of slow of rockets, I remember. Really slow. And they had these skinny guys with red cone-hats riding them. My jaw just drops at this point.


So the army dudes have wheeled about, turning to fire their laser pointers (which have a solid beam. Thats weird.) at the blue guys, which seem to not even be flinching as they just pop away at the army men. A few men on either side take potshots at the rocket dudes, who seem perfectly happy to just fly circles around my living room and occasionally buzz the others.

Now its kind of suprising, but at this point I've at least got motor control back. So I stand up and yell "WHAT THE HELL!?". Everything stops, except for the rocket dudes. They freak out and shoot back to on top of the hutch. But I look down on the green and blue guys and repeat my shout.

Now, I dunno about you, but when someone 60 times my size tells me to give an account, I'd do what he says. These fethers? No. They break for it. The army dudes dash under the display cabinet, with the tanks driving behind the entertainment center. The blue dudes slowly turn about, and start to run for the couch. I step forward to block them with the broom, since most of them are pretty damn slow, but the one with the sword lifts it up, and with a big poof of smoke (AND ANOTHER BLACK SPOT ON THE CARPET) they vanished.

I pointed the broom at the top of the hutch. "Don't think I've forgotten you."

The room falls silent again, as the red guys with the jet things on top of the hutch try and hide, and the army men go deep into the recesses of the display cabinet, little murderous men under shelf after shelf of dolls. What a day so far. Though oddly, I don't see any new corpses.

At this point I hear some more high pitched yelling coming from an old shelf unit in the far corner of the room. Great. What NOW? Tromping over that way, kicking one of the spiny baseball sized bug corpses out of the way, I find a bunch of green hairless gorilla-dudes staring up at me, every one of them holding some sort of killing instrument, either an axe, or small gun, a few of them had even taken some nails out of a box on the floor. One of them, who looks like he's wearing one of my Mechwarrior: Dark Age mechs as a suit, is yelling at the others as they look up at me. "OI YOU GITZ!! LISTEN UP! 'E MAY BE BIG BUT 'E'S NOT THA' BIGGIST! OI'M DA BIGGIST AND OI'M DA WARBOSS! 'E AIN'T EVEN ORKY, 'E'S A BIG PINK 'UMIE!"

"I'm a what?" I raise my eyebrows, doing my best to look perturbed. Several of the smaller green people shrink down in fear.

The one covered in metal let out a high-pitched yelp, spinning around and stammering for a second before pointing one ugly cybernetic finger at me. "Y-Y-YOU'RE A 'UMIE! A BIG PINK STINKIN 'UMIE! YOU AIN'T NUFFIN! I'S DA WARBOSS! I LEAD DA BOYZ! NOT YOU!"

Great. Just great. I had a little green thing complaining about how I made him feel immasculated. I grabbed a book from the shelf just above him and with a whipping arm motion, smashed him against the shelf. Rather than splatter like a juicy bug, he kind of just crumpled, letting out a weak "Aaaooouuuuuuuuuchh.." before I jabbed a finger at the others, still huddled together. "Stay put." I growled.

Okay. My house has been invaded by little men who want to do nothing but kill. I glanced at the clock. I've only been up 10 minutes. Oh god.

I needed caffiene. I headed into the dining room. Well, we called it the dining room but it too was full of huge heavy furniture, but there was a large table in it, covered in my dad's tools for work. There were papers strewn everywhere, and I noticed more little men on my mom's computer. These ones were funny looking. They wore robes, but had extra mechanical limbs. They looked kind of sickly too, as they looked up at me. One of them started to talk with a weird synth voice. "New Contact. Biological. Specificiations beyond limit. Error. Error. Engaging biological nerve center. Dear god that thing is huge! Its gigantic! Oh Omnissia save u-Biological nerve center overheated, disengaging. Designating contact as Huge. ATTENTION CONTACT HUGE. CEASE FUNCTION. THE MOST HOLY OMNISSIAH HAS CLAIMED THIS TEKNOLODGEE AS HIS OWN AND HIS WILL CANNOT TOLERA-URK!"

I decided to cut him off by flicking him off the keyboard. He flew through the air, hit the monitor, and fell to the desk. The other men stopped in mid motion, one of them even falling over due to his position, like a dead robot.

Need caffiene AND something sweet now. Almost to the kitchen now. Almost.

On to the utility room. Its a lil room with a concrete floor, kind of like a garage that you'd have trouble fitting a bike in. Don't ask me, I didn't build the place. Like I said though, concrete floors. I nearly trip over something as I step down into the room. There's this floating black/green pyramid thing. feth it, I don't want to know, the kitchen is right there. I kick it. HARD. It smashes into the far wall and the green lights go dim. Good. fethers.

