[Scene opens with a fanfare of trumpets on cover of book titled "Highlander". A hand reaches in from offscreen and opens the cover. Title page is revealed: "The Stone of Scone" / "A Fable" in ornate script.]

Narrator - [voice-over] The Stone of Scone: A Fable.

[The hand turns the page, revealing a sepia-toned photo of Westminster Abbey, titled "England - 1720". Camera zooms in on the photo.]>

[Super: Westminster Abbey]
 

[Super: In the bowels of the Abbey]

Patrick - [drops wheelbarrow handles] 'ere {you go}, Guv'ner... this stuff's bloody 'eavy.

Fitz - [hushed] Stop your whining, man. <You sound like a horse in heat.> CUT You're being paid well enough. You, hurry along there. Pull yourself together.

[Patrick grabs barrel of gunpowder from cart, starts pouring line of powder leading away from cart.]

[meanwhile, nearby]

[Super: Somewhere else / in the bowels of the Abbey]

DM - [counting] 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60. [stops, points at wall of tunnel] Right. We'll dig in through here. Then we'll go straight up.

Uriah - I dunno. If we ever gets caught--

DM - You've been paid well enough to do what you're told. Now, dig!

[Flash of Fitz in similar tunnel. DM senses 'buzz'. Fitz senses 'buzz'.]

DM - [turns quickly back to Uriah] Wait!

Uriah - What?

[Nearby, Fitz draws his rapier.]

DM - [to Uriah] You stay right here. I'll take care of whoever it is.

Uriah - [as DM moves off down tunnel] Hmm?

[meanwhile, nearby]

Fitz - [to Patrick] I'll deal with this.

Patrick - [as Fitz moves off down tunnel] Deal with what?

[DM & Fitz make their way carefully down their respective tunnels. Eventually, the tunnels meet up. They jump out at each other, swords crossing, then hold up their torches for a better look at their opponent.]

DM - You!

Fitz - What the devil are you doing here?

<DM - I might ask you the same question.

Fitz - Well, I asked first.> CUT

DM - I'm here to steal the Stone of Scone from Westminster Abbey and return it to its rightful place in Scotland.

<Fitz - Stone of Scone?

DM - Aye, the Stone of Scone!

[Patrick comes up behind Fitz, still carrying the gunpowder barrel. He looks at Fitz & DM, drops the barrel, & runs off back down the tunnel.]

Fitz - [looks after him, then turns back] Ah, forget it.> CUT

DM - Your turn.

Fitz - I'm here to blow that pompous ass George off the throne of England and bring this abbey down around his ears.

DM - Not before I have the Stone, you don't!

Fitz - But if you steal the Stone, I'll never get in here! They'll seal the place up so tight not even a mouse will be able to get in!

DM - But, Fitzcairn, the Stone is what is important.

Fitz - To who?

DM - To the people of Scotland!

Fitz - And what about the people of England?

DM - Well, to hell with them. They're thieving bastards.

Fitz - They're what?

DM - They're thieving bastards!

Fitz - I'll take no more! [knocks torch from DM's hand. It lands by the gunpowder barrel.]

DM - Wait--

[They watch as the line of gunpowder ignites. The flame travels along the line back up the tunnel.]

Fitz - Uh-oh.

DM - What do you mean... "Uh-oh?"

Fitz - Run! Run away! Run away! [runs off]

[DM looks down tunnel, sees cart, runs after Fitz.]

Fitz - Run!

DM - Fitzcairn!

[The flames reach the cart. The cart explodes.]

(resume previous scene)

[A fire ¹ burns where wagon of gunpowder sat.]

Fitz - This is all your fault, MacLeod!

DM - My fault? You're the one that brought the bloody gunpowder. And you didn't even bring enough!

Fitz - How do you know?

DM - Because the Abbey's still standing, you bloody nincompoop!

Fitz - What did you call me?

DM - Nincompoop! [Fitz punches DM, knocks his wig off.] That does it.

Fitz - [as DM advances on him] Wait. Now, this is no way for gentlemen to settle a dispute.

DM - [puts wig back on] Then how do you suggest that we settle it?

Fitz - On the field of battle, like the warriors we are...

DM - Oh, very well, then. What are the terms?

Fitz - If I lose, I'll help you steal the Stone. But if you lose, you'll help me bring this abbey down on George's head.

DM - Done.

DM & Fitz - [together] When?

DM - Tomorrow. The battlefield at dawn!

[Distant sound of men shouting & guns firing.]

Fitz - Get out of here!

DM - {Come on,} Fitzcairn.

Fitz - This is all your fault!

[Close on cow. ² Cut to pasture.]

[Super: The Battlefield at Dawn...]

DM - [standing toe-to-toe with Fitz] Are you ready?

[Super: Sedgewick Field, England]

Fitz - Ready. I'm going to bury you, MacLeod.

[They step back from each other, raise their weapons in salute... golf clubs. In the distance, the hole is marked by a white handkerchief tied to a pole.]

CUT

Fitz - So who has the honor of the first swing?

DM - [scoffs] It makes no matter to me, Fitzcairn, because I'm going to drive you into the ground.

