Monarch of the Glen

Ewan Brodie:
Check that bread out, Paul, local supplier wants to start again.

Paul Bowman-MacDonald:
[Paul attempts to cut the burnt, hard, black bread] We used to drive tanks made out of this!

Ewan Brodie:
Makes sense to buy from a local! [Paul chucks the bread in the bin]

Donald Ulyses MacDonald:
I'm being held against my will! It's the front of my human rights!

Paul Bowman-MacDonald:
I think you'll find you sacrificed those when you got in the Guinness World Book of Records for the most driving offences ever!

PC Callum McIntyre:
December 23rd of that year, exceeding speed limit at 82 miles per hour in Park Lane, London.

Donald Ulyses MacDonald:
One should not be late for luncheon at the palace!

PC Callum McIntyre:
The following day, Christmas Eve, ignoring police traffic signs relating to a one-way street.

Donald Ulyses MacDonald:
I was only going one way dammit!

PC Callum McIntyre:
Which brings us onto 1981. January 1st, Prince's Street, Edinburgh. Driving in excess of the legal speed limit whilst playing the bagpipes!

Donald Ulyses MacDonald:
It was Hogmanay!

Donald Ulyses MacDonald:
I do have a way with the ladies, Lexie! It's my burden!

Molly MacDonald:
Listen, mush! I can boogie with the best, dance 'til dawn and drink 'til doomsday! So don't give me this old routine! Or I shall give you an injury from which you may never recover!

Donald Ulyses MacDonald:
[referring to Molly's 60th birthday party] I will help in any capacity. Perhaps I could help with the car parking?

Paul Bowman-MacDonald:
Great idea, Uncle! And we can put King Herod in charge of the creche!

Lexie MacDonald:
Amanda. You're here early.

Amanda MacLeish:
Actually I never left.

Lexie MacDonald:
Shouldn't you be away executing somebody?

Amanda MacLeish:
I'll go polish my axe!

Lady Dorothy Trumpington-Bonnet:
Didn't you know? Amanda is married to a businessman twice her age who spends most of his time in the South of France.

Amanda MacLeish:
Do you have a problem with me being here?

Lexie MacDonald:
No.

Amanda MacLeish:
Good.

Lexie MacDonald:
But I think your husband might.

Amanda MacLeish:
You want a homely little life with a homely little wife... you don't want me at all, you want someone like... Lexie.

Paul Bowman:
What if you weren't married to Archie?

Isobel Anderson:
I'm more of a Highlander than you'll ever be, Mr. Bowman.

Isobel Anderson:
You don't know what it is to let your hair down, do you?

Paul Bowman:
Don't I?

Isobel Anderson:
Well, when was the last time you went for something you really wanted and not something you had to? [Paul kisses Isobel]

Paul Bowman:
I'd better go...

Paul Bowman:
Never had you down as a team player, Isobel.

Isobel Anderson:
I could be, with the right person. [Paul passes Isobel a flask, their fingers touch]

Paul Bowman:
And who might that be?

Isobel Anderson:
I once thought you and I, maybe. Bit late for that now, I suppose. [Lucy walks in and interrupts them]

Paul Bowman:
You gave Donald the questions? Why?

Lucy Ford:
Because I didn't want you to be laird. I thought that if you weren't, we'd have a chance... er, it's complicated.

Paul Bowman:
Not for me, it wasn't. You knew what this meant to me, Lucy.

Lucy Ford:
I did it because I love you, and I wanted us to be together. And I knew that if you loved me, I could tell you and you'd forgive me.

Paul Bowman:
I'm not sure I can forgive you.

Lucy Ford:
'Cos you don't love me, do you?

Paul Bowman:
Lucy, I wanted to. It's just...

Lucy Ford:
It's just Isobel, isn't it? It's always been Isobel.

Paul Bowman:
I'm really sorry.

Lucy Ford:
So am I. So, that's us quits then.

Paul Bowman-MacDonald:
[Paul sees Isobel running past the marquee] She told me she was busy!

Chester Grant:
She is busy. Playing you like a big old fish. In a kilt! Take it from me, son, that girl's not good for you.

Paul Bowman-MacDonald:
You know how it is, Chester. If a thing's worth having, it's worth chasing. [Paul sets off to run after Isobel]

[first lines]

Hector:
Now, what or who would you say that was, Monty? [looks through telescope and sees a stag] Good lord! Big Eric!

[last lines]

Archie:
[on the phone] Justine? Hello, sweetheart, it's me. How did the do go? Great. [pause] Yeah. Listen, Justine, I've got a bit of a problem here.

Maureen:
He's returned.

Katrina:
Who, Maureen? The Jedi, Jesus Christ, Elvis Presley?

Hector:
[At breakfast] Where are my Marmite soldiers?

Lexie McTavish:
I had them court martialed and shot.

Hector:
I always have Marmite soldiers with my boiled egg!

Lexie McTavish:
Bairns will be bairns.

Hector:
I am Hector Naismith MacDonald, 14th chief of an ancient line. Laird of Glenbogle, Ochintummel and Blawearie. Or to you girl just plain "Sir".

Lexie McTavish:
Ach, away and play with your lineage.

Hector:
Tell me, how's that bar of yours doing?

Molly MacDonald:
Hector, behave.

Archie:
It's not a bar, it's a restaurant. It opened last night.

Hector:
Never thought a son of mine would turn out a publican. I blame that awful Thatcher woman.

Molly MacDonald:
Hector, must you be so rude?

Hector:
Bad behaviour is one of the few privileges of old age.

Golly Mackenzie:
Right, gentlemen. We're about to come up to the beasts, so keep low and don't even fart unless I give you permission.

Lexie:
[takes away Hector's plate] Enjoy that, did you, Hector?

Hector:
It smells of wet dog.

Lexie:
And I love you too.

[first lines]

Hector:
[takes letter] Aah! Thank you, Lexie.

Archie:
Anything for me?

Hector:
I fear not.

Archie:
What about that? It's from the bank, look.

Hector:
Yes, but it's addressed to me. See: Hector N. Macdonald, Esquire.

Archie:
[reching for it] It must be estated business.

Hector:
I had hoped the new world order would allow a chap to open his own correspondence.

Lexie:
Well, Mr Fleming... oh, heck, this is no good. What's your first name?

Fleming:
Me?

Lexie:
I'm not cross-eyed, pet. I am looking into your deep blue eyes.

Fleming:
I, uh, I, I, I couldn't possibly say.

Lexie:
Huh. Man of mystery, eh? Well, I'll wheedle it out of you one way or the other.

Fleming:
Tell Lexie it's Lancelot.

Archie:
Hm?

Fleming:
My name.

[last lines]

Archie:
Right!

Justine:
We need to talk. Now.

Archie:
[to Lexie, who is holding a frying-pan] Jokes are one thing; I can take as many as you throw down. But sabotage is another.

[she spins around to look at Duncan in amazement, realizing he was the one who put poison in Fleming's salmon, then turns back]

Archie:
This is probably meaningless, but what the hell: you're sacked.

Lexie:
[as he storms off] Archie!

Lexie:
[turns slowly to then advances on Duncan] Right - start talkin', slapbeat!

Duncan:
I did it for you, honest! To show I cared.

[in the dining room, Hector hears a metallic bang and Duncan's yell]

Duncan:
Ow!

Hector:
Where would we be if Bonnie Prince Charlie suddenly started winning the Battle of Culloden?

Kilwillie:
Living in a country that had been independent for two and a half centuries, probably.

Hector:
What an appalling thought.

Lexie:
You've got visitors.

Archie MacDonald:
Well who is it?

Lexie:
[talking about Katrina and the school kids] Julie Andrews and the Von Trapp Family!

[first lines]

Archie:
Justine.

Justine:
Did you sleep all right?

Archie:
Eventually, thanks.

Justine:
Missed you. Come back to bed.

Archie:
Are you sure?

Hector MacDonald:
Good night, Jamie.

[starts to walk upstairs with Molly, Archie stands from where he is sitting on the bottom]

Archie MacDonald:
Father - I'm not Jamie. I never was - I never will be. I'm me. My name is Archie, okay?

Hector MacDonald:
I'm so sorry. Perhaps you'd prefer it if *I* retrieved your stick. Sometimes I wonder what the point of you two is.

Molly MacDonald:
I stopped buying clothes years ago, when the money ran out. I don't even buy knickers any more.

Justine:
Really? So...

Molly MacDonald:
I just don't bother wearing them.

Justine:
Molly!

Molly MacDonald:
It's wonderful. I do recommend it. It's rather a splendid thing making sensual discoveries at my time of life.

[first lines]

Archie:
Hello.

Xavier:
Oh, sorry, I... I was, uh, just driving down. I stopped to admire the view.

Archie:
Ah, so you must have seen the sign on the main road.

Xavier:
Sign?

Archie:
Glenbogle Bed and Breakfast.

Xavier:
Bed and Breakfast. Times have changed around here.

Xavier:
I actually wrote a paper on ancient highland laws and customs. I never came across that one about the grazing rights.

Archie:
Oh, yes, an extremely ancient one that I just made up.

Xavier:
Ah, that would explain it.

Hector MacDonald:
What do women want from men, Lexie?

Lexie McTavish:
Money. Security. Respect. A nice, tight bum. Oh, sorry, did you want those in order of preference?

Lexie McTavish:
Aye, well, here's another tip fro the kitchen: what's sauce for the goose, is sauce for the scrawny old gander.

Duncan McKay:
That man Xavier, he's looking for an heir to the Ballantine Estate. I saw his papers upstairs.

Archie:
And you just accidentally happened to read them? I asked you to fix his window, Duncan, not turn his room over.

Duncan McKay:
I couldn't help it. I saw the name. Ballantine. That's my granny's name.

Archie:
Oh, so that makes you Duke of the Highlands, I suppose?

Duncan McKay:
Maybe. Eventually.

Archie:
Well, before you head off to the palace, could I have the keys to the Land Rover, please?

Lexie McTavish:
Oh, they're in his other cloak. The one with the ermine collar.

Duncan McKay:
She needs new plugs, but you should be okay.

Archie:
Cheers.

Lexie McTavish:
I suppose from now on you'll be traveling in a sedan chair, borne by comely and compliant maidens.

Duncan McKay:
You volunteering?

Lexie McTavish:
You need to lose some weight first. Starting off with that fat head.

Duncan McKay:
Oh, go ahead. Mock.

Lexie McTavish:
Don't worry, I will.

Hector MacDonald:
What a man does or doesn't do in his own house is his own business. I mean, if you want to torture yourself, go ahead.

Molly MacDonald:
I have no intention of torturing myself. That's always been your job, and you excel at it.

