But, whatever da reason, his heart or his bootz, he stood 'dere on Christmas Eve, hatin' dem foolz. Staring down from his Ork Hold wit' a sour Orky frown, at dem warmly lit torches below in 'deir town. For he knew every Grot down in Grot-ville beneath, was busy now, hanging a red-painted wreath.
"And 'deir hangin' dem stockingz!" He snarled through his tusks, "Tomorrow is Christmas! It's makin' me fuss!" Den he growled, with his Ork fingers nervously drummin', "I MUST find some way to stop Christmas from comin'!"
For tomorrow, he knew, all da Grot gitz n' boyz, would wake brigh