It was all kind of surreal you know. I kind of felt like I should be having a nervous breakdown and calling the cops and gak. I mean, I have about 20-30 army men with tanks, about 30 green gorillas, well, heheh, 29. A bunch of little men riding rockets, some ungodly bugs, and whatever that black thing in the utility room is. So I've got at least over a hundred new residents in my home. I stopped making myself a sandwich and sat down, facepalming. What the hell man? ...Well. Then again, I don't see anything here in the kitchen. Maybe I just had a rough night and was sleepwalking AND dream walking.

Then I noticed the little man in bulky green armor standing on my table admiring my fork. As I stared at him, as if I could look through him into normalcy, his raised his dark-skinned head and stared back at me. "I was wondering who would use a hab this large." We kind of stared at each other a few moments more. "So... you're not going to shoot at me or something?" I murmured, taking another drink of my soda.

"It would probably not do well if the Inquisition did not hear that I wasn't attacking you in the name of our Emperor, if thats what you mean." The little man said. It was kind of odd hearing such a deep voice come out so highpitched.

"There's more of you, aren't there." I said, deadpan in my delivery. It was a supreme will of effort not to glance over at the knife block and see if they were already taken.


"Yes, there are a few more squads of my Bretheren. We are hardened warriors though, and fight like many if you wish to seek a weakness." He stood proud, jutting his armored chest out. I stared at him. Barely an inch high. I could flick him into the next room. I could bury them in cat litter. And they were trying to posture. Screw it. "Are you responsible for the bug mess in the living room?"

"If by that you mean the tyranid xenos laid waste in the largest chamber, then yes, the Imperium and my Battle Brothers have ended many of them." He was practically swelling with pride.

"Mmm. So what are you doing here?" FINALLY I asked the big question. Well at least one of them. I damn well wanted to ask more, but hey, one of them isn't shooting me. Although all of a sudden I was tempted to go back to the living room and step on some tanks.

"We are making fortifications and making preparations to assault the Foul Xenos and Traitor Legions, to Purge Their Taint From The Galaxy." Goddamn, you could actually HEAR him capitalize those words. "Then we shall re-establish communicae with the Imperium and bring this world into the fold. Tell me, giant one. Are you abhuman or Xenos?"

Huh. The little black man in green armor was asking the questions now. I cocked an eyebrow at him, the twitch causing my eyebrow to raise higher than he was tall. "Human, thank you very much. You guys are the ones with giant bugs."

"Your feet may tread where they please, giant, but do not let your words wander down that road. We are the Adeptus Astartes! We are Humanity's finest, and are aligned with no Xeno." Oh god. One inch tall racist black men. I heard a clattering noise from the stove. I dared not look. "Right. Well mister Astartes, so I guess you answered my question of what you're doing... but where are you from? I mean, last time I checked you weren't the kind of little green men I expected."

"First, I am Brother Telnas of the Salamanders Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes. Space Marines, in Low Gothic." Oh God, he IS a little green man from space. "We were locked in battle with a multitude of our enemies. It was a glorious battle! But the cursed Heretics cast open a gate in the most hated Warp. The very planet seemed to pull apart as the battlefield was sucked into in the Maelstrom-" I get the feeling that Maelstrom is Telnas' favorite word already. "We landed in this great field, untouched by Chaos, by the Xenos, by the Ork. Battered and dazed we landed in this great field, but Humanity is strong, and lept upon our enemies like they were nothing! The Tyranid seemed especially dazed, cut off from their Mind, we butchered all but a few as we battled our way into this Hive, which I suspect now is your home."

My soda was gone now. Damn. Now I felt awkward as I got the Space Illyad from Inch High Private Eye. My mind rolled through the implications. My front yard was probably a lego-man graveyard at this point. At least the stray cats are probably gone now. I really didn't want to think about the burial work I'd have to do.

"So there are a bunch of you little guys, and you all hate each other, and are trying to kill each other. The blue guys and the army guys didn't seem to have an easy job of it. Though there's still splattered bug bits all over my living room. And how many groups are you? I met the army guys, the blue guys, the robot guys, the red jet guys, and whats left of the bugs."

"Blasphemy! The Heretics live yet! It pains me to my-" I interuppted him "Ah-ah-ah. Don't care. Answer my questions. I heard another noise from the stove, this time I turned my head, and bellowed with a yell that has scared numerous small children. "YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT TURNING THAT GAS ON AND I SWEAR TO GO I'LL DROP A CAST IRON MOTHERSHIP!" Numerous other green-armored men raised weapons, hunkering down behind spice bottles, not retreating, but not trying to ignite the range either. I
turned back to Telnas "Answer my question. How many of you."

Telnas looked angered, like I was pushing HIS buttons. Goddamn ingrateful little vending machine toy. "There are the mighty forces of the Imperium of Mankind. We battled the Ork, the Tyranid, the Eldar, and the Traitor Astartes. There may have been more, but it was a chaotic battlefield."

"Right. Tyranids are the bugs. Who are the others? I guess the Traitors are the blue guys? They looked a lot like you, only with big things on their head. And they were attacking the army men. They all attacked me in the living room though."

