King Richard provides another example of fool-headed animals snookered by a cheap crown. (Remember this one? How about this one?)
It's like he thinks he's actually in charge. Does he not wonder at the ascension of an overall-wearing clodhopper to the throne? Does he not know whence the ingredients for the boudin come? (Boudin, by the way, is a sausageal product popular, among other places, in the Bayou.) Does he not notice that the population of his squalid kingdom dwindles? Does he not see the humans with the knives behind their backs?
He is a useful puppet. Nothing more. After he has united the "people" beneath a sausage-colored banner—boudin comes in blanc, noir, and rouge varieties—they will be sacrificed. And when they're gone, it will be his turn to be hoisted upon the machinery of state and brought down to his ultimate level.
But who knows? Maybe he has sensed history unfolding about him. Maybe he has decided that serving as a temporary figurehead is worth it.
(Thanks to Dr. skeletonkrewe for the photo.)
Addendum: We can't tell. Is this young pig happy to be turned into living sausage? Or on the verge of tearful panic? He is not a vassal of King Richard's, so far as we know—just a miserable subject of some nameless boudin-based tyrant.