Editing Angry Marines (section)

== A 'difficult' beginning ==

Battle-Brother Alfion of the Angry Marines Chapter was having one fucking shitty day. Because Battle-Brother Alfion had been part of the first batch of Primaris Marines sent - reluctantly - by Lord Commander Roboute Guilliman to the Angry Marines. The contingent had been small. For starters, there had not been many Desert Fangs Neophytes left at the end of the Heresy to be put in stasis by Archmagos Cawl until such time as he had perfected his modification of the Astartes creation process. Then there was the fact that Girly... Guilliman had been unwilling to reinforce a Chapter that so openly embodied what he viewed as the worst aspects of his tempestuous brother, Rachnus Rageus.

Battle-Brother Alfion had at first looked forward to the reunion with those other sons of his gene-father, and to share with them the ideas he had about how to mix their headstrong culture with the precepts of the Codex Astartes, taught to him after his awakening from stasis and modification, to better wield their fury against the ennemies of the Empra... Emperor. He had started to worry when he had learned the name of his distant Bothers' Chapter's name. He had understood as well as any member of the Desert Fangs Legion the need to erase the knowledge of the existence of their Legion, but surely they could have chosen a more dignified name? Then he had heard whispers among the crew of the ship ferrying his contingent to the Angry Marines Battle Barge, the Litany of Litany's Litany. The mortals were ''afraid'', deathly so. So much, in fact, that they were planning on shooting the Primaris Marines at the Battle Barge. '''Literally''' shooting them. From their cannons. Then run away.

Brother-Captain Medina had reassured them, reminding them that righteous fury was one of their greatest strengths and sources of pride, and that devoid of their other pride, the Silencers, their brothers had just given their rage a greater emphasis. The words of Brother-Captain Media, one of the very few experienced Desert Fangs Marines put in stasis at the end of the Heresy, inspired respect and faith among the men serving under him.

And ''then'' came the actual meeting with the Angry Marines. As Brother-Captain Medina approached the nearest red-and-yellow clad Battle-Brothers to hail them, after dusting off the fragments of the hull they had been shot through, he was met by a thunderous yell of "WHO THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU SPINELESS CUNTS SUPPOSED TO BE?!? MORE ULTRASMURFS FAGGOTS?!? IT'S FUCKING BAD ENOUGH GIRLYMAN IS BACK WITHOUT COCK-SUCKING FANBOYS FUCKING AROUND OUR BATTLE BARGE!!"

The contingent was stunned, to say the least, by this lack of respect. "What did you just say?" asked an incredulous Medina. "DO YOU HAVE SHIT IN YOUR EARS AS WELL AS IN YOUR BRAIN?!? I ASKED WHO YOU FUCKING FAGGOTS WERE!!" Medina regained enough of his composure to answer "We are the Primaris reinforcement sent from Mars by Lord Guilliman to strengh..." "SO YOU ARE GIRLYMAN'S COCKSUCKING SPECIAL SNOWFLAKES?!? AND YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO REINFORCE US?!? THAT'S THE BEST FUCKING JOKE SINCE THAT TIME WE PLAYED PUNCH THE CUNT WITH THE SHIT-EATING BLUEBERRIES WEEABOOS!!"

Things had only become worse from then. Alfion could not believe he was once ready to call those assholes brothers. They respected nothing but brute strength and loud yelling, litteraly shat on Guilliman's teachings, and made him and his brothers do all the menial jobs and things they didn't feel like doing. And now Medina was one of them, having snapped after one insult too many and decked the nearest cunt in his fucking face before going on a rampage in the shithole that was the Litany of Litany's Litany. When they came to, the fags had hailed him as Tantrumus Fuckingham, and he had since then stopped responding to "Medina".

Alfion wasn't sure why he hadn't done the same already. Maybe some lingering desire to improve this hellhole of a Chapter, a remnant of his new conditionning on Mars. He would give one last try at showing them how the Codex could be put to good use...

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Alfion tried to open his eyes but couldn't. He tried to shake his head but couldn't. He tried to get up but couldn't. He couldn't move. But somehow he could see. And what he saw was that fucker Mightilypissedoff III glaring at him. "WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE TO ME, YOU SAD EXCUSE FOR A TOASTER?" He paused. "WHY IS MY VOICE BOOMING? WHAT THE SHIT IS HAPPENING?" "THE SILENT ANGRY CUNTS SENT US THIS PILE OF SCREWS AS A GIFT. APPARENTLY, THEY'RE SO WEAK THE MACHINE SPIRIT WAS HAVING FUN KILLING EVERY FAGGOT THEY INTERED IN IT!!" answered Mightilypissedoff.