Golly Mackenzie:
[Talking about Duncan's grandmother] His granny was a Ballantine all right. Her first husband was killed at Dunkirk, just a few weeks after the wedding. Married again in '42, Alex McKay was his name. A cousin of my father's actually.

Duncan McKay:
You mean we're related?

Golly Mackenzie:
Around here everyone's related, son. But it's not something to boast about, if you know what I mean.

Archie MacDonald:
Glenbogle Spring Water - the taste of the Highlands. I can't believe I didn't think of this before, people will pay good money for pure water. We start off by selling to restaurants then release it in a few selected chains, build a reputation, go national. We could even take on Europe.

Katrina:
Easy, Adolf!

Archie MacDonald:
[after he finds out his sister Lizzie is coming to stay] Well, write back, tell her we've moved to Australia.

Lexie:
[answers the phone] Glenbogle Refuge for New-Age Dropouts.

[first lines]

Archie:
Katrina, hi.

Katrina:
You're up bright and early.

Archie:
Yeah, I know; I have work to do today.

Katrina:
Work. You still haven't grasped the concept of being a laird, have you?

Archie:
I suppose if I was a schoolteacher, I could knock off at three o'clock.

Katrina:
Are you looking for a fight?

[last lines]

Katrina:
If you're still looking for a bottling plant, I know of one going cheap.

Archie:
Where?

Katrina:
Put it this way - what's in it for me?

Archie:
Katrina, where? Tell me.

Katrina:
Might do.

Archie:
No, seriously.

Katrina:
Ask nicely.

Archie:
Katrina, please, will you just tell me?

Katrina:
Oh, getting desperate now!

Hector MacDonald:
Hear that, Archie? A grandson to carry on the family name.

Archie MacDonald:
Marvelous. Congratulations, Liz.

Lizzie MacDonald:
It might be a grand*daughter*.

Hector MacDonald:
Oh. Well, better than nothing, isn't it?

Molly MacDonald:
Lizzie, I know I'm hopelessly old fashioned, but we haven't missed anything, have we? Like an engagement?

Lizzie MacDonald:
Mummy...

Hector MacDonald:
Mmm... I see. Time you took matters in hand, I think.

[hands Archie something]

Archie MacDonald:
What's this?

Hector MacDonald:
Keys to the shotgun rack.

Archie MacDonald:
Father, surely a rifle would be more humane.

Hector MacDonald:
I'm talking about family honour, damn it.

Archie MacDonald:
Well, a bit late to worry about that.

Molly MacDonald:
Archie, don't ask us to choose between the two of you.

Archie MacDonald:
I'd never do that. I don't want to hear the answer.

Hector MacDonald:
Lexie - a plate of your finest cinders!

Molly MacDonald:
How's the new well going?

Archie MacDonald:
It's a rather small hole in the ground filled with rain water.

Molly MacDonald:
Really? I thought we had lots of those.

Hector MacDonald:
Where did you spring from?

Lizzie MacDonald:
Your loins. Had you forgotten?

Hector MacDonald:
You're home now, girlie. We don't discuss loins in public.

Lizzie MacDonald:
How are you two?

Molly MacDonald:
Oh, much the same. A little seized up at the joints.

Lizzie MacDonald:
You should let Neil give you a massage. He's very talented.

Lizzie MacDonald:
Really? How interesting. Shiatsu?

Hector MacDonald:
Bless you.

Archie MacDonald:
So what's this big idea of yours?

Lizzie MacDonald:
Gerald.

Archie MacDonald:
Gerald's the big idea?

Lizzie MacDonald:
He's a healer, Archie. He has the most amazing power to tap into your soul. Once word gets around, we'll be fighting off the punters with boiling oil.

Archie MacDonald:
So that's why you're here, you and your... hangers-on.

Lizzie MacDonald:
They're alternative therapists. They're qualified in aromatherapy, reflexology, homeopathy.

Archie MacDonald:
I know, we could call it the Glenbogle Home for Gullible Hypochondriacs.

Gerald Matthews:
This is an extraordinary place. The elements, total harmony. The yin and the yang.

Hector MacDonald:
Oh yes, I've heard of them. Those two pandas they couldn't get to breed.

[first lines]

Hector:
They'll be here any minute.

Golly:
Calm down, Hector.

Hector:
We haven't won this race for years. It's time to restore the family honour, Golly.

Hector:
[to an exiting Archie] Who are these people you're meeting?

Molly:
They're coming to help Archie market the spring water. Nothing sinister.

Hector:
Of course it's sinister; they're from Glasgow.

Molly:
Why don't you go and enjoy yourself?

Hector:
How, exactly?

Molly:
Oh, I don't know. Shoot something; that usually cheers you up.

[last lines]

Gavin:
[to Roger] So. How often do you work out?

Duncan McKay:
And he agrees I don't belong here. Reckons I should move to Glasgow, find myself.

Lexie McTavish:
What if you're not there when you get there?

Archie MacDonald:
How did that ring end up in the loch?

Hector:
Didn't you hear? Red Bonnet put it there.

Archie MacDonald:
Father...

Hector:
I lost it swimming. Stupid thing to do. "Damn stupid thing to do, Hector," my father said. "You really let me down. I despair of you ever amounting to anything." Well, I wanted to tell him that it was an accident, it could have happened to anyone, that I was sorry, sorry I'd let him down.

Archie MacDonald:
Well, why didn't you?

Hector:
Because he was a cantankerous old git who was impossible to talk to. Can you imagine having a father like that?

Archie MacDonald:
No. No, I can't.

Lexie McTavish:
Duncan, you'll hate Glasgow. It's full of scary and selfish people, and that's just my family.

Katrina:
[wondering why the jobless aren't at the polling station] Most of them are working today.

Alan Smythe:
They're unemployed.

Mr. Slurpy:
You've ruined my strawberry surprise. It's full of dust and grass.

Lexie:
Well, it wouldn't be full of strawberries, would it.

[last lines]

Katrina:
First of all, I would like to thank the returning officer.

Molly:
There are days and nights in which one is the fly, and rare, magical moments in which one is at long last the windscreen.

Golly Mackenzie:
Walk tall, walk straight, and look the world right in the eye.

Duncan McKay:
Right, that's good. Who said that?

Golly Mackenzie:
One of the giants of Celtic culture.

Duncan McKay:
What's his name... Robert the Bruce?

Archie MacDonald:
Robbie Burns?

Golly Mackenzie:
Val Doonican.

Hector MacDonald:
The last time Lexie went awol...

Lexie:
When my Aunt Maggie had the temerity to expire suddenly, you mean?

Hector MacDonald:
Golly prepared dinner. He presented me with an omelette that looked and tasted like a polystyrene tile.

Hector MacDonald:
There are some things up with which one shall not put.

Alan Smythe:
That would have looked a bit odd on the election expenses return. "Petrol money for Bank of England Harley Davidson Club."

Katrina:
When you get back I want to talk to you about your responsibilities as a landlord. I've just been to see some of your properties and they're in a terrible state.

Archie MacDonald:
Great! Another conversation to look forward to.

[first lines]

Hector:
Come on. I'm only obeying orders.

Archie:
Not right now, Father, please.

Hector:
In your very interesting lecture, 'Glenbogle: the business', you said, and I quote, good communications is at the heart of every thriving enterprise. So...

Archie:
When I get back, OK?

Hector:
There's a spot of damp in the wine cellar. Thought it imperative you be informed without delay. Thank you very much.

Fleming:
When I was born, I was so ugly the doctor slapped my mother.

Archie:
You know what they say: Asking a voter what he thinks about politicians is a bit like asking lampposts what they think about dogs.

[last lines]

Archie:
I suppose in a way the other way would have been easier. The decision was made for me: burn my boats in London and settle here. But now I have to decide for myself. What to do about me and Justine. What to do about me and you.

Katrina:
Oh. Is there such a thing as me and you? [they look at each other for a moment then lean in to kiss before starting at the sound of a braking car]

Archie:
Justine!

Justine:
[comes over] I had to come. I felt so desolate. I can't lose you, Archie. Maybe I can change. Maybe I can come and live here, with you. Make our lives here. What do you think?

Duncan:
[sees Fleming] Not that daft goat again.

Molly MacDonald:
Happy anniversary, you sentimental old fool.

Hector:
I wanted to buy you a ruby, but the fireworks were cheaper.

Duncan:
Everybody's happy!

Hector:
[grinning wickedly] Apart from *Killwillie*.

Archie MacDonald:
Archie, listen, you still haven't resolved this business about your tenants. Mrs. MacLean's kitchen's in an awful state.

Katrina:
Can I just say...

Archie MacDonald:
She's got a damp patch the size of the North Sea.

Katrina:
A damp patch? I'll show you a damp patch. [drags her off]

Archie MacDonald:
Archie! [stops when they turn a corner and view the flooded cellar] Archie, this is terrible. What are you going to do?

Katrina:
I dunno. Throw myself into it?

Archie MacDonald:
I hope I'll always have your support, maybe even your respect, despite my status as resident futile relic and pet punchbag.

Fleming:
Well, the sporting site and the paying guests are starting to produce a decent income. You're almost not making a loss. Well done.

Hector:
[calling Fleming] Ah, banker-chappie.

Katrina:
Speaking of which, do you know how Golly got his name?

[Lexie shakes her head]

Katrina:
A woman down the village told me. Apparently one summer years ago, when Hector could afford more staff, Golly took a bonny young lass to a dance, Gay Gordoned the stockings off her, and took her down by the river.

Lexie:
For a kanoodle?

Katrina:
One thing led to another, as they do. She unbuttoned her frock, he undid his... and she was so amazed, so flabbergasted, by what confronted her she cried:

Katrina, Lexie:
GOLLY!

Lexie:
[he shakes pepper on his pork] It *is* seasoned, Hector.

Molly MacDonald:
Archie, perhaps you'd tell your father that it is an insult to the cook to fling condiments on a carefully-prepared dish like that?

Hector:
Archie, would you tell your mother to mind her own business, and keep her elegant nose out of my dinner?

[sneezes]

Fleming:
I had a brainwave. You know that notion of selling the village, Archie?

Archie MacDonald:
Oh, yeah.

Fleming:
I thought of someone who might give you a good price.

Hector:
What do you mean, "sell the village"?

Fleming:
Another client of the bank. A rather good client, actually.

Hector:
who?

Fleming:
Your friend and neighbor Killwillie.

Hector:
Killwillie?

Fleming:
He said that that land once belonged to *his* family, Mr. MacDonald, until yours stole it with considerable bodily harm in 1588. He wants it back and is happy to pay bigtime for it.

Hector:
Over my dead body!

