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  • Rescues from the OLD, if Possible. When I can.

    Dark Rivers of the Heart
    #1highlander fan
    09-09-2003, 09:39 PM

    {CHAPTER 1:THE SEED IS PLANTED}


    He hovered over his 8th cup of coffee of the day. He didn't know what would give out first, his bowels or his patience. He pushed the report away and leaned his head back on the chair. The florescent light was on the blink again.
    He tapped his fingers on his skull and impatiently waited for a phone call.
    Patience was never one of Devon Michaels' strong suits. Of course being a Homicide detective for 13 years will do that to you.
    He picked up the report once more and jumped when the thunder boomed. great, another day of rain.”

    It had constantly rained for the last 72 hours, only stopping a few minutes here and there to give a false hope. He reached out and grabbed the report and held it up to the desk light once more.

    He shook his head in confusion. “What went wrong with this kid?” he whispered to himself.

    James Horton. 14 years old. Accused of murder. Decapitation.
    Family - father, recently deceased. Mother - where-abouts unknown.
    He looked at the small inserted picture. It was just a small innocent looking boy. Brown hair, slight freckles, seemingly intelligent.

    “How strange...” he thought. He looked over at the boy's psychological profile.
    He had never suffered any kind of mental problems. Up until 2 weeks ago, the kid was just an ordinary kid.
    Hell, He might grow up and become president one day.

    Doctor Kenneth Manson watched the young boy through the one-way looking glass.
    He scribbled notes on a piece of paper.
    The boy sat in a room with bolted down furniture and drew on a piece of paper.
    Dr.Manson stood silently, debating his next step. He sighed deeply and entered the room. The boy didn't look up, he just ignored the doctor altogether.
    The doctor sat down beside the boy.
    He watched intently as the boy gave him an obvious cold shoulder. He sat forward and put his hands on his knees.
    "So, James,are you hungry?"
    The boy stopped his drawing and looked at the doctor. He curled his lips and looked down.
    "You have to eat, James!"
    The boy became a little more anxious and started bearing down on his drawing.
    The doctor was a little befuddled by this. "Can I see what you're drawing,James?"
    The boy looked at the doctor and cocked his head. He then slid the piece of paper in front of the doctor. Dr.Manson smiled, then looked down at the drawing. He frowned and tilted his head.
    The picture depicted a man getting struck by lighting and holding a sword. Around him were dead bodies and one without a head. This made Dr.Manson cringe.
    He looked once more at the boy and swallowed hard. The boy was playing with his sneakers.
    "James, who is this?"
    The boy looked up. His lip trembled. "He's the one who killed my father!"
    The doctor stared intensely at the boy, seeking a lie in his voice or body language.
    "Ummm, James why is this man getting struck by lightning?"
    The boy looked up at the doctor and frowned. "He's not." The doctor was taken back by the response.
    He scanned the picture once more.
    "Yes, James, the picture you drew has the man getting struck by lightning."
    The boy shook his head. "It's not lightning!" he spat.
    The doctor felt a bit uncomfortable.
    He figured he would humor the boy a bit.
    "OK, James, It looks like lightning to me, can you tell me how I can be wrong?"
    The boy shrugged. "Lightning comes from the sky."
    The doctor cleared his throat. "So you're telling me this lightning didn't come from the sky, well then just where did it come from?"
    The boy seemed agitated by this question and sunk into the chair.
    The doctor noticed this as well.
    "James?"
    The boy pointed his finger at the headless man in the picture. "From him!"
    The doctor laughed. "The lightning came from the dead man, James?"
    The boy nodded his head.
    The doctor sighed. He rose from the table and walked over to the door. He looked back and the boy had begun to draw on a separate piece of paper. The doctor waited until an image formed. The doctor called out.
    "And what is that a picture of, James?"
    The boy held up the picture. It was a round circle with the letter W in the middle.
    The doctor raised an eyebrow.
    "And what is that a picture of?" he asked again.
    James seemed to go into a trance.
    "It was my father's tattoo".

    The doctor walked out of the room and scribbled on the pad of paper again.
    He then picked up a phone and called the Police station, and asked for Detective Devon Michaels.

    James Horton entered a small room. The walls were colored light blue. He noticed only one window. It was barred. He had heard of places like this from his friends at school, but had always thought they were exaggerating. The room was smaller than his bedroom at home.
    Nothing of it reminded him of home.
    The bed was no more than a cot with an olive green blanket draped around it. It had the smell of disinfectants. It made his nose burn. He was being escorted in by two burly orderlies. They seemed nice, but smelled of urine.
    He sat on the bed holding his only possession left in the world. A photo album, that he would not give up. One orderly, who bore his teeth marks on a hand, knew how badly. He flicked on a small desk lamp, but noticed no light bulb inserted in the socket.
    He brought the album over to the window. The shadows of the bars danced across his album. It was raining out, but the moonlight still shone through. He reached out for the pillow and placed it behind his back. He opened the book and read the transcription he had read a hundred times before.

    To James, from Mom and Dad. May these pictures in this album reflect a world of ever changing times, for they may be difficult at times but know that you don't walk alone, for we will walk with you. If you fall we shall pick you up, if you become lost we shall guide your way, and when you feel lonely, we are always beside you, love mom and Dad.

    Devon Michaels jumped when the phone rang, knocking his coffee on the desk as well as the reports. "$hit!!" God dammit!!"
    He moved the reports out of the way and reached for the phone. "Yeah?!" he called out.
    There was a moment of silence before he heard a voice. "Ummm Detective Devon Michaels please!" Devon tried to hold the phone under the crook of his neck while wiping up the spill. "Yeah this is he, what can I do you for?"
    "Yes, detective, this is Dr.Mason at the Fairhaven Psychotherapy Center" There was a pause, then: "You were the arresting officer for a boy named James Horton?"
    Devon threw the paper towels in his waste basket, but unfortunately, missed. "I'm cursed" he told himself.
    "Yes, Dr.Mason, I'm the arresting officer! So what did you find out?"
    Dr.Mason was very quiet, then he said, "Detective Michaels, this situation is a top secret priority, you understand?"
    Devon didn't like the politics of psychobabble, and did not like to involve himself in the affairs of doctors and scientists.
    "Listen, Mason, I don't really care about the ins and outs of all this, just tell me if ya want the kid transferred to juvie or not?"
    Another moment of silence. Devon could hear the doctor breathing heavy. Good, he'd pissed him off.
    "When will you be arriving to transfer the boy, Detective Michaels?" Mason sneered.
    Devon smiled to himself. "Tomorrow around noon. Make sure he's fed and had a potty run, OK,?"
    This time the silence was deafening. "Noon tomorrow then Detective!!"
    Mason hung up and Devon went to sit down on his chair. He looked at the clock. 10:37. Well time for a little trip to the ole pub.
    He got up, locked up his office, shut off the lights and strolled down the corridor.
    And a shadow from the darkest reaches of the corridor rose from the blackness. And followed Detective Devon Michaels.

    James Horton just turned 14, four months ago. As he looked in his picture album, he could remember that day so vividly.
    His dad had bought him a camera for his birthday. And James was so obsessed with taking pictures everything. The neighbors dog relieving himself on another neighbors lawn. His mother putting candles on the cake. His father on the phone..again.
    His father was on the phone a lot lately.
    Sometimes for hours at a time. And when he was not on the phone, he was having a party of sorts with a bunch of friends. Well, not friends exactly. They never went anywhere. Never bowling or to the baseball games, or anything like that. The just came over and ..talked. Once in a while he would leave on ..business trips, and would be gone for weeks. His father told him he worked in the real estate business, and had to go on company meetings once and a while.
    James new this was a lie. He would go into his fathers study when he was away and he discovered lots of things that one did not use to sell houses.
    One time he found 3 pistols. He could understand one for protection, but three?
    He one time found a box full of photo's of men and women with a red X across their faces. He wondered if his father was hitman.
    But then laughed at himself, cause his father was too kind and gentle for that.

    James stood by the barred window, now lit by the bright sunlight. His photo album opened to his 14th birthday.
    His father had been murdered and he knew not what had happened to his mother, but he vowed to find out. He just needed to get out of here first. He over heard Dr.Mason talking on the phone to a detective about transferring him to another place.
    He would make his move then. He grabbed a pencil from one of the orderlies that brought him breakfast. The tip sharpened.
    He would hunt down the man who killed his father. He would pay for what he did.
    James squeezed the photo album with all his might.

    Country music is awful. but it's a good way to wake up. Especially when the alarm clock is set to a country station, the volume turned up and the alarm clock is about 2 feet away.
    This, Devon Michael's used daily. It was the only thing that would get him up in the mornings.
    The drowning voice of Willie Nelson was like finger nails on a black board.
    Devon stumbled out of bed, banged his little toes against the bed post and hopped to the alarm clock.
    He fought for the buttons and felt he achieved another victory. And planned on celebrating that victory by rewarding himself with 5 more minutes of sleeping.
    He jumped back into bed and pulled the covers over his shoulders. The yelling and swearing of the neighborhood kids had him adding the pillow to his head for extra silence. Kids. "How can they be so cute and evil at the same time?" He wondered.
    He heard cap guns going off in the distance. It reminded him of his childhood, and the irony his future had taken. He always got the unfortunate luck at being the bad guy. It's too funny to think that 17 years later, he was an actual good guy. hmmm, good vs evil. Is there such thing? Are we all not evil at least once in our life? And doesn't that one evil deed make up for the last thousand good deeds?
    He pulled the cover off his body and sat up. He felt around for the remote. And in typical Devon Michael's style, knocked it off the night table and crashing to the floor, the batteries then rolling under the bed.
    "I think this is a sign to stay in bed" He told himself. And if right on cue, The scurrying foot steps of his St.Bernard could be heard coming his way.
    The dog burst through the room and jumped on Devon. The dog licked at his face furiously.
    Between coaxing and pleading Devon finally go the dog to calm down.
    "This, he told himself, is the reason why dogs are better than women!"
    An hour later after showering, shaving and walking Max, the wonder dog, he shouldered his gun and extra ammo clip and threw on his blazer.
    God, how he hated to dress up. He looked at himself in the mirror. He still had all his hair, which was good. He opened his mouth and inspected his teeth. Yup, all still there. He stared at himself intently. Not bad for a 36 year old man, who quit the gym and started his new diet of cheese sausages and croissants.
    Max was laid out in the backyard, content to just be alive. Devon smiled at this. He then began to frown. Today was the day he needed to transfer that kid. Jesus, and for a moment he thought it would be a nice quiet day. He hoped the kid would be nice and calm and not give him any problems.
    Then he remembered that night. When the kids father had been murdered.........

    FLASHBACK
    *********************************************
    He hated this, waiting outside a house for a fugitive to make his return. The contacts assured the operations detail that the fugitive would return tonight.
    Well he had waited for over 14 hours. He felt incredibly cramped in the car. His partner seemed so peaceful. He never moved or complained, just sat their sipping his now cold coffee. But Devon Michael's was not the peaceful or patient type. And his partner, Clyde Abrams,always criticized him about this.
    Devon Michael's brought the binoculars up to his eyes once more. He focused on the yellow brownstone house. Who paints their house yellow? He searched the windows from bottom to top. He lifted the binoculars to a house 6 feet away. The upper window was lit by inside lights. When he squinted hard enough he almost believed he could see the figure of a naked woman. But that was just hopeful thinking.
    He leered over to his right side, and noticed Clyde nodding off. Poor guy, he had been on this stake out for almost one full day.
    Devon looked into the rear view mirror and saw another parked car 100 feet away. This would be his backup. Maureen and Sandy.
    They were good cops. Straight edged and competent. If this loser did show up tonight, he would be contending with the best.
    He closed his eyes for a second, and was awakened by rain hitting his face. He jerked his watch to his face. Only two minutes went by. Thank god. Clyde was in deep sleep.
    It began to rain harder now. The sky totally blackened. Every few minutes streaks of lightning would illuminate the sky. He knew he needed to get out of the car. His legs had tightened up and would prove useless if he needed to run.
    He thought about waking Clyde, but that peacefulness on his face was classic.
    He grabbed Clyde's umbrella and slide out of the car. He figured he would pay the ladies a visit. He ran over to their car and both of them were wide awake.
    He knocked gently on the window and before he got one word out, Clyde was screaming at him from the car. He just nodded to the ladies and ran back. When he sat back in the car, Clyde had already a started it. Devon gripped the wheel, buckled himself in and stared at Clyde.
    "We have a homicide at Churchill avenue" Informed Clyde.
    That was all Devon needed to know. He peeled out and raced on over to Churchill Ave. Little did Devon know, that tonight would be a night of destiny. A night that would spawn evil. A night that would be consumed in vengeance. A night...his life would change.


