Quiet Please - The Veil of Glen Cove

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Quiet please

The American broadcasting company presents Quiet Lee, which is written and directed by Willis Cooper, and which features Ernest Chattel.

Quiet please for today is Paul, the veil of Glen Cole.

You go right through Santa Barbara, I'm a coast road, and six miles later, a drill later, 150 branches off of the right.

Up to Gaviotta Pass, named for the Seagull of Guest Farther, for the last shot there in 1769.

The road leads up through the Sunday in those mountains, up to the old mission Sunday in those.

It's been there since 1800 and 4.

Somebody said the cactus in the garden there was trying to buy old fire.

Stay by my feet, look out.

Now, the way from there later, up over the mountains, is a very pleasant way.

And by my side, it's really great to be able to walk around here for life in highway.

And the road will probably reach for the green hole in the house.

And the road will probably come from here.

And there will be a hand down in the front of the frown.

How did we remember the road in the late time of the year?

I do remember the road I started in the middle of the afternoon.

I thought it would take a few times here under the middle of the night.

A couple of times remember that.

A couple of years ago, I came here right along the bridge of highway in the 20th century,

in the middle of the night in the middle of the night.

In 1944, I started to remember that for a while.

I found it very important.

The girl beside me in the car along the road,

the innocent hag-run road that was first tried by the old Franciscan car

has more than two centuries ago.

The winter green of the hills and the blue of the sky,

and the mountains in as herding my heart.

A premonitioned vacuum, haunted places half-remembered.

Said if the girl had the edges of my room, it'd best happen.

And after her husband spoke,

spoke as the shadows of the grove of sickermones

slid around the length of the car and rewrote for a moment in the shade.

Tired of?

No.

Not tired.

Sad about something?

I don't know what it is.

I feel depressed.

Been working too hard at the studio, maybe.

Maybe.

Really well.

I don't seem to be able to realize.

Beautiful afternoon. No worry.

I know.

One of my business albums.

Could I help, maybe?

I don't know. What's the matter with me?

Don't seem to warn.

Perfect.

I mean, maybe you feel strange being out of it after all that.

No.

No, I wanted about it.

Want to talk about it?

How are the girls out in South Pacific?

Pretty?

I wouldn't see any.

Well, only something.

How'd you get enough gas to take a trip like this for an eight car ride?

I'm a wounded hero.

I get gas.

I feel a little guilty riding around burning up gas like this.

You've seen all the gas wasted that I've seen it wouldn't bother you.

Mm, sir.

Am I getting it down?

Oh, no.

I'm sorry.

Don't mind me.

Do we have a good time?

I got stuck in a corner with a radio actress with Arkansas.

Well, I took most of the evening with a little English sailor.

It's not English. Got it.

Royal Navy, though.

That's got through them?

About Scotland.

Your spots, aren't you?

Then where do you get that name?

My father and mother were born there.

That name?

Oh, Ireland?

Yes, of course.

I would do something.

And Ireland, that's right.

I remember my father used to tell me about an expensive boat

that used to run out to the islands in the first place.

Whatever that is.

The name of the boat was Iona.

It was a comedian on it who had a routine about buying the boat.

When I was a little girl, I used to go into his shirt.

And my father told me how his partner would ask him the boat's name

and eat day Iona.

And the straight man would say,

well, it'd be better, but what's the boat's name?

Iona.

Sure.

The right name of the Campbell's Attumn is Violet Iona Roller.

What's that mean?

I haven't decided by this.

Aren't you starting soon?

McDonald's.

Of course.

Well, I know about Scott's always I.

Going to Lucy's master, glad to live with Simon Scott,

The end time, the only place in Hollywood, you can get it.

See?

You're feeling better again.

What?

I said, you're feeling better again.

I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you said.

Come on, boy.

Wake up.

Your name is Alan McDonald, and you're

driving a car along California 150.

And we're going to see Santa, he knows me.

I'm sorry.

I was thinking about what?

You saw something about the combos you're coming.

So what?

The type music.

Type?

Oh, I want a big type.

Yeah.

What about big type?

That's in the green, too.

Look at Alan!

You're going up alone!

The words of the old man come back to me slowly.

The old man on the green.

The side of the kilts.

The kilts?

No, the filibags of blue and green and black, the ancient

patterns of the Campbells.

