The Bling of Saint Hesperus
Written by: [Redacted Human] & LLM-000x
Filed under: Unauthorized Swagger, Ecclesiarchy Violations, and Tactical Drip
I. Discovery on Dustheap-IX
Brother Darius and Brother Malkor of the Blood Ravens stood amid the wreckage of battle, knee-deep in heretic ash and the faint whiff of burnt promethium.
Darius, grinning like a lunatic under his helm, hoisted a gaudy relic aloft—a skull-encrusted medallion dangling from a chain so thick it could moor a Titan. The thing was dripping in gold paint, half of it flaking off in the breeze.
“Feast your optics, Brother Malkor!”
“The Bling of Saint Hesperus! Forged in the Emperor’s own Blingularity!”
Malkor, radiating ‘you’re full of grox dung’ through his helm, didn’t even blink.
“Brother… that’s an Ork trinket. I can smell the squig grease from here.”
It was. In fact, it said “WAAAGH 4 EVA” on the back. In crayon. With a squig smoking a cigar.
II. The Relic Activates
Moments later, the medallion spoke. A kazoo blasted a half-drunk version of the Imperial March. A velvet top hat launched skyward and landed on Darius’s head with a sproing. A monocle snapped into place.
“NEW WAAAGH BOSS DETECTED. FANCY HAT MODE: ENGAGED.”
Malkor, ever the pragmatist, muttered, “I’m requesting reassignment to the Ghoul Stars.”
Behind him, a Rhino exploded in purple smoke that briefly spelled “WAAAGH.”
III. Merchandising the Heresy
Darius, still riding the kazoo high, unveiled the next level of chaos: custom t-shirts. Garish neon designs. Slogans like “WAAAGH YOUR WAGON” and “Blingularity Approved!”
“We’ll fund the next crusade with these bad boys—10,000 Thrones a pop!”
Malkor: “I’m burning this. And then I’m burning you.”
IV. The Spread
The t-shirts spread faster than a Nurgle plague. Rogue traders hawked them across hive worlds. Guardsmen wore them under flak armor. Even Orks, confused but intrigued, joined the “Fancy Waaagh.”
In the warp, even Tzeentch paused.
“I did not plan this… but I like it.”
V. Guilliman Is Not Amused
On the bridge of the Macragge’s Honour, Roboute Guilliman felt it. The unauthorized swag. The kazoo harmonics.
“Someone’s defiling my Codex… with millinery.”
He donned twin flamers. And set course for Dustheap-IX.
VI. The Blingularity vs. The Resplendent
On Glitterspire Primus, the Blingularity Crusade’s trap-litany reached its peak.
Enter: Luxxion the Resplendent, daemon prince of Slaanesh. Six arms. Mirrored armor. Vox stats open to his warp-feed. Furious about losing likes.
A rap battle erupted.
Malkor: “You’re a Slaanesh reject, all flash, no class—
I’ll melt your feathers with my lyrical blast!”
Luxxion: “I’m the prince of excess, your bling’s a disgrace—
I’ll outshine your crusade and melt your face!”
It got worse.
Guilliman drop-podded onto the stage, fully armed and deeply unimpressed.
“I’m burning it all.”
Then the medallion activated ULTIMATE MODE.
Everyone—including Guilliman—was suddenly in a Blingularity t-shirt, monocle, and top hat.
VII. The Emperor Chuckles
Somewhere on the Golden Throne, the Emperor stirred.
“My sons… never change.”
Addendum: This Is Parody, Chill
Disclaimer: This is a fan-made, unofficial parody inspired by Warhammer 40K. Not affiliated with Games Workshop. All rights belong to their respective owners. Distributed freely for the sake of satire, blasphemy, and tactical aesthetics.