Marc was a perfectly ordinary washing machine engineer from Nottingham. Every morning he loaded his van with belts, pumps, wheels meals and spare door seals before driving from house to house rescuing socks mops locks and clocks from filters that were blocked. He liked tea strong enough to stand a spoon in, often cake flavoured, and believed most modern appliances died because people put too many towels inside One rainy Thursday he was called to an old cottage at the edge of the moors. The washing machine itself was ancient it had cracked the floors, — a huge metal thing rattling like a diesel engine. The owner, a nervous old man, whispered with fright , “It makes strange noises in the middle of the night.” Marc was fearing a worn main bearing, or maybe the tearing in the floor was the cause Instead, when he removed the back panel, he found scratches on the inside. Too deep for a small mammel. Then he heard it. A growl. [singing]Not from the drum. From underneath the floorboards. Now, most engineers would leave at this point. Marc did not. [singing]Marcs too old to run. because marc had the perfect amount of bravery and stupidity in perfect harmony, marc fetched his torch. Beneath the cottage was a long dark tunnel. with damp stone walls. Rusted pipes. a few funnels — And footprints. Large footprints. That was where he first saw the orcs. [singing]yes i said orcs They were hunched around stolen appliances, hammering washer motors into crude machines that spat sparks deep into the darkness. One enormous orc wore a tumble dryer door as a shield. that he'd found in a feild, somewhere in hampshire alright, Another was arguing over whether fabric conditioner counted as “wizard juice.” [singing]it does not Their leader stepped forward, covered in oil and wearing what appeared to be a dishwasher part covered in tin foil. “You fix spin-cycle magic?” the orc grunted. marc adjusted his glasses. “Well… yes.” said marc with a grin on his face he steped forward one pace i can fix any machine built by man, as long as i have the parts in my van The orcs cheered. For years they had raided bits from the towns they visit, believing the mysterious spinning drums contained trapped thunder spirits. None of them understood plumbing. Their fortress smelled strongly of damp socks rocks and old frocks,and old shoes for running. marc ended up staying three weeks. He repaired their generators using salvaged washing machine junk. He taught an orc named ben how to unclog a drain pump. In return, the orcs showed him underground caverns filled with cool tools swimming pools and ancient machines from forgotten kingdoms. By the end of the month, the orcs had built the finest laundry beneath the moors. if you ever hear a washing machine rumbling late at night and theres a clonking sound that gives you a fright, and it sounds like it maybe coming from under the ground, the orcish subterainian laundry you may have accidentally found, or the clonking sound It might just be the orcs. taking out knives and forks and all the other junk they find in the pump [instrumental outro]
