Editing Angry Marines (section)

== They called me a Cunt I'll Fuck Their Shit Up == 

''Extracted from the testimony of Inquisitor Seros''

''Extract #420/69, as follows...''


During the 38th Millennium, a young scribe was tasked by the Adminstratum to launch a complete inventorial investigation into an Adeptus Astartes chapter listed as the ”Angry Marines”. For some reason the Chapter´s quartermasters had not supplied the Administratum on Holy Terra with copies of the Chapter´s procurements and requisitions. As the Mechanicum wasn't obliged to supply reports about deliveries to individual units, the Administratum had no idea of the current state of the chapters inventory, upkeep or even numbers of Astartes. The promising young scribe chosen for this task was named Arturius; he had a flawless record and knew instinctively how to deal with bureaucracy. 



As the chapter had not even supplied the Administratum with a home world, the scribe was sent to the commander of the “Somethingth” company, a marine named Shitkicker. After months of travelling aboard a supply vessel, Arturius could finally get on with his mission. The “Somethingth” company was currently deployed on the world Akdov Prime, and was in the final stages of liberating the planet from rebels and heretics. As the small craft boarded the battle barge “IDONTCAREYOUNAMETHEDAMNTHING”, Arturius braced himself for a meeting with a Chapter about which the elder scribes only talked in hushed whispers. 

But to his surprise, when the airlock doors opened there was no one there to greet him. He wondered if they might have misunderstood the ID signal he sent when he asked for permission to board the immense ship? Slowly he made his way through the corridors of the battle barge, walking intently towards sounds that sounded suspiciously like swearing and punching. The noises increased in strength and clarity as he stopped just in front of a large bulkhead with massive dents in the thick metal. He took a deep breath and pressed the button to open the bulkhead doors and before he knew it, he stood eye to eye with the quartermaster of the ship. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU STARING AT YOU BATHROBE-WEARING SCROTUMGOBBLER?!” Arturius was taken aback by the sheer volume at which the yellow clad Astartes operated. “Oh, ehm well you see Sir, I've been sent by the Adminis...” and before he could even finish his sentence the quartermaster had removed his helmet and planted it a mere inch from the young scribes head. “YOU COME FROM WHERE?! DON'T FUCKING TELL ME THE DICKSNIFFERS FROM THE FUCKING 'LIBARY' SENT YOU?!” he shouted at a deafening level, whilst spraying Arturius with spittle. 

“I'm afraid that I am, oh thou protector of humanity, they've sent me because...”; again he was interrupted. “I COULDN'T GIVE A LUBE-SMELLING JIZZPOT AS TO WHY THOSE TAINTFONDLING NERDS WOULD SEND YOU HERE, I'M NOT SORTING ALL OF THESE BOLTERS OUT JUST SO THEY HAVE SOMETHING TO JERK OFF TO”. Arturius had a feeling he would get nowhere with the quartermaster, who was now so annoyed that a vein throbbed alarmingly on the side of his bald head. With great haste he backed out of the disorganized arsenal and ventured further into the ship, towards the bridge. 

Unlike most of the Imperium's bigger vessels, this battle barge didn't have any markings to indicate as to which direction one would proceed to a certain location. The only thing close to it were lewd drawings and four letter cursewords scribbled on the walls. After almost an hour of guessing as to where the bridge might be, having only depictions of genitalia with jet-engines attached to them to go by, he had finally arrived. Again he heard muffled shouting behind the immense bulkhead, and thought that caution was needed for this possibly violent encounter. Never in his wildest nightmares could he have expected Adeptus Astartes to behave in this manner. With a trembling finger, he pressed the button to open the bulkhead and in an instant the shouting became clear. “I DON'T GIVE TWO LUMPS OF SHIT ABOUT WHAT THE GOVERNOR ASSHAT THINKS, WE'RE THROWING IN ALL OF THE ANGRY GANGS!!!”. “With all due respect my lord, we don't have enough pods for all t..”, “FUCK YOU BUTTPIRATE, THEN WE'LL FUCKING LAND THIS PIECE OF DICKSPIT ON THAT SHITHOLE EXCUSE OF A PLANET!”. 

Captain Shitkicker had not even registered the arrival of the nervous scribe, and with a very unsteady voice he spoke, “Excuse me your excellency, may I have a word?”. The Captain sharply turned his head towards Arturius, and with only three strides he stood face to face to the trembling Administratum emissary. “AND WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT?!” the Captain shouted, not even breaking eye contact for a millisecond. Almost soiling himself, Arturius spoke up; “Revered Captain of the glorious Adeptus Astartes, this humble scribe have ventured forth from the Administratum in order to f...” “YOU'RE FROM THE FUCKING 'LIBARY'?!” the captain roared, and now his eyes flashed with a rage even greater than when Arturius had arrived at the bridge. “THAT FUCKING DOES IT, I'M COMPLETELY BLOODY SICK OF THIS!”. Seemingly from nowhere the furious Captain Shitkicker produced a melta-grenade, pulled the pin out, but kept his hand firmly on the safety latch. Again he took three angry strides towards the Mechanicum Officer that he had verbally abused before, stuck the grenade in his hand and screamed mere millimeters from the face of this Servant of the Omnissiah: “IF YOU EVEN MOVE AN INCH OR SPEW ANYMORE BULLSHIT FROM THAT CUM-ENCRUSTED SPHINCTER YOU CALL A MOUTH, THEN I WILL KICK THIS GRENADE FROM YOUR SHITSMEARED HANDS AND DESTROY THAT FUCKING CONSOLE CONTROLLING THE SHIP!!!”. Even under all the cybernetic modifications you could see the already pale Enginseer going full white, knowing full well that the Captain meant every word. 

“HEY PILOTING ASSWIPES, LAND THIS FUCKING OUTHOUSE ON THAT FUCKING SHITSTAIN!” Captain Shitkicker roared whilst pointing to Akdov Prime. Even from orbit you could see the massive fires in the hive-cities, where the Imperial Loyalists battled against the rebel scum. The servitors looked up and responded with a “Yes my lord” in that neutral voice of theirs. The mighty battle barge´s engines fired up and started to move the immense ship towards the planets surface, the void shields being calibrated on the move to account for the pressure of the atmosphere. The Captain had now retired to a large room adjacent to the bridge, and by the sounds and constant swearing, Arturius knew the mighty Space Marine was looking for something. “AH THERE IT FUCKING IS, THIS IS GOING TO BE MEGA-FUCKING-KICKASS-AWESOMESAUCE” the Captain gleefully exclaimed as he had found an ancient power-weapon of some description. 

Before Arturius could investigate the issue further, the ship was well on its way to the surface with the creaking sound making it abundantly clear that the ship wasn't too happy about the sudden atmospheric pressures and gravity pulling at its massive frame. After some serious piloting from the Servitors, the ship was stable a couple of kilometers above the surface of the battle scarred planet. Without even a single curse, obscenity or threat, Captain Shitkicker ran at full speed down the corridor that young Arturius had arrived from. Having given up on handling the situation as per any protocol he knew of, he ran after the Astartes to the best of his abilities. After almost losing the large Astartes in the corridors of the battle barge, he finally caught up with him, standing in front of a Vox-console trying to plug into the ships loudspeakers. “ALRIGHT YOU DICKBADGERS, WE'RE OFF TO KICK ASS!” the Captain roared into the microphone he held in his right hand, violently gesturing with the other. “REPORT TO THE FUCKING DROPPODS ON THE FUCKING DOUBLE!”, after screaming the last order into the mic, Captain Shitkicker again made off towards the hangars of the mighty ship. Arturius had abandoned all pretense of knowing what to do at this point, thinking that it might be best to report his failings to the Administratum and receive his punishment instead of spending another minute aboard this floating madhouse. He knew he had come from the hangars when he arrived, so again he followed the mad Astartes. After just a minute of intense running he had arrived in the hangars, seeing Captain Shitkicker violently screaming at a group of Sergeants near the drop pods. He tried to make his way to his own craft, but after walking just a few paces he was lifted up by a pair of extremely strong hands, and he heard a voice bellowing behind him; “FUCK YOU NERD, YOU'RE COMING WITH ME ON THE THUNDERHAWK, I NEED A SURFBOARD”. It was one of the Veterans of the chapter, adorned in the yellow and red livery with the strange crest upon their chests. Powerless to protest, Arturius was dragged towards on the Thunderhawks in the hangar, intensely praying for his life. 

Going through the flight checks - which basically consisted of banging on the craft´s instruments and swearing loudly - the pilot started the engines of the mighty Thunderhawk. Arturius was mushed in between two massive Space Marines and was holding on for dear life as the craft suddenly jerked forwards and started speeding up out of the hangar. Within a moment´s notice the mighty Thunderhawk was in a screaming descent towards one the main hives of Akdov Prime, and Arturius feared for his life. The Astartes on the other hand were just laughing manically or/and loudly screaming obscenities at each other, which must have been a bizarre pre-battle ritual of the Chapter. As the craft closed in for a landing, the Astartes suddenly started chanting their battlecry, “ALWAYS ANGRY, ALL THE TIME! ALWAYS ANGRY, ALL THE TIME!” as they rushed out of the landing craft. Not even having time to react, the poor scribe was again picked up by the grumpy Veteran, “LOOK, NOW THE FUCKING FUN STARTS!” he roared into Arturius' ear as he carried him into battle like a sack of doorknobs. He had no idea why the mighty Astartes had picked him up in the first place, and was now properly starting to fear for his life. His purpose became clear after they entered a hastily set up base of operations in what used to be a beautiful plaza. “FIX MY FUCKING POWERBAT YOU SPHINCTER!” someone roared in his already ringing ears, and felt something being dropped in his lap. “I.. I don't know how to repair weaponry such as this!” the young man exclaimed, with the Astartes just staring at him. “USELESS FAGGOTROCIOUS CUNT!” he screamed as he threw the scribe right into a pillar. 



He woke up days later in a hospital, dazed and confused. Next to his bed stood a man in inquisitorial livery. “I see you too have had a run-in with the... Angry Marines” the man said slowly. Without thinking he offered the man a seat next to his bed but the Inquisitor stated “Uh, no thanks. I would rather stand... My name is Seros, Inquisitor Seros. And I understand you have some information about the Angry Marines´ unwillingness to cooperate with Imperial officials. I am currently in dire need of such information.” the man said. Arturius could swear that the Inquisitors´ buttcheeks had tightened when he mentioned the name 'Angry Marines'. “Now, let me write down your testimony, and together we might put an end to the madness that is the 'Angry Marines', these subhuman morons who dare to call themselves Astartes.”.... 



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The Inquisition never forgets''<br>
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