Here is another comedy involving Amanda as well as Richie. Oh joy! A tribute to Bonnie and Clyde, America’s heroes. Right! Why did Duncan ever get involved in these shenanigans? Boredom? Immortal regression to childhood? Writers stoned? H-m-m?
Adrian Paul’s matchless impression of director Dennis Berry makes Highlander history.
The Duncan/Amanda relationship is still being refined. We begin to understand why these two can never stay together, although they love each other deeply.
Amanda needs constant wooing and reassurances. Duncan sees no reason to do that. She cannot go for long periods without the thrill of “harmless” larceny. Her words to Richie, “Don’t you miss the thrill of a plan well laid, a lock well picked?” Of course, Boy Scout ethics nix that one.
The last scene tells it all. Whenever Amanda leaves, she tells Mac that she would stay if he only would ask her to. He never does, saying, “It’s up to you.” This time, he concedes a little when he says, “I wish you could stay.” That’s close but no cigar. He draws the line at begging.
The difference between Amanda and Tessa is obvious. Tessa never would have left.
New Characters:
CORY RAINES — Immortal, fun-loving Robin Hood wannabe, who gets his kicks profiting from well-planned schemes, then giving the money away. Does it for the rush, not the cash.
SAM GRINKHOV — owns the check-cashing stand that Cory and Amanda relieved of $1.4 million. Not a good man to cross.
DETECTIVE DENNIS TYNAN — A dirty cop, in cahoots with Grinkhov (perhaps named for David Tynan, executive script consultant?) Highlander does cuties like that.
REYNALDO — mechanic, deals with antique automobiles.
Seacouver, Present Day
Outside “Money Express” Check-cashing Stand
This part of town—
Has a rank atmosphere,
Richie gets off his bike,
“I can smell it from here,”
To Amanda, he quips—
“You gotta be joking,”
She replies, at her money—
No fun she’ll be poking.
“Why “Money Express”?
Not a regular bank?”
Because, she explains—
“Every one of them’s rank—
With sad little men,
Asking questions financial—
‘Bout overseas transfers—
That appear too substantial.”
“It’s called CYA,
Cover Your Assets”
Richie’s dazzled anew—
At her many facets,
She asks, “Are you coming?”
He’ll stay with his bike.
She enters alone,
Alert, businesslike.
Inside, an Immortal—
Is pulling a job,
He’s covered his face—
But she feels the old throb.
“Amanda!” he blurts,
“Cory” she sings
The teller’s forgotten—
Till a loud alarm rings.
Richie munches his hot dog,
A treat gustatory,
When out of the stand—
Dash Amanda and Cory!
There’s a bag full of money,
Cory’s gun fires a spurt,
“Everyone kiss the sidewalk,
No one gets hurt!”
Rich ducks behind cover,
Now amazed, he is viewing—
Amanda, with an Immie,
What on earth are they doing?
They climb in a van,
Make a swift getaway,
“Dammit!” swears Richie,
Thinking, “What will Mac say?”
Cory’s Van
“Just like the old times,
The thrill of that rush,
You miss the old days?”
“Yes, I do,” with a blush,
They sense Rich behind them,
On his bike, in pursuit—
To rescue Amanda—
From the grip of this brute.
“You know him?” asks Cory,
“Yeah, he’s a friend,”
That doesn’t stop Cory—
From achieving his end,
He sideswipes poor Rich,
While fiendishly grinning,
Makes Rich hit a wall,
Over which...he goes spinning.
Splotch! In a ditch—
Filled with vile, muddy water,
Rich scrabbles out mumbling—
His thoughts of manslaughter,
Inside the van—
Amanda’s guilt-stricken,
Cory laughs, “He’s Immortal,
Takes a lickin’, keeps tickin’.
Amanda will be—
The perfect assistant—
For his newest caper,
Cory’s charming, insistent,
“Just you and me,”
She feels the attraction,
Her cheeks become flushed—
At the thought of the action.
Outdoor Storage Yard
Cory whips off the cover—
From a fine antique car,
“The ’24 Packard!”
