Four hale and hearty old guys had been out hill-walking. Staring out over the Carse of Stirling, and chewing their sandwiches sitting beside the summit of Dumyat, they had been shaken and stirred by two low-flying RAF jets that came up behind them so fast that the planes arrived and shot past them at the same time as did the roar of their engines. ‘Arsie’ Anderson (so nick-named because his unworldly parents had given him the initials R.C.) had been so alarmed that he’d dropped his coffee flask.

‘Fuck! That was close!’

‘Dead right, Arsie. That second one was so close that I could see the pilot hadnae had a shave today.’

This led to a rambling discussion on nuclear war and MAD (Mutually-Assured-Destruction) as the friends descended the hill to The Woolpack Inn.

While Doggie (Dugald) Bain got in a round of drinks, the other three settled into a nearby table and discussed possible Armageddon Avoidance Strategies. Gus Murdoch had suggested a pre-emptive assassination of Putin, only to be howled down by Shuggie Wood: ‘Oh aye, that went well in Iran eh? Blow-up the Ayatollah, and then it’s peace everlasting? I dinna think so.’

Gus: ‘Well, it’s common sense (aye, mine’s IPA, thanks, Doggie) that if ye blow-up one Ayatollah, the next one might be more amenable…’

Shuggie: ‘Huh, common sense?? Whit do they world leaders ken aboot common sense? It’s a slippery concept. Listen now: if ye wanted to drain a boggy field, where would ye dig yer ditch?’

Gus: ‘Eh? I dinna ken whit this has got tae do wi’ nuclear warfare, but of course I’d dig a ditch at the bottom o’ the field to let the water drain away.’

Shuggie: ‘Aye. Well, any farmer will tell ye that it’s common sense to dig yer ditch at the top o’ the field, to stop the water getting’ ontae yer bloody field in the first place.’

Doggie, sitting down: ‘You’re quiet, Arsie. Howdya reckon we avoid Armageddon?’

Arsie: ‘There’s only one chance, lads. As soon as the four-minute warning comes, raise The Fairy Flag of the MacLeods…’

[Editor’s note: The Fairy Flag of the MacLeods is a silk banner of great antiquity and is on display at Dunvegan Castle on the Isle of Skye. It was a parting gift from The Queen of the Fairies to her lover, a clan chief of the MacLeods. When the MacLeods are in mortal danger, raising the Fairy Flag will bring them to safety. But the gift came with a warning to be sparing in it’s usage: it will only bring salvation on three occasions. Twice already the banner was raised (in 1490 and 1520) in desperate struggles against their ancestral enemies, the MacDonalds, and twice the MacLeods were successful.]

Doggie: ‘Arsie, man, ye claim yer a clan member because yer grannie was a MacLeod. But ye’ve said afore that she was born an’ raised in Clydebank and worked all her days in the Singer Sewing Machine Factory. The nearest she ever got to the Highlands was a day-trip to Loch Lomond…’

Arsie: ‘Damnit, I’m nae sayin’ I’d be raisin’ the fuckin’ flag. That’s the clan chief’s job, I think…’

Gus: ‘Is it that auld lady, Dame Flora MacLeod, I remember hearin’ her on the radio. She sounded quite…’

Arsie: ‘Naw, she’s been dead a while now. It’s fella called Hugh Magnus MacLeod. The flag’s in a glass case in the castle, I expect he’s got the key to the case. Though, come to think o’ it, there’s another fella in Australia who says he’s the true chief…’

Doggie: ‘Jeez, if the flag only works if the clan chief raises it, then for safety’s sake, we’d need both o’ them there.’

Shuggie: ‘Aye, an’ remember – we’ve only got four fuckin’ minutes. So they should have a key each and wear it round their necks at all times. An’ they should sleep beside the glass case and piss intae in a bucket. It’s a helluva job bein’ the clan chief o’ yon MacLeods, eh Arsie?’

Gus: ‘We could’ve done wi’ yon flag at the World Cup… Nice drop o’ beer this is.’