Lexie:
[setting down wine] That can easily be arranged.

Hector:
Now look h...

[sneezes again]

Molly MacDonald:
Mr. Fleming, that sounds an excellent idea.

[Hector flings down his napkin and gets up to storm off]

Molly MacDonald:
Where are you going?

Hector:
The stench of betrayal, has ruined my appetite.

[sneezes]

Molly MacDonald:
I don't suppose he'll remember. Never does. Sorry, as you were. He did remember our 25th. Even gave me a gift. The collected works of Sir Walter Scott, bound in deerskin. It sadly wasn't properly cured and the dogs tore it to bits one day in a wild, animalistic frenzy.

Hector:
Man and wife in the same bedroom? It's not natural!

Hector:
I've been slapping down uppity females for 40 years. Not going to stop now.

Molly MacDonald:
Oh, Hector, you couldn't slap anyone down. Even if you were holding a large wet haddock in each hand.

Katrina Finlay:
Archie MacDonald, you are maddening!

Hector MacDonald:
Man and wife in the same bedroom? It's not natural!

Lexie McTavish:
Are you piping this beast in or not?

Golly Mackenzie:
Justine said not to bother with that stromash any more.

Lexie McTavish:
Oh she did, did she? Well, why don't we all just stop wearing kilts, eating deep fried Mars bars and hating the English, with other ancient Scottish traditions.

Hector:
Molly, that cell-like chamber downstairs.

Molly MacDonald:
The drawing room, yes.

Hector:
There's a hole in the wall.

Molly MacDonald:
It's called a hatch. I shall be conveying your supper through it. Baked beans on toast, and so on.

Hector:
Dreadfully suburban.

[first lines]

Kilwillie:
Right, old man. The great day dawns.

Hector:
Absolutely. But you know, Kilwillie, I had this strange feeling.

Kilwillie:
You're not ill, are you?

Hector:
Sweating palms, palpitations. Inability to concentrate, uncontrollable shaking.

Kilwillie:
Nothing out of the ordinary there, then.

Hector:
Absolutely not. Come on.

[last lines]

Kilwillie:
Well, magical moment.

Molly:
To your first-born, Archie.

Hector:
And don't hang about.

Archie:
Well, the way things are going, I wouldn't hold your breath. Slange.

Kilwillie, Molly, Hector:
Slange.

[all four down the whiskey, then choke]

Hector:
It's gone off. Tough luck, old man.

[starts to laugh]

Hector:
It's gone off.

Archie MacDonald:
Go away, and leave me and my barrel to sleep in peace.

Hector Naismith MacDonald:
Rotter.

Kilwillie:
Let's all get as squiffy as 40 billy goats!

Golly Mackenzie:
Would you like a beer?

Molly:
Oh, no thanks. It always makes me fart. And we can't have flatulence amongst the ruling classes, can we?

Molly:
Oh Duncan, you look like a porn star from the 1970s.

Katrina Finlay:
All we have to do is nobble the committee before the meeting.

Hector MacDonald:
You're becoming devious, Miss Finlay.

Katrina Finlay:
No I'm not, I'm becoming a politician.

Katrina:
I think you deserve a reward.

Fergal MacClure:
Ahh, and what did you have in mind?

Katrina:
[they laugh] Hmmm, coffee?

Fergal MacClure:
Well, I've a million things to do. You can thank me another time - without MI5 observing us.

[Katrina turns round to see 20 of her school children watching the pair]

Archie MacDonald:
I'm sorry to disappoint you all, but I am going to my room and I shall emerge sometime after my 70th birthday!

Molly MacDonald:
Do you need a hand?

Lexie:
I need several pairs.

Hector MacDonald:
At least you understand responsibility. Loyalty. Duty.

[the camera moves and we see he is talking to his dogs]

Hector:
Good Lord, by the time I was thirty, I had three children.

Molly:
I know; I was there.

Archie:
Oh, so that's what this is about: not my future bride, but your future grandchild.

Hector:
You have a responsibility to your lineage.

Archie:
Stay out of my private life, do you hear? If you don't, I'll... I'll... I'll have the snip.

Hector:
Snip?

Archie:
I will have my lineage cut off!

[last lines]

[Fergal and Katrina are sitting by the loch]

Fergal:
I'd better go. [pause] See you soon.

[they kiss]

Hector MacDonald:
This house is tainted by a lack of moral responsibility.

Archie MacDonald:
And what about you, Father. Isn't this your cue for a special speech?

Hector MacDonald:
What speech is that, lad?

Lexie:
The same speech we've heard every day this week.

Archie MacDonald:
The one that goes "when I was your age I'd liberated Europe from the Hun and sired half a polo team".

Hector:
[about his dogs] Honestly. I'd be better off with a team of gerbils.

Hector:
If you'll excuse me... I'm just going to count the spoons...

Hector:
Clear out or I'll set the dogs on you. And they'd lick you to death.

[first lines]

Archie:
OK, everyone. Dunc, we need that fire going.

Hector:
That's my Saville Row suit; I wear that.

Archie:
And you can carry on wearing it if you don't mind being stuffed and mounted.

[last lines]

Golly:
[to Archie as he hands Archie ?10] Like I said, son... you lose.

Molly MacDonald:
I am so, so stupid. I nearly lost everything.

Hector:
Only the necklace, my darling. You'd still have had me. Not that I'd fetch as much.

Molly:
I think you're giving away the bride, but not in that jumper.

Archie:
Where are you going?

Lexie:
I'm just gonna help my mum pack.

Archie:
Did you want a hand?

Lexie:
No. I'm just gonna chuck her clothes out the window!

Archie:
[Lexie is putting some food in the oven] If you're sticking your head in there Lex, move over.

Lexie:
No point - it isn't gas!

Archie MacDonald:
[the guests for the wedding don't like bagpipes] The customer is always right.

Golly Mackenzie:
The customer is a cloth-eared loon.

[first lines]

Katrina:
Fergal. How did you get in?

Fergal:
The usual way. Through the front door.

Katrina:
I'm not sure if I approve of you sneaking in here and making me breakfast.

Fergal:
I know.

Katrina:
I'm the headmistress of the local school; I've got my reputation to think of.

Fergal:
Sweetheart, we're five miles from the nearest town and hundreds of miles from civilization. Who's even going to know I'm here?

[last lines]

Katrina:
Look after Archie for me, OK? I hope you two will be very happy together.

Lexie:
There is no 'us two'. Not the way you mean. What you saw the other day was just... we're both a bit lost. Need a bit of reassurance; that's all. Not that I wouldn't mind if we did. Someday. Maybe after you're gone. I'm not catching him on the rebound. Good luck to you too, OK.

Katrina:
See ya.

Duncan:
How do I look?

Lexie:
Like a gorilla in a kilt.

Duncan:
Thank you.

Lexie:
But a sexy gorilla.

Archie:
[about Lexie's mother, Pamela] She envies your... independence, your self-reliance, your self-assurance. And your looks.

Lexie:
Stop it, Arch!

Archie:
OK.

Lexie:
No, go on!

Archie:
I mean it, Lexie, you are everything that she wants to be. I know you had a terrible childhood and I can't begin to imagine it, but you're you, in spite of all your... disadvantages. And that just makes you more amazing.

Lexie:
Thanks, Arch; you're a very sweet man. In spite of all your... advantages.

Archie:
Come on. [they hug] Now. No more talk about leaving Glenbogle, OK? You are wanted here.

Lexie:
What for? You're a better cook than I am.

Archie:
For your... Lexieness.

Lexie:
Wanted by whom?

Archie:
By everyone.

Lexie:
Including you?

Archie:
Especially me.

[they kiss]

Lexie:
Well, like you say: men are like buses. Nothing for ages, then three arrive at once, eh.

Pamela:
Aye, well... the bus service 'round here ain't what it used to be, eh.

Golly Mackenzie:
I can do requests. Give me a tune, an'thing you like.

Archie MacDonald:
Can you play Far, Far Away?

Archie MacDonald:
The customer is always right.

Golly Mackenzie:
The customer's a cloth-eared loon.

Hector MacDonald:
Never heard of this chap Morton. One of thouse nouveau riche Johnnies, I suppose. Make all their money out of arms dealing and pornography.

Archie:
Whereas we made ours from stealing sheep and subjugating the peasants.

Hector MacDonald:
She's got a mind like a midden and a mouth like a Highland bog... and I like her already.

Archie:
Lexie, where are you going?

Lexie:
I'm just going to slip into something more comfortable, like a taxi to Glasgow!

Hector MacDonald:
It's time the local brats got out of this bible-thumping back water. Every Sunday they're dragged off to church and barraged about Hell and damnation. No wonder they grow up to be superstitious buffoons. Do them good to get away from all that religious twaddle.

Lizzie MacDonald:
[referring to Katrina going to New Zealand] She won't be much use as a godmother if she's on the other side of the world, will she?

Archie MacDonald:
No, she won't.

Lizzie MacDonald:
Well then...?

Fergal MacClure:
Kiwi fruit and off we shoot.

Molly MacDonald:
Oh, how lovely. You're coming back to spawn at the place of your birth, just like a salmon.

Hector:
Pass Lexie's burnt toast, would you, dear?

Billy:
And, uh, who might you be?

Golly:
They call me Golly.

Billy:
Golly, the gillie?

Golly:
That is my name, friend; don't wear it out. [pause] You'll be Kilwillie's new gillie, Billy,

[first lines]

Archie:
Now, you will tell Lizzie that I'm sorry I can't be there, but what with everything I have...

Molly:
I'm sure she'll understand. I'll give you a call as soon as I've any news.

Archie:
Right.

Kilwillie:
Good trip, Molly; bring back a bucking son and heir.

Molly:
I'll try.

[to Hector]

Molly:
Oh darling, are you absolutely sure you won't come?

Hector:
Childbirth's not really my bag, darling, all that yelling and thrashing about.

Molly:
I'll give you a call as soon as we get to London.

Hector:
I expect a full report: height, weight, condition of teeth, and so on.

Lexie:
I don't think a newborn baby's supposed to have any teeth.

Hector:
I mean the father. Find out when the bounder's going to make an honest woman of my daughter.

Hector:
Kilwillie, I was once told that when you were a tubby little tuckedy, you used to cheat at conkers. I didn't believe it. Until now.

Molly MacDonald:
Don't bait your father, dear. He may be an insufferable dinosaur but there's no need to stoop to his level. It's like teasing a child.

Molly MacDonald:
Do you know, I had all three of my children in this house and hector managed, somehow, not to be here each and every time.

Hector:
I couldn't bear to see you suffer, all that thrashing about.

Molly MacDonald:
He was still in the Reserves, of course, when Jamie was born.