Oh, he’s gone too far...
“A sleek classic chassis—
Has always allured me,”
“You silver-tongued devil!”
Purrs Amanda, demurely.
Short Time Later
They’re chugging along...
When there...in the road—
Stands a sad Richie Ryan—
Like a mud-splattered toad.
He’s totaled the bike,
And he’s trying to hitch,
Cory makes Richie jump—
In the same muddy ditch!
“Money Express” Check-cashing Stand
Sam Grinkhov is missing—
“Only 2,000, tops.”
That’s what he tells Tynan—
And his fellow cops,
When the other cops leave,
Grinkhov turns in a flash...
“Those bastards took—
1.4 million in cash!”
“I want it beck!”
(In his accent, so fake),
It’s apparent that Tynan—
Is a cop on the take,
Tynan: “I’ll make it right,
The word’s on the street,”
Grinkhov warns, “If you don’t—
Your ass is dead meat!”
The Loft
Rich flips the pages—
Of an auto brochure,
“It’s the ’24 Packard!”
Mac checks, “Are you sure?”
“I remember that grill...
What could be on his mind?”
Mac notes, “What do Immies—
Want from their own kind?”
Cory’s Home
From the side view, this house—
Is a clone of the one—
Mac fixed up himself,
Gave to Anne when he’d done,
But I guess it was cheaper—
And took much less time,
To reuse this shot,
(Not a terrible crime).
Cory plies her with wine,
Oozing nearer by inches,
It’s clear, he intends—
Some amorous clinches.
Amanda declines,
“I’m flattered but I’m—
A serial monogamist—
One guy at a time.”
“The guy on the bike?”
She doesn’t say ‘No.’
Amanda debates—
How far should this go?
“I should call home,
He’ll be worried, all alone,”
Yet she’s in no hurry—
To reach for the phone.
Reynaldo’s Garage
He’s fixing a car,
Supine on the floor,
Rich tells Reynaldo—
What he’s looking for,
“A ’24 Packard?
I’m happy for you...
Unless you’re the cops,
You’d better skidoo.”
MacLeod takes the stage,
With accent Français,
“Does he not know...
Who I am??” Duncan says,
“I am Jacques Berry!
France’s greatest director!”
Richie stares disbelieving,
Like he’s just seen a specter.
Reynaldo’s bewildered—
By MacLeod’s daunting bluster,
Richie lends his support—
To MacLeod’s filibuster,
Mac whirls! Pounds the car!
A frustrated artiste!
His rant gathers steam,
As his passion’s increased.
“My masterpiece lacks—
One final detail!
A ’24 PACKARD!!!!!”
He continues his wail,
“You too, are a genius!
What marvelous hands!
But a genius needs tools!
See? He understands!”
Reynaldo nods dumbly,
Overwhelmed by the presence—
Of an artist, who flatters—
With such effervescence,
Mac firmly embraces—
The hapless mechanic,
Reynaldo’s enthralled—
By his manner volcanic.
“Yeah,” he remembers,
“Guy wanted a part—
For a ’24 Packard,”
He’ll look on his chart,
Rich sees a new Mac—
Says, “I’ll applaud later.”
Mac, “That’d be nice,”
Warrior turned fabricator.
Cory’s Home, Later
Mac and Richie barge in,
Rich has his sword out,
Cory’s stoking the fire,
No Amanda about,
“Okay, bud,” says Rich
“Where is she?” demanding,
“Cory?” asks Mac,
Now understanding.
Amanda glides out,
A smile lights her face,
The center of attention,
Her favorite place,
Cory grins, “I count two...
Monogamy! How grand!”
Rich knocks the wineglass—
From Cory’s limp hand.
Scoffs Cory at Rich,
“Now I know who you are,
You looked different, flying over—
The hood of a car,”
“How would you like—
To fly through a wall?”
Mac sees where it’s leading,
Doesn’t like it at all.
Cory laughs, “Take it easy,
It was all harmless fun,
You’re an Immortal,
No damage was done,
Amanda is safe,
Have no apprehensions,
Mac notes, “She is ...glowing.”