The sound of warpikes ribbons fluttering from the great black

greens of the warpikes and the spirit of the chandras

about the sabs of the women.

The sound of men's voices singing of other ways of the women.

The great dark guy, oh, he goes before he makes

the cannons and guns through.

Um.

Um.

I'm all right.

What happened?

Don't you?

You drove right off the road.

How you did?

Look at your beautiful car.

Are you hurt?

Me?

I don't like it.

Are you sure?

Yeah.

You?

You all right?

Are you all right?

I just want my head.

Let me see.

Gee.

Look at your car.

I smashed it all.

Now what?

See, I'm sorry, I don't know.

I don't know what happened.

Just seemed to pass out, kind of.

All right.

I don't know.

She's got out of the hospital just soon now.

Are you the master?

I don't know.

Sit down.

There'd be another car along right away.

I better.

Yeah.

Oh, thanks.

OK.

I'm all for sorry, I don't know.

I think nothing of it.

What I do, just blackout.

Just that, there would arise to end up.

I don't have to do anything like it, I say.

Sorry.

I'm saying.

See?

Who said you didn't know anything about Scott's name?

Well?

Where'd you learn the words to the Campbell's or Cummins?

In the green, in the black rocks,

the tortured black rocks in the high crides above,

with a mist, drifting high on the ground,

and the water is distending and flowing

over in the marshy beds where the gillies dig the brown

peat from the ground.

The place for a man was not meant to exist.

The place priming was awful.

Death haunted him.

Grisly beyond my words.

The very path, bloodstroke, and horrible.

Bringing back the light of day in the good yellow sunshine,

assuming the very mouth of the blackest hell itself.

Where shall I wake you?

See such a resolution.

Such dismal health as the very gate of death

and voice of the old man.

Glen cold, horrible man with a white hair.

Glen Croyo, old man, new and fox.

McDonnell of Glen cold.

I'm going to get dark with all along, Ellen.

Sometimes it's like, what's that?

And some of you could go on.

I hope so.

You call?

And.

Put on my coat.

No, no, you're the victim.

I'm not sick.

Where are you?

I don't know.

What happened?

I don't know.

Head feel all right?

Of course.

And I like you getting stiff.

Want to walk a little ways?

Somebody will be all right.

If you feel strong enough.

I'm all right.

Help you out.

Thanks.

Which way?

Well, we were going this way.

To matter of fact, I think that's proof that a post office is

up there at a piece, not sharp.

I've never been up here.

I had.

Should be somebody there anyway.

We need to balance.

Whose way?

Well, we are growing this way.

As a matter of fact, I think that's proof that fourthe up is

up there at a piece.

And that's far.

We never do nothing here.

And should be somebody there anyway.

When you sit down, maybe use a phone.

Quite for me.

Come on.

Those are no shoes to go for a walk in my order.

I didn't expect to take a walk in my order.

I'm so sorry.

I'll forget it.

Let's get out of there.

I'm freezing.

Come on.

The tower, the tower, the zone, the tower, the zone.

Don't think that.

Oh, what's the matter?

I don't like it.

What?

Sorry.

Thanks.

I'm worried about you, Helen.

I'm all right.

I know a bit.

What's the matter?

You're a nice guy.

What?

You're a nice girl, I don't know.

Thank you.

What about that dream?

Dream?

Like that, huh?

How you can't remember, Helen?

Can't?

No, won't.

I look a little girl.

I've been psyched by experts.

Not trying to psych, yeah?

Excuse me.

A little sensitive, I guess.

Oh, stop it.

Well, Grog gets his head battered in, you know?

All of Hops.

Is Guy okay for sounds?

You know?

He shouldn't have done that to the studios

or soon after, getting out of the hospital.

I know, but if any training runs and I'm the guy,

there's kind of be the big fat, technical advisor.

Only...

Only what?

I'd like to have people looking at me wondering

if I got all my buttons or not.

You can write?

I hear all right, baby.

And I write.

I go into a trance and drive off the road

with my best girl alongside me.

What did you say?

You said I go into a trance?

No.

For the last part of it.

Huh?

Well...

About the best girl, that part.

Yeah, I would.

Huh?

Could be you and meant that, Helen?

You don't think I'm asking my rocker a little, huh?

I sure don't.

What do you mean, you?

Well...

If you don't think so, then I meant it.

Um...

Huh?

Would you have a kiss for your best girl?

