Broadcast internationally, the Royal Wedding of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle inspired millions. There was splendor. There was grace. Befitting Meghan’s Hollywood roots, there was even an air of politically correct, social inclusion. And throughout the pomp and celebration, there was a band of screaming Scots, thundering down a nearby hill.
Leading the charge was William Wallace—also known as Braveheart—whose steely eyes flashed rage borne of suffering. His hand gripped a battle axe. His face wore streaks of blue. With mighty shouts of “Freedom!” and “Kill the Brits!”, Braveheart’s warriors tore through the massive wedding party like threshers through dry wheat.
Royalty fell. Rock stars fell. Cakes were overturned, champagne towers shattered, and heads rolled from rows of actors lacking their usual armed entourage.
But it was different for the women. Hoisted kicking on shoulders, dozens of famed starlets were carried off, never to be seen again. No longer would their fashions be admired at premieres, nor their speeches heard at protest marches. Even Ms. Markle disappeared from view, lugged away by some nondescript savage who muttered, “Aye, this one’ll do…”
It was, in the end, a slaughter.
And here we are. Prince Harry stands bewildered, alone. Approaching him through rows of now empty seats is Braveheart, followed by a group of warriors. Sizing up the young prince, Braveheart stops a few feet away, lowers his axe to the ground…
…and speaks.
Braveheart: Ah’m here ta discuss yer terms, Laddy.
Harry: My terms?
Braveheart: Aye, yer terms! Of unconditional surrender! (employing an exaggerated, rolling “R”) Rrrrright, men?!
The Men: Aye! Aye! What he said! Aye!
Harry: But…doesn’t “unconditional” mean there are no terms?
Leading the charge was William Wallace—also known as Braveheart—whose steely eyes flashed rage borne of suffering. His hand gripped a battle axe. His face wore streaks of blue. With mighty shouts of “Freedom!” and “Kill the Brits!”, Braveheart’s warriors tore through the massive wedding party like threshers through dry wheat.
Royalty fell. Rock stars fell. Cakes were overturned, champagne towers shattered, and heads rolled from rows of actors lacking their usual armed entourage.
But it was different for the women. Hoisted kicking on shoulders, dozens of famed starlets were carried off, never to be seen again. No longer would their fashions be admired at premieres, nor their speeches heard at protest marches. Even Ms. Markle disappeared from view, lugged away by some nondescript savage who muttered, “Aye, this one’ll do…”
It was, in the end, a slaughter.
And here we are. Prince Harry stands bewildered, alone. Approaching him through rows of now empty seats is Braveheart, followed by a group of warriors. Sizing up the young prince, Braveheart stops a few feet away, lowers his axe to the ground…
…and speaks.
Braveheart: Ah’m here ta discuss yer terms, Laddy.
Harry: My terms?
Braveheart: Aye, yer terms! Of unconditional surrender! (employing an exaggerated, rolling “R”) Rrrrright, men?!
The Men: Aye! Aye! What he said! Aye!
Harry: But…doesn’t “unconditional” mean there are no terms?
(Braveheart huddles with his men for several minutes of intense debate. At long last, he again faces Harry)
Braveheart: Yer a shrrrrewd one, Laddie! But I shan’t be thrrrrrown by yer trrrrrrickery!
The Men: Aye! Aye! What he said! Aye!
Harry: Stop calling me Laddie! And how did you get in here?! Wasn’t there security out front?
Braveheart: Aye, Laddie! But they just stood at the gate—still as statues, they were! Oh, we charged at ‘em several times, trrrryin’ ta get a rrrrrise outta ‘em, but nary a one would budge! So we took a few selfies with ‘em, and rrrresumed our attack!
Harry: So no one fought back, but you attacked anyway? You just murdered my guests!
The Men: Aye! Aye! What he said! Aye!
Braveheart: Not now, lads!
Harry: Why commit such atrocities?! What did I ever do to you?!
Braveheart: Do ya know nothin’ of history, Laddie? Nothin’ of what ya’ve done? (Looking dramatically at the sky) Ya can take our land! Ya can take our women! But--
Harry: We’ve taken none of your women!
Braveheart: Would ya like ta? They’re not in demand! Ah suspect it’s the beards--
Harry: It’s my wedding day, you savage! I brought my own woman!
Braveheart: Offer still stands, Laddie.
Harry: No! And stop calling me Laddie!
Braveheart: We got plenty ta spare! We keep ‘em in the countryside, beards an’ all--
Harry: —I said I don’t want--
Braveheart: —far from any, ya know, rrrrreflective surfaces--
Harry: —please stop talking--
Braveheart: —let’s just say those aren’t trrrolls livin’ under our brrrridges, Laddie--
Harry: Will you shut up?! And I’m not Laddie!
Braveheart: Ahhh…PRRRRRINCE Laddie!
The Men: Aye! Aye! What he said! Aye!
