This one is a delight. It has only Immortals—no mortals—from start to finish. Moreover, they are the juicy, delicious ones, like Methos and Fitzcairn. No Quickenings. Just lighthearted fun—and some lovesickness for flavor.
The background music is cut from Bizet’s Carmen, a passionate opera that is perfect for this tale.
The question asked is—Can married Immortals stay in love—till death—when that death may not occur for centuries? H-m-m-m?
New Characters:
GINA DE VALICOURT — a beautiful Immortal, beloved by both Fitz and Mac since the late 1600’s. She favors them equally until she meets Robert, the one-and-only, till-death-do-us-part, soul mate until eternity, love of her life.
ROBERT, BARON DE VALICOURT — an Immortal knave, former pirate, now reformed. He has been madly in love with his wife for over 300 years.
SEAN BURNS — Also Immortal, only present in the Euro version. We meet him later in “Deliverance.” Obviously, he, MacLeod, and Fitz are old friends.
Château de Valicourt, Outside Paris, 1921
An enchanting Immortelle,
In charmed disarray,
Alluring, asleep—
In a red negligee,
She’s torn from her slumber,
Oh, what could be ruder!
Bursting in her bedchamber—
An Immortal intruder!
Her sword rips his mask,
“You should not see my face!”
They clash through the rooms—
Of this opulent place,
She’s soon at his mercy,
But then, it appears—
His objective is carnal,
The worst of her fears!
“Submit!” he demands,
“Never!” resisting,
His lips close on hers,
Probing, insisting,
He’s “King of the Beasts.”
And his “Queen” purrs, non-stop,
Says Gina to Robert—
“Next time, I’m on top.”
The Barge, Present Day
MacLeod has come home,
Confounded to find—
Methos, meditating—
Clearing his mind.
From his lotus position,
Methos hears MacLeod scold—
“What are you doing here?”
“My rental’s been sold.”
“Move to a hotel.”
Mac answers with speed,
Says Methos: “Adam Pierson—
Can’t afford what I need.”
MacLeod scans his mail,
Nosy Methos keeps prying,
“Anything there of interest?”
Mac’s patience he’s trying.
“Gina and Robert—
De Valicourt, getting married,
Every one hundred years,
So far, they’ve not varied.”
“Madly in love?”
Methos stretches his toes,
“Nah, gluttons for punishment,”
Both know some of those.
Methos discloses—
He’s been to the altar—
Sixty-eight times...
He’s put on the halter!
This is a bombshell,
MacLeod gapes, amazed,
“SIXTY-EIGHT WIVES?”
He must have been crazed.
“Never, one of us—
That’s too much commitment,
After three hundred years,
I’d need a refitment,
It’s tough to imagine,”
Mac differs, “Not true,
Fitzcairn and I—
Loved the Gina we knew.”
Flashback, Outside Paris, 1696
Though Fitz and MacLeod—
Would die for each other—
They’d each sell their souls—
To be Gina’s lover,
One twitch of her fingers—
Brought them, speedily—
Each plans to be favored—
As her devotee.
Elegant, in the snow,
One man on each arm,
Gina mixed up her dates,
That’s part of her charm.
Each man thought he—
Had a lone rendezvous,
“How could I refuse,
Either one of you two?”
“I was first!” claims MacLeod,
Fitz, indignant, thinks not,
“To the opera, we’ll go,
You arrogant Scot,
“To dinner,” Mac counters,
With the Prussian ambassador,
Fitz snickers, “High German,
Sauerkraut, you’ll have gas galore!”
Milady has something—
She’d like to confess,
She needs her two champions—
To ease her distress,
“Shush! We’ve arrived—
Here at the château—
Of the Baron de Valicourt,
He’s a thief, you should know.”
“He’s good at his trade,”
“Too good,” she agrees,
“From me, he embezzled—
Twenty thousand louies,”
“I’ll get them back,”
Pledges Fitz, with a bow,
Mac won’t be outdone...
“I’LL get them back NOW!”
