Badklaw’s truckk barreled across the rough desert, leaving behind it a twin trail of heavy red dust and choking black smoke. The small band of boyz had just liberated a large engine from the shattered hull of a beaky tank, and they meant to put it to good use.
Badklaw grinned as he scraped his large metal fist across the smooth, precision bored, carefully tuned engine block. Supplies were tight, and he’d have to make due with this inferior marine engineering.
“ ‘Ow Long!” Badklaw barked at the driver.
“We’re piss’n fuel werse ‘n a pansse ‘fore a good scrap boss! ‘ares a outpost we can load up on more go juice, but we’ve gota ditch some mass tah make it!” Badklaw took another long look at his new engine, and made his choice.
It only took a few good kicks and several flailing green bodys tumbled into the red and black miasma spewing behind the truckk. Badklaw barked again at the driver
“Ows that!”
the driver turned and raised his stubby green thumb.
Two words. Trukk Stop.
I made a sketch this time.
little fuel nozzle
some of the gubbinz
and, a little mock up / fit test

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