Harry: SHUT UP! You’ve murdered half the wedding party, and taken the rest for God knows what!
Braveheart: Ya had it comin’! Yer always opprrrrressin’ us!
The Men: Aye! Opprrrrressin’ us!
Braveheart: Ya take our lives!
The Men: Aye!
Braveheart: Ya take our land!
The Men: Aye!
Braveheart: Yer bakeries won’t make our weddin’ cakes!
The Men: Aye!
Harry: Wedding cakes?
Braveheart: The ones with figurines wearin’ kilts and playin’ the pipes!
The Men: Aye! Aye! What he said! Aye! Burn the witch!
Harry: Burn the what?
Braveheart: Yer day a’ rrrrreckonin’ be at hand, ya filthy noble!
The Men: Aye!
Harry: Noble? None of this makes any sense! Why attack after centuries of peace? Why today? And why are two of your men carrying a rowboat?
Braveheart: That be our Navy!
The Men: Aye!
Harry: And the one throwing paper airplanes is…your Air Force?
Braveheart: Pay no attention ta him! He just follows us arrrround.
Harry: I can’t take much more of this.
Braveheart: Ha! Ya bloody English ‘ave no stomach fer battle!
Harry: What battle?! You just stormed in here wearing those ridiculous skirts, killing unarmed guests!
Braveheart: Are ya makin’ fun of our battle armor, Laddie?
Harry: MY NAME IS NOT LADDIE!
Braveheart: PRRRRRINCE Laddie!
The Men: Aye! Aye! What he--
Harry: SHUT UP! Look, if saying “skirts” instead of “kilts” offends you, I take it back! Anything!
Braveheart: Well trrrrruth be told, we were outta prrrroper battle kilts--
Harry: I don’t care!
Braveheart: —so we bought these skirts at Kohl’s--
The Men: Aye! Aye! At Kohl’s! Aye!
Harry: I said I don't care!
Braveheart: —luckily, one of the men’s lasses had a 30% off coupon--
Harry: Are you even listening?
Braveheart: —so we combined trips, as the little missus needed ta buy a shavin’ kit--
Harry: WILL YOU PLEASE STOP TALKING?! I’LL GIVE YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT!
Braveheart: Ya’ll meet my demands, then?
Harry: YOU HAVEN’T MADE ANY DEMANDS!
Braveheart: Ah clearly said ya can take our--
Harry: —I DON’T WANT YOUR BEARDED WOMEN!!
Braveheart: Well then, the prrrrrice just went up!
Harry: Please! I’ll give you land! A tenth of the kingdom!
Braveheart: Does that still include India?
Harry: I don’t know! Maybe! Why not?!
Braveheart: Good! We need a prrrrroper port fer our Navy!
The Men: Aye! Aye! What he said! Aye!
Harry: Stop calling me Laddie! And how did you get in here?! Wasn’t there security out front?
Braveheart: Aye, Laddie! But they just stood at the gate—still as statues, they were! Oh, we charged at ‘em several times, trrrryin’ ta get a rrrrrise outta ‘em, but nary a one would budge! So we took a few selfies with ‘em, and rrrresumed our attack!
Harry: So no one fought back, but you attacked anyway? You just murdered my guests!
The Men: Aye! Aye! What he said! Aye!
Braveheart: Not now, lads!
Harry: Why commit such atrocities?! What did I ever do to you?!
Braveheart: Do ya know nothin’ of history, Laddie? Nothin’ of what ya’ve done? (Looking dramatically at the sky) Ya can take our land! Ya can take our women! But--
Harry: We’ve taken none of your women!
Braveheart: Would ya like ta? They’re not in demand! Ah suspect it’s the beards--
Harry: It’s my wedding day, you savage! I brought my own woman!
Braveheart: Offer still stands, Laddie.
Harry: No! And stop calling me Laddie!
Braveheart: We got plenty ta spare! We keep ‘em in the countryside, beards an’ all--
Harry: —I said I don’t want--
Braveheart: —far from any, ya know, rrrrreflective surfaces--
Harry: —please stop talking--
Braveheart: —let’s just say those aren’t trrrolls livin’ under our brrrridges, Laddie--
Harry: Will you shut up?! And I’m not Laddie!
Braveheart: Ahhh…PRRRRRINCE Laddie!
The Men: Aye! Aye! What he said! Aye!
Harry: SHUT UP! You’ve murdered half the wedding party, and taken the rest for God knows what!
Braveheart: Ya had it comin’! Yer always opprrrrressin’ us!
The Men: Aye! Opprrrrressin’ us!
Braveheart: Ya take our lives!
The Men: Aye!
Braveheart: Ya take our land!
The Men: Aye!
Braveheart: Yer bakeries won’t make our weddin’ cakes!
The Men: Aye!
Harry: Wedding cakes?
