No harm meant to the HL universe or the classic Existentialist play by Samuel Beckett.

No insult meant to the fans who loved HL 4; however, based on fan criticisms posted on the Net and the critics' reviews, it's more than apparent that some people believe the movie to be the final nail in the franchise's coffin.

I will admit up front that I have not seen HL4. All connections between the actual movie and this parody rely on reviews and spoilers.

I originally started this work many moons ago, when the first rumors concerning the name "Endgame" and the appearances of Joe and Methos in the movie started circulating. I never finished it because, frankly, the muses wanted to spend time working on other projects. On a lark, I fished it out of the hard drive of my old computer and decided to finish it. You may wish I hadn't.

My basis for this is an online version of the play, posted at http://www.msu.edu/user/sullivan/BeckettEndgame.html

Like the movie, the play has been severely mutilated, er, I mean edited to just under 86 minutes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Camera pans the exterior of the barge. The "Nobile" name plate on the bow has been removed, and "Sanctuary" has been sloppily painted in its place.]

[Bare barge interior. Grey light. At one end of the barge, two trashcans, covered in an old sheet. Center, in an armchair, covered with an old tattered tartan blanket, Connor. Motionless, by the door, his eyes fixed on Connor, Duncan. No other furnishings in the barge.]

[DUNCAN goes and stands next to a porthole, stares out into the blackness. Extreme close-up of a dark brood. Slowly walks over to another porthole. Repeats.]

[Crosses barge and peers out a third porthole. Stares. Lower lip begins to tremble.]

[Lifts sheet off the trashcans, folds over his arm. Removes lid from one can and looks inside. Scowls. Closes lid. Repeats with other trashcan. He goes to Connor, removes tartan covering him, folds it over his arm. Connor wears a pale trench coat and white sneakers. He seems to be asleep, but it's hard to tell with the metal visor in front of his eyes.]

[Duncan laughs. He goes to the door of the barge, stops, turns toward the audience.]

DUNCAN (fixed gaze, tonelessly): Finished, it's finished, nearly finished, it must be nearly finished.
(Pause.)
Sequel upon sequel, spin off upon spin off, suddenly, there's a mess, a canon-violating, contradictory mess.
(Pause.)
It can't be milked any more.
(Pause.)
I'll go now to my kitchen, six feet by six feet by six feet, and wait for him to whistle me.
(Pause.)
Nice dimensions, symbolic proportions, I'll lean on the table, and look at the wall, and wait for him to whistle me.
(He remains a moment, motionless, then goes out. He comes back immediately, goes to a porthole. Pause. Connor stirs. He yawns under the visor. He removes the visor from his face. Very weary, angst-ridden face.

CONNOR: Och! Me---
(he yawns)
---to angst.
(He clears his throat, joins the tips of his fingers.)
Can there be misery---
(he yawns)
---loftier than ours? Nay doubt. Formerly. But now?
(Pause.)
Zeist?
(Pause.)
Season Six?
(Pause.)
The Raven?
(Pause.)
Oh, I am willing to believe that other franchises suffer as much embarrassment over bad spin offs. But does that mean their suffering equals ours? Nay doubt.
(Pause.)
Nay, all is an---
(he yawns)
---absolute,
(proudly)
---mess.
(Pause. Gloomily.)
And the critics...
(He sniffs.)
DUNCAN!
(Pause.)
What dreams! Those Oscars!
(Pause.)
Enough, it's time it ended, for everyone's sake.
(Pause.)
And yet I hesitate, I hesitate to... to end. Aye, there it is, it's time it ended and yet I hesitate to---
(He yawns.)
---to end.
(Yawns.)
God, I'm tired, I'd be better off in a flashback.
(He whistles. Enter DUNCAN immediately. He halts beside the chair.)
Yew pollute the air!
(Pause.)
Get me ready, I'm going to have a flashback.

DUNCAN: I've just got yew dressed in modern clothes!

CONNOR: And wot of it?