Fitz - Expect no mercy from me.

DM - From an Englishman? I dinna need it.

Fitz - You will when you see how I use this. [brandishes his club] The best money can buy. English briar.

DM - Ha! You call that a club? [brandishes his own club] Now this... this is a club. After you.

[Fitz takes ball from his pocket, puts it on the grass, clears his throat, does a squat and some stretches, gets into position. <Nearby cow moos.]

Fitz - I beg your pardon? CUT

DM - I couldn't have said it better myself.>

[Fitz takes a practice swing, looks at the stick marking the hole, lines up his shot, ³ hits his ball.]

DM - Ohh! [The ball lands amongst trees in the "rough".] Nicely done! Is this some sort of new English strategy?

Fitz - Well, let's see you do better. [exchanges places with DM]

DM - No problem. [clears his throat, drops his ball on the grass, swings his club around a bit, lines up, practice swings]

Fitz - [as DM is just about to hit his ball] Mind the cow.

DM - [aborts his swing] I beg your pardon, sir?

Fitz - Just trying to help.

DM - I dinna want your help... or need it. [lines up, swings. Fitz sneezes/coughs loudly.] Ach, damn you, Fitzcairn, you did that on purpose!

Fitz - Oh, that's a lame excuse. Anyone can see, man, it's your grip.

DM - [grabs Fitz's cravat at his throat] There's nothing wrong with my grip.

Fitz - Your grip on the club, sir. It's all wrong.

DM - [lets go, scoffs] You're impossible.

[They start off toward their balls.]

[Super: The Battlefield, 1950 / The Royal Sedgewick Golf Course]

Fitz - [places ball with row of 3 red dots on a tee] Ahh, the smell of the damp grass, an open fairway... [does some stretches] Driver in my hands. Reminds me of the old days, MacLeod. [swings, ⁴ sends ball flying... into the rough] There's a cross-wind. I'll just take my mulligan.

[Super: The Battlefield, 1950 / The Royal Sedgewick Golf Course]
(the superimposition is moved here in the cable versions)

Amanda - [walks up to them, clears her throat] No mulligans, darling.

DM - Amanda. You're late. [They kiss each other's cheeks in greeting.]

Amanda - Sorry.

Fitz - No mulligans? Of course there are mulligans. Always have been mulligans.

Amanda - Andy? [looks to her caddy]

Andrew - It ain't gentlemanly, sir. One never takes a mulligan when playing a proper round of golf. It's only children and-- [tips his hat to Amanda] --beggin' your pardon, Miss -- women do.

Fitz - I gave her odds.

[DM shoots Amanda a look.]

Amanda - [to DM] I needed the money.

DM - [to Fitz] You bet Amanda when she needed money?

Fitz - You think I'm taking an unfair advantage?

DM - I think you're an idiot.

[Amanda steps up to the tee, does a practice swing.]

Fitz - You might want to, uh, slow the backswing down a little, Amanda. And adjust your grip. Just a little. [Amanda sends her ball sailing straight down the fairway. DM & Fitz watch it land.] Oh.

Amanda - You were saying, Fitz?

Fitz - Nothing.

Amanda - [hands club to Andrew] Ta-ta, boys. I'll see you on the green.

Fitz - I think she's done this before.

DM - She's done everything before, Fitz. <How come she's playing off the men's tees and not the ladies' tees? CUT

Fitz - Part of the odds I gave her.>

DM - How much did you bet her?

Fitz - A few... pounds. A few thousand pounds... [DM laughs at him.] Well, how good is she? [DM continues laughing.] CUT

[later, down the fairway]

[Fitz wanders around edge of rough, looking for his ball.] ⁵

Amanda - [walks over] Lost your ball? I think I saw it over here.

DM - Need some help?

Fitz - No problem.

[DM sets his bag down near his ball. Fitz wanders around. DM prepares to hit his ball again. ⁶ Fitz looks around furtively, takes a ball from his pocket, tosses it into the grass. DM hits his ball.]

Fitz - Ah, yes. Here it is! [walks toward the ball he just tossed, away from his original ball, nestled at the base of a bush] Yes. Here's mine.

Andrew - [walks over to Fitz's original ball] I believe, uh, that's your ball, sire.

Fitz - No, no, this one's mine. That must be someone else's.

Amanda - [picks up Fitz's original ball] This is your mark, Fitzcairn. You took an unplayable lie without declaring.

Fitz - An honest mistake.

Amanda - Ah, a "mistake", was it? You miserable, lying, little cheat.

Fitz - Amanda... I'll forfeit the game. The money's yours. Promise you won't tell MacLeod.

DM - Tell me what?

Amanda - It seems our friend here is playing hard and fast with the rules.

DM - You cheated.

Fitz - A simple mistake. Anyone could've made it.

DM - 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 - I had an impossible lie! I swear, I haven't done it for centuries!

DM - Which century?

Fitz - It was a long, long, long time ago, MacLeod. I can barely remember it myself...

