[Post 2 of 2. This numbering is my new method of trying to keep up with Jules . Some hope. How can anyone keep that many conversations going at once? And continuously revised too…]
Yeah. Scottish. I mean Aye, Scots. (nearly slipped out of character there, which would never do while you-know-who is watching)
Oh, you’re back, are you?
Yes sir. And I’ve been thinking —
You know how dangerous that is.
Yes sir. And what I’ve been thinking is, I’d like to resign my commission, sir.
Thank you, s — No? No, sir?
No. Once a Scot, always a Scot. These people need our protection.
From what, sir?
Reality. While you’ve been away they’ve doubled in number.
But sir, I —
You have the antecedents?
Yes sir. Three generations of Alexander Stewarts. Possibly more. But that was —
And you’ve lived there yourself?
Just a year sir. They called it the summer of love.
What was it for you?
Summer of being cold in tweed. But —
And you’ve climbed up the Wallace Monument? Seen his sword?
Yes sir. And sir, I don’t see how anyone could lift that. Not Mel Gibson. Not even one end of it. And —
Your makeup looks good.
The blue. Very realistic.
That’s not makeup, sir. It’s my first response to the current development.
Well, it’s about to get worse.
Put on your Einstein goggles and take a look just beyond the horizon.
Oh no, sir! Not Ray Winstone. How am I supposed to do that?
You’ll think of something. And I’ll remind you that this is a secret mission, so you’d better disappear, right now. Line please.