In a few minutes he had regained his natural size and was strutting before them, quite delighted with his transformation.
"Well, well! What do you think of me now ?" he asked proudly.
"You are very skinny and remarkably ugly," declared Pessim.
"You are a poor judge of Orks," was the reply.

"Anyone can see that I'm much handsomer than those dreadful things called birds, which are all fluff and feathers." "Their feathers make soft beds," asserted Pessim.

"And my skin would make excellent drumheads," retorted the Ork.

"Nevertheless, a plucked bird or a skinned Ork would be of no value to himself, so we needn't brag of our usefulness after we are dead.

But for the sake of argument, friend Pessim, I'd like to know what good you would be, were you not alive ?" "Never mind that," said Cap'n Bill.