Line up, line up, you sorry wastes of pork!
Well, well. What do we have here? This is the most pathetic pile of meat I've even seen.
What do you think you're doing here, standing next to my beloved grill?
You pantywaists make me puke! Think you deserve this grill? You're not fit for scrapple, you gristly numbnuts!
If it was up to me, you'd be right back on that bus and driven home to Mama! Who'd wanna eat you, anyway? Flavor? You don't know the meaning of the word, maggots!
Now, my boss tells me I gotta work with you pissants. So that's what I'm gonna do! I'm gonna ride you! I'll be on you every second of the day! You don't shit until I say "shit." Am I understood? Do I make myself clear?
If by some miracle any of you morons listen to me and learn something, one day you might—I said might—be good enough to die for your country!