“WE’LL get them back,”
Says Gina, the fair,
They’ve arrived at a wall,
Mac pulls her up there,
To keep Fitzcairn busy—
Mac drops his chapeau,
Then he, and the lady
Speed toward the château.
“I’LL get it back!”
Mac calls back to Fitz,
But, they’ve reunited—
As prowling culprits,
They see purloined art,
Ornate and expensive,
Filling each room—
His collection’s extensive.
All three of them prowling—
Make a Buzz that is strong,
And the lord of the manor—
Feels them, ere long,
“Mice in the parlor,
Immortal ones, at that,”
“You call us mice,”
Sneers MacLeod; “You’re the rat!”
Robert oozes contempt,
He’s an arrogant fellow,
Then his eyes fix on Gina’s—
And he melts just like jello,
Her lips slightly part,
On her face, a warm flush,
Once a wild headstrong female,
She’s dissolved into mush.
A prettier thief—
Robert never has seen.
Mac asserts, “You’re the thief!”
Fitz continues to preen,
Mac declares, “It’s her assets...
That we are protecting.”
“And wonderful assets,”
Sighs Robert, inspecting.
Fitzcairn takes offense!
“I’ll have his head!”
Notes Mac, “Gina couldn’t—
Stomach you, live or dead.”
Both clutch their weapons,
While arguments burst,
Did MacLeod or Fitzcairn...
Challenge him first?
“Gentlemen!” Love has—
Made Robert sublime,
“I only can fight—
One of you at a time.”
“Fine.” Fitz suggests—
That a coin should be tossed,
But sadly, he lacks one,
All his money, he’s lost.
MacLeod now demands—
“How could you have shown—
Gina fun, with no money?”
“I’d ask a small loan...”
“From ME????” Mac’s aghast,
Robert stays calm, sedate,
He tosses a coin—
To MacLeod...he can wait.
MacLeod rigs the toss,
So it’s he, that for sure,
Will champion the honor—
Of Gina, the pure,
Fitzcairn will not hold—
Mac’s cloak, (Deems it tacky),
Lets it drop to the floor,
He’s nobody’s lackey!
Mac and Robert engage,
But their battle seems spurious,
Just why are we fighting?”
Robert is curious,
“You wronged the lady,”
Robert swears he’d recall,
Could he wrong such a beauty?
Didn’t happen at all!
Swears Gina, “You did!
If the story be told—
Intercept, confiscate—
My shipment of gold,”
Robert stops fighting,
Ignoring Mac’s urging,
He abandons their duel,
Other passions, emerging.
But passions must wait,
While honor’s defended,
Their combat continues,
Unabated, extended,
Till Gina purrs, “Duncan...
Try conciliation,
Let’s avoid premature—
Decapitation.”
Robert agrees,
Invites her to dine—
While the bickering duo—
Are abandoned, to pine,
Fitz: “What of the opera?”
“Take Duncan,” says she
They’ll settle for sauerkraut,
Flatulently.
Several Months Later
Fitzcairn’s by a tree,
Singing a tune,
Thoughts of romance—
Warm the cold afternoon.
Then MacLeod comes along,
Both puffed with conceit,
“You sound,” snorts MacLeod—
“Like a bitch that’s in heat.”
It appears that fair Gina—
Has done it again,
Same day, same location—
A tryst with both men!
Both are convinced—
She’s decided to wed!
Each one cocksure—
That he’ll share her bed.
Fitzcairn expects—
To be the anointed,
Duncan is sure—
Fitz will be disappointed,
They are right—she will wed,
Both invited that day,
She’s marrying ROBERT!
Will they give her away?
Their banters and bickers—
Are simply delightful,
Both think that the loss—
Of their ladylove’s frightful,
Yet, the bond that they share—
Of two suitors rejected,
Will help them perform—
For the bride, as expected.
The Wedding
Attacking the cookies,
The intrepid pair—
Continue their squabbles—
To mask their despair.
“She should have been MINE!”
Each holds the same thought...
