Hibernicus took one look at the chickens, and then smiled at them. He had a bag of feed with him.

The bag of feed read 'Maximus's Grade A Chicken Feed: If they don't love it, then they're EVEN MORE f***ing retarded than usual!'

Hibernicus greeted his feathered friends in a sing-song voice.

'Helloooo, cluck cluckies! How are you today? Pater Patricus has bought you some nice food, yum yum yum!'

He took some grain from the bag, and put some in his mouth to show them so. Hibernicus was trying to do his best to show them that it tasted better than bread and honey. Fortunately, the acting lessons given him by his playwright Antigone had some positive effect, and he was able to hide the fact that the stuff tasted (to his palate) like sawdust.


'Mm mm mm! That's really good. It is yummy, it is tasty! Why don't you have a nice big dollop of feed?' Here he had a shit eating grin on his face, rubbing his tummy like he had just eaten a most excellent repast fit for the divine.

So far, all the chickens did was look at him quizzically.

Hibernicus looked to the heavens.

'O Great Mars Ultor. This is the last city in the rebellion. This is the last chance for our legions to show glory should the Nicopolitans not see the error of their ways. I have made preparations for battle, and ask if this is a good time to attack the city should the people of Nicopolis not surrender. I humbly ask this question once more, appreciative of the time you have given me before. I ask, should we attack the city?'

Hibernicus reached out of the bag and threw some grain on the ground. He gave the chickens a smile, and watched to see what they'd do...