    Devon Michaels had pulled up along the sidewalk and parked the car. He looked over at Clyde who was relighting a cigar. "You ready for this Clyde?" Clyde puffed a great big cloud of smoke. "I got a bad feeling about this one,Devon!"
    Devon opened his car door and stepped out. He popped his head back in. "You always have a bad feeling,Clyde!" He stated.
    Clyde grinned. "I know, but i got a REALLY bad feeling about this one"
    Devon ignored this and shut his door.
    He surveyed the area and sighed out loud.
    There were other police cars as well as ambulance drivers already on the scene. The place was a 3 story Colonial Villa. Very big and very expensive looking. Devon unbuttoned his blazer,which threw his badge into view.
    He walked over to an officer who was talking on a radio. The officer nodded and pointed to the direction of the entrance of the house. Devon waited until the officer was done talking into the radio.
    "Officer Taggert" Devon said with much respect. Taggert held out his hand and shook Devons vigoroulsy. "Detective michaels" Replied Taggert.
    Devon viewed the area and noticed a lone officer trying to apprehend a dog who had made the crime scene his new toilet. Taggert made a demand to get the dog out of there and get some ribbon around the area.
    "So, officer Taggert whats the word?" Whispered Devon.
    Taggert pulled off his hat and shook his head. "You won't believe this one,Detective".
    "Try me" Answered Devon.
    "Well it seems we got a murder and a half" Devon didn't like the sound of that. He had already had his share of mutilations. He stared at Taggert and shook his head. Taggert placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "No,son,its not like that" "It seems like someonekilled the owner of house, A man named Jonathan Horton, and his 14 year old son, had shot the killer"
    "Only thing is" Taggert paused. Devon tilted his head. Taggert took a deep breath and continued. "Only hting is, we don't have the body of the killer" "The boy swears he put over 10 bullets into the face and chest of his fathers killer" "But unless the guy was Superman,he should be a corpse"
    The first thing Devon noticed was the first rate security system installed within the house. His brother was into alarm systems, and he knew this guy must have gone for a good $2000.00.
    Devon walked into the foyer and by habit dragged his feet on the rug. A memory swept through his mind and he smiled.
    ~Aunt Gertrude one time making him wash the floor when he and his cousin Oscar ran through it one summer afternoon,when he was about 10, after jumping in the bogs. Man, they were filthy from head to toe.~

    He walked by a huge mirror and almost jumped out of his shoes when he saw the image that reflected back. He had been a lot healthier when he was still married to Janette**. He sighed deeply and scanned the foyer. One forensic agents was scraping some substance into a plastic bag. Devon walked over.
    The man, who was on one knee noticed the shadow hovering above him. He looked back and hissed. "Hey could you get out of my light,Bub?"
    Devon moved out of the way and for a slight moment flet like playing a little soccer with this guys head. Devon knelt down next to the agent. "Detective Michaels, homocide" He stated.
    The agent looked at him and shrugged. "I'm happy for ya" The agent spat.
    Devon tried his best to keep his anger in check. He looked at the asian carpet which they both knelt on. Devon thought the price of the carpet itself could feed a Country for a week.
    He noticed a large blood stain in the middle. He pointed to it and asked whos it was. The agent sighed heavily. "It's a mix of both, the owner of the house and someone else's we don't know"
    Devon raised an eyebrow at this. Well i guess they really did have a mystery man after all. But with no dead body it would get swept under the rug.
    Devon looked at the agent and smirked. "You have a nice day now, ya hear" He said sarcastically.
    The agent just looked up and held out his middle finger. Devon smirked again. He got up on both his feet and walked away, whispering just loud enough for the agent to hear him. "No need to show me your I.Q., a$$hole!"

    He waited in the shadows,becoming one with the night. He pulled a cigarette from his mouth and flicked the burning embers to the ground. He held up a small pair of binoculars and spied into the buildings windows.
    At times when the moon light would hit just right ,he could catch the silhouette of the boy. There he was cowering, within the depth of the room. But the boy could not cower deep enough, cause he was darkness.
    He was night. He was all those things, that go bump in the night. He laughed at his own jingle.
    He lit a new cigarette with the old and stood there, contemplating the next day.
    The policeman would surely fulfill his obligations and transport the boy. Good. It would make planning so much easier.
    He pulled out a sword from within his jacket. The blade gleamed in the moonlight. The handle, which adorned tiny ruby crosses, glowed a stigmatic type crimson. He stuck out his tongue and ran it across the blade, making the blade itself lined with a red stream.
    He stared back once more at the window, and saw the boys face. His eyes all so innocent. His soul now corrupted. Tomorrow he would join the day of the dead.


  • #2
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    Duncan MacLeod and
    The Stone Chicken
    Astrochick
    Davis-Panzer own themselves and the denizens of the Immortal universe. Monty Python owns the warped concept behind this mis-adventure, and the various living persons parodied in this piece of offal are their own problem. Nothing is sacred here -- everyone and everything is subject to a good-natured ribbing. People with no sense of humor should leave now and never look back, lest I taunt them some more . Massive injokes abound, including references to Clan Denial, the Rysher Forum, the Big List, the Richie List, the Methos Harem, and a plethora of other pieces of flotsam and jetsam in the Highlander fandom. Thanks to Mary Ellen and Valerie for attempting to beta read this monstrosity -- good luck!

    Note - I'm working from the transcription of MP'sHG found at deadlink


    *************************************************

    Scene 1:

    [The plains of somewhere in Europe]
    [Music - "Who Wants to Live Forever"]
    [wind]
    [clop clop clop]

    A man with long, wild dark hair dressed in traditional Highland garb and a man dressed in a yellow sweater, glasses, smoking a cigar approach from the distance.

    Duncan: Whoa there!
    [clop clop clop]

    Soldier #1: Halt! Who goes there?

    Duncan: Och, do yew not know me? I am Duncan MacLeod, son of Ian, from the Highlands. Avatar of Goodness, Lover of women, Star of this show!

    Soldier #2: Pull the other one!

    Duncan: I am, ... and this is my trusty producer, Panzer. We have ridden the length and breadth of this universe in search of Immortals who will join me in angst-filled existence in Paris. I must speak to your lord and master.

    Soldier #1: What? Ridden on a horse?

    Duncan: Aye!

    Soldier #1: You're using Tupperware!

    Duncan: Wot?

    Soldier #1: You've got two Tupperware quart-size bowls and you're bangin' 'em together.

    Duncan: So? We have ridden since the beginning of Season 1, through the wilds of Vancouver, through --

    Soldier #1: Where'd you get the Tupperware?

    Duncan: From the Prop department.

    Soldier #1: From the Prop Department? Now? Tupperware's modern!

    Duncan: Wot do ye mean?

    Soldier #1: Well, this is a flashback!

    Duncan: Och, look. The script called for singing Tibetan bowls, but they make a gawd-awful racket when ye bang 'em together, so the Prop department substituted Tupperware. It's only a symbol anyway!

    Soldier #1: Are you suggesting Tupperware is native to the 16th century?

    Duncan: Not at all. It could be imported.

    Soldier #1: From where? New Jersey?

    Duncan: It could be fashioned by gypsies.

    Soldier #1: It's not a question of how it gets here! It's a simple matter of technology! 16th century technology cannot manufacture 20th century Tupperware!

    Duncan: Well, it dae not matter. Will ye go and tell your master that Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod is here?

    Soldier #1: Listen. In order for the show to maintain its credibility, we have to avoid anachronisms, right?

    Duncan: Please!

    Soldier #1: Am I right?

    Duncan: I'm not interested!

    Soldier #2: It could be used in the Vancouver scenes!

    Soldier #1: Oh, yeah, in a Vancouver scene, maybe, but not a flashback scene. That's my point!

    Soldier #2: Oh, yeah, I can agree with that.

    Duncan: Will you ask your master if he wants to join my barge on the Seine?!

    Soldier #1: But then of course -- Tupperware is *American*.

    Soldier #2: Oh, yeah.

    Soldier #1: So, they wouldn't use real Tupperware anyway.

    [clop clop clop as Duncan and Panzer leave in disgust]

    Soldier #2: Wait a minute! Suppose the Producers bring it with them from LA?

    Soldier #1: No, they'd have to get it through customs.

    Soldier #2: Well, simple! They'd smuggle it in.

    Solder #1: What, held under their trench coats?

    Soldier #2: Well, why not?

    Scene 2:

    [A tattooed man dragging a cart slowly makes his way though the death and decay of a squalid Paris suburb]

    [thud]
    [clang]

    Watcher: Bring out your dead Immies!
    [clang]
    Bring out your dead Immies!
    [clang]
    Bring out your dead Immies!
    [clang]
    Bring out your dead Immies!
    [cough cough ....]
    [clang]
    Bring out your dead Immies!
    [clang]
    Bring out your dead Immies! Ninepence.
    [clang]
    Bring out your dead Immies!
    [clang]
    Bring out ...
    [baaaaaa!!!!!!!]
    ... your dead Immies!
    [baaaaa!!!!!!!]
    [clang]
    Bring out your dead Immies!

    HIGHLA-L: Here's one.

    Watcher: Ninepence.

    Dead Immie: I'm not dead!

    Watcher: What?

    HIGHLA-L: Nothing. Here's your ninepence.

    Dead Immie: I'm not dead!

    Watcher: 'Ere. He says he's not dead!

    HIGHLA-L: Yes, he is.

    Dead Immie: I'm not!

    Watcher: He isn't?

    HIGHLA-L: Well, he will be soon! It's in the script!

    Dead Immie: Clan Denial says I don't hafta die!

    HIGHLA-L: Well, yes you do. You're going to be a pinata in a moment.

    Watcher: Oh, I can't take him like that. It's against regulations.

    Dead Immie: I don't want to go to the racetrack!

    HIGHLA-L: Oh, don't be such a baby! It's an honor to be a gratuitous plot device!

    Watcher: I can't take him.

    Dead Immie: I feel fine!

    HIGHLA-L: Well, do us a favor.

    Watcher: I can't.

    HIGHLA-L: Well, can you hang around until after the commercial break? He won't be long.

    Watcher: No, I've got to get over to "End of Innocence". Had three whacked!

    HIGHLA-L: Well, when are the next reruns?

    Watcher: In a few months.

    Dead Immie: Hey, anyone hungry? I'm hungry. Whaddya say we all go out for a cheeseburger?

    HIGHLA-L: You're not fooling anyone, you know. Look. Isn't there something you can do?

    Dead Immie: [singing off key] "Foolish Games...."

    [whop as his head goes flying off]

    HIGHLA-L: Ah, thanks very much.

    Watcher: Not at all. See you in reruns.

