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[40K] Marneus Calgar’s Barmy Army: Calgar’s Kidney Stone (part 2)

25/12/2014 in Warhammer 40K

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“Where’s that bloody tech marine?”

Dick had had to enlist three other Ultramarines to help him give a chair-lift to Marneus Calgar. The fat, complaining Chapter Master had point-blank refused to strip out of his armour for the journey. He was paranoid about “That new girl seeing my nipples”.

They’d worked up a fine sweat by the time they reached the transport bay. Unfortunately the bay, which was more of a circular, open-air arena which perpetually stank of promethium, was almost empty. The floor of the bay was streaked with black stains. Above them, the winter sky was a brooding presence.

“He’s uninstalling Firefox from all our computer systems, sir, and loading Opera in their place.”

“Why in the name of Bob Hoskins did I ask him to do that?”

“You need to work harder on those memory tests, sir. The Inquisition declared Firefox to be more bloated than Nurgle’s colon and you were sick of having your computer freeze for five minutes every time you started Firefox up. Said the waiting made your bollocks retract into your hips.”

“Tech-Priest Nerdingham is the laziest, most unmotivated slob in the region,” said Calgar without irony. “The first time he ever does anything I ask him to is the day my kidney goes kamikaze. He was supposed to be working on the Rhinos today!”

“You put the fear of Guilliman into him, my Lord, by threatening him thus: ‘I don’t give a flying feth about the tanks, mate, you either install Opera or spend five minutes in the nerve glove, pain level ‘watching the European intro to Gran Turismo 5.'”

“That’s quite a good impression of me,” Calgar said, not sure whether to be impressed or go into one of his tantrums. “You even pronounced our Primarch’s name correctly. Hardly anybody does that.”

(Unfortunately, dear reader, even I don’t know how to pronounce that name, and I’ve been taking it in vein for more than a decade!)

There was a familiar buzzing crack; not of the lord Calgar’s flatulence for a delightful change, but an incoming lasgun shot.

“Look out, sir!” Dick yelled, almost flipping the Chapter Master out of their grasp as he tumbled the group of Ultramarines sideways.

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[40K] Marneus Calgar’s Barmy Army: Calgar’s Kidney Stone (part 1)

23/12/2014 in Warhammer 40K

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Marneus Calgar’s Barmy Army: Calgar’s Kidney Stone

A Warhammer 40,000 parody by NoPoet

Synopsis: Gasp and vomit your way through this insulting, lavatory-humour farce in which the Lord Calgar, whom my Windows Surface tablet thinks should be called “Marines Calgary”, is menaced by a nasty kidney stone… oh, and an invasion of Nurgle. All Calgar wanted to do was use the toilet…

The Marneus Calgar’s Barmy Army Official Anthem

With special thanks to the track author, Dummy, and OC ReMix

==||==

Calgar’s Kidney Stone

-or-

Calgar’s Discomfitting Kidney Mishap

-or-

Marneus Calgar: A Profane, Blasphemous and Intelligence-Insulting Anecdote of One Man’s Unfortunate Circumstance

==||==

PART ONE – THE MADNESS BEGINS… AGAIN

Welcome to Macragge, home to the most pious Imperial servants: an entire Chapter of devout warrior-monks, heroic noblemen whose lives are constantly on the line so trillions of robe-wearing minions can scribe things that someone else chucks in the bin. Macragge is a rocky and cold world, a place where dwell men of legend… and their glorious leader, Marneus Calgar.

“OW!” roared Lord Calgar from his uncompromising squat on the Crapper of Macragge. “My fething piles are playing up. They’re throbbing like alien brains in a B-movie.”

“Then stop sitting down with a thump, sir!” Dick called from outside the door. “Remember what the apothecary said: don’t provoke the piles!

“I’ll provoke the little bastards when I pop them with a power sword and cauterise them with a hand flamer! Even if it itches like a fething bitch, it will be a blessed relief compared to this! I feel like I stuck my arse in a nerve glove set to ‘exterminatus’. Or maybe ‘exterminanus’.”

“My Lord?”

“It was bawdy lavatory humour, Bannerman. You can feel free to laugh.”

“Oh,” Dick said. “Ha. Ha.”

