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 Pyroalchi wrote:
I'm sure it will. Also I think the Orky way is "the winner is the guy having the most fun and the treasure are the friends we made along the way"

that was beautiful

Ok on with the roll for the round. It’s 3!

Pedestrian precinct- stupid orks and grots are littering up the racetrack with their markets and their general pedestrian obstructions. Don't they know there's a race on?

“Oi!” SkagNet groaned, “Dat git jumped da gun !” He aimed his slugga squarely into the dust cloud already kicked up by Busta’s hasty advance. That was it, the starting pistol had fired. SkagNet felt a bit unsatisfied at his somewhat unceremonious methods but the other racers were already taring off the starting line.

It was only then that SkagNet really thought about what was up ahead in that direction. The bar strip, all the rival ork watering holes, Da Rusty Barrel, 'Ard Rokk Kaffe, Da Mekboyz Mess… Come to fink if it… GrodMek’s mekworx would be bunking off for a pint soon. The assembled lootaz and spannerz of one of the biggest mekworx in town would all pour out the gate and onto the strip right about…

A great steam whistle blew in the distance. SkagNet grinned a little evilly as his one good eye caught the glint of the orange sun flickering over the great gates of the mekworx as they swung open disgorging their thirsty load onto the street. The racers were heading right for them.

“Oi, Smirking! Bring up da wagon!” He barked. I gotta see dis.”

[My recommendation would be that the race ends before a winner is declared when some unforeseen enemy attacks us all.]

Racer is Busta, of the Evil Sunz. He is driving an old school Wartrakk (Picture the 3rd edition model or Gorkamorka).

Amazingly the slugga shell impacts right into the tread of the Wartrakk just as Busta started to hit the thrustas. This caused the vehicle to swerve into the dust and spin out. While Busta was spinning of course he was also careening into a host of grots and yoofs that had gotten in the way

Busta raised a fist as several of the other racers sped out ahead of him. "OI THAT'S CHEATING. YAH CAN'T JUST DAKKA AN ORK FROM BEHIND!"

Busta then peeled out and hit the thrustas to try and get back in the race. A few seconds later he forgot what he said about cheating and started firing his slugga with one hand at whatever vehicle happened to be ahead of him.

"Uhmm... Boss... Da seems to be som'at of a crowd up front...?" Balthasar shouted down the speaker tube connecting his high seat on top of the Trike with Toothgrapplers driving seat. A first bumby jump as the vehicle drove over something elastic underlined his warning nicely. Yet the Weirdboy, sitting so deep in his seat with the big long gooseneck handlebars in front of him, he could barely make out what was in front of him, and it didn't really matter anyway, as long as it went forwards. "How unfortunate for Dem. Do us da honour and sound da horn, to make way for us." "We don't have a horn yet, Boss!" "Well... then make some noise, tally ho" The Grot rolled his eyes, shrugged and got a grip on the big burna that was hanging on a pintle near his seat, swinging it around towards what counted as forward on the construct. With a loud roar, the burna sputtled to live, sending a bellowing cloud of burning ... stuff high into the air and to both sides of the speeding vehicle. The green flames definitly announced their presence loudly and all the Grots and Boyz in front of them tried their best to get out of the way - with more or less success.

Not the fastest vehicle, Toothgrappler starts to lack behind a bit and should be overtaken by the others soon, but he definitly has fun so far.

For more orky fun check out my new game on these forums! https://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/812653.page