Hector:
Posted overseas.

Molly MacDonald:
Cheltenham. And then when you Lizzie came along, he and Kilwillie went off to the Royal Highland Show. Came back three days later, still roaring drunk with some kind of combine harvester.

Hector:
Massey Ferguson 340. Still in perfect working order.

Lizzie MacDonald:
I didn't think we did combine harvesting.

Archie MacDonald:
We don't.

Molly MacDonald:
And then with Archie, we did manage to keep him that time. Locked all the doors, battened down the hatches and then we found a rope ladder hanging down from the tower. Eventually got a phone call two days later from a B&B in, oh where was it again? Stromness.

Hector:
Ullapool, actually.

Molly MacDonald:
I'm not speaking to you.

Kilwillie:
[looking at Lizzie's baby] It's uncanny how they all manage to look like Winston Churchill.

Molly:
[to Archie] Break a leg, darling. But not really.

Duncan:
[about the stairs in Glenbogle] It's just a short climb. Oxygen tanks to be picked up at base camp on the second floor.

Duncan:
[to Angus] You are nothing. You're less than nothing. You are minus nothing to the power ten.

[shouts]

Duncan:
Do you get me?

Joe MacDonald:
Morning.

Golly Mackenzie:
Is it?

Joe MacDonald:
Who was that?

Hector MacDonald:
Our head man, Mackenzie.

Joe MacDonald:
Ah, what's he like?

Hector MacDonald:
Well, he's all right when he's not on strike. Or drunk. Best avoided, then. Fearful temper.

Joe MacDonald:
And when he's sober?

Hector MacDonald:
When he's sober? Well... he's never completely sober. Sad, really.

Molly:
I thought if you're going to be spending more time here, I should show you the local shops.

Bonnie MacDonald:
Great. Is there a mall?

Molly:
Oh, the shop's here.

Bonnie MacDonald:
Just the one?

Molly:
The garage and the funeral director are down there.

Bonnie MacDonald:
That's it? You get everything you need here?

Molly:
On, there's a sweet little supermarket an hour's drive that way.

Bonnie MacDonald:
Clothes? Make-up? Accessories?

Molly:
Harrods, 12 hours that way.

Hector MacDonald:
The clan used the procedure centuries ago to find the best leader, the man most worthy. I thought you'd like that kind of challenge, Joe.

Kilwillie:
If you with to be considered a gentleman, that is.

Joe MacDonald:
I'm not a gentleman, I'm an American.

[first lines]

Katrina:
What time's the woman from the bank getting here?

Archie:
Any time now. I've got Duncan on guard duty.

Katrina:
Is that wise? First impressions and all that.

[last lines]

Stella:
[adrift on raft] DUNCAN! DUNCAN!

Golly:
No. Leave her be. She needs to learn the first rule of life up here.

Duncan:
What's that?

Golly:
You come into this world naked, wet and cold.

Duncan:
Aye.

Golly:
And then things really get bad.

Stella:
DUNCAN! DUNCAN! DUNCAN!

Golly:
You can't have everything. I mean, if you did, where would you put it all?

Archie:
My family have lives in this spot since the 14th century. Of course there was once a stone keep here but the English soon burnt it down after Culloden.

Stella:
Mr MacDonald, I have seen Braveheart.

Hector MacDonald:
The last time I saw a face like yours a midwife was slapping it!

Golly:
You can't have everything. If you did, where would you put it?

Hector MacDonald:
[Killwillie doubts the thing Hector has deemed a great pike may not be a fish] What do you think pulled me into the water - a missing Soviet submarine? Well, come on. Any bright ideas?

Kilwillie:
I'm directing every particle of brain-power at the problem.

Hector MacDonald:
Hm, very reassuring.

Archie MacDonald:
Well, I've been thinking.

Lexie:
Arch, I wish you wouldn't do that!

Hector MacDonald:
I'm going fishing.

Jolyon:
What a capital idea.

Hector MacDonald:
[to the dog] Come on, Useless.

Duncan:
[running up] Coming...

Hector MacDonald:
Not y... Oh, forget it.

[last lines]

Golly Mackenzie:
[runs up with Duncan] Archie, son...

Duncan:
Your dad. It's your dad, Archie.

Archie MacDonald:
[he and Lexie grin] What's the old fool done now?

[the two look at him]

Kilwillie:
[inside, calling up toward where she paints] Molly! Molly!

Molly MacDonald:
Killwillie? What do you want?

[first lines]

Hector MacDonald:
[to his new dog] And... fetch!

[the dog does not respond when the ball, except to look at a dog barking from the doorstep where he sits with the others]

Hector MacDonald:
I'll explain it once more. Now, when I throw the ball - see the ball, see, made of rubber, round, all right, that's a ball - when I throw it over there, you run after it, pick it up, bring it back to me. All right? Quite simple. And... fetch!

[tosses the ball, again the ball looks after it but merely turns back to face him]

Hector MacDonald:
You see, fetching - is what dogs *do*. It's a service performed by, uh, canus familiarus, that's the Latin for dog. It's what you do, uh, what all of us have done ever since we lived in caves together, you don't have to think about it, don't think about, just *do* it. Do it. And - fetch!

[the dog only whimpers when he throws it, glancing at those on the step once more]

Hector MacDonald:
I can see you're going to be trouble.

[the dog whimpers]

Hector MacDonald:
[muffled, with the ball in his mouth as he crawls forth] Now, like this, like that, let's go through it once more, and then you drop it, all right.

[releases the ball from his mouth]

Hector MacDonald:
All right? Did you *get* that?

Molly MacDonald:
[as he puts it back in his mouth and the dog whimpers as she calls from just outside the house] Hector - come inside, Archie's some sort of announcement to make.

Hector MacDonald:
[muffled once more] In a minute!... Now watch, I'm ready, like that, all right, and you drop it

[releases it from his mouth again]

Hector MacDonald:
like that.

[the dog gazes at the ball then back up at him, Hector stands]

Hector MacDonald:
Well, at least I've solved the problem of what to call you. Come on, then - Useless.

Hector MacDonald:
Archie, I hope this is not going to take *too* long.

Golly Mackenzie:
I've got a map to pick up from the library, Archie.

Molly MacDonald:
Archie, darling, I promised to give a talk for the Golf Club ladies on a new approach to sandwich design.

Hector MacDonald:
And I'm going fishing with Useless.

Duncan:
And I have something really important to do, as well... It's quite important.

Archie MacDonald:
[shares an amused glance with Lexie] Well, shouldn't take too long, should they? Just seven words.

Lexie:
Eight.

Archie MacDonald:
[as a horn sounds outside] The thing is...

Molly MacDonald:
[goes to look out the window] It can't be. Can it? It is! It's Jo! It's Jo!

Hector MacDonald:
Hell.

Duncan:
[following them and Golly toward the doorway] Will you excuse me, it's just that there's something more interesting happening, outside.

[goes]

Archie MacDonald:
...Lexie and I are going to get married. Yeah, you're right, it *is* eight words.

Hector MacDonald:
Molly, I refuse to be insulted in the hallway of my own house!

Molly MacDonald:
Would you rather be insulted in the hallway of someone else's house? That can easily be arranged!

Kilwillie:
Everything all right, Monsieur Cousteau!

[Hector waves]

Kilwillie:
If I see any suspicious-looking fins, I'll go like this: dum-dum-dum-dum dum-dum-dum-dum...

Golly Mackenzie:
[Golly hands Hector a fishing fly] Take this. If there are fish in that loch, and I'm damn sure there are, then you'll catch some with that. As Duncan says, it'll be as easy as pulling at a grab a granny night in a disco in Wick.

Hector MacDonald:
I'm baffled by the allusion but I thank you all the same.

Archie MacDonald:
[hanging up a portrait of Hector on the wall] Is he straight?

Molly MacDonald:
As much as he ever was.

Golly:
[waiting for Lexie to turn up at the wedding] Let's face it Archie, she always has had a tendency to overcook things.

[first lines]

McGregor:
The late Mr. MacDonald made a number of wills. In the latest he wrote out the bequests on separate sheets in his own hand, which he was keen for you to read yourselves.

Golly:
I'll, uh..."To my liege man Golly, as true a man as I've ever known, I leave what remains of my once-mighty collection of single malt whiskeys, in the hope that he will toast our association every Saint Andrew's Day." That I will, Hector.

Duncan:
"To my assistant gillie and court jester Duncan, I leave the entire contents of my wardrobe in the hope that this may encourage him to wear something other than that filthy ki...kilt and moth-eaten cardigan he insists on donning every day." It's not a cardy; it's a fleece. I paid eight quid for that.

Lexie:
"To estimable Alexandra, I bequeath a sufficient sum for a new set of saucepans, the remainder to be spent on garments that expose her even more estimable midriff."

Molly:
"To my darling wife, best friend and good companion Molly, I bequeath the rest of my goods and effects as well as my ridiculously puny personal holdings in the hope thay they will help her become a very merry widow."

[last lines]

Archie:
Look, Lex, you don't have to decide now. Just come with me. Come home.

Lexie:
[Lexie hands Archie her bus ticket] Can you not see? I got a return ticket. [she laughs and they hug]

Kilwillie:
[hugging Molly] Well done, well done.

[everybody applauds]

Duncan:
[as the car drives away, leaving him behind] Hey! Hoy!

Golly:
[finding Jo and Killwillie drunk] So much for my inheritance, Hector.

Pamela Morton:
This is lovely, Lex. It reminds me so much of my own wedding.

Lexie:
Which one?

Golly:
[Molly and Golly are sitting up with Hector's coffin the night before the burial] Golly: Do you know how I came to work here, Molly?

Molly MacDonald:
Molly: It was a family thing, wasn't it? Your father worked here, and his father before him and so on.

Golly:
Golly: No, Hector... didn't tell you the story, no?

Molly MacDonald:
Molly: No.

Golly:
Golly: Well, to begin with when I was a boy, I was a bit of a tearaway.

Molly MacDonald:
Molly: Really?

Golly:
Golly: Didn't get on with dad-a hard, unbending man. Used to knock me about, especially when the drink was on. Anyway, when I left school, he got me a place here, but I didn't want that. Under his thumb, under his fist all day. So, what I did is I took a silver tankard from the dining room. I hid it in my bedroom so that-well, I made sure that-my father would find it and haul me up in front of Hector's dad, which he did. And I got the push. By then my father kicked me out so I was disgraced, but I was free of him.

Molly MacDonald:
Molly: So, how...?