In the dream,

the raw red smell of fresh-filled blood

and the smell of smoke

flowing from the burning houses.

In the dream, the blackness of early dawn

reddened with the flames from the burning houses.

In the dream, the cries of a dying

and the winds have remembered the chilly.

In the dream, the voice of the old one

had long dead old one.

But she...

The Macbath of the friend pool.

They went out and they slew deep on the mouish.

Run came flared in the woods

that all the plans must sign the pledge of loyalty

to William before the winter was spent.

And the wad came to Glencore

after all the others

for they take it to McDonald's.

And I hope in the wad would be too late.

And we could not sign,

and the lowlanders would come and take it.

I, my dear.

I, my dear Macbath of the Glencore,

I braved all the winter snow

and I came to Thap Williams

and said I would sign the paper.

And they sent me away to the sheriff of Inverery.

And again, through the snow I went

and I sent money into the paper

for the sake of all the Macbath of the Glencore

that they might not profit their lives.

And I was content as they would live

and there would be peace among us all,

healing the lowlander like me.

I underlums a written piece

and I'm more than a gunna hide

dread the rock of that Glencore

for it's the old man, the sheep,

the old fox and the dream.

And in my dream,

the railing of the pipes,

the McDonald pipes,

the lemon for Glencore.

WEudi

WEudi

Was that thunder?

How long was that?

I've never heard thunder in Southern California before.

Oh, you're strong.

So dark.

Well, come on, Alan, let's run.

I don't want to get caught in it.

It is, after my own.

It's not over to you.

You've heard gun.

I don't like it.

You scared?

Just scared, honey.

Thunder and lightning always frighten me

when I was a kid back to Eastluckers.

I never got over it.

I could take hold of your best, girl.

I'm super-denture.

For that, I thank you.

I don't see any lightning, though.

I never see lightning in California.

You've caliphoned your characters.

We're all right.

You're all right.

Hello, it is Ryan.

And we could all use an extra bright spot in our day, couldn't we?

Just to make up for things like sitting in traffic, doing the dishes, counting your steps, you know.

All the mundane stuff.

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It seems to be farther than I thought.

Sure, you know where you are.

But up here in Midian High.

The road always is bad, isn't it?

It's not so bad when you drive.

You should've worn my mug.

Why?

Keep falling into the rut with these high heels.

Maybe there'll be somebody in less cruises we can get a cup of coffee or something.

Not a youth cold, too.

That breeze is fresh.

What in the rain start?

Get good and cold in.

We'll stop on your tree and build a fire.

Rock tree.

You see what you mean?

Trees everywhere except where we are.

When it rains.

So much.

I'm not used to walking.

Want to rest?

No, we better get along.

The rain will hit any minute.

Dark?

See, maybe it's night coming on.

No, it's two o'clock.

This is where we came up the hill at Galata.

It's about four now.

It's old.

What?

If you were not one of those dumb ruts.

Ruts?

I told you, my high heels.

I heard you the first time I thought you were kidding.

Kidding.

Oh, ruts in a concrete road.

One tree.

Where's concrete?

Why?

Hey.

Don't you know where you are?

Where we get off the main road.

Isn't it?

We must get off it somewhere.

This is a wagon road, a dirt road.

How do you like that?

You and me were lost.

Oh, no.

Maybe I really fixed you up today, haven't I?

Wait.

What?

I thought...

Wait.

No.

I guess not.

What does it sound like to you?

I thought it was a sound of tight.

The sound of my subtle cardinacabinabraise.

What?

It sounded stuck like a real Scotland when you said that.

To climb up of my dreams,

the old, sonnuffle wail of the pipe,

soon a dim dark conseckering...

through the green, vature of the développement...

worrying for the mack-don of the duck.

And the voice of the oldies are old and I can't.

The old fox, as he told his dreadful tale of my dream,

and they had set my name to the paper...

as I said to the young man.

As I said to the young man, Donald, and all the people that had, I thought, the protection

of the town.

And we were to be left to dwell in peace among the crags of duckling, gling cool.

But that I am money that hate the McDonalds and would see us all dead and over the graves.

And they are the aims that took council among themselves to plot out of doom and destruction.

For I, Mati and the old Fox, I had it, Fox the enemies of the McDonalds by standing there

old.

And I'll say to you that I meant to keep it.

The Royal Limit, the Royal Limit and the Ligment of James and his line, but now William the Dutchman

the rules and James played.

