Green 'un magick

Fine! If the ork doesn't want to give the meat willingly she'll just have to **** it from him. Barba begins to swish her hands around in the air, mumbling a chant all the while. The ork notices this from the corner of his eye and begins to watch curiously. As per ritual requires, she sticks a finger up her bum, hops counterclockwise on one leg three times, slaps her belly, and sticks her tongue out. She suddenly goes bug eyed as the magick takes effect, and her body droops limply. Something big is coming.

"BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURP!"

A big greed cloud of miasma climbed out of her mouth. The ork snickered, but just as he was about to get back to his work, the green burp cloud floated over to him, took the shape of a clenched fist, and bonked him over the noggin. It bonked him again a moment later.

"Ow! Stop that!"

"Me not stop that till me get meat!"

The ork rubbed his head, his face clearly annoyed. The fist bonked him again.

"Ow! Oki oki, fine! Have fekin' meat!"

He tosses a big fatty chunk of belly at Barba, who staggers as she catches it. The burp cloud dissapitates with a flick of a wrist.

"Ork respect green 'un magick now. Ork respect cum witch!"

"Psah." The ork grunts and gets back to work, the table shaking with each cleaver chop. Barba happily skips back to her hut, a big hunka slimy meat in her arms.