The ork hangar was unusually quiet that evening. Most of the boyz had just returned from a big raid on those stupid humies, and all they wanted to do was to sleep. So it was just the two mekboyz Orrid and Arry there, banging away at the technological monstrosity only mekboyz comprehended.

Orrid in particular was retrofitting the encabulaic voltage reciprocator when he got an idea.

"Oi, Arry," he started, but Arry immediately replied with a sigh.

"Let me guess. It's another one of yer zoggin brilliant ideas."

Orrid was amazed at Arry's foresight, but he didn't let it deter him, "So get this Arry. You know how we get bigga, the more we fight? And da biggest one of us becomes da boss? Well wot if, and this is just an if, we can somehow get taller, without doing any work?"

"Yeh? And how do ya suppose you do that?"

"Like this!"

Orrid straightened his back and did his best to look as tall as possible.

"Wot?"

"You know. Just stand taller."

"You wot? Straighten yer back just ta get a couple inches taller?"

"Yeh."

"Get outta 'ere."

"I'z serious!"

"Have you seen how big da boss is? He's right propa big. Almost as big as a stompa. You ain't gettin anywhere near that with just a couple inches. You'z gonna need a couple more metres. "

With that, Orrid fell into silence and resumed hammering on the mechanical whatever.

"Oi, Arry."

"Yeh?"

"Wot if we stood on stikkz?"

"Stickz?"

"Yeh, and not just one of 'em small stikkz. I'z talking bout those real long ones. Like, one of 'em metre tall ones, you know? Den we'd be right propa tall, yeh?"

Arry imagined the daft git standing on two wobbly sticks and promptly falling over spectacularly.

"You know wot Orrid, you'z a genius"

"Before I became an Alpha Orc, I was lonely and weak. No orcess wanted me. I used to sleep several hours a day, practically chained in my bed. Then I woke up and decided I wasn't happy with my life. I wanted to be a better orc, to be on top of all the other orcs. This started with me standing up straighter. I see so many orcs out there with slumped shoulders. Height is the biggest contributor in status with all the other orcs." The orc guru takes a sip of water. In front of him are thousands of orcs hanging at his every word. These orcs are tired of being called goblins and taking lower-paying jobs. The orc guru continues,

"This is how you become better. This is how you get to the top. Take Cold showers, lift heavier rocks, and talk to Orcessa's." Two fine orc women stand next to the guru's shoulders. With a smirk on the guru's face, the orcs imagined themselves as the guru, wishing they were like him. "If you take my ten-step guide on how to be an Alpha orc, you'll be living your best life. In addition, you're guaranteed a date with the Orcessa of your dreams."

One orc, going by the name, Slakjaw, is bought in. He beats all the others to being first in line to receive his ten-step guide. When he arrived at his hut, he flopped down on the bed, flipping through the pages of the manual. The first step,

1. Don’t slouch.

2. Take a shower.

3. Get a haircut.

4. Make eye contact.

5. Don’t use filler words like um or uh.

6. Get exercise.

7. Get good sleep.

8. Save money.

9. Eat healthily.

10. Buy my next course.

What a load of crap thought Slakjaw. Steps 6 and 7 could have been one chapter. What a fraud! He must think he’s special because he discovered how to stand taller. Newsflash! Everyone can fix their posture! If everyone had great posture, no one would be at the top.

Then an idea, Slakjaw went to his boots and eyed them. He looked at his napkins and stuffed them in the boots, then crammed his feet into them before standing up. Looking in the mirror, it reflects him smirking back at him. Wait till the clan sees this!

