ORC HIGH SCHOOL

Smashington, purely out of habit, gave a picture-perfect pose for Grank's Instagram photo. He was a little disappointed in himself for this and almost immediately after the picture was taken, he launched into a rant.
"YOU ORC KIDS THESE DAYS AND YOUR INSTAGRAMS AND YOUR ORCSPACE AND YOUR ORCBOOK AND YOUR TIKTORC AND YOUR ORCPHONES..."
He said this while he was still eating, launching tiny pieces of food all around as he ranted. If anything, it made him eat faster because he just kept getting angrier the more he talked about the young'uns and such.
"...AND YOUR WINDORCS AND YOUR SKRILLORX MUSIC AND YOUR CALL OF DUTY: ORCISH WARFARE..."
This went on for quite some time. All the while, Smashington kept eating like a madman (madorc?) unlike Grank, who in a rare moment of something resembling intelligence, actually had the good sense to slow down. Shashington did not slow down. Smashington kept ranting about
"...AND YOUR MARK ZORCERBERGS AND YOUR TOBACCORC VAPE PENS AND YOUR PLASTIC SPORCS AND YOUR WORLD OF ORCCRAFT--"

He was interrupted by one of the students.
"Hah, boomer teacher! No orc still play World of OrcCraft!"

"OH, SMASHINGTON'S APOLOGIES. SMASHINGTON COULDN'T KEEP UP WITH LATEST GAME THING BECAUSE SMASHINGTON TOO BUSY SMASHING YOUR MOTHER...A TON!!!"
The student ran away in tears, much to Smashington's amusement.
"FUNNIEST PART IS, IT TRUE. NOW, WHERE WAS SMASHINGTON? OH YES."
He continued eating and ranting.
"...AND YOUR ORCBOX SERIES ORC AND YOUR MOBILE ORC GUNDAM ANIME AND YOUR CRIPPLING INDIGESTION FOLLOWED BY SEVERE STOMACH CRAMPS BECAUSE LAST NIGHT YOU WERE HUNGRY AND ORCO BELL WAS THE CLOSEST PLACE THAT WAS OPEN."
There was a silent pause.
"...WAIT, WHY SMASHINGTON TALK ABOUT THAT LAST ONE AGAIN?"
Then there was a very loud growling sound from Smashington's stomach.
"...Oh dear, I have made a severe miscalculation."
Even so, he couldn't show any sign of weakness, so he kept powering through. Still, it was obvious that he was slowing down quite a bit. He probably won't even make it to my next post, whenever that is (ETA: Before the heat death of the universe).


(Edit: Wrong color lul)

 

Grank stared blankly at Smashington, in sheer awe of the magnitude of the rant coming from his mouth.
"Wow" Grank began, "Teacher Orc really hate student Orcs"
Grank continued to stare as he was getting splattered by copious amounts of meat and sauce from Smashingtons rampage.
"Grank really think you should see counselor Orc."
Grank was still slowly eating, plate by plate, at a steady pace. Though, he was no longer really paying attention to his own food.
As he continued to eat and listen to Smashington rant, one of the other students Orcs yelled out --
"Hey, what's wrong with Grank's face?"

Grank pondered for a moment
Who Grank? Me make fun of weird face!

It took arguably longer than it should have, but after a few moments Grank thought again
(Remember, his brain can only handle one thought at a time)

Oh.. me Grank.. what wrong with Grank face?

Grank began to touch his own face, noticing it felt extra chubby.. maybe swollen.
After several long minutes of touching his face, Grank looked down at his plate.

Lamb.. in peanut sauce.

Granks swollen face turned pale at the realization, and barely muttered to Smashington through his swollen lips.

"Uhh.. Mister Teacher Orc" Grank began

"Grank.. Allergic to peanuts"

Grank fell backwards out of his lunch table, gasping for breath

"No..call...Grank...mom" Grank gasped out
"Grank..never...do math"


Oot: phone post, will fix formatting later

 

"INTESTINAL FORTITUDE...WEAKENING."
It took Smashington a second to process what Grank had just said.
"Wait...allergic? ALLERGIC?!"
The sudden emergency took his attention away from his rumbling bowels and he called out to one of the onlooking teachers nearby.
"YOU! GRAB EPIPEN!"
The teacher--who, unlike Smashington, had a more typical Orcish intellect (read: very little)--tilted his head in confusion.
"WHAT PEN?"
"EPIPEN!"
"PEEPEEPEN?"
"EPIPEN!!!"
"EPIC PEN?!"
In a fit of frustration, Smashington slammed his hands down on the table, breaking it into pieces.
"JUICE-THAT-MAKE-PEANUT-ALLERGY-GO-AWAY!!! THAAAAT PEEEEEEN!!!!!"

There was a moment of silence, save for whatever noises were coming from Grank.

"...WHAT YOU WRITE WITH IT?"
"AaAaAaAAAaAAAAAAAGHGAHAGAGAAHAHAGHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!"
Letting out a sound that was somewhere between a battle cry and a rage-induced scream, a sound like the burning rage of a thousand Foreman grills, a sound like a hydrogen bomb of fury colliding with a missile of pissed-off-itude, Smashington tore through the kitchen and made his way to the nurse's office. He took the quickest way there.

And by "quickest way there," of course, I mean right through the walls.

Driven by his need to save his student's life and his need to take a massive dump, he tore through the school and soon made it to the office. He looked at the nurse and screamed.
"NEED EPIPEN!"
The nurse orc took a case of epipens out.
"HOW MANY?"
"YES!"
He took the whole case and ran back to the kitchen.

Once he made it back, he opened up the case and yelled to the crowd.
"MOVE OUT OF SMASHINGTON'S WAY!!!"
What happened next was a little bit of...unconventional medical treatment. It looked cool, though. He took the epipens out of the case one by one and started throwing them like darts at Grank. He threw them so hard that not only did they stick in their target, they also started injecting the medicine on their own. Whether that's because he threw them with enough force to push the epinephrine out or because the epipens were too scared of Smashington to not start pumping medicine immediately is anyone's guess. After he threw 10 epipens, he took a moment to catch his breath.
"GRANK? YOU ALIVE, GRANK? GRANK? GRAAAAAAAAAAANK!!!"