Editing Angry Marines (section)

===How To Work a Motherfucking Titan===

It took ten minutes for the Angry Marines to get ready. This involved Twatsplasher's men clambering into the gun positions with much swearing and grunting, then eating the brains of the dead crew they were replacing so they knew how to cover their positions, and reverentially chucking the bodies out of exhaust chutes. A number of lesser crew, human and servitor, remained alive, manning secondary systems. None of them were happy with recent events but followed orders to sit in their chairs and press some fucking buttons or something. 

The Angry Marines then did something that would surprise most people: they said a prayer to recognise the Titan crew's heroism. Unfortunately Angry Marine prayers cannot be printed here as they make people go blind. Twatsplasher might be an outright wanker but he was the most pious man in the galaxy and his like may never be seen again (hopefully). “YOU GROT-FONDLING DIPSHITS CAN'T HANDLE THIS LEVEL OF FUCKING PIETY!” the Captain had roared a few years ago as he chased the Chaplains around, whacking them over the head with his self-made prayer book, entitled "KILL ALL XENOS FOR THE EMPRAH". 

There was some debate about who should replace Princeps Abnettius. Only Terridyne had sockets for direct neural interface.

“SIR, I'M THE FUCKING TECHMARINE,” he voxed. “I'M THE ONLY ONE CAN COMMAND THE BASTARD THING!”

“WHICH TWAT MADE YOU THE NEW PRIMARCH? MAN THE LAUNCHER YOU WHINGING TOSSER, I CAN HANDLE THIS CRAP!”

“WITH ALL FUCKING RESPECT, THAT'S BOLLOCKS, MY LORD! HOW ARE YOU GONNA GET THIS PIECE OF SHIT MOVING WHEN YOU CAN'T EVEN PLUG YOUR ARSE INTO IT FOR FUCK'S SAKE? YOU NEED MORE THAN A FRIGGING JOYSTICK AND SHITTY BREATH TO COMMAND A FUCKING TITAN!!”

“I KNOW WHAT I'M FUCKING DOING YOU BRONIE WANKER!!!!” roared the Captain with superior rage. “YOUR PROTESTS ARE SNOT SHOVELLED INTO MY FUCKING EARS SO SHUT YOUR GROT-LICKING GOB BEFORE I COME OVER THERE AND INTERFACE MY DICK WITH YOUR EYE-SOCKETS!!!!!!!!!!!!!1!11one”

The Titan's human crew were shocked to hear this exchange. They weren't on the Angry Marine vox-net, they could literally hear the Marines yelling at each each other through hundreds of tons of ceramite. The humans had no idea that the Angry Marines 3rd Company “enjoyed” a brotherhood forged in fire, or that Twatsplasher encouraged “debate” as a middle finger to that Codex Astartes bullshit.

The Captain might not have had neural implants but he did have something: mastery of his absolute fucking RAGE. His emotional control was so good he only spent 97% of the time in a state of frenzy, although if anyone made the mistake of raising this delicate matter, he broke their spines and made them eat their own bollocks, not always in that order. The Captain summoned all the rage his genhanced body could handle, then he summoned some more, and he roared with righteous fury as the rage moulded into a mental spear jabbed straight into the Titan's heart. The god-machine was too terrified to deny such a man and bent instantly to his will.

“THERE'S YOUR ANSWER, BITCH!” Twatsplasher said. “I WASN'T MADE CAPTAIN FOR SUCKING THE FUCKING CHAPTER MASTER!!!!”

The Titan jerked forward then stumbled, and fell sideways, landing on some buildings and knocking them down. Its Angry Marine crew cried out in rage and confusion.

“FEELS LIKE A FUCKING HIPPO'S SITTING ON MY DAMN FACE!” Hammerhead raged. His weapon, the power fist, was the only thing preventing the Titan from completely capsizing.

“TRY NOT TO FUCKING FACEPLANT THE EPIC GOD-MACHINE YOU BLOODY ORK!” said Terridyne. “FRIGGING TOLD YOU I SHOULD BE DRIVING!”

“FUCKING KNOBSACKS!!!” roared the Captain. “THIS IS HARDER THAN MY ADAMANTIUM COCK!”

He concentrated on his rage, held onto it, made it flow, and the Titan clambered back to its feet. It swung around, instinctively knowing which way to go, which was pretty fucking excellent since the Angry Marines didn't. It stomped forwards with a swaying gait as if it had shat its pants. Over the internal vox Twatsplasher addressed his men:

“STAY AWAKE YOU USELESS CUNTS, WE'RE ABOUT TO ENGAGE THE FUCKING FOE! TERRIDYNE, IF THAT MISSILE LAUNCHER ISN'T LOADED BY THE TIME WE SEE PURPLE, THERE WON'T BE A TAPE MEASURE WIDE ENOUGH TO MEASURE YOUR FUCKING RING! 

“WOGAN, GET THAT FANNY-FACED WRECKING BALL YOU CALL A HEAD OUT OF TERRIDYNE'S ARSE AND WARM THAT LASER BURNER OR I'LL USE IT TO CUT YOUR BLOODY KNOB OFF! 

“HAMMERHEAD, UNTIL WE GET TOE-TO-TOE YOU'RE GOING TO BE AS FUCKING WORTHLESS AS EVER. I WANT THAT POWER FIST READY TO RIP AND TEAR OR I'LL SLAP YOUR MISERABLE FEATURES ROUND THE BACK OF THAT CORN-STUDDED TURD ON TOP OF YOUR NECK! 

“DAMMIEL, IF THAT ASSAULT CANNON STOPS FIRING FOR ONE MICROSECOND I'LL DIP YOU IN SHIT AND FIRE YOU FROM THE FRIGGING MISSILE LAUNCHER!!! 

“RAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!”  

This might have been the worst pep-talk in history but these weren't mere faggots, they were the fucking ANGRY MARINES, the biggest and meanest bastards in the Emperor's realm.

“ALWAYS ANGRY!” Twatsplasher yelled.

“ALL THE TIME!” replied the men.

The cry was echoed by the remnants of 3rd Company milling around behind them. Twatsplasher couldn't be arsed to learn how the vox worked, and he was broadcasting everything from external speakers. The Titan, whose name they didn't even know (or care about, to be honest), stumbled into the smoke, trailing a wake of yellow-armoured psychos. Vengeance had never looked so terrifying.