Page 39 of What Doesn't Kill You…

"Runrig," Davy shouted.

That earned a cheer, ending the list of band suggestions.

"Gimme a go on the drone," Rab, the groom, said as he staggered toward them.

"Sure," Evan said amicably. "Name all of the seven dwarves and I'll hand it over."

"Aw, come on, Evan, nobody knows all seven." Rab started counting them off on his fingers. "Dopey… Boys, I need help."

"You're Dopey," Wee Andy said then laughed like he was hilarious.

"Sneezy!" Mick called, looking particularly pleased with himself.

Evan, meanwhile, had the drone in the air. "You can stand around getting an aneurysm trying to remember the dwarves or we can make a video for your women. What's it gonna be?"

"Video!"

"Then we'd better make this fast," Evan said. "Head to that fence, it’ll make an awesome backdrop. Don't forget to hit some balls as you go."

"What will we do when we get there?" Davy asked. "Want to act out Braveheart?" Seeing as he'd painted his face half blue for their trip to the island, this suggestion was no surprise.

"You and bloody Braveheart," Mick said. "It isn't even historically accurate."

"I don't care." Davy took a deep breath and bellowed, "You can take my life, but you'll never take my freedom!"

That started a chant of freedom, freedom, freedom. Evan moved toward the fence; it was like trying to herd drunken baby goats.

"We should sing Flower of Scotland," he said as he pointed at the fence. "Over there. Look at the spotlights. It'll be like we're on stage."

"Epic!" Wee Andy charged across the grass. "Wish I had my bagpipes."

"I've got something better," Big Andy said. He dug into his golf bag and came out with a traffic cone.

The cheer that went up could probably have been heard on St. Patrice.

"You cannae play a traffic cone, numpty," Rab said, trying to focus in on the cone. He was swaying so much it was a miracle he was upright. "Unless it's got a hole in the end, then we can use it like a megaphone."

As one, the group of friends examined the cone. There was no extra hole. They were so disappointed that Evan burst out laughing. They were nearly at the fence now. On the other side, the guards had just noticed the drunken young men. It wouldn't be much longer before they spotted the drone. Evan took it higher.

With the guard’s attention on the raucous group, it was easy to fly the drone high over their heads. Evan studied the small screen on the control console with some satisfaction, as he made the drone head toward Damien's house.

"That's it," he shouted to his new friends. "Against the fence. Get in a line with Rab in the middle. Somebody's gonna have to hold him up."

"If you puke, I'm leaving you here," Davy said as he threw an arm around his friend's shoulders.

Rab grinned like an idiot before launching into a tuneless rendition of Flower of Scotland. Fortunately, a couple of his friends managed to find the tune as they joined in, and Evan didn't think it sounded half bad. He joined the lineup along the fence, keeping an eye on the drone footage as he sang. The drone was now above the estate house. He used the controls to move it around the exterior of the building.

"I'm going up," Big Andy announced, just as they'd reached the part where they were sending the English home to think again.

Evan cast him a glance, and sure enough, he was climbing the fence, cone in hand.

"No' a good idea," Evan cautioned as the guards started heading their way.

He watched as one of the guards spoke into a radio. None of them had pulled their guns, yet. Evan supposed he should have felt thankful for that. He kept one eye on his new friends as he maneuvered the drone. Meanwhile, the boys were cheering Big Andy on as he made his way to the top of the fence.

"Sir," one of the guards called. "Please get down from the fence. This is private property."

"Don't come any closer," Big Andy told them. "I'll no' have you looking up my kilt and getting jealous over what you find there."