    HIGHLA-L: Right. All right.
    [baaaaa!!!!!]
    [clop clop clop as Duncan and Panzer pass by]
    Who's that, then?

    Watcher: I dunno. Must be the hero.

    HIGHLA-L: Why?

    Watcher: He's still got his head!

    Scene 3:

    [Duncan and Panzer approach a huddled figure working in a field]
    [thud]
    ["Bonnie Portmore"]
    [thud thud thud]
    ["Bonnie Portmore" ends]

    Duncan: Mac Wench!

    Athos: Haremite!

    Duncan: Haremite, sorry. What Immortal lives in that castle over there?

    Athos: I serve the BFLGOTT

    Duncan: I -- what?

    Athos: I serve the Blue Faced Love God of the Tent ... in his harem. I'm not a Mac Wench.

    Duncan: Well, I couldn't just call you 'Haremite.'

    Athos: Well, you could say 'Athos.'

    Duncan: Well, I didn't know you were called 'Athos.'

    Athos: Well, you didn't bother to find out, did you?

    Duncan: I did say 'sorry' about the Mac Wench, but from behind you looked --

    Athos: What I object to is that you automatically treat me like a fan of yours!

    Duncan: Well, I am the hero.

    Athos: Oh, hero, eh, very nice. And how'd you get that, eh? By exploiting the other characters! By whacking their heads off when they weren't looking in abandoned racetracks. If there's going to be a viable spin-off with the franchise --

    Mike: Athos, there's some lovely blueberries down here. Oh! How d'ya do?

    Duncan: How do ye do, good sir. I am Duncan, your Avatar. Who's castle is that?

    Mike: Our what?

    Duncan: Avatar ... of the Forumlanders.

    Mike: Who are the Forumlanders?

    Duncan: We all are ... if you post on the Rysher Forum. We are the Forumlanders ... and I am Your Avatar.

    Mike: I didn't know we had an Avatar. I thought this was an ensemble cast.

    Athos: You're fooling yourself. We're living in a dictated fandom: an angst-perpetuated hierarchy in which the Methos fans --

    Mike: Oh there you go, bringing the ROG into it again.

    Athos: That's what it's all about. If only people would admit --

    Duncan: Please! Please, good people. I am in haste. Who lives in that castle?

    Athos: The Harem lives there.

    Duncan: Then who is your lord?

    Athos: I told you, Death on a Horse.

    Duncan: What?

    Athos: I told you. We're a Methos-based commune. We take it in turns to act as sort of hostess for the week, ...

    Duncan: Aye.

    Athos: ... but all members of the Harem get equal turns entertaining his Blue-ness ...

    Duncan: Aye, I see.

    Athos: ... and we take care to make sure no one's feelings are hurt, ...

    Duncan: Be quiet!

    Athos: ... or anyone feels slighted at having less than their share of attention from our Master ...

    Duncan: Be quiet! I order yew to be quiet!

    Mike: Order, eh? Who does he think he is? Heh.

    Duncan: I am your Avatar!

    Mike: Well, I didn't vote for you!

    Duncan: You don't vote for Avatars!

    Mike: Well, how did you become Avatar, then?

    Duncan: Some crazed archaeologist, ...
    [cheesy horror movie music]
    ... his arm extended towards me, stopped me on my way home from the opera and asked if I was Duncan MacLeod. He said that I was the only one who could defeat this evil.
    [cheesy horror movie music stops]
    That is why I am your Avatar!

    Athos: Listen, Zoroastrian demons are no basis for an episode of a science fiction show based on Judeo-Christian theology. Good plotlines involving Immortals center around the Game and the Gathering.

    Duncan: Be quiet!

    Athos: Well, but you can't expect to wield some supreme executive power just because some whacked old fruit anointed you the Chosen One!

    Duncan: Shut up!

    Athos: I mean, if I went 'round saying that I was a world savior just because some senile old professor doodled by name in his notebook, they'd put me away!

    Duncan: Shut up, will yew! Shut up!

    Athos: Ah, now we see the angst inherent in the system!

    Duncan: Shut up! [grabs Athos by her collar]

    Athos: Oh! Come and see the angst inherent in the system! Help! Help! I'm being relegated to sidekick status!

    Duncan: Bloody Methosian!!!!!!

    Athos: Oh, what a give-away. Did you hear that? Did you hear that, eh? That's what I'm on about. Did you see him repressing me? You saw it, didn't you? Next thing you know, I'll end up in Eurominutes!

    [Duncan and Panzer ride away in disgust.]

    Scene 4:

    [The foot of a bridge]

    ["Bonnie Portmore"]
    [music stops]

    Kronos: Aaaaaagh!!!!!

    ["Bonnie Portmore"]
    [music stops]

    Kronos: Aaaagh!

    Opponent: Ooh!

    ["Bonnie Portmore"]
    [music stops]
    [stab]

    Kronos: Aaaaagh!

    Opponent: Ooh!
    ["Bonnie Portmore"]
    Ooh!
    [music stops]

    Kronos: Aaaagh! [clang]

    Kronos and Opponent: Agh! Oh! etc.
    [Kronos takes Opponent's head. A Quickening ensues.]

    Kronos: Ahhh!
    [clop clop clop]

    Duncan: Yew fight with the strength of many men, Sir.
    [pause]
    I am Duncan MacLeod, of the Clan MacLeod.
    [pause]
    I seek the finest and noblest Immortals in the land to join me on my barge in Paris.
    [pause]
    Yew have proven yourself a worth secondary character. Will yew join me?
    [pause]
    Yew make me sad. So be it. Come, Panzer.

    Kronos: What makes you think I'll let you pass, Highlander?

    Duncan: I have no quarrel with yew, good Sir, but I must cross this bridge.

    Kronos: Then you shall die.

    Duncan: I command you, as Champion of the Millennium, to stand aside!

    Kronos: Who are you to tell me what to do?

    Duncan: So be it!

    [Duncan and Kronos fight. Duncan cuts Kronos' left arm off.]

    Duncan: Now stand aside, worthy adversary.

    Kronos, laughing evilly: 'Tis but a scratch.

    Duncan: A scratch? You arm's off!

    Kronos: That didn't stop Xavier!

    Duncan: Aye, but that was only his hand!

    Kronos: I've had worse.

    Duncan: You liar!

    Kronos: Come on, Kiltboy!

    [More fighting. Duncan cuts Kronos' right arm off.]

    Duncan: Victory is mine!
    [kneeing with katana in hand]
    Father, I am worthy to be your son ...

    Kronos: Hah!
    [kick]
    Come on, then!

    Duncan: What?

    Kronos: Have at you!
    [kick]

    Duncan: You are indeed brave, Sir, but the fight is mine.

    Kronos: Oh, had enough, eh? You've gone soft, Highlander!

    Duncan: Look, you stupid bastard. You've got no arms left!

    Kronos: Yes, I have.

    Duncan: Look!

    Kronos: Just a flesh wound. A true Horseman doesn't need arms.
    [kick]

    Duncan: Look, stop that.

    Kronos: Some champion!
    [kick]
    Sheepboy!

    Duncan: Look, I'll have yer leg.
    [kick]
    Right!
    [whop]
    [Duncan chops off Kronos' right leg.]

    Kronos: Right. You'll pay for that, Highlander.

    Duncan: I'll wot?

    Kronos: Come here!

    Duncan: What are yew going to do, bleed on me?

    Kronos: I am the End of Time!

    Duncan: You're history!

    Kronos: The Horsemen always triumph! Have at you! Come on, then.
    [whop]
    [Duncan chops off Kronos' left leg.]

    Kronos: Oh? All right, we'll call it a draw.

    Duncan: Come, Panzer.

    Kronos: Oh. Oh, I see. Running away, eh? You kilted bastard! Come back here and take what's coming to you. I'll bite your head off!

    Scene 5:

    [Monks dressed in red robes, carrying Season 1 tapes]

    Monks: [chanting] Season Six it really reeks, except that glimpse of Richie's cheeks.
    [bonk]
    Season Six it really reeks, ...
    [bonk]
    except that glimpse of Richie's cheeks.
    [bonk]
    Season Six it really reeks, ...
    [bonk]
    except that glimpse of Richie's cheeks.

    Crowd: A bitch! A bitch!
    [bonk]
    A bitch! A bitch!

    Monks [chanting]: Season Six it really reeks, ...

    Crowd: A bitch! A bitch! A bitch! We've found a bitch! Burn her! Burn her!

    Forumlander #1: We have found a bitch. May we burn her?

    Crowd: Burn her! Burn her!

    Fitz: How do you know she's a bitch, good chap?

    Forumlander #2: She looks like one.

    Crowd: Right! Yeah! yeah!

    Fitz: Bring her forward then.

    Anne: Look, I'm not a bitch. Okay, so I know I'm not always that easy to get along with ... and I nag a lot ... but I'm NOT a bitch -- honest!

    Fitz: But you are dressed like one, dear lady!

    Anne: They dressed me up like this.

    Crowd: Augh, we didn't! We didn't ...

    Anne: And these aren't my suede boots. They belong to the costume department!

    Fitz: Well?

    Forumlander: Well, we did do the boots.

    Fitz: Boots?

    Forumlander #1: And the miniskirt, but she is a bitch!

    Forumlander #2: Yeah!

    Crowd: We burn her! Right! Yeeeeeah!

    Fitz: Did you dress her up like this?

    Forumlander #1: No!

    Forumlander #2 & #3: No. No.

    Forumlander #2: No.

    Forumlander #2 & #3: No.

    Forumlander #1: Yes.

    Forumlander #2: Yes.

    Forumlander #1: Yes. Yeah, a bit.

    Forumlander #3: A bit.

    Forumlander #1: She has got a nasty pouty face.

    Random: [cough]

    Fitz: What makes you think she is a bitch?

    Forumlander #3: Well, she bit my head off.

    Fitz: Bit it off?

    Forumlander #3: I got better.

    Forumlander #2: Burn her anyway!

    Forumlander #1: Burn!

    Crowd: Burn her! Burn her! ...

    Fitz: Quiet! I say, Quiet, all of you! There are ways of telling whether she is a bitch.

    Forumlander #1: Are there?

    Forumlander #2: Ah?

    Forumlander #1: What are they?

    Crowd: Tell us! Tell us!...

    Fitz: Tell me. What do you do with bitches?

    Crowd: Burn! Burn them up! Burn!...

    Fitz: And what do you burn apart from bitches?

    Forumlander #1: More bitches!

    Forumlander #3: Shhh!

    Forumlander #2: Marshmallows!

    Fitz: So, my good man, why do bitches burn?
    [pause]

    Forumlander #3: B --... 'cause they're made of ... marshmallows?

    Fitz: Good show!

    Crowd: Oh, yeah. Oh.

    Fitz: So, how do we tell whether she is made of marshmallow?

    Forumlander #1: Build smores out of her.

    Fitz: Ah, but do you not also make smores out of graham crackers?

    Forumlander #2: Oh, yeah.

    Fitz: Do marshmallows resist the blade?

    Forumlander #1: No, no.

    Forumlander #2: No, no, you can chop them.

    Forumlander #1: Throw her in the blender!!!!

    Fitz: What also chops under the blade?

    Forumlander #1: Bread!

    Forumlander #2: Bricks!

    Forumlander #3: Uh, your friend's neck

    Forumlander #1: Jello chocolate pudding!

    Forumlander #2: Uh, churches! Churches!

    Duncan: Cheese.

    Crowd: Oooooh.

    Fitz: Exactly. So, logically ...

    Forumlander #1: If ... she .... weighs ... the same as cheese ... she's made out of marshmallow ...

    Fitz: And therefore?

    Forumlander #1: A bitch!

