Somewhere in a land not too far from here in a world (That definitely exists but in this context it's probably going to go over your heads. Can you figure it out? *Jazz hands*) Mr Rubby Ducky Chan grimaced at the wood on his desk, stroking his rubbery army cap with great intent as he stared at the wood. Watching it. Studying his reflections. He was definitely blonde. A figurehead for his fellow rubber duckians, Mr Rubber Ducky Chan swished his short blonde hair at a camera and spoke "My fellow nation of baboons, we must keep the lemurs at bay. For they will all stare at us with their eyes! We must not loose this staring contest! Too many of us have suffered from eye strain," he began. "They are building weapons of mass combustion. So we will build a great wall and this wall wills separate us from the mountain goats!" Profuse yelling ensued along with cheering and more booing. Then it stopped. "Sir Rubber, the tunnels to send the mountain goats to Asia are ready. Old Mac Donald has released them from his farm," said a man with a generally mundane description that is too long for the purpose of this roleplay. "Very good Jimmy, does he have beef?" "Has he got beef sir?" "Yes that is what I said." "Well, no sir. He did not confirm whether or not he had beef." "Poppycock." The nondescript gentleman called jim blinked "You're very Northern Hemisphere today sir." "When was I southern?" Rubber ducky returned with a stern expression, twitching his moustache. "When you went down with your wi-" Jim tried. "Enough, don't remind me of the woes of home, there are more important matters at hand. The plunger is running against me for dictatorship. " Ducky grouched and sat back in his chair of supreme evil duckiness "...the goats must go to asia."