That Robert has stolen—
The prize they both sought.
Fitz hates how she gazes—
At Robert...it galls him,
A “pompous aristocrat,”
That’s what Fitz calls him,
“Smile” orders Duncan,
Himself in distress,
“If we love her, we’ll only—
Want her happiness.”
The Barge, Present Day
“So, they got married,”
Thus ends MacLeod’s tale,
He’s tendered to Methos—
This wistful portrayal,
“One fact, neither Fitz—
Nor I, could deny—
That marriage was made—
In heaven on high.”
Château de Valicourt, Present Day
This heavenly couple—
Is having a brawl,
The linen! The band!
Nothing pleased her at all!
When Mac interrupts,
With tactful finesse,
Gina says, “You’re in time—
To clean up the mess.”
“What mess?” queries Robert,
It’s already too late,
Their priceless Ming vase—
Meets a shattering fate!
“What do you expect—
From a brat?” Gina’s crowing,
Diplomatic MacLeod...
“So? How’s it going?”
“I could just KILL her,”
Robert is grumbling,
Outside, as they walk—
Mac sees, he is crumbling,
“I never dreamed—
He says to MacLeod.
That we could break up—
After all we have vowed.”
“Robert,” Mac speaks—
To him as a brother,
“Gina and you—
Were meant for each other,”
“You know no one else—
Ever loved you as she,”
Robert thinks back—
On their shared history.
Flashback, Château de Valicourt
Robert and Gina’s 100th Anniversary
The Immortals have gathered—
None wanted to miss—
The renewal of vows—
Of marital bliss,
While Fitzcairn is flirting,
Mac and Sean Burns commence—
Playing some jokes—
At Fitz’s expense.
Fitz still goes for cookies—
Mac’s caught him indulging,
He’s stuffed in so many—
His pockets are bulging,
Gina’s concerned,
Tells Fitzcairn and Mac,
Robert went for the priest—
But, he hasn’t come back
They rush to her aid,
To assist with her dress
Both cram in the doorway—
With crunched stubbornness,
“Where is the honeymoon?”
The Indies says she,
“At least it’s not Paris,
Not a safe place to be.”
“The peasants abhor—
All aristocrats here,”
“But we are protected—
We’ve nothing to fear.”
A servant, face bloodied—
Bursts on the scene,
“The baron’s been taken—
To the Paris guillotine!”
Mac gets the horses—
For a hasty egress,
Fitzcairn’s contribution?
Helping Gina undress,
She dons a boy’s clothes,
Flanked by Fitz and Mac—
Off to Paris they ride—
To fetch Robert back.
In the tumbrel, lies Robert,
They’ve beaten and bound him,
Unconscious, not seeing—
The chaos around him,
With him...the priest,
Instead of his wedding—
The priest will preside at—
Robert’s beheading!
Gina climbs in—
Takes over the cart,
Duncan and Fitz—
Now act out their part,
The mob is impatient—
For the next execution...
When the duo cry, “Death—
To this French revolution!”
They swash and they buckle,
Holding weapons on high,
The crowd’s in a frenzy,
“These traitors must die!”
Meanwhile, fair Gina—
Still in male disguise—
Rescues her hubby—
And averts his demise.
The priest’s heart rate nearly—
Plummets to zero,
When he perceives—
This young boyish “hero,”
Smooching with Robert,
After saving his life,
Robert quickly explains—
“This young lad is my wife!”
Present Day
Outside the Château de Valicourt
“She’s bossy! Pig-headed!
Never listens to me!”
Mac calms Robert down,
“Marriage isn’t quarrel free,
For three hundred years—
Sailing through life together,
Once in a while—
You’ll encounter foul weather.”
“You’re right,” agrees Robert,
“I’ll soothe all her qualms,”
“This is your chance,”
Says MacLeod; “Here she comes,”
Robert begins—
His fervent entreaty,
But, she cuts him short,
“It’s DIVORCE I want, sweetie.”