    Crowd: A bitch! A bitch!

    Wallace: Here's some cheese ... a nice Wensleydale.

    [Grommit reluctantly hands over a large hunk of cheese]

    Wallace: Cheese is our speciality.

    Fitz: Right-O, we'll use my largest scale.

    Crowd: Burn her! Burn her!

    Fitz: Remove the supports!

    [whop]
    [clunk]
    [creak]
    [scale balances]

    Crowd: A bitch! A bitch!

    Anne: And he wasn't even *that* good in bed.

    Crowd: Burn her!!!

    Fitz: I say, who are you who are so wise in the ways of dairy products?

    Duncan: I am Duncan MacLeod, of the Clan MacLeod.

    Fitz: I say! The Highlander himself!

    Duncan: Good Sir, will yew come with me to Paris and join us at my barge?

    Fitz: Parisian women? I would be a fool to turn it down!

    Duncan: What is yer name?

    Fitz: Hugh Fitzcairn.

    Duncan: Then I dub you Fitz, favorite dead Immortal of the Paris flashbacks.

    ---------------------------------------------------------

    Narrator: The wise Fitzcairn was the first to join Duncan's side, but other illustrious names were soon to follow: Connor the brave, Richie the not-so-pure, and Methos the-not-so-brave-as-Connor, who had thought about fighting the Dragon of Agnor, who had nearly stood up to the vicious Chicken of Bristol, and who had personally downed a case of beer at the Battle of Badon Hill, and the aptly named "I'm-not-French-and-was-never-cheap-spin-off-character-not-appearing-in-this-film." Together they formed a band whose names and deeds were to be retold in reruns: the friends of the Highlander.

    -------------------------------------------------------

    Scene 6:

    [clop clop clop]

    Fitz: And that, dear chap, is how we know the earth to be bosom-shaped.

    Duncan: Aye, this new learning amazes me, Fitzcairn. Explain again how yew can make beer from sheep?s .....

    Connor: Duncan -- look!

    [trumpets]

    Duncan: the barge!

    Richie: the barge!

    Connor: the barge (heh heh heh)

    Panzer: it?s only rented for the Paris scenes

    Duncan: Shhh. Friends, I bid yew welcome to your new home. Let us board ... the barge!

    [inside the barge]

    Immortals: [singing]

    We?re friends of the Highlander,
    The toys of Davis-Panzer.
    We kill with swords, electric cords,
    and even a belt sander.
    Fight at a track or in a crypt
    As long as it?s found in the script.

    [dancing]

    We?re friends of the great hero,
    Our IQ?s can be forced to zero.
    We wear bad wigs and drink like pigs
    And party like King Nero
    We suffer any useless plot
    Because this gig is all we?ve got.

    [over in next barge]

    Maurice: [quickly collecting things he borrowed from Duncan?s barge]

    [in barge]

    Immortals: [tap dancing]

    In flashbacks we?re so stupid
    Our lessons learned so vapid
    But here and now, we know just how
    To avoid a death too rapid
    And if we goof and whack a chum

    Immortal: Malaysia, baby, here we come!

    Duncan: Och, on second thought, I need to have the barge redecorated. Let?s go to Joe?s.

    Immortals: Right. Right.

    Scene 7:

    [clop clop clop]
    [boom boom]
    [baaaaaaaaaaaa]

    Cassandra: Duncan! Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod! Oh, stop pouting!
    [bleating stops]
    One thing I can?t stand , it?s lower lips stuck out and quivering.

    Duncan: Sorry.
    [boom]

    Cassandra: And don?t apologize! Everytime I try to talk to someone it?s ?sorry I?m looking at your nails,? or ?pardon me, but I can?t stop talking to your chest? and ?excuse me, but is that REALLY your hair??
    [boom]
    What are you doing now?

    Duncan: I?m crossing my eyes -- that?s how yew can tell I?m thinking evil thoughts.

    Cassandra: Well, don?t. It?s depressing -- like those miserable Horseman flashbacks -- gawd I should have taken my OWN head. Now, knock it off!

    Duncan: Yes, your whore-ness.

    Cassandra: Fine. Duncan, Child of Darkness and Light ... you and your friends shall fulfill a prophecy in these dark times.

    Duncan: Och, are they going to cancel ?The Raven? already?

    Cassandra: Of course! I would have made a damn fine spin-off bitch! Now behold! [baaaaaaaaaa]
    Duncan, this is the stone chicken. Now, I know it looks like a pazuzu, but it?s really a zoroastrian demon named Ahriman and he?s really pissed at you.

    Duncan: Wot did I do?

    Cassandra: You?re looking for a rational explanation? Look, Duncan, this is your purpose -- the quest for the Stone Chicken.
    [boom]
    [bleating stops]

    Connor: A quest! A quest from the Witch of Donan Woods!

    Richie: Can we stop at Mickey D?s on the way? I?m hungry.

    Scene 8:

    [Bonnie Portmore] [clop clop clop] [Group approaches a castle]

    Duncan: Halt! [red fog] Hello! [pause] Hello!

    Horton: Hello. Who are you?

    Duncan: It is Duncan MacLeod, of the Clan MacLeod. Whose castle is this?

    Horton: This is the castle of my master, Set ... Ahriman ... everything your people call demons and devils.

    Duncan: Go and tell your master that we have been charged by Cassandra with a sacred quest. If he will give us food and shelter for the night, he can join us on our quest for the Stone Chicken.

    Horton: Do you really think he would help *your* kind, Highlander? Besides, he's already got one.

    Duncan: Wot?

    Richie: I'm sorry, Mac, but he says he's already got one!

    Duncan: Are you sure he's got one?

    Horton: Oh yes, indeed. He's got one. As a matter of fact, it's a rather nice one. [I've told him we already have one.]

    Demons: [chuckling]

    Duncan: Well, u--um, can we come up and have a look ourselves?

    Horton: Of course not -- we know all about you, you abominations before nature!

    Duncan: Well, what are you then?

    Horton: I'm a figment of your imagination ... a projection of countless years of angst, judging others, and bad wardrobe choices. Why do you think I'm the man you can't kill?

    Duncan: Wot are yew doing in a comedy piece then?

    Horton: That is none of your business, Highlander.

    Duncan: If yer do not give us the Stone Chicken, we shall take your castle by force!

    Horton: You do not frighten us, you filth upon the face of the earth! Go and cut each others heads off, you corruption of humanity! I laugh at your pretense of superiority, Highlander, you and all your pitiful "Immortals." Ppffftttt!!!!! Ppfffttttt! Ppffffttt!!!!

    Richie: Mac, all this talk of chicken's making me hungry....

    Duncan: Now look here, I have no quarrel with yew ...

    Horton: I refuse to listen to your lies and excuses, you failure as a Champion. I existed before time began, and I shall exist after all semblance of logic has disappeared from this lame plotline. All that matters is that you cannot stop me.

    Richie: Maybe we can use their phone to order pizza?

    Horton: No. Now leave this place, or I shall taunt you a second time.

    Duncan: Now, this is yer last chance. I've been more than reasonable.

    [Demons ignore him] [rustling noises]

    Duncan: If yew do not agree to my commands, then I shall --

    [twong] [video tapes rain down on them]

    Jesus Christ!

    Immortals: AAAACK! [thud] [they examine the tapes] "The Zone"? "Revenge of the Sword"? "Avenging Angel"? "Avatar"? "The Best of Dr. Anne"? Arrgghh!!!!!!

    Duncan: Right! Charge!!!

    Immortals: Charge!!!

    [mayhem ensues]

    Horton: This one is for you, Highlander! [catapults "The Best of Duncan Whacking his Friends"]

    Duncan: Run away!

    Immortals: Run away!!!!

    Demons: PPPfftttt!!!!!!!! [taunting]

    Connor: Fiends! I'll tear them apart!

    Duncan: No, no, no.

    Fitz: MacLeod, I have a plan.

    [later]

    [wind] [saw saw saw saw saw] [clunk] [bang] [other construction noises]

    [A giant wooden sheep is pushed up to the gates.]

    Demons: [whispering] What is this? They're our friends ... they're not our friends? [bring sheep into castle]

    Duncan: Well, wot now?

    Fitz: It's simple, old chap! Connor, Richie and I wait until nightfall and then leap out of the sheep, taking the demons by surprise! Not only by surprised, but without benefit of Eurominutes!

    Duncan: Who leaps out?

    Fitz: U--u--uh, Connor, Richie and I, uh, leap out of the sheep, uh, and ...

    Duncan: [shakes head] Och!!!!!!

    Fitz: Well, you can't expect me to be right all the time, MacLeod! Look, if we build this large wooden twinkie ...

    Richie: Stop mentioning food! I'm starving!!!! Don't you guys ever get hungry?

    [clank] [twong]

    Duncan: Run away!!!!!

    Immortals: Run away!!!! Run away!!!!!

    [Immortals scatter as the large wooden sheep flies through the air and lands on one poor Immortal.]

    Stan: Oh my God, they've killed Kenny!!!

    Kyle: You bastards!!!!!

    Scene 9:

    [clack]

    Voice: Demons for Dummies, take eight.

    Dennis Berry: Action!

    Professor: Defeat at the castle seems to have utterly disheartened Duncan MacLeod. The ferocity of the demon's onslaught took him completely by surprise, as did the strange juxtaposition of Egyptian and Zoroastrian demonology. Of course, MacLeod was aware that both religions are part of the same dualistic Western tradition of the separation of good and evil. Thus, having consulted with his friends, and someone who actually knows something about Zoroastrianism, he wisely decided that an Eastern strategy of Buddhist meditation and Malaysian baton twirling (being based on monistic traditions) would be totally inappropriate here.

    [clop clop clop]

    Now, this is what the Immortals did: Connor--

    K'Immie: Aaaaaah!!!!! [slash] [K'Immie kills Professor]

    Professor's colleague: Kris !!!!!!

    Scene 10:

    [sound of a beer being opened]

    Narrator: The Tale of the Really Old Guy. So, each of the Immortals went their own separate ways. Methos staggered north, sorta, through the bar district, accompanied by his favorite minstrels.

    Minstrels: [singing off key]

    Ninety nine drunken ROGS in the bar,
    Ninety nine drunken ROGS.
    Sit one down, slap him around,
    Ninety eight drunken ROGS in the bar.

    Methos: Will you stop that! I am *not* drunk, I'm just enjoying myself ... as much as anyone can in this mindless parody.

    Athos: [passing by] Blue face paint is too a recognized aphrodesiac!

    Mike: Only with certain segments of the female population ....

    All Heads: Halt! Who art thou!

    Minstrels: [singing off key] Louis Louis, ohhh ohhhh, we gotta go. Yeah yeah yeah yeah.

    Methos: Shut up! My name is NOT Louis!

    Minstrels: No, man, we gotta use the can!

    Methos: [rubbing hand over face] I told you to use the facilities in the last bar!

    All Heads: What do you want?

    Minstrels: To use the Men's room!

    Methos: To find a steep cliff to push these morons off of!

    All Heads: I'm afraid you're out of luck - there's only women allowed in the chateau ... except for the Master of course.

    Left Head: Although, you know, Sus, he looks an awful lot like the BFLGOTT!

    Right Head: [leans down and peers at Methos] Damn! So he does, Lady Hawke!

    Methos: I do? I mean, of course I do!

    Middle Head: Yeah, why didn't we notice that right away! Put a little facepaint on him and a bad wig, and he'd be the spitting image of our master! [pause] Only one thing to do then, Sus.

    Right Head: What's that, Dragon Lady?

    Middle Head: Kill him, of course!

    Methos: Wait a minute ... you want to kill me for having such a handsome face?

    Middle Head: There can only be one ... ROG that is! We will accept no substitute!

