The northerners totally aren’t Canadians. I promise.



All this mob lacks is Gaston to lead the way.

Lord Skärva will make off with your lunchmeat! He’ll come after it in the night! We’re not safe until HIS HEAD IS MOUNTED ON MY WALL!

Through the mist, through the woods
Through the darkness and the shadows
It’s a nightmare but it’s one exciting ride
Say a prayer, then we’re there
At the drawbridge of a castle
And there’s something truly terrible inside
It’s a beast! He’s got fangs
Razor sharp ones!
Four eyebrows, tiny feet, lo and hark!
Hear him roar! See him foam!
But we’re not coming home ’til he’s dead–
Good and dead!

Fifty Frenchmen Canadians Northern Idenians can’t be wrong.