The Brothers

Deep in the eye of Terror on an unnamed world the brothers met all waiting to hear why it was that their messiah like brother Lorgar had summoned them to this place.
The Palace that they were in looked like some giant skull carved in a mountain of grey atop which stood Kor Phaeron holding a sword to the sky and screaming I have the power whilst Erebus thundered in the faces of twelve men all dressed in white with three lions on their shirts and did unmentionable things to their genitalia their crime? Not winning their last two world cup matches and loosing him a lot of money.
The room was decorated in all things to the glory of chaos and to mortal eyes the symbols would have been insanity in itself just to look upon it.
So insane was this room that the voice of John Motson could be heard giving yet another boring monotone useless football fact over and over again and driving some captured Imperial Guard mad with the mundane facts and figures and reruns of Eastenders could be seen against the far wall with some Neophytes pleading to not see anymore of this nonsensical drama.
The raised throne was shrouded in darkness even to the brothers superhuman visions all they could make out was a vague shape.
“My brothers of darkness” Lorgar raised his arms “The mighty lords of the warp have seen fit to return he who was lost to us” with wave that was more then a little theatrical the lights in the room came full on and the assembled Primarchs gasped as they laid eyes upon Horus once more.
Horus was as magnificent as ever and right now he was lounging on the throne like some king of old.
The cheer went up around the room as Lorgar proclaimed that the true sons of chaos would take back what was rightfully theirs and slay all the Xenos leaving nothing in their wake.
Perturabo folded his arms across his chest “So, the mighty Horus returns, is this some of your trickery Fulgrim, that your errant lord commander the so called primogenitor himself has created, I cannot see Abaddon being happy about this”
Lorgar clapped his hand on Perturabos shoulders “Relax brother he truly is Horus, just as Konrad was brought back to us so too was Horus”
Perturabo glanced across at the silent figure of the Night Haunter who looked silently on from the shadows. “Best be careful that there is no assassin lurking to take your head again Curze”
The Night Haunter arched an eyebrow “Perhaps I should capture Dorn and then he will show you how to make a real bastion”
There was a collective hiss as Perturabo went to say something then set his jaw tight his neck vein throbbing, everyone assembled knew that you did not remind Curze of the assassin and you didn’t remind Perturabo that once again Dorn had beaten him in a game of build the castle out of Lego.
Horus looked on with boredom as the usual rivalries of the traitor brothers took hold once more and picked a magazine up and began to flick through it.
“We’re going to C’thonia to buy a heat magazine,” they all chorused.
Fulgrim peered over Horus’s shoulder at the pictures in the magazine. His eyes lit up as he cast a lecherous look at the men in the magazine.
All bronzed toned, muscles like rocks and stomachs like washboards, just like a hen night in Blackpool.
“David Beckham” He drooled “Oh what I can do to him and what I can show him, the thousand and nine pleasures of the night would all be mine and his”
“Save your lustful thoughts brother for another time” Lorgar warned “we are not here to discuss how you would bring the mighty prince of dark pleasure to the pin ups in that magazine”
“Oh its not for your benefit Lorgar” Fulgrim cooed “then again perhaps you could use a little lightening up yourself, perhaps a weekend with one of my slave girls or boys”
Lorgar shook his head as Angron raised his axe.
“Blood for the blood god,” He roared “Skulls for the skull throne!”
“Is that all he can ever say?” Fulgrim yawned
Angron looked once more at Fulgrim and with a sneer that looked more like a drooling wolf about to feast.
“Your blood for the blood god and your skull for the skull throne pretty boy”
Lorgar rolled his eyes and turned as Mortarion hissed the poison of Barbarus into the room.
“By the gods” Alpharius waved his hand in front of his face “Don’t you floss man?”
“How about I show you what the touch of death is really like?” Mortarion sneered.
“And get your cooties? I do not think so” Alpharius snorted “you might find attraction in puss dripping warts I for one will give it a wide berth if you don’t mind”
“Brothers please” Lorgar stilled for silence “I want to hear what our mighty brother has to say on his resurrection to the truth and the way of the true gods”
“I for one want Angron to slip into something more…comfortable” Fulgrim teased.
Angrons roar could be heard the planet over and so could Fulgrims’ squeal as the great angry war god took to chasing him like a murderous Benny Hill round the citadel.
Eventually with peace in place and Angron firmly chained and Fulgrims mouth firmly closed less blood be spilt once more they turned to the dais waiting for Horus to utter some great words of wisdom.
Horus looked at his fingernails as if contemplating what kind of manicure they needed and flicked his dark hair from his eyes.
“We are the bringers of Tears” he began, his voice sounding a little croaky. “I am the Prince of Darkness and I say we bring war to the pigs…”
“Brothers!” Magnus rose up to the odd jeer or two “We have been deceived, this is not our beloved brother Horus!”
“Oh per lease” Perturabo found a new vent for his anger “you told us we would win the next crusade…where did you get that from the back of a cereal box?”
“No White Dwarf about five years ago” Magnus frowned but composed himself “this is not Horus” and with a wave of his hands and uttering the magic words “Harry Potter no more” the light around Horus shimmered.
There before them sat the Prince of Darkness himself, the front man of Black Sabbath for so many years and a metal icon laughing at them all for their stupidity.
“Get him!” Lorgar snarled
“SHARROOONNNNN!!!!”