"You see, kid, A friend of mine's got this place, it's a grill, and one of his employees are out sick. The smell probably got to 'em."
"What? But I can't--"
"b-b-but... I don't care."
A while passes and you're at the grill.
"I'll warn ya, kid, Orcs don’t think much of humans, let alone pathetic busboys.
So now you're stuck here working as a bus boy to orcs, which you didn't even know existed until just a few minutes ago. You stand behind the bar, washing off the dishes, watching the patrons. It was slim picking, but across the way, a group of Orcs are loudly eating and laughing. You had seen each one of them down an entire fiesta plate of loaded nachos. Thank god you're not a waiter.
“He, new boy!” A big orc yells yells. “Go get the green backs from the green skins over there.”
“What?” Your not a waiter, that’s not your job. “Why do i have to do it? I haven't even been told the rules yet!”
“It’s the funniest things. I haven’t seen our waiter since I told him to kick that Ogre out. Maybe he'll turn up, but right now, I need you to get your butt over there and get that money.”
You regrettably do as your told.
As you approach the table, you can hear the orcs.
“— Pianist… I thought you said Pee on shit!” The group busts out laughing, slamming their giant fists on the table, rattling the flatwere.
“Dammit, Murk! Fucking great!” one chimes.
“Umm excuse me but, I'm here.. for the… “ Before you can get the word "bill" out, each of the giant orcs look down at you with a discriminating look on their faces. Murk looks down at you. He is very muscular, in tip top orc shape. He is bald and, like all the others, is only wearing a loincloth. He looks like he could bite your head off in one gulp. “ … bill.”
“Bill? Ah.. yeah.. the Bill. Alright boys. Toss in your cash.” The orcs all dig in their pockets, throwing out greasy and stained 20’s on the table. It doesn't look like enough, but your not going to call them on it. You quickly take it and start to walk back.
“Wait right there!” He bellows out and you stop. “I forgot to give you your tip.”
Tip? You've never gotten a tip before. You could stay for a tip.
You turn around and wait. Murk waves his hand, asking you to come close. You take a step forward. “Closer boy. I cant give you your tip all the way over there.” You close in, till your literally inches away from the massive orc.
He leans away from you, digging in deep to his pockets. You divert your eyes, not wanting to look at his gigantic muscle ass. In your moment of distraction however, the thought suddenly comes to you
Loincloths don't have pockets. Just as you finish thinking that, you feel his big, strong hand grab the back of your head and pull you in, underneath his massive buttcheek, and your nose directly under his crack. Pinned, you're helpless.
He looks down at you. “Your tip is: If your head is ass level to an orc, don’t stick around.”
Murk grunted and shifted his weight. You felt the hot rumbling blast of a rancid fart wash over you. You squirm and try to get out, but the Orc is just too strong to break free. You can hear them laugh and cheer on their friend.
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