The other racers blew off the line leaving Fungis and his new racing crew sitting revving the engine in a cloud of dust.
"Fasta, Fasta, GO GO GO!" shouted the eager burna sitting shotgun while pounding Fungis on the arm.
Fungis dropped it into gear and the Snazzwagon's tires spun up their own cloud of dust before gaining traction and rocketing the vehicle forwards. "Yeah, dat's da stuff!" shouted the burna boy as their heads were flung back against the headrests.
Grimgob was holding onto the handles of the Mek's Speshul kannon up top with all he had to keep from being tossed off the back.
Unfortunately, they didn't make it far for as soon as the dust cloud ahead of them broke, Fungis had to slam on the brakes behind the other racers. It was a bloody traffic jam. Who were all these gitz milling about on the course? Didn't they know there was a race on?
Fungis banged on the roof to signal Grimgob to make himself useful. Grimgob fired a salvo of shots into the air which had the disappointing effect of making the assembled mob intrigued rather than disbursing.
The burna started mumbling something to himself while rummaging about in the bin of bottles at his feet. He popped back up with a bottle bearing a strange smelling rag out the top, and pulling a striker from his belt, lit the rag while grinning and chuckling to himself like an idiot. He watched it burn for a hot second, then stuck his torso out the window and tossed it across the hood directly into the crowd to the front and left of the vehicle.
Two or three orks burst into flames and Fungis wondered how he managed to end up with the most deranged ork on Armageddon in his ride. However, this finally had the desired effect, as Grimgob was pounding back on the roof hollering about how there was a pathway now opening up ahead just a little to the left.

Nice one GG.

I’m not ignoring you I was just trying to write up the next bit. But nothing yet.

D20 Roll for this next round is 15 - Drag race! Time for some flat out speed!

Smirking squeegeed the blood from the windscreen and clambered back up on top as SkagNet’s wagon weaved through the crowded street. A great dust cloud had risen and more than one unfortunate ork had fallen victim to the combination of the poor visibility and SkagNet’s woeful driving skills.

Something noisy was blazing a bright green beacon of flame ahead of him in the dust and SkagNet instinctively followed it through the melee. When all of a sudden with a great whoosh something burst into flame right beside him. There came yells and the screeching of tyres as a boomdakka snazzwagon pulled out in front of him and tore off through the crowd.

SkagNet followed behind eying the tail gunner warily.

Soon the dust and the angry injured orkish yells fell away behind them and the racers emerged out onto the main strip that once had been a runway of one of Armageddon’s major space ports. The other racers were already pulling away and taring up the road leaving SkagNets lumbering brew wagon in their dust.

He was going to have to really floor-it to keep up with the action.

*******


Fellow racers, I've come up with an idea to try to reignite interest in Da Great Race. What would you think about in addition to the roll concerning the race conditions, each round, the racers pick from one of six general actions and there's a dice roll to see which actions went well, had a neutral/no effect, or were catastrophic, similar to the drink choices in the beginning of the thread? The idea here being that it might be less intimidating to have some basic options rather than having to write something from scratch, and like the drink rolls, even catastrophe isn't necessarily that you're out of the race, but maybe you have to use some of the ol' orky cunning to get back on track. Ideas that theCrowe came up with were:

1 Pedul to da Metul - this calls for some flat out speed.
2 Zog deese gits! - No more mister nice ork. It’s time to start shootin’ (dakkadakkadakka)
3 Hold onta yer Gak! - Driving skills on display as you weave and swerve through the course like a boss.
4 Quick Thinking - it’s unconventional thinking like this gives you the edge. Nobody will see this coming.
5 Ram Ram Ram - sometimes you just gotta throw your weight around.
6 4 Check dis out- you see an opportunity for an insane stunt bonus.

So, whaddya think?

So by the looks of it we’ve hit a wide open strip, no obstacles around just a nice big stretch of open road ahead. SkagNet has elected to floor it, option number one, Pedal to da Metul.

So when I come to do the rolls for bonus/catastrophe if I roll a 1 that will affect Skagnet for better or worse along with anyone else who picked option one.

I’ll do it like last time with the drinks, 2 rolls for bonus and 1 for catastrophe.

Thanks Gulgog for another kick in the rear.

Fungis is going for Pedal to da Metul too, gotta find out what dis baby can do!

Zogall's feelin' rammy.

Busta keeps on going, hitting the red button for thrustas and gunning down the straight away. If anything gets remotely close he will ram ram ram!

I'll take quick thinking and a Moonshiner

Edit: just realized I already had Moonshiner and want to drink me through the menue. So Bloodweiser it is then

Sorry for the long wait guys. I’ve been too preoccupied building skeletons.

Let’s go for this round. Here’s the roll.

So the bonus high fives go to ram ram ram and insane stunt bonus. Looks like Zogall and Busta are the lucky ones there.

