Stimpy: Ren! Don't talk like that! Remember the Anthem of the Canadian Kilted Yaksmen! [Blows a note on his whistle] Our Country reeks of trees. Our Yaks are really large. And they smell like rotting beef-carcasses. And we have to clean up after them. And our saddle sores are the best. We proudly wear women's clothing and searing sand blows up our skirts. And the buzzards they fly overhead. And poisonous snakes will devour us whole. Our bones will bleach in the sun. And we will probably go to ["Hell" is censored] and that is our great reward for being the Roy-oy-al Canadian Kilted Yaksmen! Everybody!
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