Knowing Cory’s intentions.
“Join us in the hot tub?”
Cory’s proprietary,
Mac declines, “Two’s company—
Four is....unsanitary.”
Cory hints to Amanda,
“What does that tell us?
After all of this time,
I think he’s still jealous.”
Flashback, Missouri, 1926
Hot, Dusty Road
The papers proclaim,
The headlines are blazing,
Cory Raines made “Most Wanted,”
Meanwhile, the “Amazing—
Amanda,” and Duncan—
Unemployed, bicker daily,
They’ve broken their contract—
With Barnum and Bailey.
In the hot dusty Packard,
Amanda is shrilling,
“The Amazing Amanda”—
Doesn’t take second billing!
For years my technique—
On the tightrope’s been stellar...
Yet, they’d rather I’d—
Be a cheap fortune teller.”
She throws out the turban,
And the ball in her wrath,
Not seeming to notice—
Numerous cows block their path.
MacLeod grabs the wheel,
He stops on a dime,
The cows mill and moo,
Taking their bovine time
They both sense the Buzz,
“Can’t come from the cow!”
But beyond the small herd,
Drama’s unfolding now,
An Immortal walks up—
Where an armored car’s stopped,
He gasses the guards,
On the ground, they are plopped.
He grabs all the money,
Then stops for a gander—
At the skimpily clad—
“Amazing Amanda.”
Cory bows like a noble,
She coyly waves back,
“What is he doing—
Stop flirting!” yells Mac.
“That Immortal just robbed—
That car!” Mac’s outburst,
“So?” Says Amanda...
“He saw it first.”
Cory leaves with a whistle,
They, too must be gone,
Mac asserts his male ego,
“I’ll drive from now on.”
“Don’t you miss it?” asks Mac
“‘MANDA! ‘MANDA! Crowds roaring,”
“For ten bucks a week?”
Insufficient adoring.
“I wonder how much—
He made?” (Speculating),
“Didn’t make it, he stole it!”
“Picky, picky!” (Berating)
They’re nearing a farmhouse,
Parked in front, ‘Manda sees—
“His car! Duncan, stop!
Oh, please...pretty please!
I want to meet him!”
Mac’s sure he’ll regret it,
But if he drives on by,
She won’t let him forget it.
The family’s dirt poor,
Crops defy cultivation,
No government help,
They are faced with starvation,
Cory gives them the money,
New life, second chance—
They’ll head to California,
The children’s eyes dance.
Amanda’s eyes, too—
Are alight with stardust,
But the Robin Hood act—
Fills MacLeod with disgust,
“This is not Sherwood Forest,
And the banks that you rob—
Hold plain peoples’ money,
Who work at a job.”
But Cory’s unfazed,
“No one gets burned.”
Then they notice the farmer—
Is looking concerned—
As his car—it can’t travel,
The engine block’s cracked,
California is out!
His dream’s been hijacked!
Cory smiles at Amanda,
Robin Hood will come through,
Gives away his own car,
He’s too kind to be true,
The farmer’s effusive,
“Thanks, G-d bless you, son.”
It’s the most generous act—
That Amanda’s seen done.
Mac glares at Cory,
“Now you’ll want a ride,”
Cory moves to get in—
The passenger’s side,
“In the back!” says MacLeod,
To the farmer, “Switch plates,
Those on that car—
May be hot in most states.”
Cory tells “Mackie-Boy,”
“That’s a minor detail,”
To a clan chieftain’s son—
“Mackie-Boy” sounds downscale,
Mac wonders, “What’s with—
This crazy guy, Cory?
One of these days,
We will be very sorry.”
Later, On the Road
Three carefree companions,
To Chicago, are heading,
Straight ahead, Duncan sees—
What he has been dreading,
The cops have a roadblock,
If they’re caught, it’s the can,
“Don’t worry,” calms Cory,
“I’ve always got a plan.”
“I forced you at gunpoint,
They’ll set you scot free,
Then you dig me up,
After they bury me,”
Not time for discussion,
When the coppers yell, “Freeze!”