DUNCAN: I can't be changing yer costumes every five minutes, I have friends to judge.
(Pause.)

CONNOR: Did yew ever see my eyes?

DUNCAN: Nay.

CONNOR: Did yew never have the curiosity, while we were training, to actually pay attention to me and look at my eyes?

DUNCAN: Wot? Fru yer eyes?
(Pause.)
Nay.
�
CONNOR: One of these days yew should.
(Pause.)
The fans think they're better than yers, cousin.
(Pause.)
How many awards have we won?
�
DUNCAN: The same as before.
�
CONNOR : Have yew checked?
�
DUNCAN: Aye, Connor.

CONNOR: Well?

DUNCAN: Zero.

CONNOR (scowling): We need to win an award.

DUNCAN: We won't.
(Pause.)

CONNOR:� Have yew not had enough?

DUNCAN: Aye!
(Pause.)
Of wot?

CONNOR: Of this... this... franchise.

DUNCAN: I have since Season Five.
(Pause.)
Not yew?

CONNOR (gloomily): Then there's nay reason for it to improve.

DUNCAN: It may end.
(Pause.)
All series long the same questions, the same answer -- There Can be Only One.

CONNOR: Get me ready.
(DUNCAN does not move.)
Go and get my kilt.
(DUNCAN does not move.)
DUNCAN!

DUNCAN: Aye.

CONNOR: They'll give yew nay more naked butt shots.

DUNCAN: Then nay one will watch.
�
CONNOR: They'll give yew enough bare skin shots to keep yew on camera. Yew'll be drafty all the time.
�
DUNCAN: Then they will watch.
(Pause.)
I'll go and get the kilt.
(He goes toward the door.)

CONNOR: Why do yew put up with me?

DUNCAN: Why do yew put up with me?

CONNOR: Yew were my student.
�
DUNCAN: Yew were my teacher.
(Pause.)
�
CONNOR: Yer going to kill me all the same.

DUNCAN: Aye, it's in the script.

CONNOR: Yew don't love me.

DUNCAN: Nay, I do.
�
CONNOR: Yew whacked yer student.
�
DUNCAN (defensively): Once!

CONNOR (gloomily):� They've made yew suffer too much.
(Pause.)
Haven't they?

DUNCAN: It's not that.

CONNOR: They haven't made yew suffer too much?

DUNCAN: Aye!
�
CONNOR (relieved): Ah, yew gave me a fright!
(Pause. Coldly)
Forgive them.
(Pause. Louder.)
I said, Forgive them.

DUNCAN: I heard yew.
(Pause.)
Have yew suffered?

CONNOR: Less.
(Pause)
Why don't yew kill me now?

DUNCAN: I don't know where my katana is.
�
CONNOR: Go and get us two wenches.
�
DUNCAN: There are nay more wenches.

CONNOR: What have yew done with yer wife?

DUNCAN: I never had a wife.

CONNOR: The writers changed their minds.
�
DUNCAN: When Tessa was alive I wanted to marry her. I proposed upon my knees. The writers wouldn't let me get married.

CONNOR: It's canon until it's not.
�
DUNCAN: Sometimes it is and it isn't at the same time.

(The lid of one of the bins lifts and the hands of Methos appear, gripping the rim. Then his head emerges. Large nose. Pale skin. Positively alabaster. Moonlight on marble.... Methos yawns, then listens.)
�
DUNCAN: I'll leave yew, I have friends to judge.

CONNOR: With yer katana?
�
DUNCAN: Aye.

CONNOR: The critics say it's dead.
�(Pause.)
All right, be off.
(Exit DUNCAN. Pause.)

METHOS: My beer!
�
CONNOR: Damn fossil!

METHOS: My beer!
�
CONNOR: The old folks at home! Nay honor left! Guzzle, guzzle, that's all they think of.
(He whistles. Enter DUNCAN. He halts beside the chair.)
Well! I thought yew were going to kill me.

