Limping along the road to the realm of the Black Falcons, brave Sir Anthony was all of a sudden struck speechless by fear upon the sight of a contingent of KKII knights trundling up the road in their brightly hued armour.
He had never seen anything so bizzarre, the moonlight reflecting of their rainbow-coloured garments; baby blue, bright red, purple of all colours. In their arms they each carried a chicken drumstick, which they were carrying away as tributes from the Black Falcons, defeated in a war the previous year. Unfortunately, by the time they would reach their land, the drumsticks would be
toast. And not the kind that is fresh from the toaster, dripping with butter, and soothing to the palate. Rather, they would be the hard, cold, crumbly kind inexplicably popular with residents of the distant British Isles.
Undaunted by the uselessness of their bounty, these knights...