"Ah... Colonel-Commissar Debriac is a.. cautious man.." "He sent tanks against me!" "Very cautious." I glared at Telnas, exaggerating my frown.

I got up, startling his friends over on the over who ducked behind their spice-rack barricade, ducking out and peering through slits in the wood every few seconds, like a deranged bright green game of whackamole. Getting some whole wheat, I started to make myself some toast, rubbing my eyes.

"You know the fact that you're talking to me is the only reason I haven't started killing you all." I said to Telnas with my back turned. He responded with a serious tone, as laughable as it was with his highpitched voice. "Is that a threat, Giant?" "A threat? Ha. No, just a matter of fact. And I'm not giant, you guys are tiny."

Telnas started to object, raising his little out-of-proportion hand into the air at me. I cut him off, easily drowning him out. "So who are the Orks? And who were those robot guys on my mom's computer? I found some green ape guys in the corner of the living room. And yeah, the guys riding the rockets."

I half tuned Telnas out as I focused my thoughs. The urge to laugh maniacally was kind of strong, so I was trying to put that down. Listening to him though, it sounded like the cyborg guys were the "Scions of Mars" or something. Oh god, actual Martians. Adeptus Mechanicus. Times like this I wish I was catholic so I would know the language. The Orks were the green guys I yelled at, and they were apparently supposed to be bloodthirsty savages, though they seemed to cower fairly well from someone 60 times their size. The red guys were the Elder, or Eldar or something. Something stupid like that. They liked to fight and fly around. Well so far they all like to fight. with only a bite left on my toast, I look down at Telnas, deep in thought.

"Alright Telnas. I'm one of those guys who actually cares when someone can talk and think,("Heresy!" I heard quietly exclaimed from the stove.) so I'm not gonna smush you guys. Well at least you guys. Just know this. This is my home. My stuff. Imagine if little men walked into your home and started fething gak up. So yeah. And no fires. And stay out of the fridge. In fact, just stay on the stove. Here." I hand him the last quarter of my toast, butter glistening on it. Its big enough that he could use it as a delicious crunchy king-sized bed. "Eat up."

"Wait, Giant. I know not your name. If you are a human, Child of the Emperor, I would wish you luck in battle." Telnas looked up at me, almost diplomatically. I wonder if he's their leader. I paused at the doorway back to the utility room. "Jon. Name's Jon."

I stop in the utility room, and look in the corner behind the washer where that black and green thing landed. Gone, with only a scuff on the wall. I get the feeling I'm going to regret it...

Back into the dining room now. The cyborgs are still frozen in place, with their leader passed out. I peer in close. Its REALLY hard to tell, but I tell myself that the guy is still breathing. He's still beeping at least. I take the frozen guys and put them up on the desk next to him, and type out "Sorry" on the monitor for him to see when he wakes up.

I head back to the living room.

First things first, I notice a bad smell. Probably the Tyrans. Teerans.. Bugs. Looking around, I didn't see any of the little army men. Or Guard as Telnas told me. Much like Empires, I always worry about militaries called Guards. No sign of the blue guys either. Thousand Islands or something. But in the corner, right where I left them, where the green brutes. Orks, they're called. I step up to them. They're still on that shelf, though some little ones (seriously tiny, like I've had boogers bigger than them) were trying to pry the crumpled-up mechanical ork back into a semblance of a humanoid shape. I felt a pang of guilt, but then I heard him swear and threw one of the little guys off the shelf. Guilt gone. Thankfully he just landed on the couch, dazed.

"HEY." I shout as I step up. The mass of green thuggy-looking things stand at attention. Or at least try. A few fall over, others whack themselves in the head with their weapons in a pathetic salute. "Which one of you is in charge?" I growled at the Orks. I realized there were LOTS of those little guys. Like at least as many as there were Orks.

"iz da boss" I heard weakly from the mangled remains of the first one. I was kind of saddened by the fact that he was still alive. I felt I should put him out of his misery. I cocked an eyebrow at the other orks. "Anyone ELSE?"

One of the orks started to speak up but was bumped and slugged silent by his compatriots. I didn't need this. "No. You there, speak up." A shorter Ork stepped forward, He looked a little more well kempt than the others, who thought "Mad Max" was overdressed.

"W-well.. Yoos... Yoos da biggist, biggir dan anyfing... and yer roit fighty... and yoo beat da boss.. eh... wouldn't dat make yoo da boss?" He instantly cowered, pelted with thrown bullets, a few boots, and a couple of the little guys as he said it.

I glared at the other Orks, snapping my teeth in a faux bite. Thats really weird. Its been maybe half an hour since I woke up and I'm already half-mad. I wonder what'll happen in another half hour. "And if I decide I'm the boss? You'll do what I say?"

The Orks started to mutter to themselves, while the prone leader muttered again "iz da boss yoo git". I lifted my hand, so they could see it. Curling it into a fist, I brought it down on the shelf, forcing them to jump as I glared at them, issuing my silent message.

"So... where's da fightan, boss?" One of the orks said, scratching his head with a rocket.