DUNCAN: Oh not just yet, not just yet.

METHOS: My beer!
�
CONNOR: Give him his beer.

DUNCAN: There's nay more beer.

CONNOR (to METHOS): Do yew hear that? There's nay more beer. Yew'll never get any more beer.

METHOS: I want my beer!

CONNOR: Give him some beer nuts.
(Exit DUNCAN.)
Accursed alcoholic! How are yer toes?

METHOS: Never mind my toes.

(Enter DUNCAN with tin of nuts.)

DUNCAN: I'm back again, with the nuts.
(He gives can to Methos, who shakes can, then opens it.)

METHOS (plaintively): What the bloody hell are these?

DUNCAN: Planter's Mixed nuts. It's symbolic.
�
METHOS (as before): Without beer?� I can't!

CONNOR: Bottle him!

(DUNCAN pushes METHOS back into the bin, closes the lid.)

DUNCAN (returning to his place beside the chair): If his fans but knew!

CONNOR: Take his head!
�
DUNCAN: I can't.

CONNOR: True. He has more fans than both of us, I reckon.

DUNCAN: Aye.
�
CONNOR (pauses): Nay flashbacks?
(Pause.)
Don't we laugh?

DUNCAN (after reflection): I don't remember.
�
CONNOR (after reflection): Nor I.
Pause.)
Duncan!

DUNCAN: Aye.
�
CONNOR: The fans have forgotten us.

DUNCAN: There's nay more fandom.

CONNOR: Nay more fandom! Yew exaggerate.

DUNCAN: After they see this movie there won't be.
�
CONNOR: But there's HL5! The Methos Chronicles! We whack our friends, our students, our teachers. Next, our Watchers!
�
DUNCAN: Then the fans haven't forgotten us.

CONNOR: But yew say there are none.

DUNCAN (sadly): Nay one that ever lived ever thought so hypocritically as we.

CONNOR: We do what we can.

DUNCAN: We shouldn't.
(Pause.)

CONNOR: This is slow work, killing a franchise.
(Pause.)
Is it not time for my close-up?

DUNCAN: Nay.
�
(The lid of Methos' bin lifts. His hands appear, gripping the rim. Then his head emerges. In his mouth some nuts. He listens.)

CONNOR: This is not much fun.
(Pause.)
But that's always the way at the end of the franchise, isn't it, Duncan?

DUNCAN: Aye.

CONNOR: It's the end of the franchise, isn't it, DUNCAN?

DUNCAN: Looks like it.
(Pause.)

CONNOR (anguished): Wot's happening, wot's happening?

DUNCAN: Something is taking its course.
(Pause.)

CONNOR: All right, be off.

(Exit Duncan)

CONNOR: We're getting on.
(He leans back in his chair, remains motionless. Methos knocks on the lid of the other bin. Pause. He knocks harder. The lid lifts and the hands of Joe appear, gripping the rim. Then his head emerges. Tattooed wrist, scruffy beard.)

JOE: What is it, you pain in the ass?
(Pause.)
Time for my two seconds on screen?

METHOS: Were you asleep?

JOE: No, I was cutting my toenails.
�
METHOS: Pass me a beer.
�
JOE: We don't have any.
�
METHOS: Bloody hell -- it really is the end of the world.
�
JOE: Why this farce, day after day?
(Pause.)

METHOS: I've lost my dignity.
�
JOE: When?

METHOS: I had it in Season Five.
�
JOE (elegiac): Ah Season Five.

METHOS: Do you remember?
�
JOE: Hardly. And you?

METHOS: I tried to save your bum from the Watcher Tribunal.
�
JOE: Wasn't that Season Four? Or was it Three?
�
METHOS: Does it really matter?
(Pause.)
The fandom is shrinking.
�
JOE: Yep.

METHOS (Pause.): I think we've exceeded our onscreen time.
(Pause.)
Do we want our own series?
�
JOE: Maybe.
�
METHOS: Then go call DPP.
(Joe does not move.)
Why don't you call?

