Last Night in Dushgoi (part 2)

For long, the Peoples of the West have wondered: And what about the Orcwives? Are there no female Orcs at all? It was only in the Fourth Age that the files of Mordor's secret service, known as the Ears of Sauron, were opened to the public. This stunning record from the eavesdropping protocols leaves no doubt about the Orcish family life:

Time: 9 March 3019 TA. Very late evening.
MRS. GORBAG: Ah, here ya are! What did ya get in yar puny brain again, eh? Didn't I tell ya ya come and wipe da filthy staircase? Me, I am working all day cleaning dat idiotic Dushgoi Tower from top floor to bottom floor and dat lad has nothing under his scalp than to hang around with his brainless Nazgûl pals again!
GORBAG: Sorry, Darling, but 'twas important. We haff plans, great plans. Burn that Minas over there a little and make a big mess all over the Pelennor, lots of fun, ya know. I couldn't stay aside when...
MRS. GORBAG: Nag nag nag! Out dat Orc would go and invade a little, eh? And have a nice stop at every pub between the Cirith and Belfalas? Now dat he would like, yea! I told ya ya work today, and if ya don't listen I'll tell ya one thing and one time only: ya will see no pub from inside for the rest of the month!
GORBAG: But Daaaaaarling! Everyone is going, even the Morgul Lord is going, will be a heck of a celebrity down there, and I will be no good lad if I don't drink my... uh, kill my share of Whiteskins.
MRS. GORBAG: So all are going, eh? Ye bloody lads go and amuse yeselves and we lassies shall do all the household alone again? Like it was when ya had no other business but to raid dat Ithilien! Four weeks ya were out and I was skinning my knees on these bloody stairs. Curse them Tarks: forgetting the elevators when they built dat Tower! And all the heavy food we haff to buy and carry home. But I tell ya what, no way, lad. Ya will not go for fun at the Pelennor! Ya go up to the Tower of Cirith Ungol and buy stuff. We are almost outa food again, and when ya're all out who will do the carrying then? Not me for certain! Here, take dat shopping list and dare ya to forget anything of what's written on!
GORBAG: But Daaaaarling, that is so much! All that stuff is sooo heavy! What? Ten pounds pork a la Bálrog, half a Winged Beast from the grill, three pickled dragon tails, and salted shark from the Núrn? Are ya crazy? Ya know what a load that is on a little Orc's back? I'm not an Uruk, ya know...
MRS. GORBAG: Never mind! Then ya will take a bunch of snagas and they help ya carry. Ya go now! And don't get any idea of trying again to drink that Shagrat lad under the table! I can still hear ya squeaking when ya had had that headache last time from all the Dorwinion wine. Ye lads always think ye die when ye have a wee bit of pain! Read my lips: no unnecessary stops! Haff ya understood that?
GORBAG: Yes, Darling. (I really shouldn't have mated a lassie with Angmar blood in her veins.)
MRS. GORBAG: And I don't wanna hear any nagging of ya!
GORBAG: Yes, Darling.
MRS. GORBAG: Now ya take them snagas and go up the pass. And do dat quick!
GORBAG: Just a tiny pint of beer before...?
MRS. GORBAG: GET OUT OF HERE NOW ! ! ! ! !

And that is why Orcs behave the way they do when they are abroad.

Note: This record was first published in rec.art.sbooks.tolkien at December 25, 1995.