I stared at the Ork for several long moments. He was tiny. Orks seemed to come in many sizes. The biggest one was clad in a junky-looking suit, about a third of them seemed to be at least head and shoulders taller than the rest of the crowd. For every roughly-inch-high Ork there was at least one little Ork, small enough to fit a couple on my thumbnail. The one speaking was clutching a tiny little axe that still gleamed with blood. Or ichor. Or something. "..What?" I asked. "Well... Wez da Orkz. Wez gits ta fightan."

"Like, you have to go fight? Now?" The little muscle under my left eye was starting to spasm. Today was getting over the top for me. One of those days eh. At the little hairless green gorilla's nod, I sighed. "Fine. Go find those... tyr. bug things. Go hunt big bugs."

I kind of wondered if the bugs were intelligent. I was probably a bad person if they were, or at least for not finding out if they were. But hey, science fiction has taught us that all bug aliens are evil... right? Goddammit. feth this. "And no rockets in the house. In fact, take those big.. eggh. Take the corpses outside. Then you can hunt every last bug there is." I spun around, starting to yell almost maniacally. "NO ROCKETS FOR ANYONE IN THE HOUSE. I KNOW YOU'RE THERE. I'LL FIND YOU."

I went storming off back to my bed. I needed to get away from these little guys. I felt I should be screaming. If they were all hostile I could handle it better. But no, I have little black guys making forts on my stove, hairless apes doing pest control in my room, little rocketmen on my mother's hutch, and...

I threw open the door to my room. right there on the floor, *just* far enough away from the door that it didn't take his face off stood the blue guy with the sword and his blue and gold buddies. Taking a closer look as I stared at them, mere inches from my foot, the quiet ones were insanely detailed, with filigree and embossing and embellishing and all sorts of kinds of things that make them look way over detailed. I wantedt to scrape one clean. Their leader though, despite being shorter, was dressed in simpler armor. Though for some reason he had two snakethings coming off his backpack.

"Jon.." His voice was soft, syllabant, and not highpitched at all. In fact, it was in my head. Now, I know my various genres of fiction. I know when I might possibly be on the business end of telepathy. "Jon... You're having a bad day. Thats understandable, this is a lot to take in. Now I'm sure you have questions... Every moment seems to beg more. Of course you want answers to them. I can help, Jon."

I stared down at the little hood ornament contacting my mind. Little blue men talking to my mind. Ha. Ha. HA HA. HAHAHAHA. "I can literally eat you." I said, matter-of-factly.

"So noted. We'll talk later, okay?" His voice was more cheery as he lead his men out of my room, all of them jogging in unison with their little guns. As for me, I threw myself in bed , jammed the pillow on top of my head, and lay there, hoping that it was all just a terrible terrible hallucination of a nightmare.

End Chapter 1

Chapter 2

It was about 11am when I finally pulled my head out. Somehow I managed to fall back asleep for a few minutes despite that soda. I rubbed my eyes, clearing the gunk out as I sighed. It must have been a bad dream. I'm already forgetting the particulars of it, see? Perfectly normal. I just had a bad dream and it lingered while I.. got dressed.. and ate some toast.. Oh mannn....

I looked around my room. Well at least they hadn't gotten back in here. Though there were more than a few places to hide. Under the bed, under the bookshelf, in the closet with no door, hell, even in one of the drawers. Just to be safe I popped open the drawer with my only non-digital porn source, a Letters to Penthouse book. Nope, I'm good. Though looking at the model kit motors and tiny r/c submarine made me worry worse.

Wait, I live in Indiana, what are they going to do with a submarine? Take it easy, Jon. Deep breaths. Mannnn... At least my parents were gone for a while for a fairly unremarkable yet incredibly convienient reason.

Okay. Seriously this time. Long thick jeans? Check. Shoes with thick soles? Check. Broom? feth, I left that in the living room. Thats fine. We're all cool here. Deep breath. Okay. I pulled open the door sharply, eyes on the floor to see who was to meet me this time. Huh, nobody. I listened carefully then, in case they were just out of sight. Oh god, paranoia now? Calm down, calm down. Its not paranoia if you're right. I think thats how it goes.

I heard noises coming from the living room. Heading back in there, I really shouldn't have been suprised at the sight that greeted me. Well, somewhat. The mob of Orks were still there, and they were technically cleaning up the corpses... The little green men were in a rough line leading out the door, throwing the little corpses of men, bugs, and even the occasional Ork body almost two feet, coming close to or directly hitting another Ork down the line, who would swear and yell at the first one, and then throw the corpse on down, repeating, like a macabre combination of dodgeball and a bucket bridgade.

I stared at them for a few moments, until one of them, who was getting hit a little more often than not, ran over towards the offending greenskin, tackling it to the ground and starting to punch the crap out of him. "HEY!" I yelled, stomping hard with one foot. Like I said I've got dogs, and that usually breaks up minor scuffles. Of course I didn't expect every single ork to stop what they were doing and look up. "Knock it off!" I growled.

