Ye ken, I had me the most exquisite shrubbery you’d ever lay yer oon eyes on. That was away back, ere I took an arrow to the Ni.
That left me a cryin’ wit me sheeps a spell. Ni was low days, doon ’n oot.
Eh, but ye cannit sit idle for evermore when there’s lassies to chase and arses to slap ‘n draughts to throo back, ’n more shrubberies teh have yet, so now I’m a schoonin to avenge me Ni, and I’ve fend a great dandy bunch of lads teh help me doo Ni.
We ride forth fearlessly and drunkfully, and I, Petticus, am oor 11st Chivalrous Bannerman, ye ken, wave’n oor All Yer Shrubs Arr Belong To Us! Standard with belch pride, Ach Aye!