“Nobody ever gets my jokes,” said Marneus Calgar as the toilet strained beneath his podgy rolls. “You know something, Number Two? These aren’t just piles. They’re rancid visitations. Every time I try to push, I get a stabbing pain in my lower back.”

“You might be wiping too hard, sir,” Dick offered. “We can hear bog roll tearing and shuffling in there for twenty minutes every time you have a crap. It’s bound to play havoc with your ring region.”

“You may be right, Number Two,” Calgar conceded. “Oh, speaking of bog roll, some silly tosser used the last of my Andrex. Fetch us a couple of rolls, will you?”

“Which kind, my Lord?”

“Er… natural pebble, because their marketing executives called it that with a straight face. Fair play to them, their will is clearly stronger than mine. And tell the lads to stop pinching it, I’m supposed to be the only person who comes in here at stopping-off time.”

“You are the only person who goes in there, you big fat bog-roll wasting bell end,” Dick muttered as he headed for the pantry, where Calgar hid his Andrex.

“Oh, and Number Two?” Calgar said.

“You shouldn’t really use that nickname when you’re in there, sir,” Bannerman said, coming back. “I never actually know if it’s me you’re talking to.”

“I do apologise, Dick. I’m only the Chapter Master of the Ultramarines, who am I to address my underlings in the manner of my choosing?”

“What is it, sir?” said Dick, wisely changing tack.

“Can you explain to me the function of Lyman’s ear?”

“Er, no, to be honest. Do you still want that toilet roll? Only, Milo and I are organising a Forza tournament -”

“The Lyman’s Ear, you great blasphemous tit, allows me to hear everything you say within a football field’s radius, even above the constant, squeaking, gaseous emanation of my ablutions. So the next time you accuse me of wasting toilet roll, get ready for the nerve glove, pain level ‘Listening to the theme tune of classic British sitcom Dear John through headphones, on constant repeat, for five hours, without alcohol or other anaesthetic’.”

“Anything but that!” Dick cried. “My apologies, Lord Calgar. I’ll attend to your toilet roll emergency at once.”

TOOT! replied the Lord Calgar’s arsehole. It echoed for some seconds, trapped between a clogged u-bend and Calgar’s fat, spotty backside.

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[40K] Marneus Calgar’s Barmy Army: A Christmas Calgar (2012 Xmas Special)

09/12/2012 in Warhammer 40K

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“Confound this fething thing,” grumbled the Master of Ultramar as he struggled to retain his dignity. “I shall have to get that bodge-jobber of a Tech Priest to look it it. For the wages I am paying him, I should prefer him to be looking at my armchair rather than Necron porn. MILO! Come hence and clean up this mess forthwith.”

It was then the reality of Milo’s death hit him.

“Bollocks, now I must employ another wretch to do the cleaning,” Calgar mused. “Servitors! Fetch me a new Tanith!”

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[40K] Marneus Calgar’s Barmy Army: 2008 Xmas Special

16/08/2012 in Warhammer 40K

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‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the base

Not a xenos was stirring, nor warships in space;

The banners were hung from the halls with care,

In hopes Father Christmas would soon would be there;

The Ultras were nestled all snug in their cells,

To visions of dancing nuns tugging their bells;

Milo in black kecks, while Dick in his cap,

Had just settled down for a read and a crap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

Dick banged his head seeing what was the matter.

Away to the window Brin flew like a flash,

His nostrils and bare chest were speckled with hash.

The moons on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave t’lustre of mid-day to the Smurf base below,

When, what to their upgraded eyes should appear,

But Marneus Calgar, pissed on cheap beer.

“It’s f*****g Christmas, lads! MERRY CHRISTMAS ONE AND ALL! Haaa-up-burrrrrp!”

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[40K] Marneus Calgar’s Barmy 2010 Christmas Special: The Lion, the Witch and the Tanith Feth-Wit

14/12/2010 in Warhammer 40K

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THE LION, THE WITCH AND THE TANITH FETH-WIT

XMAS 2008: Marneus Calgar ruins a perfectly good Christmas poem. The new version of this poem is relentlessly copied, thereby plagiarizing the plagiarism.