Meanwhile, anyone just flooring the accelerator is in for a nasty surprise. That’ll be SkagNet, Fungis and Busta (again). Bit of a mixed bag for Busta but I’m sure Deks can get creative on that front. Happy writing folks, I look forward to the race developments.

@Pyroalchi: sorry if I didn't make it clear, but the new choices replace the drink rolls. Since we're onto the racing part, stopping for drinks might be a little challenging. Well, except for you perhaps, I would hope that a proppa weirdboy could manifest a mug of ale at will.

Don’t worry GgTt I got the drinks onboard for this round.

Lol, I forgot that one of us was piloting a brew wagon. Maybe if Skagnet gets out in front he could pull over and hand out mugs like cups of water at a marathon. Now that’d be some quick thinking!

As the hurl of ragtag vehicles and moving contraptions that barely qualify for being called that way speed on, Shinyhat does his best to hang on to them. Hugged deep behind the gooseneck handlebars of the trike he was using, it was kind of hard to tell what was in front, forcing him to addept a more... intuitive driving style. The vast organ like collection of pipes and exhausts roared in a deafening volume, at least half of them not even having anything to do with the engine and just spewing out colorful smoke and sparks.

Neither able to see where he was going exactly nor having the juice behind him to just pull ahead of everything he decides to just aim for where he feels the most WHAAAAAG! building up and get right in the thick of it. There must be fun in channeling the energy of dozens fighting, screaming, dying and celebrating orks while going at neckbreaking speeds! Meanwhile he tries to concentrate on his "zippiness", channeling the strange energies of "da tellyporta", pointing his shiny walking cane at every bike or buggy he sees and hoping to cause some funny havoc with it.

"Time ta see what dis baby can do," Fungis shouted, giving a toothless grin to the burna boy at his side and stomping on the accelerator. The snazzwagon had far more get up and go than even he had anticipated. The engine obliged with a monstrous roar and the whole front end of the buggy popped up under the torque. They lurched forward on two wheels and once again Grimgob was left hanging on for dear life. As the buggy came down, it high-sided neatly on a rock leaving the wheels spinning uselessly in the air. Exasperated, all three orks hopped out to see what could be done.


Zogall meanwhile was goading Gnasha to get as much speed out of him as he could and spotted a bit of unfortunate prey up ahead. Three orks were milling about a vehicle that appeared to be stalled out somehow. Clapping the reigns once more and shouting a promise of a nice big tasty squig to Gnasha, he headed straight for them.

All three orks heard the thundering rhythm of the great squig's feet and scrambled to get out of the way. Only Grimgob had his wits about him enough to draw his slugga and lick off a couple shots as the chariot bore down upon them. One glanced off of Gnasha's seemingly impenetrable hide and the others lodged themselves harmlessly in the thick wooden panels of the chariot. Gnasha smashed the offending ork in the chestplate with his great head, sending Grimgob tumbling head over heels. Zogall deftly swerved the chariot around such that a spinning spike on one of the wheels caught the front right tire of the disabled buggy and shredded it in passing. "Looks like you gitz is out of da race!" he shouted as he sped off into the distance.


"Nooooo!" wailed an exasperated Fungis surveying the damage.
"'s allright" said Grimgob, dusting himself off, "I's been standin' on a spare dis whole time."
Sure enough, there was a spare tire on the back of the buggy, and with the whole vehicle up in the air, it was short work getting it changed out.
"I owes Rokka a pint; dat cleva ol' weirdboy thought of everything. How's we gonna get it off dis rock tho?" mused Fungis aloud.
"Like dis," mumbled the burna by his side, and before Fungis could even give him a reproachful look, he had pulled the pin from a stick bomm and tossed it under the rear. "Betta duck," he said as he turned, sprinted the other direction, and hit the deck.
The other two orks barely had time to follow suit before the explosion. The buggy was tossed up into the air and landed upside-down on its roll cage.
Fungis was of a mind to pummel that git senseless, but the undercarriage didn't look too much the worse for wear, and just maybe now they could get back on track.
All three orks gave it the ol' heave ho and the buggy was rolled back upright.
They clambered back aboard, and Fungis fired up the engine; everything seemed to be in working order still.
"A little less frottle dis time, maybe" he thought, easing back onto the raceway.

“Hey Boss… oi, Boss!”