    Right Head: Get the sword out, Lady Hawke. I want to cut his head off.

    Left Head: Oh, cut your own head off!

    Middle Head: Yes, do us all a favor!

    Right Head: What?

    Left Head: Only kidding ... but you do yap all the time. And the sheep jokes are getting old.

    Right Head: I thought you liked my sheep jokes?

    Middle Head: We do ... but in moderation!

    Left Head: Yes ... that's it .... in moderation, Sus. Look, let's stop quibbling and have some beer.

    Right Head: Can we kill him first and *then* have a beer?

    Left Head: Sounds good to me! Whack the imposter first, and then beer. The Master will be pleased!

    Middle Head: [looks around] Damn ... he buggered off!

    Left Head: Shhh ... I thought this parody was slash-free!

    Right Head: [perks up] Did someone say 'slash'?

    Left Head: Great, Dragon Lady, now you've got her going again! ...

    [Methos and minstrels rush off]

    Minstrels: [singing] I ... wanna rock and roll all night ... and party every day ....

    Methos: Will you keep it down! We don't want them following us!

    Minstrels: [singing] Living ... after midnight .... rocking to the dawn ....

    Methos: Don't you ever take a break?

    Mintrels: [singing] We are the champions, my friend ....

    Methos: I never thought I'd be sick of Queen ....

    Scene 11:

    [trumpets]

    Narrator: The Tale of the Studlander

    [boom] [wind] [howl] [sound of a stomach growling] [boom] [wind] [howl] [pound pound pound]

    Richie: Open up! Open up! [pound pound pound] Hey! Let me in! It's pouring out here!

    [creak]

    Ladies in Red: Hello!

    Mary Ellen: Welcome, hot stuff! Welcome to the Castle Denial!

    Richie: The Castle Denial?

    Mary Ellen: You were expecting something else? Look, did you catch the name of the author of this parody? Get yer butt in here before you catch pneumonia!

    Richie: You got a cheeseburger maybe? I'm starved!

    Mary Ellen: [sarcastically] Yeah, and I bet you want fries with that, right? If you're lucky we might still have some chicken wings in the kitchen left over from the "Chivalry" party.

    Richie: Wings, I love wings! [smacks self in head]. Chicken! Dammit! That's why I came here! Damn, damn after Methos kills me Mac's gonna kill me all over again! Or ... is it the other way around ....

    Mary Ellen: What the hell are you babbling about? You need to sleep it off. Silvia!!!!! JoAnne!!!!!

    Silvia and JoAnne: Yes, O Bitch!

    Mary Ellen: Make a bed for this idiot! If he gets sick, Mom is gonna be really upset.

    Silvia and JoAnne: Oh merci!!!! Grazie!!!!

    Mary Ellen: Yeah, yeah, you can thank me later.

    Richie: Mom's here?

    Mary Ellen: Of course! She's always in the middle of everything!! Look, what's yer name?

    Richie: Richard H. Ryan ... but you can call me Richie.

    Mary Ellen: H .... what the hell does the H stand for, horny? Headless?

    Richie: Hell if I know.

    Mary Ellen: I'm Mary Ellen, but you can call me ME.

    Richie: Great, hi ME. Where's the Stone Chicken?

    Mary Ellen: [shaking head and muttering to herself] As long as he doesn't ask me if I'm from NY *again*.

    Richie: I know it's here! I saw it!

    Mary Ellen: You want those chicken wings or not? Make a decision!

    Richie: Well, er ... I ...

    Mary Ellen: Thought so. Typical male. Food and sex, food and sex ... that's all they care about. Feed 'em, sleep with 'em. Typical. Good thing we're all hedonistic pigs here. Booze, chocolate, booze, sexual fantasies, adult fanfic, booze, slo-motions of "Chivalry," strange obsessions with bathing clones .... I know you must think we're sick, but it's really all quite harmless. Really! [sees dirt]. See there, you're dirty. You need a bath! Lie here for a minute.

    Richie: No, it's okay ....

    Mary Ellen: Don't argue with me. Lie down! [clap clap]

    Laura: What seems to be the trouble? Ooohhhhhh .... he's dirty!!!!!!

    Richie: They're *bathers*?

    Mary Ellen: Yeah .... amongst other things!

    Richie: But ..... but ....

    Mary Ellen: C'mon, don't be such a wuss. You think they haven't already done everything possible to their clones? Laura! Valerie! Practice your art.

    Valerie: Try to relax, big boy!

    Richie: Are you sure I'm gonna get those chicken wings after this?

    Laura: Yes ... but first we must bathe you.

    Richie: Um ... well ... I guess I could use a good scrubbing.

    Valerie: I knew you'd see it our way.

    Richie: Okay ... just a short bath ... then the wings ... then .... Crap, I can't do this. Look, where's the Stone Chicken? [tries to get up]

    Laura: Get your cute little butt back here!

    Richie: I can't, ladies, really! I must find the Stone Chicken! [starts poking around the castle] I know it's around here somewhere ...

    [finds the rest of the Red Ladies]

    Ladies: Hello!

    Richie: Oh!

    Misha, Bair, Vikki, Susie, Laura H., SMAP, Marie, Mary, D'Ar, Chey, Lottie, Debra, Kin, Sele, Terry, Lynn ..... : Hello!!!!!!!!

    Richie: Mary Ellen!!!!

    AC: No, I'm ME's bitch twin, AC.

    Richie: Oh, well, excuse me, I --

    AC: Where are you going?

    Richie: I'm have to find the Stone Chicken! I've seen it here! In this castle!

    AC: Oh, no! Bad ME!!!! Bad, bad, ME!!!!

    Richie: What's wrong?

    AC: Oh, wicked, bad, naughty ME! She's been setting alight to our beacon, which, I have just remembered, is Stone Chicken-shaped! It's not the first time we've had this problem.

    Richie: It's not the real Stone Chicken?

    AC: Oh, wicked, bad, naughty, evil ME! She is a bad person and must pay the penalty! And here in the Castle Denial, we have but one punishment for setting alight the Stone Chicken-shaped beacon: you must tie her down on a bed and cover her with Reddi Wip!

    Ladies: Reddi Wip!!! Reddi Wip!!!!

    AC: You must cover her well, and after you have covered her, you may deal with her as you like, and then, cover me with Reddi Wip!

    Misha: And me .....

    Susie: And me .....

    Vikki: And me ....

    AC: Yes, you must give us all a good Reddi Wipping!!!!

    Ladies: Reddi Wip! Reddi Wip!!!!! There's going to be Reddi Wip tonight!!!!

    AC: And after the Reddi Wip ..... the group kiss!

    Richie: Well, I could stay a little longer.

    [Connor bursts in]

    Richie: Damn! Sir Lancelot!

    Connor: Come on, kid, let's get you out of here.

    AC: What the hell do you think you're doing?

    Connor: I'm saving him from your grubby paws.

    AC: He doesn't seem to want to be saved.

    Richie: She has a point there.

    Connor: Shut up, kid.

    AC: In case you haven't noticed, he's not a kid.

    Richie: Yeah, I'm not a kid! I'm perfectly able to take care of myself.

    Connor: [muttering to self] I told Duncan you'd need watching.

    Richie: I can handle this just fine without you!

    Ladies: Yes! Let him handle us! Let him handle us finely!

    Connor: I don't think so. Come on, Richie. Let's go.

    Richie: Aw, can't we just stay for some wings?

    Connor: No, we'll stop at Denny's on the way back. [drags Richie out of there]

    Richie: Don't you old guys ever get horny?

    ****************************************
    Narrative Interlude:

    Narrator: Connor had saved Richie from almost certain whipped creaming, but they were still no nearer the Stone Chicken. Meanwhile, Duncan and Fitzcairn, not more that a Tupperware?s toss away, had discovered something. Oh, that?s a Salad Keeper?s toss away, obviously, I mean, they were more than two Sandwich Keeper?s toss away -- four, really if there were actually a sandwich in it. I mean, if Tupperware had really existed in the 16th century --

    Crowd: Get on with it!

    Narrator: Oh, anyway. On to scene 12, which is a smashing scene with some lovely angst, in which Duncan discovers a vital clue, and in which there isn?t any Tupperware, although there is a gratuitous Twinkie reference -- ooh!

    ****************************************

    Scene 12:

    Hermit: Heee, heee, ha ha heee heeee! We've been with nay plot for 12 scenes now. But that's over.

    Duncan: And this Watcher of whom you speak, he has seen the Stone Chicken?

    Hermit: [sing song voice] He is the one who will tell you what you need to know.

    Duncan: Where does he live?

    Hermit: [sing song voice] You will know soon enough.

    Duncan: Crazed-Hermit-who-is-the-only-true-Monty-Python-character-in-this-parody, where does he live?

    Hermit: [sing song voice] When your time comes you must be prepared to face an evil beyond any you can imagine.

    Duncan: Aye, I?ve already worn the bad wig in flashbacks for six seasons now. Just tell me wear he lives.

    Hermit: [sing song voice] He knows of a cave ... a cave which no man has entered.

    Duncan: And the Stone Chicken is there?

    Hermit: [sing song voice] Seek yew the Bridge of Twinkies ... I mean Death.

    Duncan: The Bridge of Death, which leads to the Stone Chicken?

    Hermit: My road is ending but yours has far to go ... heed well my warning, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod .....

    Scene 13:

    [spooky music] [music stops]

    Head Knight: Beige!

    Knights: Beige! Beige! Beige! Beige! Beige! Beige!

    Duncan: Who are yew?

    Head Knight: We are the Knights Who Say ... ?Beige?!

    Duncan: Och, no ... not the Knights Who Say ?Beige?!

    Head Knight: The same!

    Fitz: Who are they?

    Head Knight: We are the keepers of the sacred words: ?Beige?, ?Red Herring?, and ?Plot Hole?!

    Knights: ?Plot Hole!?

    Duncan: Those who hear them seldom live until the end of the episode!

    Head Knight: The Knights Who Say ?Beige? demand a sacrifice!

    Duncan: Knights of Beige, we are but simple inconsistent characters who seek the Watcher who lives beyond these woods.

    Head Knight: Beige!

    Knights: Beige! Beige! Beige! .....

    Duncan: Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Argh!!!

    Head Knight: We shall say ?beige? again to you if you do not appease us.

    Duncan: Well, wot is it you want?

    Head Knight: We want .... a flashback! [dramatic music]

    Duncan: A wot????

    Knights: Beige! Beige! Beige!

    Immortals: Ow! Ow!

    Duncan: Please, no more! We will find you a flashback.

    Head Knight: You must return here with a flashback, or else, you will never pass through this wood .... alive.

    Duncan: Oh Knights of Beige, you are just and fair, and we will return with a flashback.

    Head Knight: One that?s historically accurate.

    Duncan: Of course.

    Head Knight: And with nice costumes.

    Duncan: Yes.

    Head Knight: Now .... go!

    Scene 14:

    Narrator: The Tale of Sir Same-Clan-Different-Vintage

    Mama: Danny, one day this will all be yours.

    Cimoli: What, your lasagna recipe?

    Mama: No. Not the recipe, Danny. All that you can see, stretched out over the hills and valleys of this land. This will be your kingdom, Danny -- once you win the Prize.

    Cimoli: But Mommy ....

    Mama: It?s Mama, Danny, Mama.

    Cimoli: But Mama, I don?t want any of that.

    Mama: Danny, listen to me. I worked my hands to the bone for thirty years making a nice home for us. Your father, God rest his soul, dropped dead at work trying to earn enough to give us a comfortable life. Thank God he had the sense to get a good life insurance policy. Now this castle is ours, Danny. And when I go to meet your father, this will all be yours. All you need is to win the Prize, and you will have ultimate power.