Golly:
Golly; Well after I caravaned, Molly, I worked on the roads. I took to the bottle big time. I was a mess. Meanwhile Hector's dad pegged out so Hector became the Laird. And then my father went. He was carrying a stag he'd shot. He just collapsed. Heart attack. Dead before he hit the heather. Anyway, at the funeral, Hector offered me my dad's job. Me... a thief, an outcast. He knew, Molly, he knew. I don't think I'd be here now if he hadn't done that... he saved my life. Underneath all that daftness, he was a great man. I'm so sorry I wasn't with him. I'll be sorry to the end of my days.

Lexie:
Not you as well. She flutters her eyelashes and you're blown away!

Duncan:
Why not? It's always worked for you.

[first lines]

Stella:
So, how many rooms do you have here?

Archie:
Oh, uh, sixty-seven.

Stella:
Sixty-seven rooms to heat, light and maintain? No wonder you're broke.

Archie:
Never needed to. Believe me, Stella, we've already cut our overheads to the bone. If you can find one example of inefficiency, I will be the first to swing the hatchet.

Stella:
So you're back, then.

Lexie:
I heard you had a pool installed upstairs. Thought I might give it a go.

Stella:
You mean Archie worked his masculine charms on you.

Lexie:
I'll tell you about Archie. It takes him a while to get there, but in the end he's loyal to his friends. *That's* why I came back. Loyalty. The only thing you're loyal to is your money. One day you'll find out that your money doesn't give a damn about you.

Molly MacDonald:
You miss having Monty and Rommel to lead you around, don't you?

Hector MacDonald:
[laughing] Yes, they always seemed to know where they were going - happy to get there, even happier to get back... I do miss them, rather, yes.

Molly MacDonald:
Perhaps I could stand in for them.

Hector MacDonald:
Of course you can, darling!

[tosses the stick he was holding and laughs]

Hector MacDonald:
Fetch?

Stella:
So tell me about Golly. Was he born on the estate?

Archie:
Not exactly. He was hewn out of the same rock as this house. You won't budge him so easily.

Stella:
But he's one of these guys that lives to work, isn't he?

Archie:
You're looking for his weak point.

Stella:
It's standard procedure.

Archie:
According to who? Thatcher's Bumper Book of Strike Busting?

Stella:
[looking at the estate's broken down generator] What's the matter with it?

Archie:
Well apart from anything else it belongs in a museum.

Stella:
I thought it was in a museum.

Archie MacDonald:
[visiting Golly in a police cell] Lexie made this for you.

[He unveils a cake]

Golly Mackenzie:
Is there a file in it?

Archie MacDonald:
Hmm, hard to tell.

[first lines]

Archie:
Hi.

Golly:
Uh-huh. I hope there's no film in that thing.

Archie:
Nah, it's digital.

[last lines]

Hector:
[seated at a full dining table] Do I know these people?

Stella:
They're here for the fishing.

Hector:
Oh. I suppose you're going to have them locked up.

Stella:
If the one in the red dicky bow plays footsie with me one more time, I'll do more than lock him up.

Hector:
Ah. I recommend the claymore hanging in the hall. That's if he survives the food, of course. Ah, Lexie.

Lexie:
[to Stella] Can I serve you, Madam?

Stella:
Yes, please. What is it?

Lexie:
It's your favourite. Poached salmon.

Hector:
I'm trying to make contact with Golly. He'll remember the old Morse code... Now let's try, um, "Hello, Golly."

Kilwillie:
[singsong voice] You're looking swell, - Golly...

Hector:
Please! This is no laughing matter.

Lexie:
How's Golly?

Archie MacDonald:
Not good. He hasn't even started your cake.

Lexie:
What's wrong with my cake? Let me guess, you prefer my buns. You know, if you ever fancy a nibble...

Hector:
This house is taking in more paying guests than a Parisian knocking shop on Bastille Day.

Lexie:
[referring to Stella and Archie] She says jump, and he asks, "Oh, how high?"

Stuart Macintosh:
Stuart Macintosh.

Hector MacDonald:
Macintosh! Do you realise you're on MacDonald land?

Kilwillie:
Hector, this is the 21st century. The clan wars are long over.

Hector MacDonald:
No news on the wake then?

Molly MacDonald:
For the last time Hector, they're not having one.

Hector MacDonald:
It's a damn disgrace. Music and dancing, that's what I want when I go, and plenty of it.

Molly MacDonald:
Oh believe me, dear, there will be.

Archie MacDonald:
I can stay here for days. I've got the Times Croswords.

Lexie McTavish:
You're useless at crosswords.

Archie MacDonald:
Exactly.

Golly Mackenzie:
Right, Hector. Tunnel or wooden horse?

Hector MacDonald:
If I die first... you have my permission... to eat me.

Molly MacDonald:
The Oxford English Dictionary defines a dungeon as a subterranean stone cellar for the incarceration and correction of the guilty. Incarceration may be over, but the correction is about to begin.

Hector MacDonald:
This is a problem that requires two minds and a single malt.

Molly MacDonald:
Lexie, have you seen the family bible?

Lexie McTavish:
It's in the estate office propping up the desk.

[first lines]

Duncan:
Welcome to Glenbogle, heart of the highlands.

Toby:
I take it you're working for Stella.

Duncan:
Sorry?

Toby:
She's always been great at motivating people, but getting them to stand out in traffic... she's really excelled herself.

[Molly throws Duncan a book]

Duncan:
"The Art of War"?

Molly:
A lot of useful advice in there for the aspiring businessman.

Duncan:
[reading] "Employ deception. Although you are competent, appear incompetent." I can manage that.

Molly:
Keep going.

Duncan:
"A bushel of your enemies provisions is worth twenty of our own."

Molly:
Sheep stealing, Duncan, has a long and noble history. Where do you think the aristocracy started?

Molly:
Cheer up. Think positively.

Duncan:
I am. I'm thinking I'm positively crap at this job.

Hector MacDonald:
Now what can we get you? A crate of something or would you prefer cash?

Archie MacDonald:
Father, please.

Hector MacDonald:
Well this is a journalist, isn't it?

Archie MacDonald:
Yes, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's open to bribery.

Graham Lawrence:
Please don't let that stop you from trying.

Graham Lawrence:
You know, I still have your picture by my bed. It scared off burglars.

Stella Moon:
Well I used to have a little statue of you but I threw it away because I couldn't fit any more pins into it.

Duncan:
It's the advertising rates for the local paper. I mean nobody reads it. They just use it to wrap chips.

Molly:
Can't you afford an advertisement?

Duncan:
Oh aye, maybe. If I sell a kidney.

Molly:
Well you'll just have to ask Stella for the money.

Duncan:
I think I'd rather sell the kidney.

Molly MacDonald:
Duncan has a problem.

Lexie:
Just the one?

Molly MacDonald:
His friend, Marie-Helene, has clearly misunderstood one of Duncan's letters. French can be such a tricky language; I mean you ask for a hairbrush and they bring you a horse-brush; it's all too, too muddling. Anyway, as I was saying, dear Marie-Helene seems confused about what it is that Duncan actually does.

Lexie:
Well, that's no surprise. Half the time Duncan's confused about about what he actually does.

Archie MacDonald:
You want me to do Duncan's job, and Duncan to do mine?

Molly MacDonald:
Very good, dear; it would have taken me hours to explain something like that to your father.

Marie-Helene:
Where's the Ferrari?

Duncan:
Um, the Ferrari's got a burst thingy.

Lexie:
Yeah, yeah, it does that all the time. Y'know, bursts it thing.

Duncan:
It's more than that, I've never met anyone like her.

Lexie:
What, French you mean?

Duncan:
No, I mean beautiful and kind and funny.

Lexie:
Oh, thanks!

Lexie:
Here, tele-message for you.

Duncan:
You opened it!

Lexie:
Thought I'd save you the bother.

Molly MacDonald:
[the fire alarm goes off] Is there a fire?

Archie MacDonald:
No, just another one of his safety tests.

Molly MacDonald:
Oh. [starts to follow Archie up the stairs] Oh, um Archie...

Archie MacDonald:
Mother, you've got to leave the house.

Molly MacDonald:
But you said there isn't a fire.

Archie MacDonald:
Okay, the house is in flames, you're going to be burnt to a frazzle.

Molly MacDonald:
Oh, why didn't you tell me, dear? You know how panicked I get.

[she runs around the house madly to try and find things to save]

Archie MacDonald:
What, you think I'm crazy?

Mr. Barr:
No more so than anyone else round here.

Lexie:
Come on, you're a free woman now.

Stella Moon:
So why would I want a man? It's taken me years to get rid of the last one!

Molly MacDonald:
[Thinking the house is on fire] I do hope it's not a big fire. Hector would be terribly disappointed to miss it.

Duncan:
I thought about joining the force myself, you know, when I was younger.

Detective Constable West:
What stopped you?

Duncan:
My mother. She said there was already enough disgrace in the family.

[first lines]

Hector:
Half a century, Molly, since I swore allegiance to king and country. We went into the army as boys - green, callow; came out men - bold and bloody. And now the regiment reunites just as we vowed, fifty years to the day. The old squad all together again for the first time since the war.

Archie:
So how many are coming?

Hector:
Six.

Archie:
Six!

Molly:
What happened to the rest?

Hector:
Eight were untraceable; one's living with a costume designer in Perth, calls himself Judith; another's missing in Acton.

Stella:
Shouldn't that be "action"?

Hector:
No, Acton. suburb of London. Five have moved overseas, two have joined religious orders, six haven't responded, and eleven are no longer with us.

Molly:
What about Toad? He hasn't croaked, has he?

Hector:
Hope not. Hasn't R.S.V.P.'d.

Archie:
Toad?

Molly:
Best man at our wedding. You'd like him, Archie.

Archie:
Now, Golly, are you sure Duncan knows what's at stake?

Golly:
Well, I've made it as clear as I can.

Archie:
I told you we should have sent someone else.

Archie:
We'll just have to come clean. It might not be as big as we think.

Stella:
Wasn't that what they kept saying about the Millennium Dome?

[first lines]

Archie:
Now, this ball is going to be the biggest day of the year. Lascelles are bringing some major investors here, to, uh, show them how they've turned the place around.

Stella:
How we've turned it around. Duncan, you'll organize the parking. Golly, the Americans love the pipes. Molly, our foreign visitors are expecting something between the Queen and the brunette in Braveheart.

Molly:
Leave it to me, dear.

Stella:
Archie and I will be front of house, pressing the flesh, of course. Oh, Lexie, you're in the kitchen.

Lexie:
Surprise, surprise.

Lord Cranthorne:
I've hired and fired more chefs than I've had hot dinners. Almost as many, come to think of it.

Lexie McTavish:
Are you sure you should be cuddling the housekeeper, your lairdship?