Cory: “I’ll blow these hostages—
Into Swiss cheese!”
“You’ll never take me—
Alive!” bellows Cory,
The coppers oblige—
Gladly shoot him to glory,
Amanda and Duncan—
Hold their hands in the air,
Amanda’s so ‘frightened.’
Duncan pats her, “There, there.”
The Cemetery, Later
Mac shovels away,
Grumbling and fuming,
While Amanda impatiently
Awaits the exhuming,
As he climbs from the coffin,
Cory has the effront’ry—
To suggest that they pull this—
All over the country!
Squeals Amanda; “It’s brilliant!”
“It’s stupid,” barks Mac,
“We’ll only get caught!”
“Sure, but you will come back...
To dig us both up,
Then we do it again!”
She: “It sure beats the circus,
And the dough will roll in.”
MacLeod states, he’ll not—
Be a part of this spree,
Asks Amanda, “You mean—
That you won’t come with me?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“If you want me to stay,
Just tell me,” she says,
“And I won’t go away.”
“It’s up to you.”
Mac will let her decide,
“Fine,” says Amanda
She stands on her pride,
“Just us two, Dollface,”
“Mackie-Boy,” Cory’s taunt
They run to the car,
To begin their wild jaunt.
“Don’t forget,” calls Amanda,
With her good-bye wave,
Happily, instructs Mac,
“Fill in the grave!”
She takes off with Cory,
With no good-bye kiss,
Mac relents, the last moment...
“We can talk about this.....”
A montage ensues—
Of these wild renegades,
Everyone in the country—
Followed their escapades,
Amanda and Cory—
Robbed banks, unimpeded,
Mac would stay in the background,
Disinter them, if needed.
Tommy guns, chases,
Mayhem, agitation,
Never staying in one place—
Every day—new location,
Finally MacLeod—
Vowed, “It’s the last time.”
A huge hail of bullets—
Ended their life of crime.
Now Immortals are noted—
For shunning publicity,
Yet, these two enjoyed it,
Reveling in their complicity,
Why did MacLeod—
Play a part in this one?
Was it love of Amanda?
Or was he having fun?
Present Day, Cory’s Home
Now Cory is back,
Making free with Amanda,
Still hoping that he—
Will eventually land her,
The two seem so cozy,
Mac has not forgot—
“How many times...
Cory, did you get shot?”
Cory’s still grinning,
Puffed up with pride,
“I dunno, more than Bonnie,
A few less than Clyde.”
“Amanda!” summons Mac,
She escapes Cory’s grip,
“Think of tomorrow,”
Is Cory’s last quip.
Outside, Richie wonders—
“How can you like that guy?
To him, life’s a joke,”
Says Amanda, “That’s why,”
Mac wants to know...
What “tomorrow” implies,
“Just the Federal Reserve,”
As she flutters her eyes.
Mac shakes his head,
Cory still wants to play.
Then a figure emerges,
As they drive away,
Tynan was hiding,
Calls Grinkhov, “I’ve found him,
I’ll need some more bodies,
There are people around him.”
The Loft
“Just one truck,” says Amanda—
“Not the WHOLE Federal Reserve,”
Richie’s peeling an orange,
Content to observe,
“Nobody gets hurt,
Cory has a good plan,”
“He would!” steams MacLeod,
He is sick of that man!
“I think you’re still jealous!”
“I’m not,” Mac denies,
“It’s a big joke to Cory,
‘Cause nobody dies,
Immortality’s a gift,
Not a game played for fun,
It shouldn’t be used—
To run over some one.”
“Right!” Rich agrees,
To him, that’s clear-cut,
Mac warns her, “Don’t think—
That I’ll bail out your butt.”
“Are you throwing me out?
‘Cause that’s what I heard...”
“Of course not, Amanda,
Don’t be absurd.”
She stalks to the lift,
Despite Mac’s protesting,
When she leaves, Richie takes—
A break from digesting....
“Smooth, very smooth—
See the notes I am taking?”
