ORK GROT DOUBLE-DECKER COMMISSAR

The battle was going badly, and then it got worse: something two grots tall came wobbling over the ridge, screeching in two voices at once. It wore a commissar's hat. It wore a commissar's coat. Under the coat, four legs argued about which direction was forward. The top half waved a saber at the horizon. The bottom half grinned at everyone through the buttons. And the mob - starved for leadership, or maybe just entertainment - stopped shooting, looked up, and did exactly wot the thing told 'em…

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