    Cimoli: But I don?t care about any of that. I?d rather --

    Mama: Rather what?

    Cimoli: Practice my magic [pulls out rubber chicken]

    Mama: Stop that! Stop that! You?re not going to go into a cheap magic routine while I?m here. Now listen, Danny. In twenty minutes you?re getting married to a girl who can help you distract all those other Immortals so you can cut their heads off with no trouble.

    Cimoli: But I don?t want to cut peoples? heads off.

    Mama: Listen, Danielle ...

    Cimoli: Danny.

    Mama: Danny, you couldn?t fight if your life depended on it -- and it does! You need all the help you can get.

    Cimoli: But I don?t like her.

    Mama: Don?t like her? What?s wrong with her? She?s beautiful, she?s Scottish, she?s got huge ... assets.

    Cimoli: I know, but I want the girl I marry to appreciate ... my special talents ... [pulls out another rubber chicken]

    Mama: Cut that out! Cut that out! Look, you?re marrying THAT Andi so you?d better get used to the idea! [smack] Guards! Make sure Danny doesn?t leave this room until I come and get him.

    Alis: Not to leave the room until someone beheads him.

    Andy: Hic!

    Mama: No, no. Until I come and get him.

    Alis: Until you come to behead him, we?re not to enter the room.

    Andy: Hic!

    Mama: No, no. No. You stay in the room and make sure he doesn?t leave.

    Alis: And you?ll come and get him.

    Andy: Hic!

    Mama: Right.

    Alis: And we don?t do anything but stop him from beheading himself.

    Mama: No, no, No. Leaving the room.

    Alis: Leaving the room. Yes.

    Mama: All right?

    Alis: Right.

    Andy: Hic!

    Alis: Oh, if -- if -- if, uh, if---if---we--

    Mama: Look, it?s quite simple.

    Alis: Uh.....

    Mama: You just stay here and make sure he doesn?t leave the room. All right?

    Andy: Hic!

    Mama: Right.

    Alis: Oh! I remember. Uh, can we behead him?

    Mama: No. You just keep him in here and make sure he --

    Alis: Oh, yes. We?ll just keep him in here, obviously, but if he had to be beheaded and we were with him ...

    Mama: No, no, no, no. Just keep him in here --

    Alis: Until you or somebody else --

    Mama: No, not anyone else. Just me.

    Alis: Just you.

    Andy: Hic!

    Mama: Get back.

    Alis: Get back.

    Mama: All right?

    Alis: Right. We?ll stay here until you get back.

    Andy: Hic!

    Mama: And make sure he doesn?t leave.

    Alis: What?

    Mama: Make sure he doesn?t leave.

    Alis: Danny?

    Mama: Yes, Make sure he doesn?t leave.

    Alis: Oh, yes, of course.

    Andy: Hic!

    Alis: I thought you meant her. You know, it seemed a bit daft me having to behead her when she?s not an Immortal.

    Mama: Guard you mean.

    Alis: Yes, yes, guard.

    Danny: But Mama!!!!!

    Mama: Shut your noise, you! And get that suit on!!!!! And no magic!!!!!!

    Andy: Hic!

    Mama: And stop drinking on the job!

    [Mama leaves, Danny writes a SOS message and shoots it out the window on an arrow.]

    Scene 15

    Connor: Well taken, Mikey!

    Mikey: Mikey follows real good.

    Connor: And again! Over we go! Good. Steady! And now, the big one! Uuh! Come on, Mikey!

    [thwonk - arrow strikes Mikey in the chest]

    Mikey: Mikey got message for you. [fwump]

    Connor: Mikey! Mikey! Speak to me! 'To whoever finds this note: I have been imprisoned by my mama, who wishes me to marry against my will. Please, please, please come and rescue me. I am in the Tall Tower of Swamp Castle.' At last! A call! A cry of distress! This could be the sign that leads us to the Stone Chicken! Brave, brave Mikey, you shall not have died in vain!

    Mikey: Mikey not going to see King of Trains.

    Connor: Well, you shall not have been mortally wounded in vain!

    Mikey: Mikey feel better now.

    Connor: Oh, I see.

    Mikey: Mikey come with you to castle.

    Connor: No, no, sweet Mikey! Stay here! I will send help as soon as I have accomplished a daring and heroic rescue of the beautiful maiden.

    Mikey: Maiden trip of the Coastline Zephyr, April 15, 1857.

    Connor: Mikey, I shall avenge your death.

    Mikey: Mikey wasn?t hurt by bad man.

    Connor: Farewell, sweet Mikey!

    Mikey: Okay, Mikey stay here.

    Scene 16

    [inside castle]
    Andi and CDE: [giggle giggle giggle]

    [outside castle]
    Guest: 'Morning!

    Sentry #1: 'Morning.

    Sentry #2: Oooh.

    Sentry #1: [ptoo]

    Connor: Ha ha! Hiyya!

    Sentry #2: Hey!

    Connor: Hiyya!, Ha!, etc.

    Andi and CDE: [giggle giggle giggle]

    Connor: Ha ha! Huy!

    Guests: Uuh! Aaah!

    Connor: Ha ha! And take this! Aah! Hiyah! Aah! Aaah! Hyy! Hya! Hiyya! Ha!...

    Alis: Now, you're not allowed to enter the room-- aaugh!

    Connor: O fair one, behold your humble servant, Connor MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. I have come to take y-- Oh, I'm terribly sorry.

    Danny: You got my note!

    Connor: Uh, well, I-- I got a-- a note.

    Danny: You've come to rescue me!

    Connor: Uh, well, no. You see, I hadn't--

    Danny: I knew someone would. I knew that somewhere out there... [music - ?Send in the Clowns?]

    Connor: Well, I--

    Danny: ...there must be... someone...

    Mama: Stoppa that! Stoppa that! Stoppa it! Stoppa it! Who are you?

    Danny: I'm your son, Mama!

    Mama: No, not you.

    Connor: Uh, I am Connor MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, madam.

    Danny: He's come to rescue me, Mama.

    Connor: Well, let's not jump to conclusions.

    Mama: Did you kill all those guards?

    Connor: Uh... Oh, yes. Sorry.

    Mama: They cost fifty pounds each!

    Connor: Well, I'm awfully sorry. Um, I really can explain everything.

    Danny: Don't be afraid of her, Connor. I've got a rope all ready.

    Mama: You killed eight wedding guests in all!

    Connor: Well, uh, you see, the thing is, I thought your son was a lady.

    Mama: I can understand that.

    Danny: Hurry, Connor! Hurry!

    Mama: Shut uppa you face! You only killed the bride's father, that's all!

    Connor: Well, I really didn't mean to...

    Mama: Didn't mean to?! You put your sword right through his head!

    Connor: Oh, dear. Is he all right?

    Mama: You even kicked the bride in the chest! And that cleavage is considered sacred.

    Connor: Well, I can explain. I was in the forest, um, riding north from the barge, when I got this note, you see--

    Mama: Barge? Are you the Highlander?

    Danny: Hurry, Connor!

    Connor: Heh heh heh, I?m a clansman of Duncan -- better vintage.

    Mama: Very nice franchise, Highlander. At least before Season Six.

    Connor: Is it?

    Danny: Hurry! I'm ready!

    Mama: Would you, uh, like to come and have a drink?

    Connor: Well, that-- that's, uh, awfully nice of you,...

    Danny: I am ready!

    Connor: ...um, I mean to be so understanding.

    [thonk] Um,... [woosh]

    Danny: Oooh!

    Connor: ...I'm afraid when I'm in flashbacks, I sometimes get a bit, uh, sort of carried away.

    Mama: Oh, don't worry about that.

    Danny: Oooh! [Danny is pushed out of window by Mama]

    Scene 17

    Guests: [crying]

    Mama: Well, this is the main hall. We're going to have all this knocked through and made into one big, uh, living room for when the family from Sicily comes to visit.

    Guest: There he is!

    Mama: Oh, mama mia!!!!

    Connor: Heh heh heh. There Can Be Only One! [slices through crowd with his katana]

    Mama: Hold it! Stop it! Hold it! Hold it! Hold it! Hold it! Hold it! Please!

    Connor: Sorry. Sorry. You see what I mean? I just get carried away. Must be the testosterone -- either that or my kilt is too tight. I'm really most awfully sorry. Sorry! Sorry, everyone.

    Guest #1: He's killed my friend!

    Guests: I thought only Duncan did that?

    Mama: Hold it! Hold it! Please! Hold it! This is Connor MacLeod from the movies AND series, a very brave and influential star, and my special guest here today.

    Connor: Hello.

    Guest: He killed Richie!

    Guests: Who hasn?t!

    Mama: Please! Please! This is supposed to be a happy occasion! Let's not bicker and argue about who killed who. We are here today to witness the union of two young people in the joyful bond of the holy wedlock. Unfortunately, one of them, my son Danny, has just fallen to his death. May his soul rest in peace.

    Guests: Oh! Oh, no!

    Mama: But I don't want to think I've not lost a son, so much as... gained a daughter! [clap clap clap] For, since the tragic death of her father--

    Guest #2: He's not quite dead!

    Mama: Since the near fatal wounding of her father--

    Guest #2: He's getting better!

    Mama: For, since her own father, who, when he seemed about to recover, suddenly felt the icy hand of death upon him.

    Bride?s Father: Uugh!

    Guest #2: Oh, he's died!

    Mama: And I want his only daughter to look upon me as her old mama, in a very real and legally binding sense. [clap clap clap] And I feel sure that the merger-- er, the union between THAT Andi and the brave, but dangerous, Connor MacLeod--

    Connor: What?

    Guest #2: Look! The dead comic!

    Guests: Oooh! The dead comic!

    Mikey: Danny no go see King of Trains either.

    Danny: No, I feel much better.

    Mama: You fell out of the Tall Tower, you creep!

    Danny: No, I was saved at the last minute by my magic.

    Mama: What?

    Danny: Well, I'll show you. [music]

    Mama: Not like that! Not like that! No! Stop it!

    Guests: [singing] He's going to show! He's going to show!...

    Mama: Shut uuup!

    Guests: [singing] He's going to show!...

    Mama: Shut up!

    Guests: [singing] He's going to show!...

    Mama: Shut up!

    Guests: [singing] He's going to show!...

    Mama: Not like that!

    Guests: [singing] He's going to show us all the trick, he's going to show us all the trick...

    Mikey: Mikey hungry.

    Guests: [singing] He's going to show!...

    Mikey: Can Connor take a train ride?

    Guests: [singing] He's going to show us all the trick, he's going to show us all the trick...

    Connor: No -- I need something classier -- like a flying skateboard.

    Guests: [singing] He's going to show us all a magic trick ....

    Connor: I must escape from .... [sigh]

    Guests: [singing] Oh, he fell without his red cape

    Mikey: Zeist Express, runs across the northern shore of Germany.

    Connor: Zeist!!!!!

    Guests: [singing] But still he made a great escape...

    Connor: Heh heh heh! [crash] Hoo!

    Guests: [singing] What a wonderful escape!

    Connor: Excuse me. Could, uh-- could somebody give me a push, please?

    Scene 18

    [Bonnie Portmore]
    [clop clop clop]
    [baa! baa! baa! baa! baa! baa!]

    Duncan: Old crone!
    [baa!]
    [music stops]
    Is there anywhere in this town where we could buy a flashback?
    [dramatic chord]

    Old Crone: Who sent you?

    Duncan: The Knights Who Say 'Beige'.

    Old Crone: Aggh! No! Never! We have no flashbacks here.

    Duncan: Och, if yew do not tell us where we can buy a flashback, my friend and I will say... we will say... 'beige'.