(resume previous scene)

DM - [searching the rough for his ball] Well, I'm two strokes ahead, Fitzcairn. That makes you two strokes behind. [Fitz finds DM's ball, steps on it, pushing it into the ground.] Looks like you'll be swinging a pick. [starts singing] "Two strokes ahead, two strokes ahead."

Fitz - [tosses a ball onto the fairway near the hole] MacLeod! [DM turns toward him.] Your ball. [points down at the ball he stepped on]

DM - 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?

DM - No.

Fitz - [goes to the ball he threw] Bad luck. Bad luck.

DM - [to himself] How DID it get buried in the ground like that?

Fitz - [calls back to him] You can always take a penalty stroke.

DM - Ach, penalty, my ass. [clears leaves away from his ball, hits it up out of the mud. The ball bounces off a tree trunk & hits him.] Ow!

Fitz - [offscreen] I keep telling you, it's your grip.

(resume previous scene)

DM - 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.

Amanda - Help him what?

DM - Because of you, the Stone of Scone was never returned! Because of you, Scotland lost its chance! And because of you, we went after those bloody Crown Jewels!

Amanda - Uh, THE Crown Jewels?

DM - We could've had the Stone!

(resume previous scene)

Fitz - [smiles, putts his ball short distance into hole] Well, seems like I won't be swinging that pick after all, MacLeod. Rotten luck, you hitting into the rough like that. Still, you're a man of honor to play it as it lay.

DM - [unhappy] Aye. That I am.

Fitz - And as a man of honor, you are bound to help me restore the true king.

DM - I gave my word, and I will keep it.

Fitz - Tonight, the abbey is rubble.

DM - Tonight! Are you out of your tiny little mind?

Fitz - No.

DM - No. After last night, they'll be waiting for us.

Fitz - Piffle. What can they do to us?

DM - The same thing they did to Guy Fawkes -- hung, drawn and quartered.

Fitz - [stops grinning] Oh.

DM - [at same time] Oh.

Fitz - But we Catholics have wanted to restore the rightful king since Cromwell! And blowing up Westminster Abbey is just what we need to rally support.

DM - You blow up the Abbey, you blow up the Stone. And the Scots will never be behind you then. And you need the Scots.

Fitz - God, I hate it when you're right. There must be some way we can rally men to the cause.

DM - You'd need the bloody Crown Jewels to do that.

Fitz - Hah! The man's a genius!

DM - Ah, no, no. Fitzcairn, you cannot be serious. Not the Crown Jewels!

Fitz - Why not?

DM - [stammering] Be-because it's madness! No one gets in the Tower of London. Come on! Only a lunatic would try it!

Fitz - Exactly.

DM - Exactly?

[Super: Later, at Dirty Dick's Tavern, London]

[Wench carries jug to table, slaps patron away from her, pours drinks. Fitz & DM enter tavern, down stairs.]

DM - [looks around] I should've kept my mouth shut.

Fitz - [to sailor slumped over table in corner] You there! I said you there! Hmph. Dead drunk. [walks past]

DM - [lifts sailor's head] No, just dead. ⁷ [follows Fitz] Are you sure this man of yours knows how to get inside the Tower?

Fitz - I should hope so. He works there.

DM - As what?

Fitz - The executioner. Bernie Crimmins.

DM - Crimmins the fence?!

Fitz - Mmm.

DM - Are you out of your tiny English mind?!

Fitz - And why not?

DM - They say he'd sell his own mother out for two pennies.

Fitz - You worry too much. And besides, he doesn't have a mother.

DM - Oh, great.

Fitz - He's one of us. [They sense 'buzz' as Crimmins looks around, burps, farts.] Ah, Crimmins.

DM - He's one of us? Oh, this gets better by the minute. [They enter room where Crimmins is sitting at table by himself, messily eating a leg of lamb.] Does he know he can actually cut the meat off the bone first?

Fitz - Maybe you should tell him. [reaches Crimmins' table, bows, reacts to Crimmins' smell] Mr. Crimmins, I presume? [Crimmins looks up, belches.] Jimmy the Dipper sent me. Hugh Fitzcairn. The, uh, floor plans to the Tower. [Crimmins farts, burps.] Ah! [Fitz reaches for folded parchment on table. Crimmins slaps lamb bone down on the papers, stopping him.]

Crimmins - Forgetting something, aren't we?

<Fitz - Ah, yes, of course. Sixty guineas. CUT

Crimmins - [belches, looks over at henchman by wall] SIXTY guineas?

Fitz - Oh, yes, you're right. One hundred. [puts coin bag on table, reaches for map]>

Crimmins - [stops him again] Ah, now. We seem to have a little problem here.

DM - What kind of problem?

Crimmins - Your man, he told you the wrong price. ⁸ It's two hundred guineas.

Fitz - Two hundred guineas? Why, that's robbery! CUT

<Crimmins - [belches] Things are tough all over.

Fitz - But I haven't got two hundred guineas. MacLeod? [pulls DM aside] What are we going to do?

DM - Let me deal with this. [to Crimmins] Mr. Crimmins! The deal was one hundred guineas, and one hundred guineas it is. Now you can take it or leave it. [As he talks, Fitz lifts his coin bag from his coat.]

Crimmins - I'll leave it.