JOE: I don't know.
�
METHOS: Nor do I.
(Pause.)
I won't risk it!
(Pause. Holding up a pecan.)
Do you want a bit?

JOE: No thanks.

CONNOR (wearily): Quiet, quiet, yew are keeping me awake.
(Pause.)
Talk softer.
(Pause.)
If I could sleep I might see Ramirez again. I'd go back to the Highlands. My heart would feel... happiness, love. The writers wouldn't have to kill me.

METHOS: Do you hear him? Trying to buck the script!
(He chuckles cautiously.)

JOE: You're just glad you're not the one getting whacked, Old Timer. I think they should off you instead.
�
METHOS (paranoid): Not so loud!

JOE (sarcastically): Nothing sells more tickets than whacking a popular character. But --
�
METHOS (drolly): Cute.
�
JOE: Yeah, it's the most popular thing in the world. And we applaud, we laugh, and we watch it again. But it's always the same lame plot device. Yeah, it's like the funny story we have heard too often, we still find it funny, but we don't laugh any more.
(Pause.)
So, are you volunteering for HL 5?
�
METHOS: Nope.

JOE: Are you quite sure?
(Pause.)
It's every character for themselves now, pal.
(Pause.)
I don't want to be in a spin off, anyway.

CONNOR (exasperated): Have yew not finished? Will yew never finish?
(With sudden fury.)
Will this never finish?
(Methos disappears into his bin, closes the lid behind him. Joe does not move. Frenziedly.)
My kingdom for a decent plot!
(He whistles. Enter Duncan.)
Clear away these secondary characters! Edit them out!
�
(Duncan goes to bins, halts.)

JOE (sarcastically): Never married.

CONNOR: What? What's he blathering about?

JOE (to DUNCAN): Canon!
�
(Duncan pushes him back in the bin, closes the lid.)

DUNCAN (returning to his place beside the chair): He has a point.
�
CONNOR: Wot was he driveling about?

DUNCAN: He told me to follow canon, that I was never married.
�
CONNOR: Damn busybody! Is that all?

DUNCAN: Nay.
�
CONNOR: What else?

DUNCAN: I didn't understand.

CONNOR: Have yew decapitated him?
�
DUNCAN: Nay.
�
CONNOR: Are they both off camera?

DUNCAN: Aye.
�
CONNOR: Edit them out.
(Duncan goes toward door.)
Time enough.
(Duncan halts.)
My angst increases; I'd like to die.
�
DUNCAN (with alacrity): I'll go get the katana.
�(He goes toward door.)

CONNOR:
Time enough.
(Duncan halts.)
Take my head.
�
DUNCAN: It's too soon.
(Pause.)
It's too soon in the script -- there isn't enough drama built up.
�
CONNOR: In the original they brace yew up and in the finale they kill yew off. Unless it's the other way round.
(Pause.)
That old student, he's dead naturally?

DUNCAN: He wasn't old.

CONNOR: But he's dead?

DUNCAN: Naturally.
(Pause.)
He was the sidekick.
(Pause.)
If I kill everyone, I'll be the One.

CONNOR: What's the attendance like?

DUNCAN: The usual.

CONNOR: Look at the reviews.
�
DUNCAN: I've looked.

CONNOR: On the Internet?
�
DUNCAN: Nay one cares about the Internet.
�
CONNOR: Look at the Internet.
�
DUNCAN: I'll go and get the laptop.
(Exit Duncan.)

CONNOR: Nay need of the Internet!

(Enter DUNCAN with laptop.)
DUNCAN: I'm back again, with the laptop.
(He plugs it into the phoneline.)

CONNOR: This is deadly.

DUNCAN(Scans a few reviews): Och! Things are getting worse.
I see... a multitude... of pans.
(Pause.)
Let's see.
(Clicks on a review.)
Panned....
(Click)
...panned...
(Click)
... and panned.
�
CONNOR: Look at the Forum!
�
DUNCAN: The Forum is gone.
�
CONNOR:�� Pah! We all knew that would happen.