XMAS 2009: Geri Halliwell bursts out of Marneus Calgar’s present. Lord Calgar poos his pants in front of the entire Ultramarines Chapter, bringing back memories for English football player and presenter Gary “Big-Eared Walkers Crisps Frontman” Lineker, who recently revealed that he shat himself during an England Match in 1990.

XMAS 2010: The most pointless, Abnett-baiting bullshit yet, which means the story will likely suffer one of two fates: 1) A cease and desist order. 2) A court battle for plagarism and/or defamation. 3) Jervis Johnson will come to my house and batter me.* Notice how subtly I said “two fates” and then gave it three? Ba-dun-TUSH!

*For non-Brits, to batter someone means to assault them, not smother them in congealed fat like some sort of monstrous cod.

* * *
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Marneus Calgar’s Barmy Army: 2009 Christmas Special

24/12/2009 in Warhammer 40K

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“What do you think about that weird Christmas song, ‘A Spaceman Came Travelling’?”
“I think it should be illegal to write Christmas songs while on drugs, sir.”
– Marneus Calgar and Dick Bannerman

*

It is the 41st Millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth, waiting for Gran Turismo 5 to come out. He is the master of mankind by the will of the Prophets (or should that be Profits?), and master of a million worlds by the might of Andy Chambers and Jervis Johnson. I mean, JERVIS, for feth’s sake? That’s not even a real name, it sounds like something from Dungeons and Dragons, no offence.

The Emperor is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from technology invented during NoPoet’s forthcoming 20K series. He is the Carrion Lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day, so that he may never truly die. (2015 edit: Although the latest fluff kind of craps on that last part.)

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Marneus Calgar’s Barmy Army – part 2

20/11/2009 in Warhammer 40K

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(PART TWO)

The Long March where Calgar gets into a sticky situation and Brin Milo complains of carbuncles! (The big joke being that Calgar doesn’t in fact get into a sticky situation. He just gets sneezed on for no reason. And I can’t remember why Milo never complains of carbuncles – I think I just forgot to add it in.)

Originally posted on Imperial Literature 19/12/2001 at 20:42

“There are times when the lights of our glorious civilisation seem destined to go out. To be a man in the forty-first millennium is to endure pain and sacrifice in the hope that one day, in some distant glorious time, our species will be free. Rawlins, I’m not gonna tell you again mate, put that magazine away or it’s the nerve glove. Our beloved Emperor and his favoured son, our Primarch Roboute Guilliman, decreed that the Ultramarines should stand firm in the face of all opposition. We have done so for ten thousand years. I know what you’re doing, son, you’re deliberately angling your watch so the light is reflecting onto my head. I might have white hair but I’m not thick you know.

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Marneus Calgar’s Barmy Army: Part 1

20/11/2009 in Warhammer 40K

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= Ultramarine Chapter History =

The Astonishing War Record of the Ultramarines

30th Millennium – The Ultramarines number at least 500,000 men. God, 500,000 of the sods. Thank the Lord for Horus.

31st Millennium – Horus leads the largest warhost of Chaos ever known in the invasion of Earth. Roboute Gulliman and his entire Legion of Ultramarines are at the other side of the galaxy. Gulliman will later write the book on tactical thinking.

31st Millennium – After the Heresy army is destroyed, Gulliman writes a book of military tactics. There is a huge rush of demand for this book. Many copies were returned when it was discovered Gulliman omitted the “How to avoid pitched battles by travelling to the other end of the Milky Way on a goose chase and staying there til the war is over” chapter. It is considered a wacky coincidence that the Imperium which relies on Gulliman’s book also worships a corpse.

31st Millennium – The Ultramarines are split into numerous Chapters. Try as we might, it’s hard to find something funny to say about this. Roboute Gulliman pegs it in combat. The Ultramarines preserve his body in a sus-an field. Everyone thinks this is a bit weird, as it is like taking a deceased grandparent to the taxidermist.

32nd Millennium – By now the Ultras are charging admission to see their Primarch. Gulliman’s position within the field is altered so that he appears to be rearing up like a ferocious bear. This is very popular with children and less so with purists.

41st Millennium – Marneus Calgar is born.

*=||=*

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