DM - Very well, then. Mr. Fitzcairn, shall we?

Fitz - [clears his throat quietly] MacLeod, one moment. Mr. Crimmins, you are a scoundrel and a rogue. And as much as it pains me to do so... [holds up DM's coin bag. Crimmins laughs.] The plans. MacLeod, would you?

[DM snatches the map from Crimmins as Crimmins snatches the second coin bag from Fitz.]

Fitz - Adieu.

DM - Come on, Fitzcairn.

[They leave. Crimmins chuckles, tosses coin bag aside, picks up lamb bone. ⁹]>

[Super: The Tower of London]

<Man - [voice-over] 'Tis three o'clock at the Tower, and all is well.> CUT
 

CUT

<[Close on end of rope dangling against floor. Camera pans up to ¹⁰ DM lowering himself down the rope.]

DM - [reaches the ground] Come on, Fitzcairn. [Fitz slides down rope, lands on DM.] Get off me! [gets to his feet] Come on.>

Fitz - [outside padlocked door] Mallet and chisel.

DM - I thought you brought the tools.

Fitz - No, you did.

<DM - Eh... I'll go get them. CUT It'll take you too long. [goes to rope, starts climbing back up. Fitz draws his sword, jiggles it in padlock, gets it to open.]>

Fitz - Shows what he knows. Stupid Scot. [opens door, enters]

[Super: A little later]

DM - [hushed] Fitzcairn? Fitzcairn? [to himself] Idiot. Ye cannae leave him alone for a minute. [hushed] Fitzcairn!

Fitz - [offscreen, not whispering] Over here, MacLeod.

DM - [moves in his direction] Will you stop playing? We have work to do! [rounds corner, finds Fitz held at gunpoint by Tower guard] Oh, how do you do it?

Fitz - It wasn't my fault. He surprised me. [DM sets lantern and tool kit down.] I think you'd better give up.

DM - Ach. It'll take more than one man to make me yield. [strides forward, drawing his sword]

Fitz - Yes, well, I've been meaning to get around to that.

[DM looks around as several more guards enter the hall.]

Guard - Throw down your sword.

Fitz - I'm sorry.

[DM removes his hat, holds his sword out. A guard moves to take it from him. DM knocks the guard down. Fitz shoves his guard away. One of the guards fires his pistol... hitting Fitz in the rear.]

DM - [to a guard] Yield and I'll show you mercy!

Fitz - No mercy! Show him no mercy! [re his injury] I blame you for this, MacLeod!

DM - [swordfighting one of the guards] This is your fault.

Fitz - What do you mean, it's my fault?

[DM continues fighting the guards. Fitz continues to moan and wail in the background.]

DM - [knocks down the guards, runs over to Fitz] What are you waiting about?

Fitz - I've been shot!

[More guards come at them. DM turns to fight them off. Fitz kicks one of them in the rear.]

Fitz - How do you like it? CUT

<[DM continues fighting off guards.]

DM - Will you go down? [knocks last guard out]

Fitz - Well. I could have done that.

DM - Really.

More Guards - [offscreen] Hurry, men, up the stairs!

Fitz - [re his manacles] Macleod, the chains.

DM - There's no time. Come on.

Fitz - Without the jewels?!

DM - Without them or without your bloody English head! If it hasn'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.>

(resume previous scene)

DM - And to think I trusted you. [scoffs]

Fitz - I'm sorry. It was a long time ago, MacLeod. Forgive and forget.

DM - No.

Fitz - But we're friends!

DM - We were.

Amanda - [as DM storms off, Fitz following him] Andy... you're a Scot. Um, what can you tell me about this Scone Stone?

Andrew - It's priceless, miss.

Amanda - Worth more than the Crown Jewels?

Andrew - They're just bits of diamond. But the Stone of Scone, missy, that's beyond ANY price. Aye.

[ASSOCIATED BRITISH-PATHE LTD PRESENTS]

[Rooster crows.]

[PATHE NEWS / ALL COPYRIGHTS RESERVED MCMLIX]

[CHRISTMAS STOCKING]

Narrator #1 - [voice-over] Christmas 1950. [Exterior of Selfridges, in London, decorated for Christmas.] With few days left for Christmas, the race is on to get Santa's sleigh loaded up in time. [Close up of Santa's sleigh decoration.] And with shop windows glistening like pre-war, it's a real problem to know just what to pick. [Carousel of 50's era children's toys rotates in window.] But Christmas isn't just about having things. [Amanda gazing longingly into camera.] There's lots of fun in going 'round and seeing all the exciting things inside. [Kaleidoscope of quartz cluster; Amanda gazing longingly into camera again.] And mistletoe gives Auntie a chance, even if you don't need it yourself. [Elderly couple kissing under mistletoe.] Make others happy. [Crowds on London street.] That's the spirit of Christmas, as the sailor said, taking home something to wash down the bird. [Man carries barrel/keg down street, a dead chicken tied to the lid.] >

Butler - [as Amanda walks through foyer, dressed up & wearing a mink coat] I'm sorry, madam. I'm afraid the Clermont Club is a "members only" establishment.