DUNCAN (looking): There are some orphans left.

CONNOR: The diehards.
�
DUNCAN (looking): Aye.
(Duncan turns off the computer.)

DUNCAN: Why this farce, sequel after sequel?

CONNOR: Money. More money to make.
(Pause. Anguished.)
DUNCAN!

DUNCAN: Aye.

CONNOR: Wot's happening?

DUNCAN: Something is taking its course.
�(Pause.)

CONNOR: Duncan!

DUNCAN (impatiently): Wot is it?

CONNOR: We're not beginning to... to... mean something?

DUNCAN: Mean something! Yew and I, mean something!
(Brief laugh.)
Aye, that's a good one! Yew only mean something in the Highlander universe *after* yew've lost yer head.

CONNOR: I wonder.
(Pause.)
Imagine if a newbie fan stumbled upon the franchise, wouldn't he be liable to see through the farce?
(Voice of rational being.)
Ah, good, now I see what it is, aye, now I understand what they're at! It's over!
(normal voice)
And without going so far as that, we ourselves...
�(with emotion)
...we ourselves... at certain moments...
�(Vehemently.)
Think perhaps it won't all have been for nothing!

DUNCAN (anguished, staring out of the porthole): A redshirt!
�
CONNOR: A redshirt! Are there still redshirts?
�
DUNCAN: Outside here there's one.
(Staring)
Unless it's a red herring.
�
CONNOR (very perturbed): But the fandom might start from there all over again! Catch her, for the love of God!

DUNCAN: I'll go and get the Richie fru.
(Exit DUNCAN.)

CONNOR: A redshirt! This is awful! Wot a day!

(Enter DUNCAN with an 8X10)
DUNCAN: I'm back again, with the Richie fru.

CONNOR: Let her have it!
�
(Duncan loosens the porthole, shoves the picture through the aperture. He stoops, looks, waits, frenziedly shakes the picture, stoops, looks, waits.)

DUNCAN: The bastard!

CONNOR: Did yew catch her?
�
DUNCAN: Nay -- she buggered off. Unless she's lying a trap.

CONNOR: Lying? Laying yew mean.
�
DUNCAN: Ah? One says laying? One doesn't say lying?

CONNOR: I know, it sounds appropriate.
(Pause.)
(With ardor):
Let's go from here, the two of us! To another franchise! Yew can play a detective, the fans will follow us, far, far away, to another franchise!

DUNCAN: Is that allowed?

CONNOR: Get working on that resume immediately. Tomorrow we'll be gone forever.

DUNCAN (hastening towards door): I'll start straight away.

CONNOR: Wait!
(DUNCAN halts.)
Will there be critics, do yew think?

DUNCAN: Critics? I don't know. If there are there will be.
(He goes toward door.)

CONNOR: Wait!
(DUNCAN halts.)
Is it not yet time for my close-up?

DUNCAN (violently):
Nay!
(He goes toward door.)

CONNOR: Yew think yew own this franchise now?

DUNCAN: I do as I please.
�
CONNOR: In my franchise.
(Pause. With prophetic relish.)
One day yew'll be discarded like me. Yew'll be sitting here, an afterthought, a plot device, like me.
(Pause.)
One day yew'll say to yerself, I'm bored, I'll step down, and yew'll go and step down. Then yew'll say, I'm still bored, I'll just film one more movie. But yew won't get asked. Yew'll say, I shouldn't have stepped down.
(Pause.)
Yew'll look at the fan sites a while, then yew'll say, I'll take a holiday, perhaps another spin-off, after that I'll feel better. But after the next panned movie, there won't be any more fan sites.
(Pause.)
Infinite emptiness will be all around yew, all the resurrected bodies of those yew have killed wouldn't fill it, and there yew will be like a little bit of grit in the middle of the steppe.
(Pause.)
Aye, one day yew'll know what it is, yew'll be like me, except that yew won't have anyone to pass the torch to, because yew won't have anyone left to pass it to, and because there won't be anyone left to care that yew've passed it.
(Pause.)

