Orks of Kudulug-sark to the marshal Argon
O marshal, Eotheod crook and damned hunchback's kith and kin, secretary to Asslicker himself. What the hell kind of knight are you, that can't slay a hedgehog with your naked arse? The Morgoth excretes, and your army eats. You will not, you son of a bitch, drive out the orks from Morgul fortress. We've no fear of your army, by land and by sea, everytime we battle with thee, go fuck your mother.
You ramtheod scullion, arnor wheelwright, brewer of rohan, goat-fucker of gondor, swineherd of all human swines, for pig yourself you are, you human scum, and fool of all the world and underworld, worm under our feet, an idiot among worms, and the crick in our dick. Pig's snout, mare's arse, slaughterhouse cur, lowest beggar, screw your own squire!
So we, the warriors of Kudulug-sark declare, you lowlife. You won't even be herding our pigs nor hold our fortress. Now we'll conclude, for we don't know the date and don't own a calendar; the moon's in the sky, the year in the book, the day's the same over here as it is over there; for this kiss our arse!
Sark-alef Loqok Skutzosh and Kudulug-sark
O marshal, Eotheod crook and damned hunchback's kith and kin, secretary to Asslicker himself. What the hell kind of knight are you, that can't slay a hedgehog with your naked arse? The Morgoth excretes, and your army eats. You will not, you son of a bitch, drive out the orks from Morgul fortress. We've no fear of your army, by land and by sea, everytime we battle with thee, go fuck your mother.
You ramtheod scullion, arnor wheelwright, brewer of rohan, goat-fucker of gondor, swineherd of all human swines, for pig yourself you are, you human scum, and fool of all the world and underworld, worm under our feet, an idiot among worms, and the crick in our dick. Pig's snout, mare's arse, slaughterhouse cur, lowest beggar, screw your own squire!
So we, the warriors of Kudulug-sark declare, you lowlife. You won't even be herding our pigs nor hold our fortress. Now we'll conclude, for we don't know the date and don't own a calendar; the moon's in the sky, the year in the book, the day's the same over here as it is over there; for this kiss our arse!
Sark-alef Loqok Skutzosh and Kudulug-sark