"Yeh! Quit mukkin about and git ta werk!" yelled one of the taller orks. I silently wonder if that whole "more afraid of you than you of them" thing applies to little inch high space men. Well, I hope so anyway. After watching them a minute longer, I headed back into the dining room.

I saw the little men running around my mother's computer again. Glad mine's safe. I make sure to close up the cabinet my dad's computer is in. Yeah, we all have computers, get over it. Its 2008. Only now there was a little green-armored guy, a, whattyacallem, Astartes, standing on the desk, giving orders to the cybermonks. The one I flicked was limply sitting to one side. I stopped in front of the litttle armored dude. Huh. This one's red, and has robot arms. I point towards my victim.

"Is he gonna be okay?" I ask. "While the Vile Forces of The Heretics were most savage in their attack on the Techpriest, it takes more than Massive Blunt Trauma with a Rating of 279% Lethality to harm the might forces of the Imperium! I have intoned the Chant of Ignition and we now await the Ritual Of Booting." Awful casual with the giant asking him questions. I wonder if they're used to this kind of thing. I step past them, pausing only a brief moment to unplug the wireless antenna. Definitely dont' want that to get used.

The pile of junk in front of the mostly-shut basement door only bothered me for a second as I moved through the utility room. After all, if some of them get into the basement, oh well, we never go down there, and they're all wayyyy too short to reach anything important. Except maybe a few inches of water. I wonder if little men can swim.

I throw open the half-doors to the kitchen, and startle the lizard-guys. What was it? Salamanders. I startle the Salamanders on the stove again. I hear the dim yet highpitched cries of them from across the room, "Heresy!" and "For the Emperor!" as they bobbed up and down ridiculously fast behind their fortifications. I couldn't help but think of the whackamole analogy again, though this time I noticed that the spice rack had been busted up and had now been formed into a barricade.

I started to wonder what they were using as nails when a hail of tiny little rockets, like, a quarter the size of firecrackers, whizzed over my head, followed by a rocket about the size of a firecracker. Great. Little green Thumbelinas are shooting at me.

"Hey! HEY! Stop it! Goddamn little mousketteers!" Okay, snappy comeback meter was a little off there. "Dammit I'm here to talk!" After a few moments, the only thing left of their salvo were a few black marks the size of a pencil, and a coffee-cup sized black mark where that missile hit.

Before I could unleash my frustrated rage at them however they all vanished....again. Huuggghh...this was going to be a wonderful day...so much for the hallucinations I guess....

I decided to make a sandwich....

So there I was, making a sandwich in the kitchen when suddenly I heard something.
It sounded kind of like a tiny rope being pulled trough something.

''KHREAT ONEH!''

The little, bald man covered in armour was standing next to my bread basket.

''WEH HAVH COME TO ASKH YOUHR HELP IN THE SEHRIS OF THE EMPRA'' he sqeaked.

''What?'' I sighed.

''THE ACCUHRSED KSENOHS HAVH TAKEN OVER THE HOLEE REMHOTE-DEVICE''

''You mean the TV's remote control?''

''YESH, KREAHT ONE, WHE HUMBLEH ASK FOR YOHR AIDH IN THES ENDEAVOUR!!''

''Just let me finish making this Sandwhich''

''BYEH YOHR WORD''

''Right.''


When I entered the living room my jaw dropped.

The little green dudes were screaming their heads off at the little dudes in spiky red armour.

''Hey HEY WHAT'S GOING ON HERE!'' I explaimed loudly.

Everything went quiet.

''Dem...dem spiky boyz iz stealin' our Tuh-luh-ve-sion''

I turned to the spiky dudes.

''BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD, SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!!!'' They yelled in one big chorus.

I rubbed my face. Ugh.

It's been about 5 days since I've gotten new "housemates" I guess. That's about as fething generous as I'll allow given my utter lack of caffeine at the moment....

At first my house was a war zone

Every one of the tiny factions was yelling and shooting at the other one.

Green men fighting yellow men in the bathroom.

Miniature tanks crashing into tiny bug-like critters.

Some black spiky dudes even managed to capture a few soldier-looking dudes in a milk glass, claiming their ''Slave hunt'' to be successful.

It took me 2 days to restore order, and eventually had to bring out what seemed to be my greatest weapon against the chaos in my flat.

They called it ''The dreaded Titan-Monstrocity of Doom''

I called it the Vacuum cleaner.

Eventually things started settling down, after I threatened to suck each and every one of them into the eternal realm of pain inside the vacuum.
I found it to be helpful to keep the different factions of mini dudes apart.

The so called ''Humans'' got my bedroom.

There were little dudes in armour, small soldier-men, some girls in armour and some guys who looked like the terminator.
Mech monks or priests or something.

