Officially, Nosh and Scran are Brumex Quality Assurance — but everyone knows what that means. Their job isn’t taste-testing so much as territory-testing.Born in the vats of the original Brumex Foundry, the twins were the first to survive Bobby Brumex’s “experimental taste trials.” They emerged stronger, louder, and hungrier than any gangers before them — two slabs of living muscle, bred to chew through stone and punch through armour.

Officially, Nosh and Scran are Brumex Quality Assurance — but everyone knows what that means. Their job isn’t taste-testing so much as territory-testing.Born in the vats of the original Brumex Foundry, the twins were the first to survive Bobby Brumex’s “experimental taste trials.” They emerged stronger, louder, and hungrier than any gangers before them — two slabs of living muscle, bred to chew through stone and punch through armour.

The junior reps of Brumex Inc. Stigg and Migg are little more than walking advertisements for the product, constantly shoving samples into the mouths of captives before beating them half to death with spud-jackers. They spread the name of Brumex through terror, graffiti, and breakfast violence.

The interns of Brumex Inc. These Migg and Stigg are little more than walking advertisements for the product, constantly shoving samples into the mouths of captives before beating them half to death with spud-jackers. They spread the name of Brumex through terror, graffiti, and breakfast violence.

Biff handles “mergers and acquisitions” with a grin and a power axe, specializing in the hostile kind—tracking down gang champions, erasing them from the board, and folding their assets into the operation. Brumex, the steroid-packed breakfast brick he chews like concrete rations, fuels his twitchy, towering frame and unrelenting aggression. Negotiation isn’t in his vocabulary—only liquidation.

Named such for his 'ranged' expertise and Armed with a combat shotgun, Far-Puncher’s role is marketing. By which he means putting holes in anyone who refuses to buy Brumex crates. He also claims to be working on “Brumex Lite,” a formula that doesn’t make your heart explode after a week, though the others think that’s heresy.

The first to “beta-test” the Brumex formula. Biff and thwaxon are laced with the stuff, giving them swollen, veiny physiques and wild bursts of strength. They’re also dangerously unstable, sometimes collapsing into food comas mid-battle. But when they’re awake, they’ll pulp a sumpkroc with their bare fists.

Biff handles “mergers and acquisitions” with a grin and a power axe, specializing in the hostile kind—tracking down gang champions, erasing them from the board, and folding their assets into the operation. Brumex, the steroid-packed breakfast brick he chews like concrete rations, fuels his twitchy, towering frame and unrelenting aggression. Negotiation isn’t in his vocabulary—only liquidation.