The Ork had crushed two Emu's on the landing with his weight, laughing as he spit out his cigar. The pecks would have torn up a humie to shreds, but this was no pathetic humie. DIS WAZ BRUTAGAR FACESTOMPAH. DA BESTEST ORK AROUND. HE RECIEVED WORSE BITES FROM A FACEATER SQUIG THAN FROM THESE WEAKLINGS. Immediately he started to punch and kick them in the throats and bodies, crushing windpipes and breaking ribs with ease. The pecks admittedly did not do much to the Ork's armor that was sewn into the jacket, and any that tried getting near his face immediately got their skulls crunched in his maw. He got up, batting away another emu. Reaching inside his coat he pulled out a large stick with a club like head and a circle at the bottom. He pulled the circle off and tossed it into the swarm, it releasing shrapnel everywhere, tearing through more.