The lavatory was the domain of the so called ''Heretics'' according to the human dudes, which meant every time I went to take the piss, some little blue/green/red dude was standing on the toilet's flush button, trying to convert me to ''Worshiping the Chaos gods''

The little yellow dudes seemed to take a liking to the bath room. They seemed nice, helping me a lot and one day even making a truce with the humans to bring me my ''Scepter'' aka. my toothbrush into my bedroom.

The kitchen was the domain of the greenskins, partially because it's walls were painted light green themselves.
Although kind of loud, they regarded me as some kind of higher Orkish deity or something called Tork or Mork I think.
Also, they've built a little fort out of scarp metal and garbage on a kitchen counter. It's kind of like a miniature castle. The only thing that concerns me is that I allowed them to have my old toy cars, they seem to be trying to convert them into something...deadly. At least for the other little guys.

The hallway closet seemed to be harbouring the small bug dudes. I'm still trying to find them a better place, as they seem to be feeding off my old mittens and coats.
Which I don't like one bit.

The living room, being the largest and most ''diverse'' in terrain has been declared a neutral zone.
Mostly because I don't want little tanks shooting at little converted toy cars while my shows are on.

All of the factions seem to have a great respect for the so called ''Televatus''
Me allowing them to watch some shows is keeping them from beating each other senseless with miniature sticks, although it seems like they are always warring at who can be next.

The little black spiky dudes and their green and white armoured fellows seem to have set up ''camps'' all over my house.

One day I almost crushed a small hover tank when sitting on the couch. Seems they had built some kind of strong point under the pillows. Heh, elusive as they may be, they aren't running around the hallways in legions like the others.

It takes me a LOT of strength just to maneuver trough my flat nowadays...

The busiest time of the day for me is the morning, when I have to feed al the little bastards.
Fortunately, they lack the strenght to open the fridge door themselves, so each morning I have to make them a mini version of my food ( they INIST it's the exact same as mine, e.g. bread and butter, porridge ect.) and try to guard them againsts the greenskins jumping and mugging them as they make their way out of the kitchen.

Food seems to be a valuable commodity to them. Their food supplies seem to be at the very hearts of their so called ''Fortresses''

I once tried offering them alcohol.
Bad idea.
The fething bugs exploded from it, leaving my kitchen table a mess.

It's odd, I've been watching the ones with the hovering tanks travel around lately, they seem to be from two distinct camps.

One of them favours the blocky ships, mostly keeping to their part of the house, rather quiet and a lot less intent on either worshipping me or converting me to whatever they do worship.

The other ones are a lot harder to find. Rounder tanks, seem intent on skittering through the hallways when they think I can't see them. I seem to keep seeing the same group too, it's almost as if they're teleporting around.

The black ones seem to be some kind of ''Slavers''
They once nigged a bowl from my kitchen.
I later found it upside down, with helpless armoured dudes captured inside.

The green and white ones prefer high spots in my house. I rarely see them, expect at breakfast time.


Watched the 'humans' doing their thing this afternoon when I got back from work, they seem intent on having their seperate groups as well.

The almost normal looking ones are usually on the floor, often doing drill practice or something similar. One of them in particular seems to be the designated leader, calling himself 'Commissar.'

The ones bouncing around on the bed are in really thick armour, apart from the occasional one intent on bossing the other ones around, who usually don't wear helmets. These ones seem to treat the regular humans as inferiors, except maybe to the so called 'Commissar,' which seems to be an unusual relationship.

That's not all, there are a particular bunch that hang around my computer a lot, look like robots in some places, but definitely have some human parts. I swear one of them has some sort of robotic tentacle-arm thing, but they get all shy and secretive when they know I'm around.

Running back and forth between the last two is a (comparitively) large, blocky shaped robot, who speaks rarely, and seems to sleep during the day. Perhaps he holds the night guard of some sort.

So, let's take a closer look at the little guys. Starting with the ones occupying my bedroom.

Every time I try to make my way in there I have to dodge numerous fortifications and make-shift barricades.

Seems they regard my Lego blocks as some kind of high-tech impervious fortification material.

It's fun to see them chasing raiding black spiky dudes with my Lego weapons, though.

Their main command center seems to be situated in an empty drawer in my desk. They've amassed a whole lot of stuff there. Ranging from my old compass to pencil, which they assured me MAY be used as ''tactical exterminatus warheads''

Should I tell them pencil leads don't actually have exploding capabilities?

The so called ''Space soldier marine'' guys like the lego box. They're constantly digging up some new piece, after which they conduct some kind of sermon to the Empire of theirs and praise it's Emperor for the great gift that is a Lego figurine's top hat.


The soldier guys park all their tanks and guns right in front of the door, in the fortifications.
They seem to be the most sane of the human guys, hardly ever trying to sing praise songs at SIX A.M. on a work day.

The Mech guys like my computer. They've probably found every bit of information I ever had on it. Including the porn.

Although the computer DOES run a lot faster now, since they have been tinkering with it.


And lastly, the crazy lunatic girls in armour.

They've built a chapel on my night-desk

And really, i mean a fething CHAPEL.

