Clown Clone Horde

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The Clown Clone Horde has assembled at the northern frontier again in their thousands of slightly too small cars.
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Cairoli the Ludicrous has decreed that any city which does not surrender to laughter will have the facial muscles of its citizens slit.

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Last time the Clone Clown Horde swept over Chimerica, whole provinces were left deadpan, and the streets ran with custard for weeks.

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Apparently, thanks to the Snowflake Algorithm, the makeup of each member of the Clown Clone Horde is unique. Or is this their idea of a joke?

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The Eyeless are the shock troops of the Clone Clown Horde: weeping and gibbering, they sprint pell mell into city centres in their thousands.

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Crashing into everything in their way, the Eyeless carry ladders to enable the Horde’s advance. Somehow these are never correctly deployed.

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Disdaining the palaces of the conquered, Cairoli raises his giant yurt on their rubble and is entertained by the juggling of ex-rulers’ heads.

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