Them's the "Quacklings", Chris -- the collaborationist ducks. Which are generally absent, sadly; I do wonder what drives thoughts on ducks at times (lust aside, of course).
The bounty and massacres are all very well (and perhaps provide a minute sense of pathos that would otherwise be impossible), but is anyone seriously telling me that, in response to these acts, such a fractious, quarrelsome, cowardly bunch of fuckers are going to start crying "I'm Spartacus!" or "Fight them in the marshes... Never surrender!"? Bollocks. Not a few of them will be shopping the others in for the bounty, taking every opportunity to save their lives and finish old grudges.
We're a nation of shopkeepers. They're a nation of poultry. 'nuff said.
But the only ducks we generally hear about have big swords or crossbows, and worship Humakt (zzzzzzzzzzz...). Genius.
"<IGQ-obligatory>The only problem is that, to be a quisling, you'd
have to be half-red. And I'm not joining you card-carrying
pinkos.</IGQ-obligatory>"
They be red, alright.
Stu.
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