The Adventures of the Tyranids

Life is hard for Tyranids - We search for food, sparing no effort. There's no point in suffering and resentment, If you're a loyal slave to your stomach! On Monday, we gobbled up an Eldar. Skinny - as if he hadn't eaten for a year. He had a guitar with him - He barely managed to unwind the strings from his mandibles. And on Tuesday, we came across the Tau. As they sang of good and evil, So they ranted about the Greater Good - Our jaws clenched with boredom. On Wednesday, we snuck up on the Orks from behind. They punched holes in my carapace. I still can't figure out what it was - Meat or a vegetable side dish. We ran into Nurglites on Thursday - Like rotten canned food, exactly. They cursed and spat for a long time, Our stomachs ached all night. We encountered the Tzeentchi on Friday, What a bummer – nothing but dust inside! They crawled away hungry, sad – Lent day, damn it. On Saturday, they leaped with a ringing song Noisemarines, the color of dessert. They quietly passed them by – We're already having a concert in our stomachs. We're having no luck on this campaign, no matter what! Hunger, damn it, is tearing our guts apart... ...If the Emperor suddenly rises – On Sunday, he'll devour us all!