If Mac wants to stop her,
A mess he is making.
Mac flies down the stairs,
“This is stupid, you hear?”
“Are you gonna stop me”
“No, I won’t interfere.”
Mac beseeches, “What is it—
You want me to do?”
“All the centuries we’ve shared,
Still you don’t have a clue!”
Cory’s Home
She’s there at his door,
His plan’s going to work!
Cory welcomes her in—
With a satisfied smirk,
She’s “changed her mind.”
A woman’s prerogative,
He doesn’t waste words—
On a thorough interrogative.
Later
The plan’s going forward,
Cory’s prepping the scene,
Amanda’s relaxing—
With a good magazine,
Suddenly she smiles,
Why was she a doubter?
That must be Mac’s Buzz,
He can’t live without her!
“Amanda!” It’s Richie???
He’s pleading Mac’s case,
But he’s not MacLeod,
And he can’t take his place.
“He does care about you,”
“Then why didn’t he tell—
Me to stay there with him?”
“Cause you don’t obey well.”
“Not the point,” says Amanda,
Then she turns up the heat,
“Would you like to join us?
The plan’s really neat,
Cory’s out now,
Setting the load,
When armored truck passes,
This car will explode.”
“We’ll pull the truck over,
(Now this is cute),
We’ll gas all the guards,
Make off with the loot,
No one gets hurt,”
“How can you be so sure?”
“C’mon, Tiger,” she smiles,
“You are no amateur.”
“Rich, you were never—
Such a Boy Scout before,”
(Mac has corrupted him,
Now he’s a bore).
“Don’t you long for the thrill?
The adrenaline rush?”
“I remember the terror,
When my knees turned to mush.”
“Cory’s a pro,”
“Cory’s an ass!
Anything he’s involved with,
I’ll take a pass.”
Just then a loud pounding,
Police! Three or four.
She throws Rich the plans—
He’s out the back door.
The Targeted Street
Everything’s perfect,
Only minutes to go,
The plan’s running well,
Soon the Saab’s gonna blow,
Cory turns with a smile,
Sensing “Dollface” in place—
But his smile turns to shock—
When MacLeod socks his face!
“I’ve waited to do that—
For seventy years!”
“Where’s Amanda?” whines Cory—
As his vision clears.
“She’s been arrested—
At your cabin,” snarls Mac.
“Uh oh! That’s a kink—
Now my plan’s out of whack!”
Mac grips Cory’s ear,
“I’ll put a new kink—
In your ass, if you don’t—
Get her out of the clink,”
“I’d love to,” mewls Cory,
“But she’ll have to wait,
The Saab’s set to blow—
At 8:28.”
Is that music they hear?
‘Round the corner there comes—
A complete marching band,
From tuba to drums,
At the rate they are stepping,
The chances are prime—
They’ll explode on the upbeat—
In four quarter time.
Disarming the bomb—
Wasn’t in Cory’s plan,
Mac grabs for the keys,
Sprinting fast as he can,
He gets in the Saab,
Pulls away past the band,
Drives like a fiend,
Till he finds vacant land.
Cory jumps in the T-Bird,
Tails Mac to the lot,
The seconds are ticking,
Only five more, Mac’s got,
Then the door handle snaps!
The Highlander’s trapped!
“I HATE YOU!!!” he mouthes,
Then skyward he’s zapped.
Airborne, he’s hurled,
Then lands with a crash!
In front of the T-Bird,
Blackened with ash,
If mere looks could kill,
Cory drew his last breath,
But MacLeod’s occupied—
Dealing with his own death.
“Don’t even touch me,”
Mac growls when revived,
“Mackie-boy! No hard feelings?”
Of remorse, he’s deprived.
Mac’s ready to squash him—
Like a bug, savagely,
“Wait! You need me...
To get Amanda set free.”
The Loft
Duncan’s cleaned up—
He’s learned the true story,
“Amanda’s not with—
The police,” he tells Cory
Faced with Mac’s wrath—
Truth’s all he think of,
He tells Rich and Mac—
“She got snatched by Sam Grinkhov”
“YOU STOLE FROM SAM GRINKHOV???”
