The Goat strided ponderously along the ramparts, his belly protruding beneath his tunic. A small patch of dust was kicking up to the southwest but the lord was too preoccupied with the turkey leg within his left hand. With a mighty bite he turned to the sentry who had just hailed him for the fifth time
"My Lord" the Sentry cried "A rider from Saren!"
"Let him through." the lord grunted while taking a large bite from the turkey leg on his right forearm.
The rider grunted while dismounting. The lord could immediately recognize him as Bongloader, the lord of Saren. "My Lord!" the rider began..."
"Halt!" Screamed the Lord Goat. "Surely you don't think the hospitality of Grunwalder castle would wain under my command?" The old lord gestured to a turret upon his left. The Bongloader proceeded upon the bidden path, the Goat followed after a large bite.
Their business concluded, the Bongloader began: "My Lord, it is time we get to business. Upon my very own lands, intruders have appeared, armed and organized, with the intention of wiping out not only mine own, but all of our kin. The Goat looked grave, but did not speak. A good time passed in silence, the old comrades in arms did not move or utter a sound, finally, Bongloader spoke: "The French, they have come."
Adoptagoat stared at Bongloader for a full second and then erupted in enormous laughter, his guards poked their heads in the room, the dogs in the yard began to bark and the roosters began to crow in the middle of the night. It took quite some time for the Old Lord to quiet down. Bongloader raised an eyebrow, then it began to dawn upon him. He began to speak, then halted. He began again, and could not get beyond one word. Finally, he arrived upon:
"The French Canadians."
"Fuck..."