“What izzit! I’m tryin’ to drive ‘ere!”
SkagNet swerved around a pothole and the delivery waggon rattled like it’s bones were tired.

“We still doing two fer da price o’ one on Bloodweiser?”

“You wot?”

“Only we gots a customer and we iz all outa Rokkit Fuel.”

SkagNet shifted in his seat to glance over his shoulder with his one good eye. Sure enough there was that oddboy, balanced on the tailgate, receiving two bottles from the bar-grot.

SkagNet shrugged, “If you got grog to sell an’ he’s payin’…”

The landing strip had given way to a long dusty salt flat. It was a dry flood plane that they used to call the Boar’s Boast. Only now it was a sprawling speed freak shanty full of spanna shakks and dragsta tinkerers. It had been ages since anyone had ridden an honest-to-Gork real boar the length of the boast. SkagNet spat out the window. “Bah! Da whole planet’s gone ta gak!”

Ahead of him a buggy emerged vertically from a dust cloud like a Phoenix from a bin fire. Typical snazzy noo racers, he thought, always more grunt than grip, more power than a giant squigoth but twice as stupid. The buggy came down with a crunch. SkagNet tutted and shook his head sadly like a miserable old git as the old reliable brew-wagon trundled on by.

It looked like Zogall couldn’t resist getting a cheap dig in and was driving his chariot slantwise heading for the sorry scene, old Shinyhat too appeared to be in no great hurry, merrily zzzapping all around to his weird heart’s content. SkagNet suddenly realised the road ahead of him was clear. He had left all the other racers in his dust!

“Haha! He guffawed, slapping the side of the old brew-waggon. “Da old ways is da best!” He declared, entirely ignorant of the age and heritage of the Squig chariot in his rear view mirror. Now was his chance, he’d show these upstart Yoofs how canny old master does it. Hanging left he made for a building he’d been looking for. It was bar he used to deliver to back in the day, but it’d gone down hill in recent years, full of Storm Boys it was, a real try-hard goof-joint.

“Bah!” SkagNet spat.

That road, he knew, headed down toward the old Goff barracks, and with the real bulk of the Goff clan moved off to the front lines with Ghaz ages since, he knew these streets would be relatively clear.

“Good finkin’ iz wot dat iz.” He told himself, “Dat’s Usin’ de old noggin, Skaggerz-me-lad.”

What was more, his 40 years of back-street deliveries would give him the edge, Da know-wots to navigate his way…

The brew wagon coughed.

“Oi!”

The engine spluttered and lost power.

SkagNet pumped the gas, yanked on the choke, cursed the old klap-trap for a grot-built wreck, but to no avail.

“Smirking!” He bellowed to the grot in the rear, “wosswrong wiv da wagon?”

“s’outa fuel, innit boss.”

“Well, fillit up, willya!” SkagNet looked anxiously over his shoulder as Busta’s trakk came thundering past. He didn’t give the old BloodAxe even a nod of recognition, perhaps a brew wagon parked up outside a pub didn’t scream ‘Race Leader!’

“Use da Rokkit Fuel!” Begged the old BloodAxe.

“We sold it all, din’t we.” Smirking appeared with a useless bottle of Bloodweiser in each hand. “Dis is all we gots.”

There was tremendous boom in the distance from the exhaust of Fungis’ buggy. The throaty roar of his ever-approaching engine was beginning to fill up the air. SkagNet pulled off his old Kommando beanie and wrung it in his fists. The mirthless laughter of the Stormboys in the yard was really getting on his nerves too. They japed and jibed like morons as they all hung up their booster packs in a nice orderly row and went stomping around in a line preparing to match on into the bar right proppa stormboy fashun.

“Maybe dey got some fuel, boss.” Smirking offered sheepishly preparing to duck.

SkagNet sneered “Paffetic…”

SkagNet needed to get out and think. He flung the door open but before he could step out of the wagon Gnasha came thundering by and ripped the door right off its hinges. There was a brief but terrifying flurry of violence as Zogall on one side and Fungis on the other both tore through the scene. Amidst the chaos of flying dust and sluggs something landed in SkagNets lap.

He picked it up and inspected it carefully.

“It’s a stikkbomb boss.”