Amanda - Oh, really? [eyes decrepit white-haired man carefully climbing the stairs] Well, uh, from all the action I've seen, I thought maybe it was a morgue. Listen, would you please tell Mr. Crimmins I would like to see him? [hands Butler a card]

Butler - Very good, madam. [carries card away]

Decrepit white-haired man - Hello, sweetie. [continues slowly going up staircase] ¹¹

Amanda - [examines object on display] Mm, very, very nice.

Butler - [returns, clears his throat] Lord Crimmins will see you now.

Amanda - Quelle surprise. [tosses her mink coat to the butler, enters private office. Butler tosses coat aside, walks off with his nose in the air.]

[Camera pans down from crossed headsmen's axes above mantel as Amanda enters. Crimmins stands to greet her.] ¹²

Crimmins - My dearest Amanda.

Amanda - LORD Crimmins? You actually BOUGHT a title?

Crimmins - [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 - Oh, but not exactly unfortunate for you.

Crimmins - Well, a matter of being in the right place at the right time.

Amanda - [laughs] That's my Bernie. Always working the angles.

Crimmins - It's Lord Crimmins, if you don't mind. So, what brings you to see your old friend?

Amanda - I've got a deal lined up, Bernie, but I need a little advance.

Crimmins - How much?

Amanda - Only fifty thousand pounds.

Crimmins - 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.

Crimmins - Dirt?

Amanda - Dirt.

CUT

Crimmins - [thinks it over, pours some champagne] Here's my proposal. A seventy-thirty split.

Amanda - Seventy-thirty?! Now, why would I take that?

Crimmins - Oh, my darling Amanda, because your luck at the gaming tables has been abysmal, and you owe the Curzon Street boys forty-seven thousand, eight hundred and sixty-three pounds... and they're going to break your lovely legs. Cheers. [toasts her with the champagne]

Amanda - All right, it's a deal. Sixty-forty. [clinks her glass with his]

Crimmins - I like you, Amanda. Well, as much as I like anyone.

Amanda - Oh, you're warming my heart, Bernie.

Crimmins - 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. [looks up at crossed headsmen's axes above mantle. Sound of axe hitting chopping block.] Understood?

Amanda - Perfectly. ¹³
 

[Close on a foot wearing sock with hole in the toe. Cut to Amanda kissing DM's bare chest as they lie on the bed. ¹⁴ As she continues kissing his chest, he examines the hole in his sock.]

Amanda - Am I boring you?

DM - What?

Amanda - MacLeod, don't you think maybe you're taking this a little too hard?

DM - The man has no honor at all.

CUT

Amanda - Oh, it just breaks my heart to see you this way. You know, I say if the Stone is so important to you, we should just go and get it.

DM - You mean steal it?

Amanda - Yeah.

DM - Impossible.

Amanda - Oh, no, no, no. You see, with my talent and your muscles, the impossible takes just a little bit longer.

DM - Why would you want the Stone of Scone back in Scotland?

Amanda - To make you happy. [DM laughs.] What? Are you the only one who can be selfless? Don't I ever, ever, ever, ever get to be kind?

DM - The Stone has been locked up for two hundred and thirty years in Westminster Abbey, tight as a drum.

Amanda - Yeah, but locks are my specialty.

DM - Yeah. Look, sweetheart.

Amanda - What?

DM - We couldn't do it ourselves, and there's nobody crazy enough to try it.

[Knock at bedroom door as they sense 'buzz'.]

<Fitz - [offscreen, outside closed door] MacLeod? Are you in there? CUT

DM - No. No. No.

Amanda - Yes! [runs to door]

DM - No, don't-- Don't let him in! [Amanda opens door, lets drunk Fitz in.]

Fitz - Ah.

Amanda - Ah.

Fitz - [wobbles inside, slurring] Amanda, you're dressed for the occasion. [She's wearing a silk dressing gown.]

Amanda - [as Fitz stumbles, falls onto bed] Oh!

DM - No, Fitzcairn...! [Fitz lands on top of him.]

Fitz - MacLeod.

DM - [reacts to Fitz's alcohol-laden breath] Ohh.

Fitz - MacLeod, my comrade, my friend, my companion. I am dying. [DM groans, pushes Fitz off of him. Fitz falls off the bed.] With guilt.

Amanda - Poor baby.

Fitz - For two hundred and thirty years I have lived with the memory of my betrayal. [climbs back onto bed & onto DM] And it hangs over me like a curse. [DM blows out a sigh, pats Fitz on the head.] Please forgive me that. Can you ever forgive me?

DM - You're forgiven.>

Fitz - You mean it?

DM - Yeah.

Fitz - Thank you! [kisses his cheek sloppily]

DM - Oh! Fitzcairn. [shoves him away again]

Fitz - You won't be... [falls off bed again] s-sorry.

DM - I'm already sorry.

Narrator #1 - [voice-over] 'Tis the season to be jolly, as Christmas Eve descends on London.> ¹⁵

<Amanda - Fitzcairn.

DM - [to Fitz] I see you dressed for the occasion.

Fitz - [holding tall wooden pole, dressed in evening clothes] I've been invited to a party later.> CUT Are you sure I agreed to this?

