(Scene: A funeral service, at the graveside. Two mourners talking to one another)
Duncan died then, so he finally gave up his goose.
< (disapprovingly) Gave up his ghost not his goose! >
Tis sad, very sad.
< Aye, maybe twas for the best, I heard he'd been sufferin'... He's gone to a better land now. >
(Looking at him amazed, having not heard properly) He what ! He's gone where!! He's gone to the Netherlands!!!
< He's gone to a better land! a better land!! A better place!!! For fecks sake! >
(A lone Piper starts to play a lament by the graveside)
(after a few moments listening) I love the sound of the poops. A lone **** in the wind....He's a fine wee pooper that lad.
< He's a Piper not a Pooper!
(under his breath) Only Pooper around here is you. (smiles to himself thinking) A Super Pooper. (smiles even more) A Super Duper Pooper. >
Y'know he was quite a pooper himself in his day, was Duncan. I can still remember his pooping well. A Prize Pooper was Duncan, his pooping was often the talk of the town.
< (sadly & dreamily) Well, no more will his...his poops be heard around the Glens. Only silence now and the wind....o'er the heather, the fields and the crags. >
I'm not a bad pooper myself y'know.
< (smiles) I bet ye are. >
< (thinks to himself) But the heather will bloom again, and the children, they'll play in the meadows.>
I think I'll have this read at my funeral LoL. More silliness. A kind of a sequel to The Goose of Gainly Hall.