Somewhere near Yellowknife, in a top-secret Coca-Cola fortified compound....
"Alright, men, this is it. Your training is over; you are the graduates of the most gruelling paramilitary regime ever formulated. You, a handful of the North's finest, are all that remains of the one hundred fresh-faced youths who applied to this programme only two years ago. It may seem like a lifetime ago, but believe me, it was necessary to make sure you actually live a lifetime.
"You may think you're the hot shit now, but let me tell you, you little pansies, you ain't seen Hell 'till you've seen the field. I'll be honest with you: -- Most of you aren't going to live past your first year in the field. Those of you who manage to survive will seen things no man should ever have to see.
"Last year alone, we lost thirteen men. That's more than a man a month. Although at first, from time to time, a man would manage to survive an attack, our enemy has grown so crafty, cunning, and downright cocky that they have the ruthlessness of serial killers. I remember the day I found my son, my own son, and by the time they had gotten through with him, I couldn't even recognise him. My son! They had to compare dental records. They... they had eaten his face. I swore, that day, that those bastards would pay.
"With all this danger comes glory, and with glory comes fortune. You are some of the highest-paid professionals in the world. Many of our finest soldiers -- and that's what you are now, really: soldiers -- some of our finest soldiers have retired from the Coca-Cola Corporation and started careers as bounty hunters and mercenaries, and I am constantly getting letters from some of the men I taught, thanking me for giving them the knowledge they needed to make a career of violence.
"Now you, too, stand at the dawn of a career in violence. Remember, this isn't about soft drinks or consumerism; -- this is about man versus beast, the eternal struggle which defines mankind's very identity. This is survival of the fittest in practice, might makes right -- and it has been my task to ensure that you are, indeed, the mighty. No one, man, beast, or Mother Nature herself, will be able to stop you.
"Oh, they might look cute on TV, sipping their stolen Cokes, smiling and watching fireworks and playing with their fluffy little cubs. But for every round of Cokes you see in their paws, there's a man I had to bury in the cold, hard ground.
"Gentlemen, you are now Coca-Cola's finest weapon against the bear menace. You are finely-tuned killing machines. Now go out there and kill a polar bear for me.
"I salute you."