DUNCAN: It's not certain.
(Pause.)
And there's one thing yew forgot.

CONNOR: Eh?
�
DUNCAN: I'm the Chosen One.
�
CONNOR (impatiently): One day yew will say, I'm tired, I'll stop. What does Season Six matter?
�(Pause.)

DUNCAN: So yew want me to kill yew.

CONNOR: Naturally.

DUNCAN: Then I'll kill yew.

CONNOR: Yew can't kill me.

DUNCAN: Then I won't kill yew.
(Pause.)

CONNOR: Why don't yew finish us?
(Pause.)
I'll give yew the majority of the close-ups if yew promise to finish me.

DUNCAN: I couldn't finish yew.

CONNOR: Then yew won't finish me.
(Pause.)

DUNCAN: I'll leave yew, I have things to do.

CONNOR: Do yew remember when I found ye?

DUNCAN: Aye, back in Scotland.
�
CONNOR: Do yew remember Deborah Campbell?

DUNCAN (wearily): Same answer.
(Pause.)
Yew've asked me these questions millions of times.

CONNOR: Heh, heh, I love the old questions.
(With fervor.)
Ah the old questions, the old answers, there's nothing like them!
(Pause.)
It was I was a teacher to yew.

DUNCAN: Aye.
(He looks at CONNOR fixedly.)
Yew were that to me.

CONNOR: The Gathering was a pilot for ye.
�
DUNCAN: Aye.
�(He looks about him.)

CONNOR (proudly): But for me,
(gesture towards himself)
nay series. But for Connor,
(gesture towards surroundings)
nay spin offs.
(Pause.)

DUNCAN: I'll leave yew.

CONNOR: Have yew had yer close-ups?

DUNCAN: Not enough.

CONNOR: Is Amanda's show on?
�
DUNCAN: The Raven? How could a cancelled show be on?
�
CONNOR: Cancelled!
�
DUNCAN: Naturally it's cancelled. If it's not on, it's cancelled.
(Pause.)
Wot's the matter with yew today?

CONNOR: I'm taking my course.
(Pause.)
Is she killed?

DUNCAN: Killed! Who would have killed her?

CONNOR: Yew.

DUNCAN: Me! Haven't I enough to do without killing Amanda?

CONNOR: But yew'll kill me.

DUNCAN: Nay I won't kill yew.
�(Pause.)

CONNOR: She was bonny once, like a flower of the field.
(With reminiscent leer.)
And a great one for the men!

DUNCAN: We, too, were bonny---once. It's a rare thing not to have been bonny---once.
�(Pause.)

CONNOR: Go and get my sword.
�
�(Duncan goes to the door, halts.)
DUNCAN: Do this, do that, and I do it. I never refuse. Why?

CONNOR: Because yer the hero.
�
DUNCAN (lower lip trembles): Soon I won't do it any more.

CONNOR: Yew won't be able to any more.
(Exit Duncan.)
Ah the young ones, the young ones, everything has to be explained to them.

(Enter Duncan with katana.)
DUNCAN: Here's yer sword. Stick it up yer bum.
(He gives the sword to Connor who, flourishing it like a baton, tries to impress the audience)
�
CONNOR: Did I impress yew?

DUNCAN: Nay.

(CONNOR throws down the sword.)

CONNOR: Do yew not think this has gone on long enough?

DUNCAN: Aye!
(Pause.)
Wot?

CONNOR: This... this... thing.

DUNCAN: I've always thought so.
(Pause.)

CONNOR (gloomily): Then it's a day like any other day.

DUNCAN: As long as it lasts.
�(Pause.)
All franchise long the same inanities.

CONNOR: I can't kill yew.

DUNCAN: I know. And I can't replace yew.
(Pause.)