"INTERED? YOU MANIACS HAVE PUT ME IN A FUCKING DREADNOUGHT BECAUSE I SAID WE COULD USE THE CODEX ASTARTES FOR SOMETHING ELSE THAN WIPE YOUR STINKING ASSES?"

"I'M NOT SOME LAME DREADNOUGHT, FAGGOT, I'M A REDEMPTOR AND I'LL FUCK YOUR SHIT!!" answered a mechanical voice.

"WAIT... YOU PUT ME IN A WALKING COFFIN WHOSE MACHINE SPIRIT IS FUCKING INSANE?!"

"YOU WOULDN'T BE IN THERE IF YOU WEREN'T ALREADY A WEAK PIECE OF SHIT. I'M JUST FLUSHING!!" answered the Machine Spirit.

"YOU FUCKING PIECE OF RUST! I'LL KICK YOU IN YOUR NON-EXISTENT BALLS UNTIL YOU SCREAM FOR MERCY LIKE THE LITTLE BITCH YOU ARE!! I DIDN'T ASK TO BE PUT IN STASIS AND EXPERIMENTED ON BY CRAWLY MCGUFFINFACE!! I DIDN'T ASK TO BE SENT BY FUCKING GIRLYMAN TO YOU ANGSTY CUNTS!! I'LL WRECK ALL OF YOU SHITS ONCE I'M DONE WITH THIS FUCKING PIECE OF GARBAGE!!"

At this, the Redemptor starting hitting itself while violently shaking, as if someone was punching it from the inside. Mightilypissedoff could only make out bits of the yelling coming from inside: "-THINK YOU'RE TOUGH YOU FAGGOT?!? -I'LL SHOW YOU TOUGH YOU FUCKING TOASTER!!" Having had enough of this emo cockslaping contest, the Master of the Armory picked up his wrench and started beating this new Redemptor Belligerent Engine - the first of its kind - into sullen unconsciousness.

Thus started the story of Cunt Pounder, the first Redemptor Belligerent Engine of the Angry Marines.

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The feral world of Allanus was being set upon by a warband of the Black Legion. The locals, brave though they were, could not stand against the heretical Astartes. So when some keen-eyed warrior spotted a red and yellow vessel of the "Sky Angels", hope grew. But nothing happened. No righteous demi-gods descended from the heavens to help them. Until ''something'' fell from the sky in a trail of fire and impacted in the middle of the Chaos Marines. From the crater rose a yellow and red Redemptor Dreadnought of a strange pattern. Looking at their sole opponent, the Legionnaires laughed and opened fire. The dreadnought started shaking before suddenly yelling "ALL RIGHT, WHY ARE YOU PIECES OF SHIT INTERRUPTING ME WHEN I'M BUSY COCKSLAPING THIS FUCKING TOASTER TO DEATH?!?" before punching itself in the 'face'.

Recovering from their surprise at this outsburst, the traitors fired again at the Dreadnought. "THAT DOES IT!! I'LL TEAR YOU FUCKERS A NEW ASSHOLE TO TEACH YOU NOT TO INTERUPT ME WHEN I'M TRYING TO MURDERFUCK THIS CUNTSY BOLTPILE!!" yelled Cunt Pounder before charging the bemused Legionnaires and starting to punch their faces out and crotches in, in between violent blows to its own frame.

Aboard the Litany of Litany's Litany, the Angry Marines were relaxing, downing cold ones and eating skittles while watching Cunt Pounder punch his way though the warband and their pet demons. They stopped and spat out their beers/skittles when they saw him start punching his way though the planet in sheer '''RAGE'''. "- FUCK!! YOU THINK WE SHOULD STOP THIS ASSHOLE?!? - SCREW THAT, I'M NOT GETTING ANYWHERE NEAR HIM AND THAT CRAZY MACHINE OF HIS!!"

So they sat back and resumed drinking while Cunt Pounder punched his way through the mantle of the planet, then its core, then back through as the planet exploded.

"WELP, THAT WAS FUN WHILE IT FUCKING LASTED!! WAIT... WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SHIT?!?" The sight of Cunt Pounder spiraling through the remains of Allanus, still punching itself and shaking with '''RAGE''', exploding the rocks in its way, was enough to make the Angry Marines bring him back on board the Litany of Litany's Litany, where he proceeded to punch them, yelling "NOW IT'S YOUR FUCKING TURN YOU PANSIES!!". Only a repeated application of power bats to its frame managed to put him back to 'sleep'. It was afterwards unanimously agreed to only deploy Cunt Pounder in the direst of emergencies. Or in proximity of Ultrasmurfs, to watch the ensuing hilarity.