Along the airspace of Tokyo is a giant flying chicken, crowing with fervor. Atop the back of the giant chicken is the mad cock, Buckaroo Buck. A rooster wearing the body of man, unknown of origin and unknown of intent. A curiosity even amongst the odd world that they live in. The chicken is not even a real chicken, it is a construct made from tofu. Yet it acts as if it were a chicken, with specialized speech patterns that does not fall under the scope of the abnormal the mad cock had whispered sentience into the curds of soy. Raising an air walking mammoth, one that is about to lay massive eggs into the heart of the rising sun. Eggs that will mutate into bio-weapons grade natto, a smell that pirces through steel.