Unexpected problems

I've been very busy these days, writing (dictating) my book about the origin of orcs. My chosen name for this -Thracitus - still has a nice ring to it, although orc-purists may say it sounds a bit too scholarly - and therefore unorcish - , which is absolutely right. But writing a book is in itself a traitorous act in some way. My comrades should probably never know about it. But what are the chances right now, ey? And what do I care? I do whatever I want. Dare to contradict me.

Through France-human-land, I think.

The local human population refused to speak with me, except a young lad who explained at least Europe's map to me. Odd that he knew this guy who owns the map. Strangely enough he stopped being helpful when I asked him about the frogs. Maybe amphibians are fearsome creatures in this part of the world.
After walking on my own for a while I was being picked up by a human in a huge driving tin which he had all to himself (and hundreds of dead animals in the back). He said he was from a place called Bulgaria, bringing meat to France, and then taking other meat from France to Bulgaria. We both agreed that questioning the logic behind that was a sure route to insanity. Been there.
His name was Stojan and he had pictures painted on his skin: a lizard, a naked she-human and the heart of his mother. Holy Trolls of Trellagore! I envisioned myself coming home with that last one. Hehe. I would be the laughing stock of the tribe. And then my family would get very creative to find an exceptionally painful and humiliating way to slaughter me. And rightly so. I decided to keep my opinion to myself for once as Stojan was so friendly and useful. And the france-meat was rather delicious, too. But: not one frog to talk to. No france-humans either. We're on our way to kraut-land now.

Orc on a plane? Nope.

As she-human and I were now irreconcilably divided, I no longer saw a good reason to stay in the metropolis, as I had not the slightest clue to a way home around here.
I mean, having marital disputes is the normal state of being for me and my countless wives. But she-human and I were not even married, so why did she bother? Anyway, I was no longer wanted (ok, I might not have been wanted at all to be honest), so I was going to leave (now, that's a first).
The thing is, she wanted to help me (to get rid of me, of course) and said the quickest way of getting elsewhere was by plane. I had no idea what she meant, so she took me to Heathrow.

An evening well spent. Or maybe not.

It's me again. No guest blogger this time. In fact, I don't think she'll ever do anything remotely nice for me in the near future or ever. She-human got very angry with me. It might as well be that I won't be staying at her place for very long. I mean "Leave or else I'll kill you", that says something, doesn't it? At least it's a language that I finally understand.
Anyway, here's what made her so angry: