Written by Michael O'Mahony and Sacha Reins
Shot of a leatherbound book, titled "Highlander," lying on a velvet background. The book opens, and we see "The Stone of Scone: A Fable" printed on the title page. A narrator reads the words aloud, and the next page is turned to show a picture of Westminster Abbey, with the caption "England- 1720." The camera pulls in, and the picture fades to . . .
Somewhere in the bowels of the Abbey
Fitzcairn and a helper are moving along the tunnels, the helper pushing a cart loaded with kegs of gunpowder. The helper is complaining about how much the cart weighs, and Fitz tells him to be quiet.
Fitz: "Stop your whining, man. You sound like a horse in heat. You're being paid well enough. Hurry along, there, pull yourself together."
The helper begins unloading the kegs, pouring out a trail of gunpowder onto the floor.
Somewhere else in the bowels of the Abbey
Duncan MacLeod's voice is heard, counting off paces as he rounds a corner, followed by a helper of his own. When he reaches sixty, he stops and points at the wall.
Duncan: "Right. We'll dig in through here, then we'll go straight up."
Assistant grumbles: "I dunno. If we was to get caught . . ."
Duncan: "You've been paid well enough to do what you're told. Now dig!"
Duncan turns, and he and Fitz finally sense each other. Duncan tells his assistant to stay where he is.
Duncan: "I'll take care of whoever it is."
Assistant, confused: "Hm?"
Fitz also moves away, telling his helper he'll "deal with this."
Helper, also confused: "Deal with what?"
Duncan and Fitz creep along their respective tunnels, until they finally leap out at one another, and realize to their disgust who they've been stalking.
Fitz: "What the devil are you doing here?"
Duncan: "I might ask you the same question."
Fitz: "Well I asked first."
Duncan, defiantly: "I'm here to steal the Stone of Scone from Westminster Abbey, and return it to its rightful place in Scotland!"
Fitz: "The Stone of Scone?"
Duncan: "Aye, the Stone of Scone!"
Fitz turns as his helper trots up, still carrying the keg of powder. The helper rounds the corner, sees Duncan, and shrieks. He drops the keg and runs off, yelping in terror. Duncan's assistant, hearing the commotion, likewise drops his tools and scuttles off. Meanwhile, Duncan is telling Fitz that it's his turn to explain what he's doing there.
Fitz: "I'm here to blow that pompous ass George off the throne of England, and bring this Abbey down around his ears."
Duncan: Not before I have the Stone you don't."
But Fitz protests, saying that if Duncan steals the Stone, he'll never be able to get back in.
Fitz: "They'll seal the place up so tight, not even a mouse won't be able to get in."
Duncan: "But Fitzcairn, the Stone is what is important."
Fitz: "To who?"
Duncan: "To the people of Scotland!"
Fitz: "But what about the people of England."
Duncan: "Well to hell with them, they're thieving bastards."
Fitz: "They're what?!"
Duncan: "They're thieving bastards!"
Fitz, enraged, knocks Duncan's torch from his hand, and it lands near the powder keg. As they watch in horror, the trail ignites.
Duncan: "What do you mean, 'uh-oh?'"
Fitz looks at him in terror, then bolts, yelling: "Run! Run away! Run away!"
Duncan peeks around the corner, sees the loaded cart, and makes a quick decision. He dashes after Fitzcairn just as the fire reaches the cart, blowing it to smithereens.
Duncan and Fitzcairn stagger back to the remains of the cart, Fitz telling Duncan that it's all his fault.
Duncan: "My fault? You're the one that brought the bloody gunpowder, and you didn't even bring enough!"
Fitz: "How do you know?"
Duncan: "Because the Abbey's still standing, you bloody nincompoop!"
Fitz: "What did you call me?"
Fitz decks him, sending his wig flying off.
Duncan, snatching up his wig and sticking it back on: "That's it!"
Fitz: "Wait! Now, this is no way for gentlemen to settle a dispute"
Duncan: "Then how do you suggest that we settle it!"
Fitz: "On the field of battle, like the warriors we are."
They start circling each other as Duncan agrees to the notion.
Duncan: "What are the terms?"
Fitz: "If I lose, I help you steal the Stone. But if you lose, you will help me bring this abbey down on George's head."
Fitz and Duncan: "When?"
Duncan answers: "Tomorrow, on the battlefield, at dawn!"
They run off as they hear the shouting of men coming to investigate the explosion.
Sedgwick Field, England
A few cows are standing around in a field. Duncan and Fitz step up to face one another. Duncan asks if he's ready.
Fitz: "Ready? I'm going to bury you, MacLeod."
They step back, and salute with their golf clubs. In the distance, a white flag flutters on the green. Fitz asks who will have the honor of the first swing, and Duncan says it makes no difference.
Duncan: "I'm going to drive you into the ground."
Fitz: "Expect no mercy from me."
Duncan: "From an Englishman? I didna need it."
Fitz: "You will, when you see how I use this." He holds up his club. "The best money can buy. English briar."
Duncan: "Ha! You call that a club? Now this--" Waves his club. "--this is a club." Smirks. "After you."
Fitz puts down his ball and prepares to tee off (or whatever it is that golfers do. I know as much about golfing as I do about Spanish dancing . . . :)). He does some knee bends and other stretches, while the cows look on, adding commentary. Fitz finally drives, and Duncan watches the ball with interest.
The ball drops into the rough, in the US version we cut directly to Fitz and Duncan in 1950, picking up with Fitz's line about the crosswind.
Duncan: "Oooo! Nicely done, is this some kind of new English strategy?"
Fitz: "Let's see you do better."
Duncan: "No problem."
He puts his ball on the tee, takes a few practice swings and then moves to take his shot.
Fitz: "Mind the cow!"
Duncan stops in mid swing, glares at Fitz.
Duncan: "I beg your pardon sir?"
Fitz: "Just trying to help."
Duncan: "I dinnae want your help, or need it!"
He prepares to take his shot, begins to swing, when Fitz coughs and Mac's shot goes off into the rough.
Duncan: "Och, damn you Fitzcairn, you did that on purpose."
Fitz: "Oh, that's a lame excuse. Anyone can see, man, it's your grip."
Duncan grips Fitz by the throat: "There's nothing wrong with my grip."
Fitz glances down at Duncan's hand: "Your grip on the club sir, it's all wrong."
Duncan lets go of Fitz's throat, wipes his hand on Fitz's coat: "Doch, you're impossible."
The Royal Sedgewick Golf Course
Fitz places his tee in the ground.
Fitz: "Ah, the smell of the damp grass, an open fairway, a driver in my hand. Reminds me of the old days Macleod."
Fitz takes his shot, and it lands in the rough.
Fitz: "Crosswind, I'll just" . . . etc.
Fitz: "Crosswind. I'll just take my Mulligan."
He and Duncan turn as Amanda speaks from behind them
Amanda: "No Mulligans, darling."
Duncan greets her with a chaste kiss, telling her she's late. But Fitz is aghast.
Fitz: "No Mulligans? There always have been Mulligans."
Amanda's caddy, Andy, explains that it isn't gentlemanly, that "one never takes a Mulligan when playing a proper round of golf. It's only children and--begging your pardon, miss--women do."
Fitz, to Duncan: "I gave her odds!"
Amanda, to Duncan: "I needed the money." She steps up and prepares to tee off.
Duncan, unbelieving: "You bet Amanda when she needed money."
Fitz: "Think I'm taking an unfair advantage?"
Duncan: "I think you're an idiot."
Amanda lines up her shot, taking a practice swing with Fitz kibitzing helpfully. She ignores him and drives off the tee, and Duncan and Fitz watch, heads bobbing in unison, as her ball lands and bounces gently to within a few yards of the hole.
Amanda: "You were saying, Fitz?"
Amanda strolls off with her caddy, saying she'll see them "on the green."
Fitz, hissing to Duncan: "I think she's done this before!"
Duncan: "She's done everything before, Fitz."
Duncan: "She's done everything before, Fitz." He watches her move away. "How come she's playing off the men's tees and not the ladies' tees?"
Fitz: "Part of the odds I gave her."
Duncan: "How much did you bet her?"
Fitz: "A few . . . pounds. A few thousand pounds."
Fitz: "How good is she?"
Duncan giggles some more.
The three players are looking for their lies (or whatever the term is) near some bushes. Duncan finds his in the clear, but Fitz's is lost in the rough. While Duncan plays his shot, Fitz takes a second ball from his pocket and tosses it into the clear, not noticing his own ball wedged into the shoots behind him. He announces that he's found it, and prepares to take his shot as Andy wanders up and sees his ball in the bushes.
Andy: "I believe that's your ball, sir."
Fitz: "No, no this one's mine. That must be someone else's."
Amanda picks up the ball: "This is your mark, Fitzcairn. You took an unplayable lie without declaring."
Fitz: "An honest mistake."
Amanda: "A mistake, was it? You miserable, lying, little cheat."
Fitz offers to forfeit the game, telling her the money's hers, if she'll promise not to tell MacLeod.
Duncan, walking up: "Tell me what?"
Amanda: "It seems our friend here is playing hard and fast with the rules." She shows Duncan the two balls.
Duncan: "You cheated!"
Fitz: "A simple mistake. Anyone could have made it."
Duncan, pacing around him: "I've seen you cheat at cards, and I've seen you cheat with women, but *golf*?! What kind of man cheats at golf?"
Fitz protests that he had an impossible lie, but Duncan stalks off.
Fitz: "I swear! I haven't done it for centuries!"
Duncan stops dead: "Which century?"
Fitz: "It was a long . . . long, long time ago, MacLeod. I can barely remember it myself . . ."
Duncan and Fitz are searching for their balls, Duncan crowing that he's two strokes ahead.
Duncan: "Looks like you'll be swinging a pick."
But Fitz has found Duncan's ball, and he squashes it into the mud with his shoe as he takes a second ball from his pocket and tosses it toward the green while Duncan chants, "Two strokes ahead, two strokes ahead . . ." Once the ball has landed, Fitz calls Duncan over.
Fitz: "MacLeod! Your ball."
Duncan: "How did it get buried in the ground like that?"
Fitz: "Who knows? Bad luck. Oh, look. I'm in the clear. Do you mind?"
Fitz: "Bad luck, bad luck." He strolls off to take his shot, leaving Duncan muttering over his ball.
Fitz: "You could always take a penalty stroke."
Duncan: "Och, penalty, my ass." He swings, and the ball rebounds off a tree and hits him in the back.
Fitz, helpfully: "I keep telling you, it's your grip."
Duncan, furious, snatches off his wig and throws it on the ground.
Duncan stalks up to Fitz, grabbing his lapels: "The truth, Fitzcairn. Did you cheat on that game we had in 1720? Did you?!"
Fitz: "The future of a nation was at stake! It was the only way I could get you to help me?"
Duncan throws his clubs down in disgust, as Amanda asks: "Help him what?"
Duncan grabs Fitz again: "Because of you the Stone of Scone was never returned. Because of you Scotland lost its chance." Shakes him. "And because of you we went after those bloody Crown Jewels!"
Amanda interested: "Uh, *the* Crown Jewels?"
Duncan, ignoring her: "We could have had the Stone!"
Fitz, smiling smugly, pots his ball into the hole.
Fitz: "Well, seems like I won't be swinging that pick after all, MacLeod. Rotten luck, you hitting into the rough like that. Still, you were a man of honor to play it as it lay."
Duncan: "Aye, that I am."
Fitz reminds him of his promise to help restore the true king, and Duncan says that he gave his word.
Fitz: "Tonight, the Abbey is rubble."
Duncan: "Tonight! Are you out of your tiny little mind?"
Duncan: "Look, after last night they'll be waiting for us."
Fitz: "Piffle. What can they do to us?"
Duncan: "The same thing they did to Guy Fawkes. Hung, drawn, and quartered." Then, as Fitz gets it, "Oh."
They walk off, Fitz saying that : "We Catholics have wanted to restore the rightful king since Cromwell. And blowing up Westminster Abbey is what we need to rally support."
Duncan: "Blow up the Abbey, you blow up the Stone, and the Scots will never be behind you then. And you need the Scots."
Fitz says he's right, but there must be some way to rally men to the cause, and Duncan says derisively that "you'll need the bloody Crown Jewels to do that."
Fitz brightens and thumps him gleefully on the back, saying, "The man is a genius!"
Duncan: "Aw, no, no, Fitzcairn you cannot be serious. Not the Crown Jewels."
Fitz: "Well, why not?"
Duncan tells him it's madness, that no one gets into the Tower of London.
Duncan: "Only a lunatic would try it."
Fitz: "Exactly!" He walks off, laughing maniacally.
Duncan and Fitz enter the tavern.
Duncan: "I should have kept my mouth shut."
Fitz moves over to a table where a bloke is slumped over the table.
Fitz: "You there." No response, speaks louder. "I said you there!" Again no response. "Hmph! Dead drunk."
Duncan lifts the man's head up: "No, just dead."
They move through the tavern.
Fitz: "I should hope so, he works there."
Duncan: "As what?"
Fitz, as if it's obvious: "The executioner. Bernie Crimmins."
Duncan: "Crimmins? The Fence? Are you out of your tiny English mind?"
Fitz: "And why not?"
Duncan: "They say he'd sell his mother out for two pennies."
Fitz: "You worry too much. And besides, he doesn't have a mother."
Duncan, following him upstairs: "Oh, great."
Fitz, as Duncan senses another immortal: "He's one of us."
They go up and see Bernie Crimmins sitting at a table, gobbling his way through a platter of food.
Duncan: "He's one of us? This gets better by the minute."
They approach Bernie, who's making all manner of various bodily noise as he eats. Fitz introduces himself, saying the Jimmy the Dipper sent him. Bernie stares at him blankly, and Fitz reminds him: "The floor plans to the Tower."
Bernie puts his hand on a piece of paper folded on the table, and Fitz reaches out for it. Bernie slaps the meaty bone he was eating over his hand, saying he's forgotten something.
Fitz: "Ah, of course. Sixty guineas."
Bernie: "Sixty guineas?" The two thugs hovering by the wall move forward menacingly, and Fitz nods pleasantly.
Fitz: "Yes, you're right. One hundred."
He puts the money down and reaches for the plans again, but again Bernie stops him.
Bernie: "It's two hundred guineas."
Fitz protests that that's robbery, but Bernie merely says that things are tough all over. Fitz says he doesn't have the money, and asks Duncan what they're going to do.
Duncan: "Let me deal with this." He steps up to Crimmins, and tells him the deal was one hundred guineas, and he can take it or leave it. As he speaks, Fitz is dipping into his pocket, pulling out Duncan's money purse and slipping it into his hat. Bernie says he'll leave it, and Duncan prepares to leave. Fitz, though, stops him and turns back to Bernie.
Fitz: "Mr. Crimmins, you are a scoundrel and a rogue, and as much as it pains me to do so . . ." He lifts the purse he just stole from Duncan. Bernie laughs, and while Fitz holds out the money, Bernie holds up the paper, leaving it for Duncan to snatch as Bernie grabs the purse from Fitz. They take their leave.
The Tower of London
Shot of the Tower from outside, and a guard's voice calls that it's "three o' clock in the Tower, and all's well!" Even as the clock strikes, however, Duncan and Fitz are lowering themselves down to into the corridor, Duncan first. He reaches the bottom and urges Fitz on, who promptly loses his grip and falls on top of Duncan. After they untangle themselves, they rush to a small, locked door.
Fitz: "Mallet and chisel?"
Duncan: "I thought you brought the tools."
Fitz: "No, you did."
Duncan: "Er, I'll go and get them. It'll take you too long."
He runs back to the rope and starts climbing. Meanwhile, Fitz takes a look at the lock, then draws his sword and uses it to break it open.
Fitz, muttering: "Shows what *he* knows. Stupid Scot."
He goes in.
Duncan pokes his head cautiously through the door, calling Fitz's name.
Duncan: "Fitzcairn? Idiot, you can't leave him alone for a minute."
He walks on in, still calling, and finally hears Fitz say: "Over here, MacLeod."
Duncan walks around the corner, telling Fitz to stop playing around, and finds Fitz being held at swordspoint by a guard.
Duncan: "Ugh, how do you do it?"
Fitz: "It wasn't my fault. He surprised me." Duncan, unconcerned, puts down the bag and tools. "I think you'd better give up."
Duncan, taking out his sword: "It'll take more than one man to make me yield."
Fitz: "Yes, well, I've been meaning to get around to that . . ."
Duncan turns as Fitz nods behind him, and finds himself outflanked. The new arrivals order him to put down his sword, and Duncan sighs theatrically as he removes his hat, holding it to his breast as he thrusts out his sword for the guard to take. As the guard takes hold of it, though, Duncan yanks hard and head-butts him, then drops flat as the second guard fires a gun, hitting Fitzcairn in the behind. While Fitz dances around, yelling for Duncan to "Show no mercy!" Duncan takes on the three guards.
Fitz: "I blame you for this, MacLeod!"
Duncan, fighting: "This is all your fault!"
Duncan tussles with the guards, and finally succeeds in pulling the rug from under two of them, giving himself a respite. He dashes over to see why Fitz isn't helping, and Fitz yells that he's been shot, but there's no time to discuss it as the guards rush back. Duncan fights them, retreating to the far end of the hall while Fitz hobbles in his wake, his hands still chained behind his back. He starts wresting a sword from one of the suits of armor, but by the time he gets it in hand Duncan is the only one left standing, the other three guards moaning on the floor.
Fitz: "I could have done that."
He asks Duncan to help him get the chains off, but just then they hear other guards coming, and Duncan says they have to go.
Fitz: "Without the Jewels?"
Duncan: "Without them or without your plucky (???) English head." They retreat, Duncan adding, "If it hadn't escaped your notice we've just committed an act of treason against the English Crown. And if we get caught, we can be put in the Tower of London and beheaded by your friend Crimmins."
Duncan shoves Fitz away, saying: "And to think I trusted you!" He picks up his clubs.
Fitz: "I'm sorry! It was a long time ago, MacLeod." He follows Duncan as he starts to walk off. "Forgive and forget."
Fitz: "We're friends!"
Duncan: "We were."
As they leave, Amanda, who's been watching with avid interest, walks up to Andy and puts her arm around him.
Amanda: "Andy, you're a Scot. What can you tell me about this Scone Stone?"
Andy: "It's priceless, miss."
Amanda: "Worth more than the Crown Jewels?"
Andy: "They're just bits o' diamond. The Stone of Scone, missy, that's beyond *any* price, aye."
The picture fades to black and white, then fades to . . .
[These broadcasts are interspered throughout the episode. I've indicated them with the above heading, and all it means is that the following is done in the style of a newcast, in black and white, with news footage and the announcer's voiceover.--Jinjifore]
Associated British-Pathe Ltd Presents: Pathe News. Christmas Stocking.
As the camera shows scenes of holiday decorations and holiday shoppers, an announcer voices over: "Christmas, 1950. With few days left for Christmas, the race is on to get Santa's sleigh loaded up in time, with shop windows glistening like pre-War (?), it's a real problem to know just what to pick." The picture cuts to Amanda's face, looking longingly at a huge chunk of some gem as the announcer goes on: "But Christmas isn't just about having things. There's lots of fun in going round and seeing the exciting things inside!" Cut to a shot of an elderly couple, kissing under the mistletoe. "And mistletoe gives auntie a chance, even if you don't need it yourself." Cut to a man, carrying a keg marked XXX, with a scrawny chicken dangling off the back. "Make others happy, that's the spirit of Christmas, as the sailor said, taking home something to wash down the bird."
Amanda enters and is met by a butler.
Butler: "I'm sorry madam, I'm afraid the Clermont club is a members only establishment."
Amanda: "Oh really, well . . ." She glances at an old bloke on the stairs who is moving up at, like, a painfully slow rate. "From all the action I've seen, I thought it was a morgue. Listen, will you please tell Mr. Crimmins I'd like to see him?" She hands him a card.
Butler: "Very good madam" He moves away.
Old Bloke looking down on her: "Hello sweetie!"
Amanda smiles sweetly and moves away.
A butler comes in and interrupts her, telling her that, "Lord Crimmins will see you now."
Amanda: "Quelle surprise." She tosses her fur to the butler, and strolls in.
Bernie, wearing an impeccable tuxedo, neatly groomed, walks up and takes Amanda hand, saying, "My dearest Amanda."
Amanda: "'Lord' Crimmins? You actually bought a title?"
Bernie kisses her hand: "One doesn't *buy* a title, Amanda. I merely helped the royal family out of a rather nasty business. A set of unfortunate photographs came into my possession."
Amanda, gesturing to the tasteful surroundings: "Oh, but not exactly unfortunate for you."
Bernie: "Well, I imagine being in the right place at the right time . . ."
Amanda slaps his arm: "That's my Bernie, always working the angles."
Bernie: "It's Lord Crimmins, if you don't mind." He turns and sits down. "So, what brings you to see your old friend?"
Amanda sinks down next to him: "I've got a deal lined up, Bernie, but I need a little advance."
Bernie: "How much?"
Amanda: "Only fifty thousand pounds." (Pointless aside: My, but Amanda does, I have to say, look pretty good with '50s lipstick...)
Bernie: "Sorry, the bottom dropped out of the art market."
Amanda: "Ah, but this isn't art. This is a stone, a priceless stone. It's the score of the century, Bernie. Makes the Crown Jewels look like dirt."
Amanda: "Dirt." (I really wish I could describe how she says the word "dirt." Suffice it to say that I've never really thought of dirt as particularly sexy before...;))
Bernie: "Mmmm." He leans forward, thinking it over, Amanda's lips almost touching his cheek. They're both making murmuring noises, Bernie's thoughtful, Amanda's seductive, and Bernie straightens up after pouring himself a glass of champagne.
Bernie, businesslike: "Here's my proposal. A 70-30 split."
Amanda: "70-30? Now why would I take that?"
Bernie: "Oh, my darling Amanda." He rises and goes to the fireplace. "Because your luck at the gaming tables has been abysmal. And you owe the Curson (sp?) Street boys 47, 863 pounds. And they're going to break your lovely legs. Cheers."
Amanda thinks it over, and stands up: "All right." She walks over and clinks her glass with his. "It's a deal. 60-40."
Bernie: "I like you, Amanda. Well, as much as I like anyone."
Amanda: "Oh, you're warming my heart, Bernie."
Bernie: "So, I want to be sure you take this in the right way. If you renege on our little deal, I shall cut out your heart . . . before I take your head."
He sips his drink, and the camera pans up to show the crossed axes hung over the mantle, accompanied by the sound effect of an axe striking home . . .
Duncan and Amanda are lying in bed, Duncan still in his golfing clothes (mostly). Amanda is kissing his chest, covering him with smooches, but Duncan seems more concerned with the hole in the big toe of his sock than her, inspecting the damage even as he absently returns her kisses. Amanda finally catches on.
Amanda: "Am I boring you?"
Amanda sighs: "MacLeod, don't you think you're maybe taking this a little too hard?"
Duncan turns over petulantly: "The man has no honor at all." He strips off the offending sock and tosses it away.
Amanda: "Oh, it just breaks my heart to see you this way." She leans closer. "You know, I say, if the stone is so important to you, we should just go and get it."
Duncan, dubiously: "You mean steal it."
Duncan wavers for a second, then turns back on his side: "Impossible."
Amanda: "No, no, no. You see, with my talent, and your muscles--" She leans in, whispering into his ear. "--the impossible takes just a little bit longer." She starts nuzzling his ear, but Duncan pushes her back.
Duncan: "Why would you want the Stone of Scone back in Scotland?"
Amanda: "To make you happy?" Duncan laughs derisively. "What?! Are you the only one who can be selfless? Don't I ever ever ever ever get to be kind?"
Duncan: "The Stone has been locked up for 230 years in Westminster Abbey, tight as a drum."
Amanda: "Yeah, but locks are my specialty."
Duncan takes her face in his hands: "Yeah, look sweetheart, we can't do it ourselves and there's nobody crazy enough to try it."
Just then, there's a knock on the door, and they both sense another immortal as Fitz calls through the door, "MacLeod? You in there?"
Amanda's face lights up, and she leaps off the bed, Duncan protesting, "No, no, no!" but to no avail. Amanda opens the door and allows Fitz to stagger in, bottle in hand. He takes a moment to admire Amanda's silk jammies, then collapses across Duncan, breathing booze into his face while Duncan tries to fend him off.
Fitz: "MacLeod, my comrade, my friend, my companion. I am dying . . ." Duncan finally succeeds in pushing him off the bed, and Fitz thuds to the floor, finishing belatedly, " . . . of guilt."
Amanda, sitting down: "Poor baby."
Fitz pulls himself back onto the bed, sobbing: "For 230 years, I have lived with the memory of my betrayal. And it hangs over me like a curse." He buries his face in Duncan's shoulder, weeping. Duncan pats his head, trying to free his hand from Fitz's grip as he sobs, "Please, forgive me, Mac. Can you ever forgive me?"
Duncan: "You're forgiven."
Fitz: "You mean it?"
Fitz: "Thank you!" He kisses him, despite Duncan's attempts to avoid him, and Duncan pushes him off the bed again. "You won't be . . . sorry."
Amanda looks on with interest, lighting a cigarette.
Duncan: "I'm already sorry."
Shot of Westminster Abbey.
Announcer, voiceover: "'Tis the season to be jolly, as Christmas Eve descends on London."
Inside the Abbey, Amanda and Duncan meet up with Fitz, who's holding a stout pole by his side. He's wearing evening clothes, and Duncan remarks that he's "dressed for the occasion."
Fitz: "I've been invited to a party later." He follows Duncan over to the locked door, asking, "Are you sure I agreed to this?"
Duncan: "Yeah, you agreed. He agreed, didn't he?"
Fitz: "But it's Christmas. Nobody works on Christmas."
Amanda: "Oh, I've made some of my best scores on Christmas."
Duncan: "See? Now will you shut up and let her work?"
Amanda picks the lock in a few seconds and slips in, saying, "Now for stage two."
Duncan pushes Fitz through, telling him to "mind your pole" as they duck inside.
A guard is making his way up the stairs when he hears Amanda's voice, singing the tune of "Jingle Bells." She weaves out into the hallway, flask in hand, spinning around drunkenly until she stumbles into the doorway and sees the guard.
Guard: "You can't be in here, miss. We're closed."
Amanda, faking a Cockney (?) accent: "Aw, but it's Christmas." Waggles the flask at him. "Won't you have a little bit of Christmas cheer with me?"
Guard: "No, madam, no wine on duty."
Amanda: "Well I only come to the Abbey to toast the soul of my poor departed mother. Please. To Mother? After all, it is Christmas, god bless us every one."
The guard, persuaded, takes a sip. He just has time for one woozy look before he falls backwards, muttering, "What the dickens is in there . . . ?"
Amanda: "Something to separate the men from the boys."
Duncan and Fitz meet her in the hallway and they go to the room where the stone is kept, Fitz worrying that Duncan doesn't know the way. But Duncan leads them to the place, entering in the gallery above the room. In the room below, a red velvet chair sits on a dais, with a block of stone underneath.
Duncan: "There it is."
Amanda, peering over the balustrade: "Where?"
Fitz: "The chair."
Duncan: "Where it's been for 350 years." He turns. "Come on, Fitz."
But Amanda stops them: "Quiet, quiet, quiet. Can you hear that?"
Duncan: "I don't hear anything."
Fitz: "Nor do I."
Amanda: "Someone's coming. Quick, I know where to hide."
They rush to another small door, and Amanda picks the lock and lets them inside. She starts to shut the door, and Fitz asks what she's going to do.
Amanda: "I'll take care of him like I did the last one." She shuts the door and locks it behind them.
Inside, Duncan hears the snick of the lock, even as the snores of the drugged guard become audible.
Duncan: "What's that?"
Fitz: "The policeman."
Duncan: "Ugh, no. She's locked us in." He kicks at the door.
Duncan, grimly: "Probably to get rid of her partners."
Fitz: "But why would she do that? It doesn't make sense. The Stone's of no use to her."
Duncan: "She's Amanda."
Duncan: "She's Amanda."
Fitz tries to break the door down.
Duncan: "I wouldn't bother, by the time you've knocked that down, every cop in Westminister will be waiting for us."
Fitz: "So what are we going to do?"
Duncan: "Don't worry, she'll be back."
He sits down by the policeman, takes the copper's helmet and tries it on.
Duncan, grinning at Fitz: "Do you think this suits me?"
Fitz shakes his head slowly: "No!"
Duncan: "Hmm, Never really did like the forces." He puts the helmet back on the policeman. "There you go." He pats the cop on the head.
Meanwhile, Amanda is frantically pulling the stuffing from the chair's seat, saying, "Where is it!" She finally gives up and sits down on the demolished chair, feathers drifting gently around her. "Bernie isn't going to like this," she moans.
Amanda returns to where she trapped Duncan and Fitz, throwing the door open and glaring at them as they sit, grinning at her.
Fitz: "Plucking the Christmas turkey, my dear?"
Duncan giggles: "What's the matter, need us to help you move it?"
Amanda: "I need you to help me find it."
Duncan, getting up: "What do you mean, find it? It's right there. Under the chair."
Amanda makes a face of disbelief, but follows them back to the room, and stares in shock at the block of stone tucked under the chair.
Amanda: "This is a joke!"
Duncan: "It's no joke. That's the Stone of Scone.
Amanda: "It's a stupid rock!"
Duncan: "That's not just any rock! Legend has it that this is the rock that Jacob laid his head on when he dreamt of heaven. Whoever sits on this sits on the throne of Scotland. The English stole it and now we'll have it back."
Amanda: "It's a rock. I can't believe I did all of this for a stupid chunk of rock."
Fitz: "Will you hold my pole?"
With the Stone slung between them on the pole, by means of an iron ring set into it, Duncan and Fitz struggle out of the Abbey with Amanda in the lead.
Fitz: "Are you lifting, MacLeod?"
Duncan: "Of course I'm lifting Fitzcairn."
Fitz, to Amanda: "Give us a hand."
Amanda: "I don't do lifting, Fitzcairn."
Duncan: "Amanda. I owe you one."
Amanda: "Good, because I owe Bernie Crimmins fifty thousand pounds."
Duncan: "You made a deal with Crimmins? Aw, you two have something in common."
Amanda: "I had to. I thought I was getting an advance on what was a giant diamond."
Fitz: "Nobody said it was a diamond."
Amanda: "Nobody said it wasn't!"
They wrestle the Stone in the back of the car, but just as they shut the trunk they hear sirens. They pile into the car, after a brief debate on who drives, and take off.
"The Coronation Stone Mystery."
Announcer, over shots of the Abbey, the damaged chair, and police rushing to the scene: "The silence of Christmas morning was shattered by the sounds of sirens as Westminster Abbey, spiritual heart of the Commonwealth, lost one of its most precious relics when persons, so far unknown, broke in and stole the Stone of Scone. The thieves left the initials J. F. S, Justice for Scotland. Other priceless relics were untouched, as they dragged the ancient Stone of Destiny, upon which Scottish Kings were crowned, and vanished into the night through this door. The honor of the nation is at stake. If you scoundrels are listening this broadcast, know you will be found."
somewhere in England
Amanda is reading a paper with the story on the cover, along with a sketch of her. She's criticizing the drawing, saying, "I'm much prettier than this. Don't you think I'm much prettier than this?" She concludes that "it just doesn't look like me."
Duncan: "Amanda, so long as it doesn't look like you then we're in the clear. The only problem is they got the license plate number."
Amanda: "Oh no." She sets the paper aside as Duncan gets up and joins Fitz in pacing around the room. "I think we should leave the country for a while."
Duncan: "And what about the Stone?"
Amanda: "What about the Stone? Crimmins wants the Stone, or my head."
Duncan: "Yeah, well?"
Amanda: "I'm on the next boat to Algiers, boys."
Fitz: "And I'm with her."
Fitz: "Well, I've done my bit, you've got the Stone."
Amanda: "What about you?"
Duncan: "I'm staying."
Fitz hands him a dart: "Well, as you wish."
Duncan: "You're leaving."
Duncan: "Great, great. Fine." He turns to Amanda. "You're leaving."
Duncan: "Fine. Fine."
A waitress comes to serve another customer with a tray of food, and Fitz sidles up to her, leaning over to whisper something in her ear that makes her giggle. Duncan rolls his eyes. Fitz moves off, and as he does so the man sitting at the table lowers his newspaper. It's Bernie's butler, and he looks after them, then inspects the picture. *Well, well,* he thinks. *Quelle surprise. If it isn't Amanda.*
Amanda is walking to her car, suitcase in hand, when she's nabbed by Scotland Yard. They cuff her and arrest her on the charge of treason.
Announcer, voiceover: "There is a startling new development in the Stone of Scone investigation, as police have apprehended a suspect who's being questioned at Scotland Yard."
At Scotland Yard, Amanda is being questioned. She maintains that she was nowhere near the Abbey at the time.
Amanda: "I was out caroling."
Inspector: "Look, love, I don't think you understand the trouble that you're in. Breaking into Westminster Abbey, stealing a national treasure." He tries to get her to say that she was just going along with the others, an innocent young girl forced into it. "Give us the names, and you might not grow old in prison."
Amanda: "You'd be surprised."
There's a knock at the door, and Amanda smiles as she senses another immortal. An officer comes in and says something to the inspector.
Inspector: "It appears you're being sprung."
Amanda: "Next time, be a little more careful who you pick up." She winks at him, and prepares to leave. But when she opens the door, she finds, not MacLeod, but Bernie Crimmins.
Bernie: "Amanda!" He draws his finger across his throat, and Amanda slams the door shut.
Amanda: "I've changed my mind. I'd like to talk about that deal now."
Fitz is frolicking in bed with the aforementioned waitress, accusing her of being ticklish as he squirms under the sheets.
Fitz: "Tell me, my dear, what are the three words a woman never wants to hear when she's making love?"
Waitress: "I give up."
Fitz: "Exactly." He starts kissing her again, just as someone pounds on the door. "Go away!"
The door opens, and the inspector comes in.
Inspector: "Hugh Fitzcairn. Miss." He touches his hat to her. "You're under arrest."
Fitz: "Under arrest? Whatever it is, you've got the wrong man. I know nothing about the Stone. I'm not even a Scot."
Inspector: "Save it for the magistrate. Your partner turned you in."
Fitz, glancing at the waitress: "You couldn't give me a half an hour to get ready . . . ?"
Announcer: "The search for the missing Stone of Destiny. With two suspects in custody, Scotland Yard continues its search for the third villain. The dragnet has been extended throughout the country, and no stone, no matter how small, is being left unturned. Many Scotsmen feel that the removal of their Stone of Destiny may be a gesture to stir up Scottish sentiment for home rule."
Duncan is chipping away at a block of stone, taking "a little bit here, a little bit there . . . " When the finished block is sitting on a cradle, he observes that, "it looks like the original to me." He grabs hold of the cradle to move it to the car, but as he does so the rickety structure tips over, and the stone crashes to the ground, splitting cleanly in half.
Duncan: "Oh, well."
Meanwhile, Fitz and Amanda are languishing in adjoining cells, Fitz pacing back and forth.
Fitz: "Tell me, Miss Judas, did you sell MacLeod out, too? Did you get a package deal for the two of us?"
Amanda: "No, I didn't. Look, Crimmins was waiting for me. I had to make the best of a bad deal. I ratted on you to save my neck."
Fitz: "Speaking of deals, what you do think they'll do to us?"
Amanda looks thoughtful: "Well, the charge is treason, so I would say . . . 60-40 we get the hangman."
Amanda: "You're on."
Fitz: "How much?"
Amanda: "Five thousand."
Fitz: "You haven't got any money."
Amanda, indignant: "I'll give you a marker!"
Fitz, laughing: "Oh, right."
Amanda: "You don't trust me."
Fitz: "Trust? You?"
They lean on their bars, staring out glumly
World News. A different announcer says that "in London, the Stone of Scone has still not been recovered. Prime Minister Churchill has little to say to the crowds anxiously waiting outside 10 Downing Street."
