Do not think that ye can hide thine heathen soul behind words of grace and poetry, oh evil one personified. Thee have yet to vounteer for the Wholly War of the Name of the Loaf, which is under dire threat from a group of marauding and spiritless possessed penguins. Should ye and the other faithful not accept this true mission in the name of the Loaf, thee are doomed to the feast of the flesh of the BabBazz and it's minions, thee shall howl with hatred as thy ribs are plucked out one by one for usage as firewood, ye shall curse the day of thine birth and the day of thine conception for thine parents could not see the torment to which they led thee, and ye shalt cry tears of pure scotch that shall trickle around thine lips, never to quench thy burning thirst.
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