ROBERT MACELROY: “A cage. A cage, is it. You think me an animal, that I should be caged, ye wee jobby? Fine. Fine, thaen, a cage ye want, a cage it is. You wish te confine yourrrseal’ wi’ me, leaving yearrrseal no escape …”
***MacElroy tilts his head down, glaring from under his brow, a dangerous smile cuts across his face.***
MAC: “And ye give me a choice o’ stipulation? What mourrre d’I need? Ye’ve trrrapped yearrrseal’ wi’ me- But, farrr be it from tha likes o’ me te turrrn down an offurrred gift. I dinnae need anything mourrre fourrr te’ face ye, Spilurrr, but …
“What I want - and what ye’ll gi’ me - is thass: WHAEN I ‘ave beaten ye - all I want is …
“... five minutes i’ that same cage wi’ yearrrsael’, Dinkle. Ye’ve been a thorrrn in my foot thass whole saeson, t’is yearrrsael’ is rrresponsible fourrre fouling my shot at Sokolov, and yearrrsael’ as brrrought thass down upon yearrr own haed. T’is only fairrr tha’ you parrrtake of thass cage as weall. An’ I, fourrre one, cannae wait to visit evurrry ounce of rrregrrraet ye’ve brrrought upon yearrrsael.
“See ye theyrrre, tha both of ye.”
The Answer
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