    Old Crone: Agh! Do your worst!

    Duncan: Very well! If yew will not assist us voluntarily,... beige!

    Old Crone: No! Never! No flashbacks!

    Duncan: Beige!

    Old Crone: [cough]

    Fitz: Ecru!

    Duncan: No, no, no, no, I--

    Fitz: Ecru!

    Duncan: No, it's not that. It's 'beige'.

    Fitz: Ecru!

    Duncan: No, no. 'Beige'. Yew are not doing it properly. No.

    Fitz: Beige!

    Duncan and Fitz: Beige!

    Duncan: Aye, that's it. That's it. You've got it.

    Duncan and Fitz: Beige!

    Old Crone: Ohh!

    Fitz: Beige!

    Duncan: Beige!

    Old Crone: Agh!

    Fitz: Beige!

    Duncan: Beige!

    Fitz: Beige!

    Duncan: Beige!

    Fitz: Beige!

    David Abramowitz: Are you saying ' Beige' to that old woman?

    Duncan: Erm,... yes.

    David Abramowitz: Oh, what sad times are these when passe characters can say 'beige' at will to old ladies. There is a pestilence upon this land. Nothing is sacred. Even those who arrange and design flashbacks are under considerable economic stress at this period in history by tightwad distributors.

    Duncan: Did you say 'flashbacks'?

    David Abramowitz: Yes. Flashbacks are my trade. I am a writer. My name is David Abramowitz, head creative consultant. I arrange, design, and write flashbacks.

    Fitz: Beige!

    Duncan: No! No, no, no! No!

    Scene 19

    Duncan: O Knights of Beige, we have brought yew your flashback. May we go now?

    Head Knight: It is a good flashback. I like the costumes particularly,... but there is one small problem.

    Duncan: Wot is that?

    Head Knight: We are now... no longer the Knights Who Say 'Beige'.

    Knights of Beige: Beige! Shh!

    Head Knight: Shh! We are now the Knights Who Say 'I'm-your-friend-I'm-not-your-friend'.

    Random: Beige!

    Head Knight: Therefore, we must give you a test.

    Duncan: What is this test, O Knights of-- knights who till recently said 'beige'?

    Head Knight: Firstly, you must find... another flashback! [dramatic chord]

    Duncan: Not another flashback!

    Random: Beige!

    Head Knight: Then, when you have found the flashback, you must place it here beside this flashback, only slightly earlier so you get the two- level effect with a little angst interlude down the middle.

    Knights of Beige: Angst! Angst! Angst! Beige! Shh! Knights of Beige! Beige! Beige! Shh! Shh!...

    Head Knight: Then, when you have found the flashback, you must fill up the biggest plot hole in Season Six... with... a red herring! [dramatic chord]

    Knights of Beige: A red herring!

    Duncan: We shall dew no such thing!

    Head Knight: Oh, please!

    Duncan: Fix Season Sux with a single red herring? Someone?s in denial.

    Knights of Beige: Aaaaugh! Aaaugh!

    Head Knight: Augh! Ohh! Don't say that word.

    Duncan: Wot word?

    Head Knight: I cannot tell, suffice to say is one of the words the Knights of Beige cannot hear.

    Duncan: How can we not say the word if you deny telling us wot it is?

    Knights of Beige: Aaaaugh!

    Head Knight: You said it again!

    Duncan: What, 'is'?

    Knights of Beige: Agh! No, not 'is'.

    Head Knight: No, not 'is'. You wouldn't get very far in life not saying 'is'.

    Knights of Beige: No, not 'is'. Not 'is'.

    Fitz: My liege, it's Methos!

    Minstrel: [singing] He is drinking in bars and drinking in cars
    In mugs, and jugs, and mason jars
    And chugging down beers and passing out dead,
    Yes, surely large hangovers knock in his head.

    Duncan: Methos!

    Methos: Bloody hell, MacLeod! These damn minstrels deny me any peace and quiet!

    Head Knight: Now he's said the word!

    Duncan: Surely you've not given up your quest for the Holy Grail?

    Minstrel: [singing] He is sneaking away and buggering up--

    Methos: Shut up! Would it do any good to deny that right now?

    Head Knight: He said the word again!

    Knights of Beige: Aaaaugh!

    Methos: I?m not usual big on denial ....

    Knights of Beige: Aaaaugh!

    Methos: But there?s a first time for everything.

    Duncan: I never thought yew wud deny me, Methos.

    Knights of Beige: Aaaaugh!

    Head Knight: Aaaaugh! Stop saying the word! The word...

    Duncan: Oh, stop it! Can yew see Methos needs help with his denial? This is a dangerous path.

    Head Knight: ...we cannot hear! Ow! He said deny again!

    Duncan: Panzer!

    Head Knight: Wait! I said it! I deny I said it!

    [clop clop clop]

    Ooh! I deny I said it again! And there again! That's three ?denies?! Ohh!

    Knights of Beige: Aaaaugh!...

    ************************************************** *
    Narrative Interlude

    Narrator: And so, Duncan and Fitzcairn and the ROG set out on their search to find the Watcher of whom the old man had spoken in scene twelve. Beyond the forest, they met Connor and Richie, and there was much rejoicing.

    Immies: Yay! Yay! [woosh]

    Narrator: In the desert plains of Yuma, they were forced to eat Methos? minstrels.

    Minstrels: [high-pitched] Get back! Eee!

    Narrator: And there was much rejoicing.

    Immies: Yay!

    Narrator: A year passed.

    Midget: [shivering]

    Narrator: Winter changed into Spring.

    Midget: Mmm, nice.

    Narrator: Spring changed into Summer.

    Midget: Oh. Ahh.

    Narrator: Summer changed back into Winter,...

    Midget: Oh?

    Narrator: ...and Winter gave Spring and Summer a miss and went straight on into Autumn, because nobody could keep straight what year it was due to that lost 12 months in Malaysia.

    Midget: Aah. [snap] Oh! Waa! [beheaded by falling tree limb]

    Narrator: Until one day...

    ******************************************

    Scene 20

    [Bonnie Portmore music]
    [clop clop clop]
    [music stops]
    [boom]

    Immies: Eh. Oh. See it? Oh. Oh.

    Duncan: Friends! Forward!
    [boom boom boom boom boom]
    [squeak]
    [boom boom boom boom]
    [A lone figure in a tacky wool jacket shoots a gun at beer cans]
    What manner of man are you that can summon up fire without flint or tinder?

    Joe: I... am a Watcher.

    Duncan: By what name are you known?

    Joe: There are some who call me... Dawson

    Duncan: Greetings, Dawson the Watcher.

    Joe: Greetings, Duncan MacLeod!

    Duncan: You know my name?

    Joe: I do.
    [boom]
    I know damn near everything about you. You seek the Stone Chicken!

    Duncan: That is our quest. Yew know much that is hidden, O Dawson.

    Joe: Yeah.
    [pweeng boom]
    [clap clap clap]

    Methos: Oh. I hope those were empties.

    Duncan: Yes, we're-- we're looking for the Stone Chicken. Our quest is to find the Stone Chicken.

    Immies: Yeah. Yes. It is. It is. Yeah. Yup. Yup. Hm. Mm.

    Duncan: And so, we're-- we're-- we're looking for it.

    Fitz: Yes, we are.

    Richie: Yeah. After we find a Burger King.

    Methos: And the nearest bar.

    Fitz: We have been for some time.

    Methos: Ages.

    Fitz: Umhm.

    Duncan: Uh-- uh, so, uh, anything that yew could do to, uh-- to help... would be... very... helpful.

    Richie: Look, can you tell us where-- [boom]

    Duncan: Fine. Um, I don't want to waste any more of your time, but, uh, I don't suppose yew could, uh, tell us where we might find a, um-- find a, uh-- a, um-- a, uh--

    Joe: A what...?

    Duncan: A ch-- a-- a ch-- a ch-- a-- a ch--

    Joe: A chicken?!

    Duncan: Yes, I think so.

    Methos: If we must.

    Duncan: Yes.

    Richie: And a Denny?s.

    Immies: That's it...

    Joe: Yes!

    Methos: And don?t forget the bar!

    Duncan: Oh. Thank you.

    Methos: Ahh.

    Richie: Oh. Fine.

    Duncan: Thank you.

    Methos: Bloody excellent.

    Immies: Aah... [boom pweeng boom boom]

    Duncan: Look, um, yew are a busy man, uh--

    Joe: Yes, I can help you find the Stone Chicken.

    Immies: Oh, thank you. Oh...

    Joe: To the north there lies a cave-- the cave of Drooling-- wherein, carved in waterproof runes upon the very saliva-soaked rock, the last words of Silk Bedwear of Rhed... [boom] ...make plain the last resting place of the Stone Chicken.

    Duncan: Where could we find this cave, O Dawson?

    Joe: Follow. But! Follow only if you are men of valour, for the entrance to this cave is guarded by a creature so foul, so cruel that no man yet has fought with it and lived! Bones of full fifty Forumlanders lie strewn about its lair. So, brave Immortals, if you do doubt your courage or your strength, come no further, for death awaits you all with nasty, big, pointy teeth.

    Duncan: What an eccentric performance.

    Scene 21

    [clop clop clop] [whinny whinny]

    Richie: They're nervous, Mac.

    Duncan: Then we'd best leave them here and carry on on foot. Dis-mount!

    Joe: Behold the cave of Drooling!

    Duncan: Right! Keep me covered.

    Richie: With what, Mac?

    Duncan: W-- just keep me covered.

    Joe: Too late! [dramatic chord]

    Duncan: What?

    Joe: There she is!

    Duncan: Where?

    Joe: There!

    Duncan: What, behind the Fru?

    Joe: It is the Fru.

    Duncan: Yew silly sod!

    Joe: What?

    Duncan: Yew got us all worked up!

    Joe: Well, that's no ordinary Fru!

    Duncan: Ohh.

    Joe: That's the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered, red-shirted fanatic you ever set eyes on!

    Methos: You tit! I spilled my beer I was so scared!

    Joe: Look, that Fru's got a vicious streak a mile wide! It's a killer!

    Richie: Riiiiiiiight

    Joe: She'll rip you a new asshole, buddy.

    Richie: Oh, yeah?

    Methos: You drunk Watcher!

    Joe: I'm warning you!

    Methos: What's she do, nibble your bum?

    Jo: She's got huge, sharp-- eh-- she can leap about-- look at the bones!

    Duncan: Go on, Benny. Chop her head off!

    Benny: Right! Not a problem. One Fru stew comin' right up!

    Joe: Look!

    [Benny struts up to the Fru. Fru starts babbling about characterization rape, Henry Jenkins, and monism versus dualism. Benny?s eyes roll back and his head explodes]

    Benny: Aaaugh! [dramatic chord] [clunk]

    Duncan: Jesus Christ!

    Joe: I warned you!

    Methos: I?ve done it again!

    Joe: I warned you, but did you listen to me? Oh, no, you knew it all, didn't you? Oh, it's just a harmless little Fru, isn't it? Well, it's always the same. I always tell them--

    Duncan: Oh, shut up!

    Joe: Do they listen to me?

    Duncan: Right!

    Joe: Oh, no...

    Immies: Charge!

    [more enthusiastic babbling from the Fru]

    Immies: Aaaaugh!, Aaaugh!, etc.

    Duncan: Run away! Run away!

    Immies: Run away! Run away!...

    Joe: Ha ha ha ha! Ha haw haw! Ha! Ha ha!

    Duncan: Right. How many did we lose?

    Connor: Kit.

    Richie: Marcus Constantine.

    Duncan: And Benny. That's five.

    Richie: Sorry, Mac -- that?s three ... three friends.

    Duncan: Three. Three. And we'd better not risk another frontal assault. That Fru?s relentless.