Bob was a clever orc. Unfortunately for him, cleverness was not a virtue that Orc's valued in particular. Strength, strength was good, Orcs liked strength, height was great, Orc's loved height, cleverness, wisdom, basic common sense? These were not good, Orcs did not like cleverness, wisdom, or basic common sense. This was not good for Bob. Bob was a short, weak, and very smart Orc. Some of the taller Orc's, the one who had tall strong parents with all the Orc money called him 'nerd'. Apparently that is what they call short, weak, and very smart Orcs in human land. If Bob was being honest, he would rather be a 'nerd' than 'toadstool'. That is what Bob's mother called him when Bob didn't pass the 'height proficiency' each and every year at Orc School. Orcs ate toadstools. And Bob had no particular desire to be eaten. This year, would be different, however. Because tomorrow Bob would not fail the height proficiency test. Bob wouldn't only pass the height proficiency test, he would get the best marks in his class. Maybe he would even be named 'athlete' of the year. Athletes were very tall, at least that was what the Orcs who have been to human land said. Well it didn't really matter, because it was all going to happen. Because Bob was a clever Orc, very very smart. Bob might have been short, and weak, but he was clever, wise, and possessed basic common sense. Bob was a nerd, and Bob was going to be the biggest. And the tallest.

Phartonya quickly began practicing standing tall. He stretched every morning. At night he hung off the cliffs, clinging to a tree branch, his feet weighted with stones. He stayed there suspended for hours, beads of sweat sliding dirty trails down his face and neck. He hurt, but he welcomed the pain. He thrived on it.

His frame began to change, his shoulders and arms bulged and his back tapered down to a narrow waist. His flesh began to sag in his midsection as his fat melted away. Fearful of looking weak he layered mud and stones to his midsection allowing it to dry before putting on his armor.

The orcs were gathering to march into battle. Phartonya woke with excitement in his belly as he dressed for the fight. He began walking to his post and noticed the other orcs giving him wide berth. He was easily a foot taller than the tallest. Its working he thought. He sneered and swaggered as he walked about. He cast his eye from side to side daring any to challenge him. The other orcs slid their eyes away. He grunted as he joined in the marching formation. He stood out like a dirty ugly sore thumb.

Saruman looked over his army. He frowned at the orc that stood out in the middle of his group, Saruman looked again, he was larger than any of the other orcs. He narrowed his eyes and beckoned his war lord Sharku. The orc hurried over to his master and leaned in while the wizard spoke.

"Who is that and why is he in the middle of my army rather than in the front where he can be seen? Look at him you fool, just the size of him will send the mothers of Rohan to the hills clutching their babes to their breasts! " his voice started mild but mounted with fury as he spoke, shouting at the end.

"I will move him at once" Sharku replied with a snarl as he turned heel and marched towards the ranks.

Saruman nodded stroking his long white beard and moved along contemplating the upcoming battle.

Phartonya's heart raced as he strutted to the front of the line. He felt the change in status as he left his unit and joined the elite fighting force at the front. His simple club was replaced by a sword and an axe. The metal fairly hummed in his hand as he sheathed the sword and slung the axe over his shoulder. He was ready to fight. The march began.

The battle was messy and the grass quickly flowed with a sea of blood and carnage. The scent of death soon hung like a cloud across the valley. Phartonya raced forward from one opponent to the next, cutting down the few that tried to fight rather than run.

The fourth solider rammed his helmeted head into the breast plate of Phartonya's armor. Phartonya felt a crack as the hardened mud broke. It began to crumble even as he grabbed the solider and twisted his neck, killing him instantly.

Soon Phartonya's armor began to sway and bang against his body as he ran, stoned and mud tumbed out tripping him. He plunged ahead killing everything in his path. In a haze of blood lust, Phartonya ripped the armor from his body and flung it to the ground.

Two solider seized that moment to run at him from different sides. Artimus ran from the right leaping high at the orc. He tackled him grabbing him across the chest as he fell. Angelus ran from the left, tucked low to the ground he launched himself at Phartonya's knees.

Phartonya felt his insides explode as his spinal cord snapped like a twig. He howled, spit and blood flying from his mouth. He raged as he lay there dying. By lengthening his back, he made it weaker. He growled realizing thay had be been hunched over the hit wouldn't have killed him. The light began to fade from his eyes and his screams died down to a choking gurgle as he watched his old unit march forward into the battle field.

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