Both voices as one,
What in the world—
Has this idiot done?
Mac’s hatred is fueled,
Cory’s exploits reliving,
This turkey deserves—
An impressive Thanksgiving.
Abandoned Warehouse #1
Handcuffs on Amanda—
Won’t stop her malignin’
“What is that stench?
She’s sniffing at Tynan,
“It’s crooked cop,”
Grinkhov gets in her face,
His breath, like his accent—
She finds a disgrace.
The Loft
Mac takes the call,
Yes, Sam Grinkhov will—
Exchange Amanda—
For his 1.4 mil.
There’s only one hitch,
‘Robin Hood’ made a pledge,
Cory’s given the money—
To a local orphanage.
Could Mac float a loan?
He’d rather float Cory—
Right out of the window—
So deliciously gory,
Cory’s babbling away,
“Try the truck thing once more?”
Mac ponders the outcome—
Of a modified encore.
Abandoned Warehouse # 2
Cory’s ensemble—
Won’t produce a new fashion,
Under his vest—
Dynamite, they are stashin’
The finishing touch—
Is a small detonator,
“It’s fake, right?” he asks,
Mac replies, “See ya later.”
The briefcase he carries—
Is stuffed to the gills—
With useless blank paper,
Not genuine bills,
Mac smiles, “Cory-boy,”
Trust me, I have a plan,”
So Cory goes forth—
A confidant man.
Abandoned Warehouse #1
To Grinkhov and Tynan,
“Your dough’s locked in here,
I’ll give the combination—
When Amanda is clear,
If you attempt force—
To open the case,
It’s rigged to explode—
It’ll blow the whole place.”
Amanda is freed,
Now the brash Cory Raines—
Bares his dynamite vest—
And cheerfully explains—
“You have 60 seconds—
To vacate this room,
(By the way, leave the ‘money’),
Or we all will go “BOOM!”
Tynan runs first,
“Hell it isn’t MY money!”
Grinkhov remains,
His demeanor unsunny,
Cory takes his cigar,
And kindles the fuse,
Grinkhov makes tracks,
He’s fallen for the ruse.
Outside...Rich, MacLeod—
And Amanda observe,
It worked! Here comes Cory...
Full of vigor and verve,
There’s a bounce to his step,
So carefree and jolly,
“And now,” says MacLeod—
Witness the grand finale.”
A real detonator—
Appears in Mac’s hand,
“You didn’t!” “You wouldn’t!”
It will be so grand!
Rich wants to push it,
So bad he can taste it,
Grins Mac, “This one’s mine!”
And he’s not gonna waste it.
Cory lights up the sky...
Like a small meteor,
Soot covered and stunned,
“What was that for?”
“It’s all in fun,
Cory-boy, all in fun.”
Cory drops to the ground,
Very charred and well-done.
The Loft
Mac’s been out on business,
He’s dressed for success,
But not with Amanda,
She’s packed for egress,
“Cory’s blown town,
But Grinkhov’s still looking,
I’d better leave,
Or my goose he’ll be cooking.”
“I wish you could stay.”
How she treasures each word,
But Amanda must fly—
Bold and free as a bird,
She holds him and kisses—
His lips lovingly,
“See you in Paris?”
But of course, ma chérie.
The ache in his heart—
Remains through the years,
Love visits a while,
All too soon, disappears,
He’s left with his thoughts,
Lovers, friends he has known,
But the Highlander’s path—
Must be walked alone.
Peace, Emit
© 2002
Under the Kilt from Highlander: The Official Site:
Don Paonessa, Creative Consultant, Post Production
"This was the ‘Road Runner’ show, which I liked. For Post Production, it was playing around with the flashback stuff and utilizing stills as a motif."
Ken Gord, Producer
"This was a tough show because there was lots of action because of the Bonnie and Clyde thing. I think Rafel Zielinski did a great job directing. And I thought Don Paonessa did a great job because the Post in that added a lot of charm."
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