CONNOR: If yew leave me how would I know?

DUNCAN (briskly): Well yew simply call me and if I don't come running it means I've left yew.
(Pause.)

CONNOR: Yew won't come and kiss me goodbye?

DUNCAN: Not in a gen piece.
(Pause.)

CONNOR: But yew might, instead, be beheaded by an enemy.
�
DUNCAN: The result would be the same.

CONNOR: Aye, but how would I know, if yew were beheaded in yer kitchen?

DUNCAN: Well... sooner or later I'd start to stink.

CONNOR: Yew stink already. The whole universe stinks of corpses.

DUNCAN: The whole Highlander universe.

CONNOR (angrily): To hell with the Highlander universe!
(Pause.)
Is it not time for my close-up?

DUNCAN: Nay!
(He goes to door, turns.)
I'll leave yew.
�
CONNOR: It's time for my voice over. Do yew want to listen to my voice over?

DUNCAN: Nay.

CONNOR: Ask Methos if he wants to listen to my voice over.

(DUNCAN goes to bins, raises the lid of Methos', stoops, looks into it. Pause. He straightens up.)

DUNCAN: He's passed out.
�
CONNOR: Wake him.

(Duncan stoops, wakes Methos with the alarm. Unintelligible words. Duncan straightens up.)

DUNCAN: He said he doesn't want to listen to yer bloody voice over.

CONNOR: I'll give him a shot of bourbon.

(Duncan stoops. As before.)

DUNCAN: He wants vodka.

CONNOR: He'll get a vodka.

(Duncan stoops. As before.)

DUNCAN: It's a deal.
(He goes towards door. Methos' hands appear, gripping the rim. Then the head emerges. Duncan exits.)

METHOS: I'm listening.

CONNOR: Scoundrel! Why did yew help him find me?

METHOS: I didn't know.

CONNOR: What? What didn't yew know?

METHOS: That the writers planned to kill you.
(Pause.)
You'll give me some vodka?

CONNOR: After the voice over.

METHOS: You swear?

CONNOR: Aye.

METHOS: On what?

CONNOR: My honor.
(Pause. They laugh heartily.)

METHOS: Two shots.

CONNOR: One.

METHOS:� One for me and one for---

CONNOR: One! Silence!
(Pause.)
Where was I?
(Pause. Gloomily.)
It's finished, we're finished.
(Pause.)
Nearly finished.
(Pause.)
There'll be nay more franchise.
(Pause.)
Enough of that, it's voice over, where was I?
(Pause. Narrative tone.)
We came down, through the centuries....
(Pause. He whistles. Enter Duncan.)
I don't feel like doing the voice over.
�
METHOS: My vodka!
�
DUNCAN: There's a fan in the kitchen!

CONNOR: A fan! Are there still fans?

DUNCAN: In the kitchen there's one.

CONNOR: And yew haven't alienated him?

DUNCAN: Half. Yew disturbed us.

CONNOR: He can't get away?

DUNCAN: Nay.

CONNOR: Yew'll finish him later.

METHOS: My vodka!

CONNOR: Our adventures now are ended.
�
DUNCAN: I'll kill yew.

CONNOR: Nay!

DUNCAN: Wot is there to stop me?
�
CONNOR: This is Holy Ground.
(Pause.)
The whole thing is comical, I grant yew that. What about having a good guffaw, the two of us together?

DUNCAN (after reflection): I couldn't guffaw again today. I'm too angsty.

CONNOR (after reflection): Aye, lad. Me, too.
(Pause.)

DUNCAN: Do yew see how it limps along?

CONNOR: More or less.

DUNCAN: Will it not soon be the end?

CONNOR: I'm afraid it will.

DUNCAN: Pah! They'll make up another.

CONNOR: I don't know.
(Pause.)
I feel rather drained.
(Pause.)
Go and see if Joe is interested in a spin off.
�
(Duncan goes to bins, raises the lid of Joe's, stoops, looks into it. Pause.)
DUNCAN: He's moved on.
(He closes the lid, straightens up.)