“I can Zoggin’ well see dat!”

“Still got the pin in, it duz.”

Funny thing people forget about stikkbombz is they’re pretty handy in a tight space as a small club. SkagNet demonstrated this fact to Smirking with ample clarity before any more obvious observations could be made.

Pulling on his Kommando beanie the old
BloodAxe hopped out and squinted through the dust as the competition swerved away out of view. He wanted to slam his wagon door but since it was no longer attached he just hocked up a great gob and spat hard.

“Give’us dat crate.” He commanded. The bottles were duly handed over vibrating in time with the quivering grot.

SkagNet pulled one of the bottles of Bloodweiser out of the crate and expertly cracked the top off using the side of his waggon. He was about to quench a dusty thirst when Toofgrappler Shinyhat burst in, quite unaccountably from out of nowhere, grabbed the opened bottle and vanished just as quick in miasma of exhaust fumes.

There was an explosion of laughter from the Stormboys in the yard. SkagNet didn’t have to look up to know they were laughing at him.

Oh his blood was up now.

He tossed the stickbomb in among the bottles stick pointing up, and felt through the bottom of the crate with his thumb to find the ring. With a big smile he turned to the laughing Stormboys and began his approach, all the while checking the gear in his belt with a practiced free hand.

“You lads want some free booze?” He shouted putting on his best Goff drawl.

“Bloodweiser izzit?” Asked an eagle eyed sergeant. “Give it ere den.”

SkagNet smiled and stepped past backing into the door way where he stopped with the crate in hand.

“You take dis one in.” He suggested, “I got plenty more in da wagon.”

The eager sergeant took up the crate and marched on inside in triumph. SkagNet held the door inviting the rest of the squad to follow the leader. True to form the young gofflings lined up in orderly fashun and followed orders to the letter. SkagNet tossed something to the last ork in line as the door close behind him. By the time the young fool realised it was a stikkbomb pin it was already too late.

The blast blew out the windows and the whole bar erupted in one angry cry of outrage, but SkagNet wasn’t for waiting around to settle any scores. He was already strapping on a boosta pack.

“I wouldn’t ‘ang about, Smirking.” SkagNet advised, pump-priming the Rokkit boosta. “Anyways, I gots a race to win. See ya back at da Grox.”

He bent his knees and slapped the button, leaping into the air on a column of fire and smoke. SkagNet was back in da race!

A rokkit pak? Dat's eiver cheatin' or some proppa orky brutal cunning. Not sure exactly which.

Sounds like maybe it's time for another decision point and a roll of the dice? Reminder of the choices:
1 Pedul to da Metul - this calls for some flat out speed.
2 Zog deese gits! - No more mister nice ork. It’s time to start shootin’ (dakkadakkadakka)
3 Hold onta yer Gak! - Driving skills on display as you weave and swerve through the course like a boss.
4 Quick Thinking - it’s unconventional thinking like this gives you the edge. Nobody will see this coming.
5 Ram Ram Ram - sometimes you just gotta throw your weight around.
6 4 Check dis out- you see an opportunity for an insane stunt bonus.

If so, Fungis is feeling back in control and will tell his ladz (3.) Hold onta yer gak!
Zogall is still feeling rammy (5.)

Toofgrappler Shinyhat had some mighty big fun tellyporting everything around that wasn't fast enough to escape - including of course himself, with most of his victims appearing randomly on the racetrack and only some getting lost the-warp-know-where. In between jumps he happened to appear near SkagNet, nicking a Bloodweise from him with a shiny grin, before being swept away on a wave of green energy through the warp again. When he reappeared, a little purplish worm with feathers and glowing antlers was swimming and wriggling in the bottle, but Toothgrappler didn't mind and emptied it anyway...

"Now... were wuz we? O'right, Wez waz aboot ta zee how fast dis ting goes!" he exclaims to himself "Splendid ol' chap. Lets see if wez squeez a sonic boom outta it!" with that he pushes the pedal to the medal, fuelling all the WAAAGH energy he can into the groaning and suffering engine for one, short burst of speed, blizzfully ignorant of all potential consequences that might have.

SkagNet will be opting for the old
Numba too! Zog Deez Gitz! No more mista nice ork. Time to stark krunkin’ heads!

