Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Help (02/20/06)
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TITLE: In the Interest of Civility | Previous Challenge Entry
By Daniel Hall
02/27/06 -
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When I opened the door, I beheld a tall, rough man wearing what appeared to be a plaid skirt. He glared at me; indeed, his eyes looked as if they would exit their sockets, encircle my neck, and pull.
"Did you write 'Wallace's Grand Finale' last week?" he asked with a rough voice. I heard a distinct accent like something one would expect in a movie about knights, old rebellions, or something from Great Britain.
Several seconds passed before the question registered in my brain, but then I said, "Uh . . . uh."
"Did ya, laddy?"
"Uh . . . uh."
"Speak up, boy."
"Uh . . . yes.
"So you admit it? So you admit it?" He shouted while the veins in his forehead and neck protruded under his reddening skin. He almost jumped several times.
"Yes, yes, I wrote it," I shouted from fear.
"Aye," he shouted, "Your a mite braver than I would'a guessed after reading that slander last week. At least you admit what'cha done wrong." He stepped towards me.
I shouted, "What did I do? What did I do?"
"-ch," was all he said as he continued towards me.
I stepped backwards, stumbled over my leg, and fell to the floor. As he leaned over me and reached into his pocket, I screamed, "What do you want?"
"To help my fellow Scotsmen." He pulled a rag from his pocket and shoved it over my face. I went out.
When I revived, I was tied to my kitchen chair. Standing before me was the stranger with a set of bagpipes hoisted before him.
"Welcome back, boy."
"Hey! What . . . what's going on?"
"Your lesson, that's what." The accent reminded me of the previous events.
"Who are you?" I said with a tinge of anger.
"Calm down, boy. Don't forget that you're the one all tied up. I'm James MacDonald, a Scotsman."
"What's your problem? What do you want?" I said even more angrily.
He made a lengthy noise come from the bagpipes that made my innards tighten as if someone was running their nails down a chalkboard, only worse.
"What in the world?" I shouted.
"Calm down!"
"Okay, okay," I said calmly, "What do you want?"
"Well, lad, here's the problem. I've lived in this country awhile, now, and I've learned that your people lump Scotsmen and Irishmen together in one word, Scots-Irish. When I first heard that, I almost got my kilt ruffled, but I let it pass seeing as I'm of the kindly sort. Anyways, I noticed that you put the Scotsmen before the Irishmen, and so I began liking the word. But, oh my, boy, when I read your piece about Wallace last week, my kilt did ruffle, and I swore to act."
"What did I do?"
"-ch."
"What?" I shouted again.
Another blast from the bagpipes quieted me.
"I'll make it plain, boy," he placed his face inches before mine, "Scotch, boy, you wrote Scotch-Irish," his eyes were wide open, "I am a Scot, a Scotsman. To you, I am Scots-Irish. Do you understand?"
I speedily nodded.
"I am never, never, never, never Scotch or Scotch-Irish. I can be Scottish if need be, but I am never Scotch. That word, boy, is pure wretchedness -pure English, bah!" His face was dark red and shaking. His spit speckled my skin.
I stared into his eyes, trembled, and managed a slight whimper.
"Not so brave, now, eh?. Don't ever go to Scotland, boy. You'll never make it over the first hill." He backed away.
After a period of silence, I said, "But . . . but-"
"But what?"
"But its in the dictionary! Scotch is in the dictionary!"
He blasted his pipes and said, "I know it is! Its in the English dictionary -England, bah!- because the English -bah!- created it from their sloth and pride. Too lazy and proud to say Scottish, so they arrogantly created Scotch. Vile! We are Scots, or Scotsmen, fine Scottish words. We don't mind Scottish. But you, you went and used Scotch, Bah!" He blasted his pipes again. "I'll quote from the American Heritage Dictionary: 'In the interest of civility, forms involving Scotch are best avoided in reference to people.' Civility, boy!"
"Please," I begged, "What should I do?"
"Apologize!" He blasted the pipes.
"I'm sorry!"
"On paper."
So I did.
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