Kilwillie:
I'll be around first thing in the morning. Shall we say, umm... 11.30?

Golly Mackenzie:
[Talking about Duncan being Head Keeper to the wolves] You don't think being scared to death of the creatures just a wee bit of a disadvantage?

Duncan McKay:
I'm not scared. I'm in the process of forming a relationship based on mutual respect.

Golly Mackenzie:
Well, they haven't eaten you yet.

Irene Stuart:
Ah, the hunter home from the hill.

Lexie McTavish:
Where are they?

Golly Mackenzie:
I'm afraid there were no rabbits to be had.

Lexie McTavish:
Golly, the estate's overrun. I mean, they breed like... like rabbits.

Kilwillie:
I don't want to fall out with you over this but dash it all, my water's about to furnish the Royal table. I can't have it used by every Tom, Dick and Golly for their ablutions.

Archie MacDonald:
That is both petty and insulting.

Kilwillie:
Petty? Archibald MacDonald, consider our two great and ancient houses in dispute!

Archie MacDonald:
OK.

Molly MacDonald:
Another Glenbogle casualty. People come here and lose the will to leave.

Kilwillie:
Kilwillie's Spring Water will be the most sought after, the most exclusive, the most hideously expensive manifestation of God's great bounty that ever fell upon our heads! Your mission is to guard every drop and trickle of this priceless commodity. Never in the history of bottled water has so much depended on so few.

Badger:
I'd rather be a prisoner of a gentleman than a free man in a world gone mad.

Kilwillie:
Now Lexie, this is men's talk.

Lexie MacDonald:
Out of your backsides as usual.

Archie MacDonald:
Mother, Kilwillie was one of Father's best friends.

Molly MacDonald:
No dear, they played golf together. That is quite different.

Esme:
Is it true you feed rabbits to the wolves?

Golly Mackenzie:
Yup. Archie couldn't find any wolves that were vegetarian.

Duncan McKay:
What are you doing tonight?

Golly Mackenzie:
You mean after I've thrown your computer game into the loch?

Duncan McKay:
Does that keep you awake?

Golly Mackenzie:
No, you playing on it keeps me awake.

Duncan McKay:
I've got to go and check the wolves before I go to bed.

Irene Stuart:
Keep the wolf from the door, eh?

Duncan McKay:
No, they don't have a door. It's like a hole in the ground.

Irene Stuart:
Do you want a hand?

Duncan McKay:
No it's kind of muddy up there.

Irene Stuart:
I don't mind. Where do they sleep?

Duncan McKay:
In a den. Well, the mother will be under the ground with her cub just now. But the really interesting thing is the father wolf goes out to eat and then he comes back to the burrow and regurgitates the food so they can have some.

Irene Stuart:
That's so romantic.

Duncan McKay:
Is it?

Irene Stuart:
You, me, moonlight and the smell of wolf vomit. What more can a girl want?

Golly Mackenzie:
Well, if you must stomp on people's feet, then try a lower heel or wellies or something.

Irene Stuart:
What is that thing anyway?

Duncan McKay:
This? It's a tracking device.

Irene Stuart:
Great. Could it track down the socks the washing machine has eaten?

Irene Stuart:
I'm sure he's very nice, he just seems a bit... tweedy, that's all.

Duncan McKay:
Tweedy?

Irene Stuart:
You know, countryfied. Like he shaves with broken glass and keeps a ferret in his sporran.

Duncan McKay:
That's not a ferret in his sporran, he's just pleased to see you.

Molly MacDonald:
It's a buzz of course to have a flutter on the gee gees.

Louis Grimshaw:
Only when you win, old girl. I would have wasted less dosh if I'd bought a race horse and shot it.

Duncan McKay:
[about Golly's date with Irene] So how was it?

Golly Mackenzie:
Brilliant. You'll have to speak up though, my ears are ringing.

Duncan McKay:
I was getting worried.

Golly Mackenzie:
We went clubbing.

Duncan McKay:
Clubbing?

Golly Mackenzie:
Yeah, those baby seals really take it out of you.

Charlie:
This is a turbo charged XR3I, pal.

Golly Mackenzie:
Son, you can't even spell XR3I.

Kilwillie:
Isn't that a bit girly for a gillie, Golly?

Kilwillie:
Molly Hector is dead.

Kilwillie:
Kilwillie, I know Hector is dead.

Kilwillie:
Well then why, Molly dear, do you persist in talking to him? It's so dreadfully American.

Archie MacDonald:
Golly, you know you should take a leaf out of Duncan's book.

Golly Mackenzie:
Would that be his Beano annual or his computer game magazine?

Golly Mackenzie:
Just remember this is a wild animal we're dealing with. We've all seen what wolves do to their prey. They always go for the soft, vulnerable bits, Duncan.

Lexie MacDonald:
So watch the wind doesn't blow your kilt up.

Martin Carter:
What I told you last night got me thinking. Blake, Yoko Ono, your pal Hockney, it's the stuff I love. So I've decided I'm going to put on a 60s exhibition. Going to call it Defining the Divine Decade.

Molly MacDonald:
And you want me to come along?

Martin Carter:
Aye, I thought you might even say a few words since you'd like been there, done that, got the tshirt.

Molly MacDonald:
Oh I never wore tshirts, Mr Carter. In fact there were quite a few parties where one wore nothing at all.

Duncan McKay:
It's Irene. I think she's gone off me.

Lexie MacDonald:
What makes you say that?

Duncan McKay:
Well, it's just she's acting weird.

Lexie MacDonald:
Perhaps she thinks you're starting to take her for granted.

Duncan McKay:
But I've not, though. I mean just last week I bought her chocolates and not the ones on special offer.

Lexie MacDonald:
And who said romance was dead?

Kilwillie:
I'm not a chap who finds this sort of thing easy. Oh Molly, I'd like to marry you.

Molly MacDonald:
I really don't know what to say.

Kilwillie:
Well "yes" would be rather nice.

Archie MacDonald:
[to Duncan in bed with an ice-pack after his bar-fight] How are you feeling?

Duncan McKay:
Stupid.

Archie MacDonald:
[Spiritualists and clairvoyant are meeting at Glenbogle] Did they leave all their brooksticks by the door?

Lexie MacDonald:
Archie, shhh. They'll hear you.

Archie MacDonald:
Oh, they might turn me into a toad.

Lexie MacDonald:
You're half way there already.

Molly MacDonald:
Duncan, this is Mrs Munro. She's a water diviner. Could you possibly show her where the loo is, she's having trouble finding it.

Molly MacDonald:
[At the art show] What's your piece called?

Andrew Booth:
Bust Of A Young Girl.

Molly MacDonald:
What a lot of bust she has.

Kilwillie:
And just for the record, I am only a few pounds heavier than the official national average for my height and build. I just happen to be three inches shorter.

Lexie MacDonald:
[after Archie tries paragliding] No more suicidal sports, okay?

Archie MacDonald:
It's not that dangerous. Honestly.

Lexie MacDonald:
Oh, but it is because if I catch you up there again, *I'll* kill you.

Duncan McKay:
You mean I'm the last of the McKays?

Auntie Liz Logan:
There's probably a few in prison somewhere.

Auntie Liz Logan:
Four weeks cruising the Med. Four weeks of sea and sand and s... lots of other things starting with S.

Duncan McKay:
Sunburn.

Auntie Liz Logan:
You're so young.

Lady Dorothy Trumpington-Bonnet:
[about Glenbogle House] So horrendously Gothic. Even the turrets have turrets.

Kilwillie:
So, you're off to see the world.

Archie MacDonald:
Well, New York anyway.

Kilwillie:
Oh to be young again and fit for the fray.

Archie MacDonald:
Come on, you're hardly in your dotage.

Kilwillie:
Well I can't go gallivanting off round the globe.

Archie MacDonald:
Why not?

Kilwillie:
Well for one thing it's all so... foreign.

Lady Dorothy Trumpington-Bonnet:
He was the love of my life. I just wanted to make him happy, but his wife made such a fuss about it.

Lexie MacDonald:
Why do they all have to leave me? First my dad, and then Archie, and then my dad again...

Paul Bowman:
Archie didn't run off, Lexie.

Lexie MacDonald:
But then where is he? Why hasn't he even phoned me? Why hasn't he called?

Paul Bowman:
I don't know. I don't know what he's chasing after when he's got you here. All my life I've been looking for a home and now I've found Glenbogle. I'm not going anywhere. I'd never leave you - [stops himself] I'd never leave this place.

Golly Mackenzie:
Lexie, is this your father or do we call the police?

Lexie MacDonald:
Yeah, he's my father. And yeah, call the police.

Edith McDougal:
Oh yes, I get plenty of visitors. You can see their circles in the long grass up in the high field.

Molly MacDonald:
Their... their circles?

Edith McDougal:
Where they land their spacecraft. Mind you, they haven't been here for a while. I think they prefer America this time of year.

Golly Mackenzie:
Look, I'm sorry that I screwed things up for you.

Duncan McKay:
You didn't. Golly, I'm a grown man. I can screw things up for myself.

Duncan McKay:
I forgot to ask what paper you'd like in the morning.

Archie MacDonald:
Duncan, this is Glenbogle. The papers don't arrive until lunchtime.

Lexie MacDonald:
Duncan has always supported you. Think of all the things he's done for Glenbogle.

Archie MacDonald:
Yes, he blew up the house.

Lexie MacDonald:
That wasn't his fault.

Archie MacDonald:
It was his bomb.

Archie MacDonald:
Paul!

Paul Bowman:
Archie.

Archie MacDonald:
Well, I'll have to kill the fatted calf and give you a proper Glenbogle welcome.

Lexie MacDonald:
You'll find that some of our old Highland customs involve violence and livestock.

Duncan McKay:
I think I had the best night out since they invented nights out.

Hamish McKinnon:
What might have been counts for nothing. It's just a dream.

Paul Bowman:
Exccuse me, you're trespassing.

Ewan Brodie:
Hadn't you heard? There's no such thing as trespass in Scotland.

Paul Bowman:
What's your name?

Ewan Brodie:
Elvis. I never died. I've been in the Highlands living on berries.

Andrew Booth:
I was thinking about the future.

Molly MacDonald:
I wish people wouldn't do that. Very little good comes of it.

Lizzie MacDonald:
I've just come to see you, tell you some of the things that have been happing in my life.

Molly MacDonald:
Must you?

Lizzie MacDonald:
And my plans for the future.

Molly MacDonald:
Oh Elizabeth, you haven't joined another sect, have you?

Duncan McKay:
It's good of you to put me up, Golly. Just until I get my act together, you know.

Golly Mackenzie:
Or until you reach 50, whichever comes first.