Inside, Duncan is talking to the Prime Minister (who, by the way, always sits with his back to the camera, hidden behind his chair...;))
Duncan: "It's a sticky situation, sir. If the Scots get wind that the Stone can't be found, it will rally them to the cause."
Churchill: "Bad business."
Duncan: "Indeed. The worst."
Churchill: "The press will tear me apart."
Duncan: "Well, use them, sir. Issue a press release. Tell them that it was a schoolboy lark, that you're releasing the two responsible, in return for the Stone."
Churchill: "But the idiots don't know where it is."
Duncan: "Well, trust me, sir. Release them, and I'm sure the Stone will be returned."
Churchill: "I detect something more than love of country, MacLeod."
Duncan: "It's personal, sir."
Churchill: "It would be best for England."
Duncan: "Exactly. You will have the Stone back, although it's not in one piece."
Churchill: "How did the bloody thing get broken, anyway? Never mind. As long as we get it back. You're a good man, MacLeod. There will be no questions asked."
Duncan: "Thank you, sir."
"The Missing Coronation Stone"
Announcer, over a shot of the Stone with a big seam down the middle: "The Stone of Scone has been recovered. It was anonymously placed at Arbroath Abbey, close to the grave of William the Lion." Two councilors arrive to take charge of returning it, and the broadcast concludes with the happy news that "the Stone of Scone has been returned to its rightful place at Westminster Abbey, and there is joy throughout our great kingdom."
Duncan is waiting for Fitz and Amanda outside the police station, ready to take them home.
Fitz: "How'd you manage to spring us?"
Duncan: "Don't ask." He hands Amanda an envelope. "But I did."
Fitz: "Our official pardon?"
Amanda: "No, better. Reward money for information leading to the recovery of the Stone." Fitz chortles and snatches it from her. "Wait a minute! I ratted on you, that's mine!"
Fitz: "I think not. It's mine."
Duncan takes it from Fitz: "I think not. It's mine."
Duncan: "Yeah, if you hadn't cheated in the first place, none of this would have happened."
Fitz: "Excuse me. Did I hear you correctly? Did you call me a cheat?"
Amanda: "I think he did." As Duncan is saying, "Cheat. Cheat. Cheat," her hand is slipping down, tugging the reward envelope from Duncan's fingers.
Fitz: "Nobody calls me a cheat."
Duncan: "You're a . . ." He looks as he realizes the money is gone, and glares at Amanda, who's now on the other side of the car.
Fitz: "I demand satisfaction."
Duncan: "You shall have it." He steps back to let Fitz get in the back of the car.
Fitz: "Tomorrow. Dawn."
Duncan nods: "Dawn it is." He gets in and shuts the door. "And, Fitzcairn . . . no Mulligans."
Royal Highlands Golf Club, Scotland
Fitz and Duncan are watching Amanda tee off.
Fitz: "She'd make a fortune with me as her coach."
Duncan: "She doesn't need a coach."
Fitz: "Are you serious? Everyone needs a coach. Especially you."
Duncan: "Oh, very nice shot!"
Amanda: "Thank you."
She strolls back, and Fitz moves to the tee, pontificating about his backswing. Two other ladies show up, and one sits down on the handily placed stone seat while they wait. Amanda glances back, and does a double take when she realizes just exactly what that stone seat *really* is . . .
Amanda: "MacLeod! How did you . . . ?"
He shushes her with a finger over his lips, and they turn to watch Fitz swing.
Duncan, watching the ball: "Oh, my goodness!"
Fitz: "That's the way to do it." He joins Amanda as Duncan sets up.
Fitz, to Amanda: "Seems a little complicated, but after all, it is a Scottish game."
Fitz, louder, so Duncan can hear: "I'm sorry about the Stone. We did our damnedest but I suppose some things aren't meant to be."
Duncan: "You tried."
Duncan swings, and the ball wobbles a few feeble feet.
Fitz: "I told you man, it's your grip. He won't have it, but I keep telling him. Anyone can see." He and Amanda collect their bags and walk off.
Amanda: "Now, is it true what they say that whoever sits on the Stone is the rightful ruler of Scotland?"
Fitz: "So they say."
Amanda looks back again, and smiles at the lady sitting primly waiting for the tee.
The two ladies get up after they're gone, the one saying: "Aye, it's a good place to put a seat. It's a little bit hard on the bottom, but it's better than sitting on the grass!"
The scene pulls back to show the last page of the book, with the words, "The End" as the book closes . . .
Next, "Forgive Us Our Trespasses."
These pages are written by Jinjifore and are translated into HTML and maintained by Ian.
Disclaimer: All the dialogue, characters, situations, and darn near everything else belong to a bunch of fine and talented folks at Rysher Entertainment and Panzer/Davis, and in particular the dialogue belongs to the credited writer of this episode. Me, I just wrote the rest down in my own words, which belong to me, but the episode itself was made by the aforementioned people and is owned by them. This humble synopsis isn't meant to infringe on their rights, and I'm sure as heck not making any money from doing these.
Everything not belonging to Rysher, et al, ©Copyright 1997 by Jinjifore
Feel free to copy and distribute as long as this copyright notice and disclaimer are included, except where local bandwidth laws apply.
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Celtic clip art courtesy of the Celtic Art Web Page.
|Last Rev: H71 [ 1 Jul 97 ]|