DM - Yeah, you agreed. [to Amanda] He agreed, didn't he?

Amanda - [examining locked door] Mm-hmm.

Fitz - But it's Christmas! Nobody works on Christmas!

Amanda - Oh, I've made some of my best scores on Christmas.

DM - See? Now will you shut up and let her work?

Fitz - This is crazy.

Amanda - [picks lock] Now for stage two. [slips inside]

DM - Come on. [as Fitz almost hits him in the head with his pole] Mind your pole.

[A bobby climbs circular staircase, hears singing. Amanda wanders down corridor, holding a flask, twirling drunkenly & humming "Jingle Bells". The bobby investigates.]

Bobby - You can't be in here, miss. We're closed.

Amanda - [Cockney accent] Oh, but it's Christmas. Won't you 'ave a lil bit of Christmas cheer wi' me?

Bobby - No, madam, not while on duty.

Amanda - Oh. Well, I've only come to the Abbey to toast the soul of me poor departed mother. Please. [offers flask to him] To Mother? After all, it is Christmas. God bless us every one. [giggles]

Bobby - [takes flask, glances around, takes swig] What the dickens is in there? <[falls over, out cold] CUT

Amanda - [normal voice] Something to separate the men from the boys.

[Moments later, DM & Fitz peek out of archways in corridor. Amanda motions them forward.]

Amanda - Come.

Fitz - Are you sure you know where you're going?

DM - Of course I do. Come on. [leads the way onto balcony of Great Hall] There it is.>

Amanda - Where?

Fitz - The chair.

DM - Where it's been for three hundred and fifty years. Come on, Fitz.

Amanda - Quiet, quiet, quiet! Can you hear that?

DM - [listens] I don't hear anything.

Fitz - Nor do I.

Amanda - Someone's coming! Quick! I know where to hide!

DM - Come on. Fitz!

[They run back into corridor. Amanda unlocks a door.]

Amanda - Ow. Get in here, quick.

Fitz - [follows DM in] What about you?

Amanda - I'll take care of him like I did the last one. [closes door, locks it]

Fitz - [hears snoring] What's that? [DM shines torch light on snoring bobby.] A policeman.

DM - [tries to open door] Oh, no. She's locked us in.

Fitz - Why?

DM - 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.

DM - She's Amanda. [as Fitz tries his shoulder on the door] I wouldn't bother. By the time you knock down the door, every cop in Westminster will be waiting for us. [sighs, sits on floor]

Fitz - So what are we going to do? CUT

<DM - Don't worry. She'll be back. [puts bobby's helmet on] Think this suits me?

Fitz - [shakes his head] No.

DM - Oh. Well, I never really did like the forces. [puts helmet back on bobby's head] There you go. [chuckles]> ¹⁶

Amanda - [frantically ripping out upholstery on the coronation chair, creating a small blizzard of white feathers] Where is it!? [groans in frustration] Bernie isn't going to like this.

<Fitz - [as Amanda opens their door, re feathers on her head and shoulders] Been plucking the Christmas turkey, my dear?> CUT

DM - [laughs] What's the matter? Need us to help you move it?

Amanda - I need you to help me find it.

DM - What do you mean, find it? It's right there. Under the chair.

Amanda - This is a joke!

DM - It's no joke. This is the Stone of Scone.

Amanda - It's a stupid rock!

DM - It's not just any rock. ["Bonny Portmore" instrumental plays briefly in background.] Legend has it this is the rock that Jacob lay his head on when he dreamt of heaven. Whoever sits on it, 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?

Amanda - Come on. [leads the way out of the Abbey, followed by Fitz & DM carrying the Stone suspended between them, hanging by its metal rings from Fitz's pole]

Fitz - [grunting] Are you lifting, MacLeod?

DM - Of course I'm lifting, Fitzcairn.

Fitz - [to Amanda] Give us a hand.

Amanda - I don't do lifting, Fitzcairn.

DM - Amanada, I owe you one.

Amanda - Good, because I owe Bernie Crimmins fifty thousand pounds.

DM - You made a deal with Crimmins?

Amanda - Yeah.

DM - Ah, 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! CUT

DM - Quick! It's gonna drop!

[He & Fitz maneuver the stone into the back of waiting car. Sirens begin wailing in the distance.]

Fitz - Oh, my God, that's all we need! It's the police!

[They fight over the driver's seat.]

Fitz - I'll drive. I'll drive.

Amanda - I'm driving.

Fitz - Let me drive!

DM - I'm driving!

[They pile into the car & drive away.]

[WESTMINSTER / CORONATION STONE MYSTERY / Pathe News]

[Police cars drive down dark streets, sirens wailing.]

Narrator #1 - [voice-over] 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. [Images of Westminster Abbey exterior/interior.] 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. [Images of New Scotland Yard.] The honor of the nation is at stake. If you scoundrels are listening to this broadcast, know you will be found.>

[Amanda is looking at newspaper "The Daily Telegraph / and Morning News". A picture of the Coronation Chair is front and center. To the side is an artist's rendition of Amanda, with the caption "HAVE YOU SEEN THIS WOMAN? / SUSPECT IN SCONE AFFAIR".]

