Emp and Morty

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Small Book.pngThe following article is a /tg/ related story or fanfic. Should you continue, expect to find tl;dr and an occasional amount of awesome.

On the plague planet, the Primarch of the Death Guard was enjoying some downtime by regaling past exploits over a mug full of toxic sludge.

“....and that's how you beat the Hrud in a ‘stare until horrifying entropy kicks in’ contest,” said Mortarion, and proceeded to chug the last of his slimy beverage.

“That's quite the story, boss!” replied Typhus, who had been Mortarion’s drinking partner for the night.

However, before Mortarion could continue, his vox started ringing. Sighing, he knew who was calling him. “What,” he answered quite bluntly, not even bothering to say hello.

“Uh, hey there son!” A voice gargled over the vox. “Papa Nurgle calling in to see if you wanted join Mom and me-“

“I told you already,” Mortarion angrily interrupted, “I'm not going to call Isha Mom!”

Nurgle cried, “But she was looking forward to family night! We were going to play scrabble!”

“GOODBYE!” Mortarion shouted as he slammed the vox into the bar table, sending it straight through the floor while the table shattered.

Typhus quipped, “Boy, you've got worse daddy issues than Horus ever did.”

“GAAAAAAH!” Mortarion screamed in frustration. “No matter what I do, I can never forget what the Emperor did to me! FUCK YOU DAD!” Mortarion’s normally pale face was starting to turn red for once.

“You've really been in a rut lately. What's got you so hot and bothered?” asked Typhus.

Grunting, Mortarion answered, “I've never been able to forgive that colossal dick for murdering my foster father.”

“Oh wow,” said Typhus, genuinely taken back, “I never knew. I can see how you'd be broken up by losing someone that important to you-“

“NO YOU IDIOT!” Mortarion raged. “I WANTED TO KILL HIM!”

“...oh....” was the only thing Typhus could say in response.

Mortarion took another deep swig of his sludge, and wistfully replied, “I still remember it like it was yesterday....”



Back on the planet Barbarus, young Mortarion was stuck living alone on the polluted mountain with his abusive foster father, the Overlord. The putrid being belched and said, “All right you little shit, time for you to go out and play. But remember, you gotta be back by six, or you'll be locked in a cage with my fart gas again.”

In a squeaky voice, Mortarion answered, “Oh Geez dad, I don't want that...” he still hadn’t fully gotten the smell out of his clothes since the last time.

“Good, now get lost,” the Overlord told him, and wandered off.

“Oooooh...” young Mortarion grunted, “I hate that guy so much. I wish I had a new dad…”

Suddenly there was a bright flash; a large green portal emerged out of the air, and out of it stepped a gigantic figure wearing golden armor and a wreath made of gold.

“Well wish granted, kiddo,” said the man, slurring his words, “I*burp*'m your real dad. That's right, I made you out of my own genes and grew you in a test tube and shit. And now that I've found you I'm here to take you back.”

Mortarion was ecstatic. “Oh my gosh! My wish came true! Pinch me I must be dreaming!”

“Yeah, I'm not doing that,” said the Emperor. “But listen, befo*burp*re we go, we need to take care of a certain problem first. See, even though I'm your biological father and you were kidnapped at birth, old Sewerbreath up there wants to claim legal guardianship of you. Now, I'm on a strict timetable and we don't have time to go to family court, so here's what we're gonna do;” the Emperor bent down, reached into his pocket, and handed Mortarion a rusty pocket knife. “You're gonna shank that slimy bastard.”

“W-w-w-what?! Shank him?!” Mortarion cried in shock.

The Emperor nonchalantly answered, “Well if you prefer, any weapon will do. Now... what was your name again?”

“Mortarion-“

“Listen, Morty,” The Emperor interrupted, “I know this guy raised you, so you might have some misgivings...”

“N-no! Mortarion shouted, “I hate that bastard for what he put me through! I've wanted to kill him from day one! B-b-but he's in the thickest smog cloud on the planet! How will I get to him?”

The Emperor bent down and patted Mortarion on the shoulder. “Okay Morty, let me give you some fatherly advice: sometimes you just gotta believe in yourself. If you really want something, you give it your all, and you take it! Got it?”

Elated, Mortarion yelled, “Yeah! You're going down, Not-Dad!”

The Overlord, who was still within earshot of all this as it was happening, bluntly answered, “Yeah, good luck with that; I'm behind seven layers of toxic smog. By the way, when you inevitably fail, you're only having grox feces for dinner for the next three months.”

Mortarion charged up the hill screaming with the knife, but it wasn’t long before he collapsed, gasping from all the toxic air.

“Oh myself, Morty,” the Emperor grumbled. “Running uphill will just consume oxygen faster, that's no way to mountaineer. Anyway, we wasted enough time, so let's finish this.”

The Emperor pulled out a volkite pistol from his pocket and fired it at the Overlord. Before he could even cry out in surprise or pain, he was already a pile of dust.

“All right, time to *burp* go Morty, we got work to do.” The Emperor took a swig from his hip flask and was getting ready to leave back through the portal from where he came.

“W-w-w-what?!” shouted Mortarion, still crawling on the ground. “What was all that about believing in myself?!”

The Emperor paused, turned around, and sighed. “Yeah, I figured that was something a dad was supposed to say, but let's be honest, that shit never works. You gave it your best shot and failed, well, that shit happens. Still, as I've said, I'm a very busy man, and I couldn't afford to waste time for some kind of epiphany or journey of discovery or whatever, so we’re going to have to make due with postponing it.”

Mortarion bitterly protested, “B-b-but I was going to kill him!”

“And I want a girlfriend who survives longer than the third date!” the Emperor yelled in reply. “But you can't always get what you want, Morty! Now let's scram, I'm gonna have to detox my robes if we stick around any longer, and this is very expensive Vostroyan Minkasaurus fur!”

Utterly exasperated, Mortarion screamed, “WHAT THE FUCK IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?”

The Emperor grabbed a hold of Mortarion and firmly said, “Listen to me, Morty! Forget your foster dad, we're going to go on adventures now! The galaxy's full of idiots and genocidal maniacs, and they'll tear us apart, Morty! But if you stick with me, I'm going to accomplish great things Morty! And you're going to be part of them! And we're going to run around and do all kinds of things, Morty! Just you and me, and all your brothers, Morty! The galaxy is our enemy, Morty! We're the only friends we *burp* got Morty!”

The Emperor continued to drunkenly ramble, Mortarion not noticing that the portal was gradually swallowing them up.

“Emp and Morty, Emp and Morty and their adventures, Morty! Emp and Morty foreve-for a hundred thousand years, Morty! Be Emp and Morty, running around in Emp and Morty time, all day long forever! Emp & Morty Forever a Hundred times, over and over Emp and Morty....”

“NOOOOOOOO!!!!!” cried Mortarion as they were finally sucked in.


Back to the present, Mortarion had passed out drunk, murmuring in his sleep between snores.

“……….snnnnnnzzzzzzz……. emp'n'morty.... snnnnzz.... dot com...... hunerd years......"

Typhus, confused by the story, and feeling quite woozy himself, stared down at the bottle from which they had been drinking.

“Oh shit, I think Lucius spiked our drinks again.”