Clown Clone Horde


The Clown Clone Horde has assembled at the northern frontier again in their thousands of slightly too small cars.

Cairoli the Ludicrous has decreed that any city which does not surrender to laughter will have the facial muscles of its citizens slit.


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


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?


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


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


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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