[Super: Boxing Day, / somewhere in England]

Amanda - [scoffs] I'm much prettier than this. Don't you think I'm prettier than this? I mean, my eyes are too far apart in that, and my nose is all wrong. It just... doesn't look like me.

DM - Amanda, as long as it doesn't look like you, then we're in the clear. The only problem is they've got the license plate number.

Amanda - Oh, no. [whispers] I think we should leave the country for a while.

DM - And what about the Stone?

Amanda - What about the Stone? Crimmins wants the stone or my head.

DM - Yeah, well--

Amanda - I'm on the next boat to Algiers, boys.

Fitz - And I'm with her.

DM - What?

Fitz - Well, I've done my bit. You've got the Stone.

DM - Fine.

Amanda - What about you?

DM - I'm staying.

Fitz - Well, as you wish.

DM - You're leaving? [Fitz nods.] Right, right. Fine. [to Amanda] You're leaving?

Amanda - Yeah.

[Fitz & Amanda walk off. Fitz spies barmaid in maid's outfit, goes over & whispers in her ear.]

Fitz - Ah, my dear...

[Barmaid giggles. DM groans. Fitz walks off, past patron holding newspaper. Patron lowers newspaper - it is the butler from the Clermont Club. He looks at the drawing of Amanda in the paper.]

Butler - [voice-over, thinking] Well, well, quelle surprise. If it isn't Amanda. [lowers newspaper ¹⁷]

[Amanda comes out of hotel carrying a suitcase, ¹⁸ walks down ¹⁹ steps and over ²⁰ to car. A man slaps handcuff on her wrist.]

Amanda - Get your hands off me! Who the hell are you?

Harry - [approaches them] Scotland Yard, miss. I must ask you accompany us to the station house.

Amanda - I'm under arrest? What's the charge?!

Harry - Treason.

Narrator #1 - [voice-over] 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.>

Amanda - I told you, I was nowhere near the place on Christmas. I was out caroling.

Harry - Look, luv, I don't think you understand the trouble you're in. Breaking into Westminster Abbey, stealing a national treasure...

Amanda - Really? Now, uh, which Westminster Abbey would that be?

Harry - The charge is treason against the state.

Amanda - I suppose you have proof.

<Harry - CUT A little. Your fingerprints were all over the coronation chair. There is the little matter of being recognized by one of the guards. You know the one. The one you drugged.>

Amanda - [scoffs] You call that proof? ²¹

Harry - Look, luv. I know how it is. Innocent young girl falls under the wrong influences. But in this case, we know that you were just being used by those two men. Give us the names... and you might not grow old in prison.

Amanda - You'd be surprised. [senses 'buzz' as constable enters with a knock]

Harry - [as constable whispers in his ear] What? No one knows she's here. [Constable leaves.] It would appear you have been sprung.

Amanda - Next time, be a little bit more careful who you pick up. [stands, opens door, sees Crimmins waiting for her with two henchmen]

Crimmins - Amanda. [draws his finger across his throat]

Amanda - [closes door] I've changed my mind. I'd like to talk about that deal now.

Fitz - [in bed with barmaid] Ticklish, are we? Oh, I love ticklish women. Tell me, my dear, what are the three words a woman never wants to hear when she's making love?

Barmaid - I give up.

<Fitz - CUT Exactly.> [Barmaid laughs. Knock sounds at door.] Go away.

Harry - [enters room] Hugh Fitzcairn. Miss. You're under arrest.

Fitz - Arrest? Whatever it is, you've got the wrong man! I know nothing about the Stone. I'm not even a Scot!

Harry - Save it for the magistrate. Your partner turned you in. CUT

<Fitz - Um... [glances at barmaid] You couldn't give me a half an hour to get ready, could you?>

[ASSOCIATED BRITISH-PATHE LTD. / PRESENTS]

[Rooster crows.]

Narrator #1 - [voice-over] The search for the missing Stone of Destiny. [Establishing shot of New Scotland Yard. Detectives at work inside.] 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. [Car drives down street. Exterior shots of a church and castle.] Many Scotsmen feel that the removal of their Stone of Destiny may be a gesture to stir up Scottish sentiment for home rule.>

[Super: Scotland, near Edinburgh]

["Bonny Portmore" instrumental plays in background.]
 

DM - [working on block of stone with hammer and chisel, thinking] A little bit here, a little bit there. This stone, that stone, your stone, my stone. A little bit there--
 

DM - [thinking] Looks like the original to me. Hmm. [dusts off his hands] Now to move it to the car. [tries to move replica of Stone off sawhorses] Oh, no! Damn! Oh! Oh, no!

[Replica falls to the ground, splits in two.]

DM - [with resigned shrug] Oh, well.>

Prisoner - [shouting offscreen] Oi! Give us a blanket here!

[Amanda, sitting against the wall in her cell with her eyes closed, cracks an eye open, looks over at Fitz.] ²²

Fitz - [pacing in his cell] Tell me, Miss Judas... did you sell MacLeod out, too? Did you get a package deal for the two of us?