Praying quietly to their gods inside it is ok with me.
CONDUCTING SACRIFICES OF CAPTURED ENEMIES ON TOP OF MY WHILE I'M SLEEPING IS NOT.

They like to call me some kind of saint or prophet.
Heh.
I don't really care as long as they don't try to set fire to my book shelf again.

Next are the yellow Tao dudes.

As I've mentioned before, they have declared my bathroom as their base of operations, living on a surfance on a shelf, next to the shampoo.

It's kind of annoying, though, when I want to take a shower and robots with jetpacks fly right past me.

When they started to carve some fortification out of soap, I was displeased but I eventually calmed down when they offered to wash my back with the flying robots.

Helpful as they may be, they don't seem to be the toughest of my new room mates.

Every other faction has turned one of my rooms into a well fortified base.

They just carve round gazebos out of soap.

I'll have to get some Lego blocks to them.

I don't want them being replaced by spiky dudes.

Hearing ''ABANDON THE WEAKLING IMPERIUM OF MANKIND AND JOIN US'' while I'm on the potty is enough for me.
Oh, and also they have set up some kind of building in the wash machine. I don't have the heart to tell them what happens if I turn it on and some of them are still inside...

The Tau are... Friendly.

Really, really friendly. It is almost disconcerting.

They populate my bathroom, for the most part. Declaring my medicine cabinet as property of the Greater Good, or whatever. It is kinda convenient, though. All I need to do is ask, and they send little saucer shaped flying... Things to bring me various items of request. Usually my tooth brush.

Speaking of tooth brushes, they've even started brushing their teeth in concert with me, every morning and evening. I don't know where they got their tooth brushes from, but they treat the act like some kind of ritual.

Imagine, if you will, a long line of fifty odd, tiny, yellow clad, blue aliens, staring into the mirror with you as you all clean your teeth.

Disconcerting indeed.


They seem to be the nice ones (relatively...). I came across another bunch of them sneaking around the kitchen, clad in black.

From what the humans and tau are telling me, in between the screams of 'HERETIC!' and 'XENOS SCUM!' these ones keep kidnapping their men and hiding them, I usually find them stuck in tupperware containers or hidden under overturned cups (one of the orkz was having a fat old time in a non-stick wok, but I made sure he wasn't going to tell his buddies about it, I have food to cook).

The Heretics, eh?

Well they seem to love living in the lavatory and on the shelf behind it.
Out of all the factions their architecture is the most...concerning.
The Orps are a close second, though.

You see, the Chaos armoured dudes like to paint images. Not flowers and trees.
Pictures of people screaming and burning.
Every time I close the lavatory door, a new horrific picture of some dude's skull greets me. I suspect they are using blood for paint. I've told them no but they just scream one of their battle cries or try to convince me that the other human dudes suck and that I should decorate my ceiling with their severed genitalia.

The Chaos dudes seem to have for our three major groups

The first are the Big red ones, always running arouns screaming, always wielding either chain saws or some kind of ''chain'' axe.
They only cause trouble. Especially the time when they managed to saw my toilet paper roll in half.

The second ones are either blue or yellow-blue.

Then yellow-blue ones don't speak much. They just wade around slowly.

The blue ones seem to be some kind of leaders or wizards, as they cast little bolts of blue lighting at the other factions. They seem to have great interest in making me a so called ''Chaos lord'', offering me rewards ranging from sexual pleasure to endless riches.

The third are the green ones. They are the most messy ones. Yes, even messier than the greenskins in the kitchen.
Disturbingly, they like to swim in the toilet water and I always have to tell them to get out when I want to use the thing.

The fourth and final ones are ...how to say... perverted little melon-fethers.

I have to cover my junk every time I enter the lavatory, as one is bound to jump on my pants or hump my leg.

Their colour seems to be pink.

All in all, the Chaos guys might be annoying but always have fresh ideas and advice for me, although I have to filter out the ''Sacrifice your enemies to achieve happiness'' parts.

The Lavatory certainly seems like it was a good choice, I can't bear to imagine had I let them in my bedroom.

I mean to begin with those smelly ones would be insisting on finding some place warm to hide, no doubt they'd be hiding under my bedsheets before long.

Sleeping at night would be damn near impossible, between the blue/yellow ones trying to whisper things in my ear and the red ones having a go at my throat. That toilet paper didn't stand a chance, I can't imagine skin and cartilage would fare much better.

And I'd have kicked them out in no time if the pink ones happened to stumble upon my porn collection...

The Orks or ''ORKSEZ!!'' are simpe beings, numerous, but simple.

The Orks love battle. They literally thrive on it.
Not a day goes by when I don't have to stop them from stealing the food of the others.

Their second love is junk
Not a days goes by when I don't find an old can of SKUB being made into a tower of their fort.

Their third and final love is screaming their little heads of.

Each time I enter the kitchen a loud ''WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!'' greets me.

