Ah am Gunnery Sergeant Apple Bloom, yer senior drill instructor. From now on y'all are only gonna speak when Ah speak to ya, and the first 'n last words outta yer filthy sewer mouths are always gonna be "ma'am." Do you maggots understand that? If'n you ladies leave mah island, if'n y'all survive recruit trainin', y'all will be a weapon. Y'all will be a minister of death prayin' fer war. But until that day y'all are pukes. Y'all are the lowest form of life in Equestria. Y'all ain't even equine fuckin' bein's. Y'all are nothing but unorganized grabastic pieces of amphibian griffin doo! Because Ah am hard, y'all ain't gonna like me. But the more y'all hate me, the more y'all 'r gonna learn. Ah am hard but Ah am fair. There ain't no racial bigotry here. Ah don't look down on stick heads, feather brains, mud ponies or shineys. Here y'all are equally worthless. And mah orders are ta weed out all non-hackers who don't pack the gear ta serve in mah beloved Corps. Do you maggots understand that?