- [first lines]
- Kilwillie: Right, old man. The great day dawns.
- Hector: Absolutely. But you know, Kilwillie, I had this strange feeling.
- Kilwillie: You're not ill, are you?
- Hector: Sweating palms, palpitations. Inability to concentrate, uncontrollable shaking.
- Kilwillie: Nothing out of the ordinary there, then.
- Hector: Absolutely not. Come on.
- [last lines]
- Kilwillie: Well, magical moment.
- Molly: To your first-born, Archie.
- Hector: And don't hang about.
- Archie: Well, the way things are going, I wouldn't hold your breath. Slainte.
- Kilwillie, Molly, Hector: Slainte.
- [all four down the whiskey, then choke]
- Hector: It's gone off. Tough luck, old man.
- [starts to laugh]
- Hector: It's gone off.
- Archie MacDonald: Go away, and leave me and my barrel to sleep in peace.
- Hector Naismith MacDonald: Rotter.
- Golly Mackenzie: Would you like a beer?
- Molly: Oh, no thanks. It always makes me fart. And we can't have flatulence amongst the ruling classes, can we?