Short Time Later
Robert stands speechless—
At Gina’s defection,
“She’s even divided—
Our record collection”
“She’s really leaving,”
Mac concedes, “Without doubt,”
Pleads Robert, “She trusts you...
Please help work this out.”
“Give Robert a chance,”
Duncan tries talking,
“I gave him three centuries,
Now I am walking,
I miss the old days—
You, me and Fitz—
Now Fitz is dead,
Robert’s dull,” she admits.
Talking to Gina—
Makes Duncan feel sad,
He too, misses Fitz...
That rapscallion lad,
Gina gives Duncan—
A peck on the cheek,
Then she drives off,
Their future looks bleak.
Mac wishes he had—
Better news to report,
Tells Robert, he tried—
But, his efforts fell short,
“Maybe, you’re right—
That it’s time to move on...”
“No, I’ll go crazy—
If Gina is gone,”
“What,” asks MacLeod,
“Would the fair Gina do...
If something disastrous...
Happened to you?”
“Duncan! You’re a genius!
Pretend to defeat me,
She’ll rush to my rescue,
Won’t let you delete me.”
“No, wouldn’t work...
Gina’d never believe—
We would fight to the death...”
But, he has up his sleeve—
An ace! An idea!
A gleam lights his eye,
But, Mac must consult—
With the Very Old Guy.
The Barge
“NO!” Methos answers,
“You’ve lost sanity.”
“Come on,” coaxes Mac,
“As a favor to me.”
He serves Methos coffee,
“Have a cookie, have two,”
(This story has cookies—
Clear up the Wazoo).
Mac’s plan, in a nutshell—
Methos will fight—
Robert...and win—
In Gina’s plain sight,
She’ll fight Methos off,
To Robert, she’ll cling,
Once again, she’ll be queen—
And he’ll be her king.
“Okay,” Methos says,
“I do this for you...
You give me the barge—
It’s the least you can do.”
Mac laughs, disbelieving—
Methos would stoop so low—
As to take a man’s home—
For a five-minute show.
But, the Old Guy is serious,
“I need a place—
To live,” he explains—
With a straight, earnest face,
“Take it, or leave it!”
Now, Mac is wincing,
“You’d better make sure,
The fight is convincing.”
MacLeod’s Car, Later
“Not sure who he is,”
Duncan tells Gina,
They speed to a warehouse,
(The makeshift arena),
“He’s young and he’s good,
That’s the rep he’s acquired,
And, Robert seems lost,
Depressed, uninspired.”
The Warehouse
Rehearsing their moves,
Methos planned them precisely,
He’s sure the charade—
Will fool Gina nicely,
They sense Duncan coming—
With Gina, in tow,
“Showtime!” they shout,
And on stage, they go.
Adrenaline’s pumping,
They soon hit their stride,
Holding back Gina—
Keeps Mac occupied,
Instead of a jab,
Methos runs Robert through,
“Sorry,” he whispers,
And triumphs on cue.
This flourish dramatic...
Takes Robert by surprise,
A look of betrayal,
Darts from his pained eyes,
But, Gina has seen—
That her husband, indeed—
Will soon lose his head—
She must intercede!
MacLeod lets her loose,
Her sword flashes high,
She rushes at Methos—
With blood in her eye,
Robert whispers her name,
She halts her attack,
His painful cry acts as—
An aphrodisiac.
Methos stands wondering...
Now what’s he to do?
The lovebirds are cooing,
Is his duty through?
Mac makes a show—
Of “chasing” his butt off,
But, Gina is clear,
“His head I will cut off!”
The Barge, Later
“I knew this would happen!”
Says Methos, enraged
“You play marriage counselor,
My head’s disengaged!”
“Don’t worry,” Mac placates,
“Her hatred will ease,”
Methos holds out his hand,
“Give me the keys!”
“You were just testing...”
“No!” says Old Guy
“You’re gonna pay,
If I’m gonna die.”
He plops in Mac’s chair,
On Mac’s desk, plants his feet,
Taunts, “Have a nice day!”