Braveheart: The ones with figurines wearin’ kilts and playin’ the pipes!
The Men: Aye! Aye! What he said! Aye! Burn the witch!
Harry: Burn the what?
Braveheart: Yer day a’ rrrrreckonin’ be at hand, ya filthy noble!
The Men: Aye!
Harry: Noble? None of this makes any sense! Why attack after centuries of peace? Why today? And why are two of your men carrying a rowboat?
Braveheart: That be our Navy!
The Men: Aye!
Harry: And the one throwing paper airplanes is…your Air Force?
Braveheart: Pay no attention ta him! He just follows us arrrround.
Harry: I can’t take much more of this.
Braveheart: Ha! Ya bloody English ‘ave no stomach fer battle!
Harry: What battle?! You just stormed in here wearing those ridiculous skirts, killing unarmed guests!
Braveheart: Are ya makin’ fun of our battle armor, Laddie?
Harry: MY NAME IS NOT LADDIE!
Braveheart: PRRRRRINCE Laddie!
The Men: Aye! Aye! What he--
Harry: SHUT UP! Look, if saying “skirts” instead of “kilts” offends you, I take it back! Anything!
Braveheart: Well trrrrruth be told, we were outta prrrroper battle kilts--
Harry: I don’t care!
Braveheart: —so we bought these skirts at Kohl’s--
The Men: Aye! Aye! At Kohl’s! Aye!
Harry: I said I don't care!
Braveheart: —luckily, one of the men’s lasses had a 30% off coupon--
Harry: Are you even listening?
Braveheart: —so we combined trips, as the little missus needed ta buy a shavin’ kit--
Harry: WILL YOU PLEASE STOP TALKING?! I’LL GIVE YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT!
Braveheart: Ya’ll meet my demands, then?
Harry: YOU HAVEN’T MADE ANY DEMANDS!
Braveheart: Ah clearly said ya can take our--
Harry: —I DON’T WANT YOUR BEARDED WOMEN!!
Braveheart: Well then, the prrrrrice just went up!
Harry: Please! I’ll give you land! A tenth of the kingdom!
Braveheart: Does that still include India?
Harry: I don’t know! Maybe! Why not?!
Braveheart: Good! We need a prrrrroper port fer our Navy!
(Braveheart gestures to the two men who have set the rowboat on the ground. One is posed up front like Washington crossing the Delaware, while the other is rowing furiously in the back)
Man in Front: Faster, Scottie! We need more power!
Man in Back: Ah’m givin’ it all ah got, Captain! SHE JUST…CAN’T…TAKE…NA’ MORE!!
Man in Back: Ah’m givin’ it all ah got, Captain! SHE JUST…CAN’T…TAKE…NA’ MORE!!
(Again, Braveheart addresses Harry)
Braveheart: India takes care o’ them lads, but have ya got anythin’ closer ta home?
Harry: I’ll throw in Ireland, okay?! You can have Ireland!
Braveheart: Ireland, eh?
Harry: Yes! Yes! We’ll throw all the Irish out--
The Men: Aye!
Harry: —as soon as they sober up--
The Men: Aye!
Harry: —until then, just sweep around them!
Braveheart: Alrrrrright! Ireland will do! But ah gets ta rename it! Somethin’ snappy! Like…like…Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr--
Harry: Yes?
Braveheart: —rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr--
Harry: —I’m sorry, are you stuck?--
Braveheart: —rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr--
Harry: I’ll throw in Ireland, okay?! You can have Ireland!
Braveheart: Ireland, eh?
Harry: Yes! Yes! We’ll throw all the Irish out--
The Men: Aye!
Harry: —as soon as they sober up--
The Men: Aye!
Harry: —until then, just sweep around them!
Braveheart: Alrrrrright! Ireland will do! But ah gets ta rename it! Somethin’ snappy! Like…like…Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrr--
Harry: Yes?
Braveheart: —rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr--
Harry: —I’m sorry, are you stuck?--
Braveheart: —rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr--
(Harry slaps him on the back)
Braveheart: —rrrRhode Ireland! Ah gets ta call it Rrrrrhode Ireland!
The Men: Aye! Aye! What he said! Aye! Burn the witch! Shop at Kohl’s! Aye!
The Men: Aye! Aye! What he said! Aye! Burn the witch! Shop at Kohl’s! Aye!
(Harry’s head is buried in his hands)
Harry: Fine…fine…just please, return my bride.
Braveheart: Trrrruth be told, Laddie, ah dinna know where she went…
Braveheart: Trrrruth be told, Laddie, ah dinna know where she went…
(Miles away, we see the man who carried off Meghan Markle. Her head is down, as he yells and throws a plate of food out the window)
Man: Arrrgh! Ya call that haggis? Go grrrrrab me clubs and carry ‘em whilst ah plays me a few holes! Then go ta yer brrrrridge!! Arrrgh!!
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