Aaaaand here’s the roll!



So that’s Old Skaggerz going down in flames while Fungis busts da mooves like a pro driver!

Shame nobody picked insane stunt bonus but there you go.

And just for randomness I’ve rolled on the old D20 events table and landed on

6 Sacred grox - a massive ancient Bull-Grox bedecked in sacred painted glyphs and holy gubbinz is sitting slap bang in the middle of the road.


Sounds like the craic.

One down, three to go thought Zogall as Fungis and his hapless crew disappeared out of sight behind him. The weirdboy was zapping in and out of reality too quickly to get a bead on. Either he was a threat or he wasn't, but he wouldn't stay put long enough to make it worth chasing him down. The other two on the other hand were feeling like easy prey, he just had to catch them. Zogall's ingrained hunting instincts kicked in and he started following a pair of fresh trukk tracks that turned left towards a settlement. Midway to the town, (much to his dismay) somehow Fungis had managed to fix his buggy and blew past Zogall, while an ork in Evil Sunz colors hung out the passenger window, making obscene gestures and shouting incoherent insults.

Zogall vowed the next time he saw those gitz he'd do far more than just pop their tires as he lashed the reigns across Gnasher's flank and hunkered down into the chariot.

********
Freshly tamped down into the dust and heading off to Fungis's left was a pair of what looked like trukk tracks and the unmistakeable footprints of a squigosaur trailing a narrow-wheeled chariot. He knew it was better to be kunnin' and find a way to cut them off rather than follow them, but the seemingly endless expanse of this salt flat was awful disorienting and it wasn't like they had mapped out the course beforehand or anything. Furthermore, amidst some obvious Goff buildings up ahead were the unmistakeable signs of mekshops and race shanties. Maybe in town he could somehow give this burna sitting shotgun the slip and replace him with a real Speed Freek who knew his way around.

As they barreled full speed across the flats, they even caught up to Zogall and blew right past him, so fast that Grimgob didn't even have time to lick off a shot. The burna on the other hand, was gesticulating wildly and shouting at the giant beast snagga nob which normally would have provided much vindication but knowing Zogall, Fungis feared this was not a particularly wise thing to do.

Pulling his head back inside, it was the burna boy that interrupted Fungis's thoughts, "Oi, boss, you'ze about outta fuel".

Fungis checked his gauges; of course he was. Why would a mek spend any teeef filling up a vehicle he was just going to sell anyway? Cursing Rokka's name he pulled into the first mekshop he could find.
Before he could even come to a complete stop, the burna had hopped out the window, and was yelling at the grot krew of the shop. In response, three very well-trained grots hoisted a gas can up to the buggy while a fourth dropped a funnel into the opening of the tank and the burna tipped the can further than the weedy grots could to speed up the process. He even reached into his jacket and pulled out a satchel (presumably full of teef) which he tossed into the lap of the mek proprietor who was fast asleep in a chair in the corner.

As the burna jumped back through the window, Fungis stared in amazement; perhaps this git was worth his squigs after all.

"Oi, you know your way around dis track?" asked Fungis.

"'Course I do, I'z a Sun, ain't I? Now Go!" he shouted. Clearly this wasn't his first race. "What're you waitin' for? GO, GO, GO!"

Fungis had gotten the feel of the dragsta by now and just to prove it, he did a little burnout, earning whistles of appreciation from the gretchin crew who had nicked the satchel off their sleeping master and were counting and arguing over the teef within.

"'Ang a left up 'ere," said the burna.

Fungis obliged and they pulled out onto a side street that paralleled the main road through town. Indeed, this burna was again proving his worth as this route seemed relatively clear, but whenever Fungis caught a glimpse through the buildings of the main road, it was covered in wreckage from races and battles past. Not only that, but up ahead was Skagnet's brew wagon, pulled off to the side in fornt of a bar. Either the old git thought he was far enough ahead that he could actually make some teef doing deliveries and still win, or something had gone wrong and he had stalled out. Either way, Fungis was going to blow right past him too.
The burna had other plans though. He too recognized the brew wagon and was rummaging around in his box for another stikk bomm. Fungis saw what he was up to and shook his head in reproach.

"'What?" asked the confused Burna Boy.

