Quak

Behold Ducktavious, sovereign of the Far Southern Kingdom, dread conqueror of Bethlmont the Dragon, whose thunderous tread doth shake the very earth and whose rising summons shadow upon the skies. He is no common fowl of pond or pasture, but a warrior forged upon a grim and blood-soaked road, a soul accursed to drift without end upon the Lake of Bitter Poison, ever seeking deliverance from the infernal abyss men call Blender. His golden plumage, hewn close unto his form in but a humble count of polygons, is all that remains of the splendor he once bore in ages of greater glory.

Yet now, noble traveler, fate places before thee a choice most grave.

For the modest tribute of $2.99, thou mayest lift Ducktavious from the grasp of the void-black night, release him from the silent torment of the blank scene, and grant unto him a new chapter filled with light, warmth, and noble adventure. Or, shouldst thou will it, thou mayest cast him once more into another realm of trial, there to battle still for but a fleeting glimpse of daybreak.

The choice, dear wanderer, is thine.