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Skittles entered the storeroom behind Smilog and espied the Orcs.
"This won't do, this won't do at all," she said. "Nassty, thieving orcs in my ice cream! They must suffer, for no one does really freakishly weird things with my ice cream without my consent! I am the Chief Warlordess of Roggie, hear me roar!"
With that, she promptly became sick on the floor. But afterwards, she was ready to kick some orc hiney and got to it with much enthusiasm. She stabbed madly at the ice cream tubs with her switchblades while shrieking wildly. The orcs fought back by slinging ice cream at her.
Smilog ducked out of the storeroom and shut the door, feeling that this was the wisest course of action.
Horrible noises came from within; screaming, screeching, crashing, thudding, stomping, and random bursts of polka music. Finally, Skittles emerged, bedecked in ice cream but with a triumphant glow in her crazed eyes. "I have vanquished the dancing orcs," she proclaimed, brandishing a soda straw.
"But where's the rum flavoured ice cream?" asked The Barrow Wight.
Everyone in the room groaned.
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