Lizzie MacDonald:
Here's to families and all who sail or sink in them.

[last lines]

Paul Bowman:
Lex, I just wanted to say I'm really looking forward to working with you.

Lexie MacDonald:
No, Paul. I think you'll find you're working for me.

Golly Mackenzie:
I'm not a miracle-worker. If I was, I'd have used one on myself by now.

Lexie MacDonald:
Did you order any flowers?

Paul Bowman:
No.

Lexie MacDonald:
It looks like we've just had the gross national product of Holland delivered.

Gregor McIntosh:
Would you be the bastard son of Hector MacDonald?

Paul Bowman:
That's one way of putting it.

Gregor McIntosh:
[about the Lagganmore distillery] The place is to be run by a female!

Paul Bowman:
It happens.

Gregor McIntosh:
The former owner's daughter, a mere slip of a girl with no experience, now seeks to form a powder puff alliance with a young MacDonald female.

Gregor McIntosh:
Lexie?

Paul Bowman:
Who this morning claimed to speak for the laird on the flimsy pretext of marriage!

Molly MacDonald:
Hector was so last minute we had to race to the registry office on the Vesper. the only white outfit I had was my underwear.

Andrew Booth:
You were married in your underwear?

Molly MacDonald:
Oh, well in those days skirts were so short they barely covered you. Hardly noticed.

Lexie MacDonald:
The best decisions that Archie ever made were a blend of the coldly logical and the ever so slightly barking.

Dorothy:
[pushing plate away] Take it away. I don't expect to be charged. Call yourself a chef? Feed it to the pigs; that's all it's fit for.

Ewan:
Make your mind up. I thought you just said you didn't want it.

Lexie:
Paul, when you were in the army, did they teach you that thing where you could just kill a man with a single blow?

Paul Bowman-MacDonald:
No, we had guns.

Lexie:
Shame...

Duncan McKay:
He'll go ballistic.

Jessica McCrae:
That's his problem.

Duncan McKay:
No, believe me, a ballistic Golly's everybody's problem.

Lexie:
[Reading a magazine article about herself] The Queen of Glenbogle? That's not me.

Paul Bowman-MacDonald:
It is now. Good morning, Your Majesty.

Lexie:
Archie's abroad so I'm standing in for him.

Charles MacDonald:
A clan gathering without a laird? Unconventional.

Lexie:
Well you've got me. Temporary acting laird.

Charles MacDonald:
But you're not a MacDonald.

Lexie:
I was the last time I read my marriage certificate.

Isobel Anderson:
So, you work for the new laird?

Paul Bowman:
Yeah, you could say that.

Isobel Anderson:
Tell me, is he a total moron, or does he just not care about what happens on his estate?

Paul Bowman:
On the contrary, he's extremely intelligent and damned good looking as well, but that's just my opinion.

Isobel Anderson:
It's you, isn't it? You're the new laird MacDonald?

Golly Mackenzie:
Problems is, Mr Jenkins, that your pond's all fished out.

Jenkins:
It's not a pond, it's a loch. What do you mean fished out?

Golly Mackenzie:
Pond or a loch, this size can't sustain you and your guests every week of the year. You have to let it recover. You have to think of the symbiosis.

Jenkins:
Symbiosis? I thought you were a ghillie, not a Latin tutor.

Golly Mackenzie:
It's Greek, actually.

Joe Reavey:
Your lairdship.

Paul Bowman:
Just Paul, Sheriff Reavey.

Joe Reavey:
Call me Joe, please. Sheriff's just an honorary title for services to the old boy network.

Donald MacDonald:
What role shall I have?

Golly Mackenzie:
I'm sorry Donald, but there is no role for the laird's uncle. I'm sorry.

Donald MacDonald:
Oh, just as at Hector's inauguration. All I got to do then was stand around looking young, dashing and handsome.

Ewan Brodie:
And all you get to do now is stand around.

Donald MacDonald:
I had no idea your job was so boring. What's feudal duty exactly?

Paul Bowman:
It's an ancient tax on the tenants. In theory they're still the vassals of the laird and they're supposed to pay me for the privilege of not working my land and fighting my wars.

Donald MacDonald:
How much?

Paul Bowman:
I don't enforce it. I'm all in favour of upholding traditions, but crucifying tenants isn't one of them.

Proctor Sheila MacDonald:
Actually crucifixion was rarely the punishment for defaulting tenants. More often it was flogging, branding or merely a week in the stocks.

Proctor Sheila MacDonald:
So you're renouncing the feudal duty. Such a shame. One more link in our ancient clan heritage lost.

Paul Bowman:
Well maybe I should reintroduce the Highland Clearances as well? Evict all the tenants and replace them with sheep.

Chester Grant:
It's just what the place needed. A good civil war.

Golly Mackenzie:
What Donald knows about clan history you could tattoo on a midge's nipple.

Ewan Brodie:
All right, Donald. Now concentrate. In 1545, Hamish of Toward took Honia McDougal to be his bride.

Donald MacDonald:
Was that before or after he was gored by an elk?

Ewan Brodie:
Look, why am I reading this if you're the one taking the test?

Donald MacDonald:
Because this is how we learn our heritage, at our mother's knee. Though my mother's knees were probably hairier than yours.

Paul Bowman:
What the hell is this, Donald? Feudal duty? You seriously want your tenants to pay you for not working your land?

Donald MacDonald:
According to ancient custom, it's only a token amount.

Paul Bowman:
Backdated 10 years. People can't afford this.

Donald MacDonald:
I can't be blamed if certain former incumbents neglected to collect it.

Paul Bowman:
This lord and vassal stuff is ludicrous. It's obsolete!

Donald MacDonald:
On the contrary, it's the very cornerstone of lairdship. A cherished link to the past. I'm sure the peasants will be delighted to pay it.

Paul Bowman:
Oh, keep this up Donald and the peasants will form a co-op and buy the land out from under you and then you'll be laird of naff all.

Donald MacDonald:
I'm not worried by that rabble! Ha! Who will lead them?

Paul Bowman:
Maybe I will.

Donald MacDonald:
You're coming close to treason, dear boy.

PC Callum MacIntyre:
[Going through Donald's driving record] December 23rd, exceeding the speed limit, viz 82 miles per hour in Park Lane, London.

Donald MacDonald:
One should not be late for luncheon at the Palace.

PC Callum MacIntyre:
Following day, Christmas Eve, ignoring traffic signs relating to a one way street.

Donald MacDonald:
I was only going one way, dammit!

PC Callum MacIntyre:
January 1st, Princes Street, Edinburgh. Driving in excess of the legal speed limit whilst playing the bagpipes.

Donald MacDonald:
It was Hogmanay!

Paul Bowman:
We kissed!

Lexie MacDonald:
So?

Paul Bowman:
You try to tell me it didn't mean anything?

Lexie MacDonald:
No. Happy now?

Paul Bowman:
I don't want you to go. Not like this. Not because of me.

Lexie MacDonald:
I'm not leaving because of you. I'm leaving because I'm married to your brother.

Paul Bowman:
New Zealand is Archie's dream. Not yours. What is it you really want, Lexie?

Duncan McKay:
Do you believe in the prophetic powers of porridge?

Capt. Alex Faversham:
Paul was promoted to Sergeant in my camp.

Paul Bowman:
Later we went to Kosovo, which was...

Capt. Alex Faversham:
...character building.

Paul Bowman:
Yeah, and then some.

Irvine Taylor:
What would you like?

Paul Bowman:
Ich m?chte Wahrheit, bitte.

Irvine Taylor:
The Great Escape. An enjoyable film, especially that great moment. You speak German?

Paul Bowman:
I spent some time there. As did this British fascist who was spying for the Nazis. You speak German too?

Irvine Taylor:
I spent some time there. The last war I was in the air force.

Paul Bowman:
On which side?

Golly Mackenzie:
Pleasing yourself is one of the perks of being middle aged, free and single.

Paul Bowman:
Didn't your mother warn you about giving lifts to strange men?

Isobel Anderson:
Don't worry, I've got a black belt in screaming.

Jessica McCrae:
Let me guess, eau de dead stag. Or was that last season?

Golly Mackenzie:
I can't smell a thing.

Jessica McCrae:
That's what worries me.

Golly Mackenzie:
I work on the estate. I'm the head ghillie.

Meg Paterson:
What, shooting poachers? That kind of thing?

Golly Mackenzie:
Three this week already.

Golly Mackenzie:
I'm going to do something that I never, ever do. I'm going to talk and you three are going to listen.

Meg Paterson:
When was the last time you went away?

Golly Mackenzie:
I went to Ullapool once. I think I was about 20 or something.

Meg Paterson:
I hope you're joking. You're not, are you?

Paul Bowman:
Right Donald, you were in the Army for about five minutes. You know what the term "confined to barracks" means?

Donald MacDonald:
It was a phrase I became all too familiar with.

Lucy Ford:
So there we are, out on this drive, all perfectly innocent and all of a sudden the car is surrounded by military police. My father has only told them this poor Lieutenant has gone AWOL.

Paul Bowman:
Poor Lieutenant? He knew exactly what he was doing. You do not go out with your CO's daughter.

Lucy Ford:
It was no fun being me. Honestly. I mean I have friends who complain about over protective fathers, but mine could mobilise NATO to stop me going on a date.

Chester Grant:
There's one way out of this. We can shoot for it.

Lucy Ford:
Of goody! Duel!

Chester Grant:
Clays, Lucy.

McGonagle:
The MacIntosh shuffle is reliable, but it's a bit old hat. Whereas the Morrocan double, that's very popular around here.

Chester Grant:
Oh, I don't cheat, McGonagle. Never have, never will. I very much doubt that he will either.

McGonagle:
Well that guy that failed to mention he was an ex-Para. Are you sure?

Chester Grant:
True. We just won't mention your dark and murky past, then, eh?

McGonagle:
You know this is extraordinary. This is going to be the first non-bent shooting match in Scottish history.

Paul Bowman:
So Uncle, tell me. Which part of this did you think was an especially good idea? The fraud, the forgery or breaking the curfew order. Please tell me I haven't missed anything out.

Donald MacDonald:
It seems I owe you a vote of thanks, an apology, a few quid and a pile of crockery. In no particular order.

Paul Bowman:
You're a MacDonald. You're allowed to be an expensive liability. In fact it's pretty much expected. But if you could stop short of felony next time, I'd appreciate it.

McGonagle:
That's a nice gun.

Paul Bowman:
Thompson of Aberdeen, 1885. Very rare. Nice medallion.

McGonagle:
Olympic shooting gold, 1996. That's even rarer.

Jessica McCrae:
I chose to be a ghillie. It's not the sort of job where you're likely to bump into the love of your life.