<Amanda - [in neighboring cell] CUT 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 do you think they'll do to us?

Amanda - Well, the charge is treason, so I would say... sixty-forty we get the hangman.

Fitz - Seventy-thirty.

Amanda - You're on.

Fitz - How much?

Amanda - Five thousand.

Fitz - But you haven't got any money.

Amanda - I'll give you a marker.

Fitz - Oh, right.

Amanda - You don't trust me?

Fitz - Trust? You?

Guard - [offscreen] You'll get it when you're good and ready!

[WORLD NEWS / WARNER PATHE NEWS]

Narrator #2 - [voice-over] 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.

DM - 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 - [offscreen] Oh, bad business.

DM - Indeed. The worst.

Churchill - [offscreen] The press will tear me apart for this.

DM - Well, use them, sir. Issue a press release. Tell them it was a schoolboy lark, that you're releasing the two responsible in return for the Stone.

Churchill - [offscreen] But the idiots don't know where it is.

DM - Well, trust me, sir. Release them, and I'm sure the Stone will be returned.

Churchill - [offscreen] I sense something more than love of country, MacLeod.

DM - It's personal, sir.

Churchill - [offscreen] It would be best for England.

DM - Exactly. You will have the Stone back, although it's not in one piece.

Churchill - [offscreen] How did the bloody thing get broken, anyway? Never mind. As long as we have it back. Good man, MacLeod. There will be no questions asked.

DM - Thank you, sir.>

[PATHE PICTORIAL]

[THE MISSING CORONATION STONE]

Narrator #1 - [voice-over] The Stone of Scone has been recovered. It was anonymously placed at Arbroath Abbey, close to the grave of William the Lion. And here by appointment to receive the Stone came Councillors Thornton and Gardner.

Thornton - We were approached -- Mr. Gardner and I -- to act as intermediaries to, um, facilitate the return of the Stone of Destiny to the Scottish people and to their king.

[Westminster Abbey exterior/interior.]

Narrator #1 - [voice-over] And so the Stone of Scone has been returned to its rightful place of Westminster Abbey, and there is joy throughout our great kingdom.>

Amanda - Ah, you're a sight for sore eyes. [kisses DM's cheeks]

Fitz - How'd you manage to spring us?

DM - Don't ask. But I did. [hands Amanda an envelope]

Fitz - Our official pardon?

Amanda - [reading letter] Ah, no. Better. It's reward money for information leading to the recovery of the Stone.

Fitz - [snatches envelope from Amanda] Ah.

Amanda - Wait a minute. I ratted on you. That's mine.

Fitz - I think not. It's mine.

DM - [takes envelope from Fitz] I think not. It's mine.

Fitz - Yours?

DM - 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.

DM - Cheat. Cheat. Cheat.

Fitz - Nobody calls me a cheat.

[Amanda sneaks envelope from DM's grasp.]

DM - You're a-- [looks at Amanda, standing innocently on other side of car]

Fitz - I demand satisfaction!

DM - You shall have it.

Fitz - Tomorrow. Dawn. [gets in car]

DM - Dawn it is. [gets in driver's seat, speaks over his shoulder] And, uh, Fitzcairn... no mulligans. [turns back forward, reaches for ignition ²³]
 

[Amanda swings her club around a few times, then lines up with her ball.]

[Super: Royal Highlands Golf Club / Scotland]

<Fitz - CUT --could make a fortune with me as her coach.>

DM - She doesn't need a coach.

Fitz - Are you serious? Everyone needs a coach, especially you. ²⁴

<[Amanda hits ball off tee.] CUT

DM - Oh, very nice shot.

Amanda - Hmm. Thank you.>

Fitz - You see? If you get the hands right, and you slow the backswing down--

DM - Uh-huh.

Fitz - --the follow-through comes completely naturally.

Amanda - [looks over at two women waiting their turn, recognizes stone bench one of them is sitting on] MacLeod, how did you-- [DM holds a finger to his lips.]

Fitz - I shall demonstrate. [hits ball off tee]

DM - Oh, my goodness!

Fitz - Huh. That's the way to do it. [exchanges places with DM, joins Amanda] Seems a little complicated, but, after all, it is a Scottish game.

Amanda - Hmm.

Fitz - [to DM] I'm sorry about the Stone. We did our damndest, but I suppose some things aren't meant to be.

<DM - You tried. [hits ball badly] Ohh! CUT

Fitz - I told you, man. It's your grip. [to Amanda] He won't have it, but I keep telling him. Anyone can see.>

Amanda - [as they walk down the fairway] Now, is it true what they say, that whoever sits on the Stone is the rightful ruler of Scotland?

Fitz - So they say. CUT

<Amanda - Oh. [chuckles, looks back at lady sitting on Stone bench]

Fitz - I'm on the green, MacLeod.

Lady golfer - [stands, moves toward tee] Aye, it's a good place to put a seat. It's a little bit hard on the bottom, but it's better than sittin' on the grass.

[Scene closes with a fanfare of trumpets on final page of book titled "The End".]

Narrator - [voice-over] The end.

[The hand closes the book.]>