SM> A hushed silence falls over the mess hall at CADB Calgary as Sgt. Stubby
 SM> MacPherson enters the hall, resplendant in full regalia, complete with
 SM> kilt, tam, sporran and the Sgt.'s great Claymore broadsword sheathed
 SM> across his chest.

I saw a guy like that in Phnom Penh the other day but they called him King.

 SM> Behind him, two dwarves groan under the weight of the giant platter
 SM> bearing the great haggis for the feast...

Here they eat averything that moves so what's new?

 SM> Sgt. MacPherson clears his throat, and prepares to recite the great bard's
 SM> words once again...

 SM> "Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
 SM> Great chieftain o the puddin'-race!
 SM> Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
 SM> Painch, tripe, or thairm:
 SM> Weel are ye wordy of a grace
 SM> As lang's my arm.

When did he learn to speak French?

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