"'E's my biggest customer!"

"Yeah, but this'll take 'im outta da race permanent-like."

The point was moot, because just then the kannon above their heads roared to life. Zogall had tracked them down and was firing his oversized slugga, punching holes in the armor plates of the buggy. Grimgob was eagerly spitting a response from the Mek's speshul, the constant dakka dakka dakka indicating that he had no intention of letting up on the trigger regardless of whether his shots were hitting their target or not. Spent shells were piling up in the back of the buggy behind Fungis's seat.

Zogall swerved to the driver's side of Skagnet's brew wagon, and Fungis swerved to fly by the opposite side. The firing from both parties continued unabated.

Despite Fungis's attempt at reproach, the burna stuck his whole body out the window and tossed the stikk bomm into the brew wagon but Fungis could swear that in the heat of the moment that idiot forgot to pull the pin.
Fungis pulled out past the brew wagon ahead of Zogall, but a giant slug whistled through the open back of his buggy, nicked his left ear in passing, and blasted its way through the front plate of the windshield. It made Fungis jump just enough in his seat to lose control for a split second and he plowed through a pile of tires and slammed into the burnt out hulk of an Imperial tank that some mek had dragged in front of his shop but hadn't scrapped yet. For the second time this race, Zogall zoomed on by.

"BAH!" spat Fungis, throwing the buggy into reverse. The engine responded but the front of the buggy was covered in tires and they were all tangled up in the tank wreckage. They lost precious minutes prying the twisted metal back from around the front bumper. The sound of a stikk bomm detonating from where they had just come caused Fungis to throw a glance over his shoulder. The timing didn't line up with his reckoning of when the burna had tossed it, and Skagnet's brew wagon was still back there (albeit missing the driver's side door). Fungis shrugged and got back down to business.

Back on track, the burna indicated a short-cut down a narrow alley up ahead. Fungis executed a lively drifting turn and shot like a rocket into the gap between the buildings. Consequences be damned, he floored it. Peering through the vision slit it suddenly became obvious there was some kind of obstruction up ahead.

Grimgob pounded on the roof.

"OI, boss..." started the burna.

"Yeah, I see it."

The obstruction was a massive ancient Bull-Grox bedecked in sacred painted glyphs and holy gubbinz sitting slap bang in the middle of the road. Kneeling beside it in the dust with one hand on its side was Zogall, muttering utterances in hopes of a proppa hunt in the season to come. There was no way around it. Fungis was of a mind to run right over Zogall, but doing so might do more harm to the buggy than the oversized ork, and besides, that would only provide enough clearance for a bike or maybe a trike. The buggy would still get wedged between that stupid grox and the nearest shanty. Just then the grox did a bit of a pirouette, turning its backside to the onrushing buggy and settling down for a rest.

Fungis had already stopped far too many times this race and wasn't about to again. He had a plan. Not a good plan, but there was a chance. The haunches of the grox were about the same width as the buggy's tires, and strapped to its back was the remains of a howdah. Those drunken Snakebites would ride anything into war thought Fungis. At the same time, if the grox would remain sitting up just long enough, the ramshackle boards strapped to the great beast might provide a sort of a ramp.

Grimgob let off a salvo at Zogall sending him running down a side alley back to Gnasha and his chariot.

"Hold onta yer Gak!" shouted Fungis. The accelerator was already all the way down but he pushed even harder just in case.

"You'ze mad" chuckled the burna in approval and grabbed the roll cage out of well-worn habit.

The tires hit the rear end of the surprised Grox hard and gained just enough traction on its battle worn hide to propel them onto the rickety boards. The grox jumped back up, adding even more propulsion as the buggy launched high into the air. The Grunt Fume track on the soundblasta crescendoed as the orks sailed out of town shouting with excitement. After what felt like an eternity in freefall, the buggy's tires touched down and the three orks rocketed forward on their merry way.

"Well, now we's ahead of Zogall, we's ahead of ol' Skagnet, unless of course 'e sprouted wings er somefing" smiled Fungis, "and all we's got to worry about is dat lousy Busta and that weirdboy. We'll be back across da finish line in no time, and by Gork, we's gonna win dis!"

Fantastic fun!