The others seem to have have SOME agreement with the greenskins for safe passage. Although how much the Orks like it I can't say.
Still, I'm constantly reminding everyone of what awaits them when they don't obey me.

Well, I have to work out some agreement with the Orks myself. However cool their fortress might be, it's made out of

VEGGIMITE
AND
PISS

And it stinks like it too.

The elusive dudes, called ''Elder'' dudes or ''Eldar'' are not (too) annoying but not helpful either. I hardly get a glimpse of their daily activites.
I just hope their not planning something horrible.

They come to get their daily ration of food in hover-vehicles. They're the only faction that seems to use them.

I don't know what's the deal with their black spiky and green-white smooth guys but it doesn't seem their that keen of each other.

The so called ''Slavers'' have been a small bother. It's always annoying to turn a mug over and find a few small dudes under it.

Although I do get major bonus points from the others for finding and freeing their friends before the dark and gloomy looking Eldar do god-knowns what to them.

The ones with smoother armour I get along with better. We don't talk much though, only an occasional ''Enjoy your day, Mon'Keigh'' from them and an ''Uhuh, yeah, you too'' from me.

As I've said before, I don't really care as long as they don't wreck the place up.
They even seem to help maintain some kind of order other factions.

I trust them to be able to stop a full scale war from breaking out.

It's day 7


For seven days now have I endured these little space guys running around my flat and insulting each other.

Actually, it's going really well. I haven't had to put out a fire in...3 days!

But today something happened that is worth mentioning.

When I came home, I noticed that there wasn't anything really to notice.

Usually there are a few body parts, some ichor or a few loose items in the hallway.
But today, it was clean as a whistle.

Of course I immedeatly started to worry, if not they had killed each other or maybe gone to ''explore''

But as I reached the kitchen I noticed 9 little figures standing on the kitchen table, all looking at me.

One of each race was facing me, their armour and decorations seemed a little more ...decorative than the normal dudes so I figured they were some kind of leaders.
Only the bugs were missing. i'm not sure if they even HAVE a leader.

''KHREAT ONEH'' Exclaimed the Space Soldier dude
''WE HAF GATHERD HERE TO DISCUS TEHS SETUATHSUN''

I sat on a stool.

''Mon'Keigh, as you have clearly come to understand, we are not from our world'' Said the Smooth Eldar leader. She was female, it seemed.

At this point I realized thatI had doomed myself into hearing little space warriors discuss how.

a) they were space warriors
b)why they had gotten here
c)why they were no bigger than my palm

I hated those kind of conversations. Especially the ''We have come from x galaxy and wield powerful bla bla yada yada to protect the world and so on'' parts.

''My dear ally, we have been staying in your...wonderful residence for seven days already.'' The Chaos guy remarked.

''GETTODA POINT!'' The greenskin yelled. He was the biggest of the bunch. Probably more machine than Ork.

''SEE, ME AN' DA SQUISHY BOYZ 'ERE HAVE BEEN WONDERIN'... ''

''What the xeno is trying to say is''

They all took a breath

''Would you be so kind big one, to let us stay in your residence?''

''WAIT, YOU XENOS AND HERETICS WILL NOT BE ALLOWED IN THIS HOLY PLACE''
''FOOLISH MON'KEIGH!''
''CHAOS WILL PREVAIL''
''THE OMNISSIAH HAS CHOSEN US!!''
''WAAAAAAAAGHH!''
''ACCURSED XENO!''
''BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!!''

And from there on it broke out in a big fight between all of them.

I...I had no words. These little feths, killing each other, gaking on the floor, drawing gruesome paintings on my walls, stealing my stuff...could I take any more of this?

The answer was right there.

''feth it, I REALLY don't care.''

''ARRRGH YOU BIT ME HERETIC!!''
''WAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!!!!''
''DIE XENO!''

I opened my mouth.

''Hey, HEY YOU LITTLE MONSTERS SHUT.
THE.
feth.
UP!''

Everything fell quiet.

''If you won't start to live with each other, IT'S fething VACUUM TIME''

I already was starting to have a migrane.

''YOU HAVE YOUR LEGO FORT THINGIES. KEEP AWAY FROM EACH OTHER AND DON'T BOTHER ME. WE'LL DO JUUUUUST FINE!''

After that they just stared at me.

My head was killing me, it was late, I was hungry and tired.

''Here are the rules: No fires, no sacrifices, no horrible works of art, NO FIRES and NO fething KILLING EACH OTHER TO DEATH!''

''COMPRENDE?''

''Y...yehs kreaht onhe...''

''Woteva' ''

''Mhm...''

''Wise choise, Mon'Keigh''

I sighed.

''I'm going to eat a sandwich, take a LONG hot shower and go to bed. MAKE ANY NOISE AND I WILL END YOU.''

Quickly slapping something together I absentmindedly took a bite....

*spluch*

Let me tell you, there is nothing more revolting then a dead carnifex between a ham and cheese sandwich....


(End for now! I'll dig up some more later! )

Great stuff, keep em coming