Ewan Brodie:
Become a DJ because I am fighting them off.

Lucy Ford:
[Lucy rides past Paul on her horse] Good morning, your lairdship.

Paul Bowman:
Good morning.

Lucy Ford:
Ought I to dismount and curtsy?

Paul Bowman:
I'm not very good at subjugating the peasants.

Golly Mackenzie:
Hector used to favor the old Moroccan double, but his father before him preferred the MacIntosh shuffle.

Paul Bowman:
What are you on about?

Golly Mackenzie:
Well, you'll hardly want to take the shots yourself.

Paul Bowman:
Why not?

Golly Mackenzie:
You might lose. A man in your position can hardly leave a matter like this to chance.

Paul Bowman:
You mean cheat?

Golly Mackenzie:
Certainly not. Good grief, cheat. What I'm saying is, you pay my wages, I am your right hand man if you like. Why keep a dog and bark yourself? Especially if the dog is a fine shot and hidden in the bushes.

Paul Bowman:
Oh, that's the Moroccan double.

Golly Mackenzie:
Mmm hmm.

Paul Bowman:
No thanks, I'll take my own shots.

Golly Mackenzie:
That's a novel idea, though it flies in the face of MacDonald tradition.

Ewan Brodie:
I've got you into trouble, haven't I?

Donald MacDonald:
It'd have caught up with me sooner or later.

Golly Mackenzie:
If the truth be told I didn't think I'd ever find her. It was better than lying in my bed night after night staring at the ceiling. So I went to see friends she'd mentioned, places she'd taught at. Thought if I could bump into her when she was least expecting it.

Jessica McCrae:
Why didn't you tell me?

Golly Mackenzie:
You'd have thought me an old food.

Jessica McCrae:
You'd rather I thought you were a randy teenager?

Golly Mackenzie:
Every time, lass.

Jessica McCrae:
I still think you're an old fool.

Paul Bowman-MacDonald:
So what's the form of these tenants meetings?

Golly Mackenzie:
The form? Well, it's an ancient highland ritual.

Paul Bowman-MacDonald:
You don't say.

Golly Mackenzie:
Where the tenants present the laird with an extremely long list of grievances.

Paul Bowman-MacDonald:
I was worried you were going to say that.

Golly Mackenzie:
Just then the laird suffers an acute case of deafness. Temporary, of course.

Ewan Brodie:
Now the idea is to boil the vegetables until they acquire the taste of an old dishcloth.

Donald MacDonald:
Hello, what's going on?

Molly MacDonald:
I've had a call back from the school. They've asked me to go in for a trial tomorrow.

Donald MacDonald:
Excellent!

Ewan Brodie:
So I'm giving Molly a crash course on school dinners.

Donald MacDonald:
I've been called many things in my life, mostly insults, but never a hero.

Jessica McCrae:
I've been doing some thinking.

Duncan McKay:
I've warned you about that, no good will come of it. [to himself] Shut up, Duncan. This is important.

[first lines]

Amy McDougal:
'Scuse me. Do you know the way to Glenbogle?

Ewan Brodie:
Know it? I practically run the place.

Edith Parker:
At least he'll enjoy spending his money on me. It's not as if he has anyone else to leave it to.

Donald MacDonald:
Tofu? Some kind of oriental fish?

Ewan Brodie:
Condensed bean curd.

Donald MacDonald:
Things are worse than I thought. Not only is my ancestral home being turned into a glorified bed and breakfast establishment, they are serving bean turd.

Ewan Brodie:
Curd!

Donald MacDonald:
Where will it end? Obese Americans gee-whizzing in the family silver? A gift shop? Please God, don't let there be a gift shop!

Iona MacLean:
[Iona uncovers an old painting] Who's this?

Molly MacDonald:
The 8th Laird of Glenbogle. Tried to form an alliance with the English.

Iona MacLean:
What happened to him?

Molly MacDonald:
Well first he was hung, drawn and quartered, then they dragged his body around the estate with wild horses, and finally they just fed him to the wolves.

Iona MacLean:
Charming.

Molly MacDonald:
He wasn't a very nice man.

Donald MacDonald:
To paraphrase an old drinking chum of mine, "ask not what Glenbogle can do for you, ask what you can do for Glenbogle".

Donald MacDonald:
I once had a friend who was a woman.

Ewan Brodie:
What happened?

Donald MacDonald:
We got married. It was a very brief affair. 36 hours if I remember correctly. The worst day and a half of my life.

Ewan Brodie:
Is this more advice or just a trip down memory lane?

Donald MacDonald:
Oh, I never give advice. Useless! A wise man doesn't need it and a fool won't take it.

Viktor Zinchinko:
No Cossack every became hotelier. Cosmonaut, maybe.

[first lines]

Ewan:
How many more are you going to take? I'm freezing my backside off here.

Amy:
I could warm it up for you, Ewan.

Ewan:
Sounds promising.

[Amy swats Ewan's backside hard]

Ewan:
Aaah! That wasn't quite what I had in mind.

Dr. Simon Cotter:
[talking about the 'water horse'] You're assuming she likes sunshine; I reckon she prefers rain.

Paul:
She. Ah. You think it's female, do you?

Dr. Simon Cotter:
An elusive creature pursued by men at great cost for little reward; no no no, she's a female all right. Redhead probably.

Hamish:
These are without doubt the most catastrophic set of accounts I've seen in 50 years. Enjoy. Oh, the page for thickos, otherwise known as the Executive Summary, is on page 5.

Paul:
Monsters are in books, not Scottish lochs.

Molly MacDonald:
Carpe diem, Golly. Carpe diem.

Golly Mackenzie:
What's an ornamental fish got to do with anything?

Malcolm McRae:
There's a million fungi whose only ambition is to settle down somewhere nice and get pan fried in butter with a bit of Ayrshire bacon.

Molly MacDonald:
[Amy has woken up screaming] Bad dream, dear?

Amy McDougal:
It was a week before the college interview and I hadn't done any work and I had to do a still life, a landscape and an abstract and I didn't know where to start.

Molly MacDonald:
There, there. It's just a bad dream.

Amy McDougal:
No, it /is/ a week before the interview and I haven't done /anything/ and I have to do a still life, and a landscape and an abstract and I didn't know where to start.

Amy McDougal:
I hate being my age. Why couldn't I just have stayed a kid?

Ewan Brodie:
You are a kid!

Amy McDougal:
I am not. I'm 16. I can leave school, get a job, play the lottery, get a passport, join a union, pay tax, join the army. [She winks at Ewan] And a lot more besides.

Jessica McCrae:
He'll not be teething forever.

Golly Mackenzie:
I think he will. I've a terrible fear I've fathered a crocodile.

[first lines]

Molly:
[reading a letter] Oh no.

Paul:
I had no choice. In the last year we've failed to reach the income targets laid out in our business plan. I thought the bank was going to give us more time. They haven't. So they've foreclosed on the loan to the estate. Selling the house is the obvious way of paying it off.

[last lines]

Donald Ulyses MacDonald:
A toast to Glenbogle!

Everyone:
To Glenbogle!

Golly Mackenzie:
We're all being a wee bit gloomy here.

Donald Ulyses MacDonald:
That's a bit rich coming from you, Golly.

Molly:
[to Hector's ghost] I could kill you. It's a good job you're already dead!

Molly:
I would rather be poor with a man I love than rich with someone I don't.

Ewan Brodie:
You know, when the time comes I want to grow old disgracefully. Just like Donald.

Amy McDougal:
Why wait that long? You can grow up disgracefully.

Golly Mackenzie:
[at a service dedicating a memorial for Hector] Forgive me, Fiona. I just want to say a few words. Mainly to this man here

[indicates Peter Finlay with his hand]

Golly Mackenzie:
Peter Finlay you've been gone from this place for nigh on forty years and I've seen your face in my dreams countless times. You suffered a terrible wrong here. You were no thief. And I know that for the simple reason that I was.

Jessica McCrae:
Dad...

Golly Mackenzie:
I know... I know. It was Old Golly, the faithful servant, the upright man. I'm afraid it's true.

Molly:
My ring?

Golly Mackenzie:
I stole this ring. I robbed my Laird and I let another man suffer for my crime. Molly... Molly... the moment you came to Glenbogle I was daft about you. Never felt that way before. But, you were out of my reach and you had Hector, the love of your life. But I had to have something of you, a token of you, of what I felt for you...

Molly:
Golly...

Golly Mackenzie:
So I took this and I stood by and watched Hector convict young Finlay here. You were in Molly's bedroom that day fixing her radiator. Wrong place, wrong time.

Peter Finlay:
You!

Golly Mackenzie:
I was young... very young, very foolish. I'm making no excuses.If it's any consolation, I have been punished for it. I've never known happiness - lasting happiness - with any woman. Well... I brought that on myself.

[hands ring to Molly]

Golly Mackenzie:
Please, take that back. I'm sorry. I'm sorry Peter.

[first lines]

Golly:
He terrorized the people of these mountains for years. Stealing the cattle. Killing the menfolk, kidnapping children from their beds where they lay. He was a beast, without a scrap of human feeling or decency. So, he had to die.

Jessica:
I don't like this.

Duncan:
Go on, Golly.

Golly:
It was the turn of the year thirteen hundred and four, and he'd been lured here by the promise of MacDonald hospitality. His men were plied with drink which had been drugged, so they just fell down, senseless. And at the stroke of midnight the assembled company turned on the bandit chief and stabbed him, so that no one man would be held responsible. Legend has it that he was cut by fifty swords.

Molly:
Uungh.

Ewan:
Fantastic!

Golly:
And that was the end of Mad Malcolm MacGregor.

Jessica:
Thank goodness for that.

Golly:
Or was it? With his dying breath he cursed the family MacDonald, and swore to haunt the House by the Water forever. Specially at Hogmanay.

Ewan:
Right now, in fact.

Lexie:
You've actually come the back way, so if you punch six-six-six into the keypad, and then the barrier will open. Now the house is five miles further on. OK, see you soon.

Ian Body:
[entering the code] Six, six, six. Interesting.

[last lines]

Paul:
[walking past] Night.

Duncan, Jessica, Ewan, Becky Body:
Happy New Year.

Duncan:
Tell you what, though. [laughs] That billiard table thing was mad, but that stunt you pulled in the cellar was *amazing*.

Jessica:
What?

Duncan:
You know that thing with exploding bottles and [mimes using a sword] whishoo, whishoo. You know. How did you do that?

Ewan:
Must of been the drink.

Duncan:
Come on, lads.

Jessica:
Duncan. What are you talking about.

[a sword sticks into the stairs just above them, followed by an evil laugh from above. They all look up, and scream]