CONNOR: And Methos?

(Duncan raises lid of Methos' bin, stoops, looks into it. Pause.)
DUNCAN: Buggered off as well.
(He closes the lid, straightens up.)

CONNOR: Smart old fossil.
(Pause.)
Did yew ever have an instant of happiness?

DUNCAN: Not to my knowledge.
(Pause.)
There's one thing I'll never understand. Why they always put up with plot holes. Can yew explain that to me?

CONNOR: Nay... Perhaps it's magic.
(Pause.)
A kind of magic.

DUNCAN: I'm tired of our goings on, very tired.

CONNOR: Put me in my flashback clothes.

DUNCAN: There are nay more flashbacks.

CONNOR: Then let it end!
(Pause.)
With a bang!

DUNCAN: What?
(Pause.)
Is it me yer referring to?

CONNOR (angrily): An aside, you haggis! Did yew never hear an aside before?
(Pause.)
I'm warming up for my last soliloquy.
(Pause.)
It's the end, Duncan, we've come to the end. I don't need this job any more.
(Pause.)

DUNCAN: Lucky for yew.
(He goes toward door.)

CONNOR: Leave me the katana. I gave it to you. Or, did I?

(Duncan gives him the katana, goes towards door, halts, goes to bins, puts it on lid of Methos' bin. Pause.)

DUNCAN: I'll leave yew.
(He goes towards door.)

CONNOR: Before yew go...
(Duncan halts near door.)
...say something.

DUNCAN: There is nothing to say.

CONNOR: A few words... to ponder... for the critics.

DUNCAN: The critics!

CONNOR: Aye.
(Pause. Forcibly.)
Aye!
(Pause.)
With the rest, in the end, the shadows, the murmurs, all the trouble, to end up with.
(Pause.)

DUNCAN (reflecting): I say to myself--- sometimes, Duncan, yew must learn to suffer better than that if yew want them to weary of punishing yew--- one day. I say to myself--- sometimes, Duncan, yew must be better than that if yew want them to let yew go--- one day. But I feel too confident, too sure that I'm the Chosen One. Good, it'll never end, I'll never go.
(Pause.)
Then one day, suddenly, it ends, it changes, I don't understand, it dies, or it's me, I don't understand that either. I ask the fans that remain--- the diehards. They have nothing to say.
(Pause.)
I say to myself that the spark is extinguished, though I never saw it lit.
(Pause.)
It's easy going.
(Pause.)
When it ends I'll weep for happiness.
(Pause. He goes towards door.)

CONNOR: Duncan!
(Duncan halts, without turning.)
Nothing.
(Duncan moves on.)
Duncan!
(Duncan halts, without turning.)

DUNCAN: This is wot we call making an exit.

CONNOR: I'm obliged to yew, Duncan. For helping to kill the franchise.

DUNCAN (turning sharply):� Ah pardon, it's I am obliged to yew.

CONNOR: It's we are obliged to each other.
(Pause. Duncan goes towards door.)
One thing more.
(Duncan halts.)
A last favor.
(Exit Duncan.)
Take my head.
(Long pause.)
Nay? Good.
(Pause.)
Me to angst.
(Pause. Wearily.)
Old endgame lost of old, play and lose and have done with losing.
(Pause.)
And now?
(Pause.)
Peace to our... arses.
(He puts on his visor.)
It ends: now cry in darkness.
(Pause.)
Moments for nothing, now as always, time was never and time is over, reckoning closed and story ended.
(Pause. Narrative tone.)
If he hadn't killed his child...
(Pause.)
It was the moment it all started.
(Pause.)
Well, there we are, there I am, that's enough.
(Long pause.)
Since that's the way we're playing it...
(he tosses away sword)
...let's play it that way...
(Pause.)
...and speak nay more about it...
...speak nay more.

(Bonnie Portmore.)

Curtain