    Methos: Would it help to confuse it if we run away more? Like say to the nearest brewery?

    Duncan: Oh, shut up and go and change your armour. Yew SMELL like a brewery.

    Richie: Hey, let?s tease it! It might get so flustered that it will make a mistake.

    Duncan: With what?

    Richie: Well... um ..... [looks at the remains of his butt]. Nevermind.

    Connor: Have we got a boxers shot?

    Duncan: No.

    Connor: We have the Holy Butt Shot.

    Duncan: Yes, of course! The Holy Butt Shot of NotToBe! 'Tis one of the sacred tapes Brother Darius carries with him! Brother Darius! Bring up the Holy Butt Shot!

    Monks: [chanting] Season Six it really reeks, except that glimpse of Richie's cheeks. Season Six it really reeks, except that glimpse of Richie's cheeks.

    Duncan: How does it, um-- how does it work?

    Connor: Don?t ask me - this isn?t a slash piece.

    Duncan: Consult the Book of Gluteus Maximus!

    Brother Darius: Gluteus Maximus, chapter two, verses fifty to sixty-nine.

    Second Brother: And Saint Bairbrei raised the Holy Butt Shot tape up on high, saying, 'O Demigod, bless this Thy Butt Shot that, with it, Thou mayest reduce Thine fans to mindless drooling cretins in Thy mercy.' And the Demigod did grin, and the people did feast upon grapes and reddi wip and chocolate pudding and bacon and Belgian waffles and black forest cake and cherries jubilee and --

    Darius: Skip a bit, Brother.

    Second Brother: And the Demi God spake, saying, 'First shalt thou take out the Holy video tape. Then, shalt thou fastforward to Richie?s scene. No more. No less. Richie shalt be as far as thou fastforward, and the scene to which you fastforward shall be Richie?s. Methos? death shalt thou not fastforward to, nor either fastforward to Tessa excepting that thou then proceed to Richie. The montage is right out. Once the Richie scene, being the correct scene, be reached, then, broadcast the Holy Butt Shot of NotToBe at the Fru, who, being naughty in My sight, shall be mesmerized by it.'

    Darius: Mmmm mmmm good.

    Immies: Mmmmm mmmm good.

    Duncan: Right!
    [fastforwards on the VCR-wide screen TV setup]
    One!... Two!... Five!

    Richie: Stop at *MY* scene, Mac!!

    Duncan: Three!
    [Mexican music plays]
    [Fru stares at the butt shot ... after a moment she drowns in a puddle of her own drool.]

    Scene 22

    Duncan: There! Look!

    Connor: What does it say?

    Richie: What language is that?

    Duncan: Darius! Yew are a scholar.

    Darius: It's Forumese!

    Richie: Of course! Galatea of Paraguay!

    Connor: 'Course!

    Duncan: Wot does it say?

    Darius: It reads, 'Here may be found the green pez-inspired words of Galatea of Paraguay. He who is valiant and possessed of olives may find the Stone Chicken in the Castle of snaaaaaaaarf'.

    Duncan: What?

    Darius: '...The Castle of snaaaaaaaarf'.

    Fitz: What is that?

    Darius: She must have laughed while carving it.

    Connor: Oh, come on!

    Darius: Well, that's what it says.

    Duncan: Look, if she was snarfing, she wouldn't bother to carve 'snaaaaaaarf'. She'd just say it!

    Darius: Well, that's what's carved in the rock!

    Richie: Maybe she was dictating.

    Duncan: Richie..... shut up. Well, does it say anything else?

    Darius: No. Just 'snaaaaaaaarf'.

    Connor: Snaaaaaaaarf. Heh heh heh

    Duncan: Snaaaaarf.

    Fitz: Do you suppose she meant the Speeeeeeeeew?

    Richie: Where's that?

    Fitz: France, I think.

    Connor Isn't there a 'Suuuuuuuuuusie ' in Ohio?

    Duncan: No, that's in Illinois.

    Connor: Oh, yes. Illinois.

    Immies: Illinois.

    Fitz: Oooohoohohooo!

    Connor: No, no. 'Snaaaaaaaarf', coming out the nose. Snaaaaaarf.

    Fitz: N-- no. No, no, no, no. 'Oooooooh', in surprise and alarm.

    Connor: Oh, you mean sort of a 'aaaah'!

    Fitz: Yes, but I-- aaaaaah!

    Duncan: Oooh!

    Richie: Uh, Mac ........ [dramatic chord] [roar]

    Darius: It's the legendary Tom Lee Jones!!!! [TLJ blasts away Darius]

    Fitz: That's it! That's it!

    Duncan: Run away!

    Immies: Run away! [roar]
    Run away! Run awaaay! Run awaaaaay!
    [roar]
    Keep running!
    [boom] [roar]
    Shh! Shh! Shh! Shh! Shh! Shh! Shh! Shh!...

    Fitz: We've lost him. [roar]

    Immies: Aagh!

    Narrator: As the horrendous Man in Black lunged forward, escape for Duncan and his friends seemed hopeless, when suddenly, Melvin ran out of olives

    Melvin: Damn!! [shakes empty olive can]

    Narrator: The olive-induced peril was no more. The quest for Stone Chicken could continue.

    Scene 23

    [gurgle]

    Richie: There it is!

    Duncan: The Bridge of Death!

    Methos: Oh, great.

    Duncan: Look! There's the crazed hermit from scene twelve!

    Fitz: What is he doing here?

    Duncan: He is the keeper of the Bridge of Death. He asks each traveller five questions--

    Richie: Three questions.

    Duncan: Three questions. He who answers the five questions--

    Richie: Three questions.

    Duncan: Three questions may cross in safety.

    Fitz: What if you get a question wrong?

    Duncan: Then yew are cast into the Gorge of Eternal Zeist.

    Methos: Oh, I won't go.

    Richie: Who's going to answer the questions?

    Duncan: Methos!

    Methos: Yes?

    Duncan: Methos, you go.

    Methos: Hey! I've got a great idea. Why doesn't Mr. Same-Clan-Different-Vintage go?

    Connor: Yes. Let me go, cousin. I will take him single-handed. I shall make a feint to the north-east that s--

    Duncan: No, no. No. Hang on! Hang on! Hang on! Just answer the five questions--

    Richie: Three questions. Geez, Mac. And they say *I* don?t listen!

    Duncan: Three questions as best yew can, and we shall watch... and pray.

    Connor: I understand.

    Duncan: Good luck, Connor. God be with you.

    Hermit: Stop! Who would cross the Bridge of Death must answer me these questions three, ere the other side he see.

    Connor: Ask me the questions, bridgekeeper. I am not afraid.

    Hermit: What... is your name?

    Connor: My name is Connor MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod.

    Hermit: What... is your quest?

    Connor: To seek the Stone Chicken.

    Hermit: What... is your favourite colour?

    Connor: Blue.

    Hermit: Right. Off you go.

    Connor: Oh, thank you. Thank you very much.

    Methos: That's easy!

    Hermit: Stop! Who approacheth the Bridge of Death must answer me these questions three, ere the other side he see.

    Methos: Ask me the questions, bridgekeeper. I'm not afraid.

    Hermit: What... is your name?

    Methos: Adam Pierson, aka Methos.

    Hermit: What... is your quest?

    Methos: To seek the Stone Chicken ... and free beer.

    Hermit: Who .... wrote ?The Twist??

    Methos: I don't know that! Auuuuuuuugh!

    Hermit: Stop! What... is your name?

    Richie: Richie Ryan

    Hermit: What... is your quest?

    Richie: I seek the Stone Chicken ... and hot babes.

    Hermit: What... is your favourite colour?

    Richie: Blue. No, red-- auuuuuuuugh!

    Hermit: Hee hee heh. Stop! What... is your name?

    Duncan: It is Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod.

    Hermit: What... is your quest?

    Duncan: To seek the Stone Chicken.

    Hermit: What... is the air-speed velocity of unladen Tupperware?

    Duncan: What do you mean? A salad keeper or sandwich keeper?

    Hermit: Huh? I-- I don't know that. Auuuuuuuugh!

    Fitz: How do know so much about food storage systems?

    Duncan: Well, yew have to know these things when yew are the hero, yew know. [suspenseful music]
    [music suddenly stops]
    [intermission]
    [suspenseful music resumes]

    Scene 24

    [Connor is carted away in a police paddy wagon]

    Duncan: Connor! Connor! Connor!

    Fitz: Connor! Connor!

    Duncan: Connor!
    [police radio]
    Connor!

    Fitz: Connor! Connor!
    [angels sing]
    [singing stops]
    [ethereal music]

    Duncan: The Castle Snaaaaaaarf. Our quest is at an end! Demi God be praised! Almighty Demi God, we thank Thee that Thou hast vouchsafed to us the most holy--
    [twong] [baaaa]
    Jesus Christ!
    [thud]

    Demon Guard: Hello, dappy Immortal k-niggets and Duncan MacLeod, who has the brain of a Gingerbread man, you know. So, we servants of evil outwit you a second time!

    Duncan: How dare yew profane this place with your presence! I command yew, in the name of TPTB, to open the doors of this sacred castle, to which Cassieho herself has guided us!

    Demon Guard: How you Immortal say, 'I?m sorry, Mac, I knew he was your friend?, victim of a bad haircut!! So, you think you could out- clever us Zoroastian folk with your silly angst-ridden dialogue and hand wringing? I wave my underoos at your Clan, you pouty-lipped lot of moss tea drinking barnacle biters.

    Duncan: In the name of the almighty dollar, we demand entrance to this sacred castle!

    Demon Guard: No chance, Scottish friend-whacking types. I wave green jackets at you and call your door-opening request a silly thing, you hypocritical judger of other people's actions!

    Duncan: If yew do not open this door, we shall take this castle by force!
    [splat]
    In the name of Lee Press-on nails and the glory of our--
    [splat]

    Demon Guards: [laughing]

    Duncan: Agh. Right! That settles it!

    Demon Guard: Yes, depart a lot at this time and cut the approaching any more, or we fire Season Six reruns at the tops of your heads and make you watch Dr. Anne Eurominutes! Ha ha haaa ha!

    Duncan: Walk away. Just ignore them.

    Demon Guard: And now, remain gone, illegitimate-faced foundlings! And, if you think you got a nasty taunting this time, you ain't heard nothing yet, dappy Scottish k-nnniggets! Thpppt!

    Demon Guards: [taunting]

    Duncan: We shall attack at once!

    Fitz: Yes, my friend!

    Duncan: Stand by for attack! [exciting music] [music stops] [silence] Demon!

    Demon Guards: [taunting] ...Dappy!...

    Duncan: Today the blood of many a valiant friend shall be avenged. In the name of the Holy Nielsons...

    Demon Guards: Hoo hoo! Ohh, ha ha ha ha ha!...

    Duncan: ...we shall not stop our fight till each one of you lies dead (at my hand) and the Stone Chicken returns to whatever plotline the writers have chosen!

    Demon Guards: ...Ha ha ha!...

    Duncan: Charge!

    Army of Immies: Hooray! [police siren]

    Clan Denial: Yes, they're the ones. I'm sure.

    Inspector: Come on. Anybody armed must go, too.

    Officer #1: All right. Come on. Back.

    Clan Denial: [Points to Duncan] Get that one.

    Officer #1: Back. Right away. Just... pull it off. Come on. Come along.

    Inspector: Put this man in the van.

    Officer #1: Clear off. Come on.

    Fitz: Can I at least have a smoke of my pipe?

    Inspector: I think not.

    [squeak] Officer #1: All right, lady. That's enough. Just pack that in. No one?s reading this far anyway. [crash]

    AC: Crap!

    The End

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