As Mac makes his retreat.
The Château de Valicourt
Robert confides—
How their ploy impacted—
On Gina, “Like an animal...
That’s how she reacted,
It turned her on so..
We may try it once more,”
“Forget it,” says Mac
He needs no encore.
Duncan sips wine,
Tries to show a glad face,
Where’s Gina? “She’ll soon—
Be back from your place.”
Mac gags on the wine!
MY PLACE???? He splutters,
He grabs Robert’s arm,
“Let’s go!” He sputters.
The Very Old Guy,
Is no opera buff,
Duncan’s CDs,
Don’t have the right stuff,
Then he feels Gina’s Buzz,
Her intent, a death stroke,
Lamely he pleads,
“It all was a joke.”
Gina’s not laughing,
Methos creeps near his blade,
Again, he tries reason,
“A mistake has been made,”
“YOU made it,” she counters,
“When you wished Robert dead,”
She raises her sword,
To slice off his head.
Mac’s car has pulled up,
Both men now assess...
They agree, in their hearts,
It’s a horrible mess.
As they rush forward,
Fair Gina, in red—
Comes out, “It’s all over...
The SOB’s dead!”
“You took his HEAD?!?”
Mac cannot conceive it.
“He tried to kill Robert!”
Still Mac can’t believe it,
To Robert, he appeals...
“Tell her—it was an act...”
Then Methos pops up,
What relief! He’s intact!
“Not funny!” spurts Duncan
Gina: “Can’t take a joke?”
Mac admits that Fitzcairn,
Would have laughed at the yolk—
Pasted on his friend’s face,
“Will you give me away?”
Mac throws her at Robert,
“Please take her, I pray.”
The Barge, Later
Duncan’s unpacking—
His gift to the pair,
A priceless Ming vase,
“Only five more, are there...”
To replace the one, Gina—
Trashed in her pique,
“I wanted to get them—
Something unique.”
Mac’s making a mess,
Throwing straw all about,
(After all, Methos lives here,
MacLeod must move out).
“And what is your gift?”
A toaster, I’ll bet,”
“No,” says the Old Guy,
“The most unique yet.”
“I can give them the barge,”
“You can’t!!” Mac decrees,
“Why not? The boat’s mine,
I can do as I please.”
“Fine.” Mac continues—
Spreading the straw,
Then Methos goes on...
“But that plan has one flaw...”
“Since everyone’s gift—
Will be off-the-wall,
I decided the toaster—
Would do, after all.”
He tosses the keys—
To MacLeod—In a flash—
Mac instinctively grabs them,
The Ming vase goes CRASH!
Mac stands nonplussed,
Staring down at debris,
Straw, shattered china—
Where an heirloom should be.
“You keep the barge,”
Tossing Duncan a broom,
“You’ve got a mess,
Better clean up your room.”
Peace, Emit
© 2002
Under the Kilt from Highlander: The Official Site:
David Abramowitz, Creative Consultant
"We wanted to introduce a big wedding with lots of old Immortals, all the British Immortals were going to come to the wedding and we wound up not being able to afford it, so there were seven people and a chicken."
Don Paonessa, Creative Consultant, Post Production
"I liked ‘Till Death’ because it was a comedy and I think Dennis Berry does a good job with humor. The pretend sword fights with Methos were good. The show was a lot fun. From a Post Production standpoint, I stole from ‘Home Improvement’ because it was humorous and I liked the way ‘Home Improvement’ did their scene shifts sometimes. So with ‘Till Death’, I would break up the shot, so the shot would fall apart and then come together as another shot. Like the side of a building would split off and reveal the next scene... it was like pieces of a puzzle."
Ken Gord, Producer
"I think this worked really well. We brought back Jeremy Brudenell because Dennis Berry and I liked him so much in ‘The Vampire’. And it was Roger Daltrey, who's always great. And Cecile Pallas, she did a good job. It's hard to do comedy, but this worked. And it had lots of sword fights and you can enjoy them for the comedy."
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