THE PROTECTOR IS MY SHEPHERD.
I shall not sweat the small stuff.
It maketh me to lie down in the autodoc even though I feel fine.
It leadeth me beside distilled water.
It restoreth my soles and treateth my blisters.
It leadeth me out of the path of vehicles for its genes' sake.
Yah, though I walk through the valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no evil, for it belongeth to my grandma.
Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me. Also thy knife, thy sword, thy machine gun, thy laser, and that thing in the back room I'm not allowed to look at without the special goggles on.
Thou preparest a table for me in the presence of mine enemies. The stew looketh familiar.
Thou anointest my farm with insecticide.
My flup runneth over.
Surely Finagle and Murphy shall follow me in vain all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the protector as long as the sweet potatoes hold out.