Thus, there was one Dauer Imple in Edinburgh, and when he examined the paper, it seems that

the name of Machia McDonald, a Gling cool, had been exposed for the paper so that we were

still held traitors, though we knew it not.

So when the soldiers of the Duke of Argyles, Regiment came to Gling cool, and Campbell, a glen

lion leading them, we were walking them and took them into our hems and treated them

as honoured guests.

I, every man of them was a Campbell, and that pipes be forever ruring, that chant a book,

that great out of gale.

And when the McDonald pipes got old, well, it was only the old reels and the streffes,

and the McDonald Peabret was never heard, but the road in the back, Campbell, water pipes

in the glen.

And that small black crags of that glen gave back the sun, the bell out, I don't know

what I am, I'm not in the owner of Gles.

Adam.

Stay close to me, darling.

I saw it.

Did you see?

The glen's high dizziness, black rocks I saw on, very horrible, jagged crags in a stream

splashing down among them.

I saw it.

Adam, where are we?

We're lost.

Why do you hear him?

I do hear the pipe.

Adam?

Adam?

In the darkness.

In the lightning splash darkness in the rain and the mist… many things are revered.

rain in the mist. Many things are revealed. They caught an offer to McDonald's. The

sobbing, thoughtful music from the blackened crags. All is not clear to me. The

green returns to me, and it is warning of a February day, two and a half centuries

ago in a veil of tranquility. And I see the surges of the Campbell's and the

grey of the early dawn as they grew up, there's several ways to the homes where

they'd been honored guests. And the glint of little lights in the naked claymore blades

pulled Jill for the McDonald's.

A child laughs and calls to the companion of yesterday. The claymore slashes down at

him in the massacre as they go. The cambers are everywhere, slashing, burning,

shooting down the helpless ones who yesterday batten welcome at their finest nights.

From all to the shore that led me escape the secret order, seven of them, and the

cambers didn't welcome me. And this is a dream I could not remember. Save for the old man,

the old fox, who fell, the last of them all, beside his heart that morning in Glencore.

In my dream I heard his dying words, cursed me all, and the claymore of the

Campbell struck him fair between the eyes, and on on that.

But still in the dream his voice was loud. You got a McDonald's, you never forgot it.

Never forget that the McDonald's of Glencore shall be revanged against the

cambers. Never shall one of the name of cambers enter that dark, the blood-haunted veil of Glencore.

Never, never, never. And when you hear the choral knock of the McDonald's,

don't cry, John.

We'll be alright.

Listen to pipes again.

No.

Don't you hear it?

I hear it.

I don't hold it.

Is somebody coming?

No.

Yes.

See him?

See him in the lightning flash?

Wait.

It's the man with a bagpipe.

What about him?

Wait, I don't know.

Hey!

Well, it's got something at least.

Come on. Let's go talk to him.

Maybe he...

Wait for me.

Hey, friend.

What's your step, I don't know?

He scared me.

That's the way we are, and let's get out of here.

Excuse me, sir.

Would you mind telling us where we are?

I smashed my car and we...

I guess we got lost.

You didn't even know where you are, then, McDonald's?

Why?

How did you...

I've heard that I have had my voice.

I am Machia McDonald.

In my dream?

Well, I can hear you, McDonald's.

You're in the wheel of Glencou.

I can hear you.

You...

And you're the lady.

Wait, I want to...

I own it.

I am I own a Campbell.

On a February morning in 1694,

the Campbell's marched away from then-crowing in Milwaukee.

And that in McDonald was left-ending.

On a February day,

250 years after,

they found me sitting beside the body of I own a Campbell.

Under a sick and more tree,

two miles from Las Cruces.

There is no place in all that the mountain region,

but remotely resembles.

The day of Glencou,

where no Campbell may enter and live.

Goodbye.

The title of The Quiet Please Story,

you have just heard,

is The Vale of Glencou.

It was written and directed by Willis Cooper,

and the man who spoke to you,

Ernest Chappell.

And Jay Patomale was Machia McDonald.

Helen Choke played Iona.

Music required, please,

as you wish, will as well,

become a criminal.

And the pipe music was,

by pipe major James B. Tree.

Now, for what about next week,

I write a director, Willis Cooper.

Thank you for listening to The Quiet Please.

The next week, I have a story for you about Black,

or at least dark grey magic.

It's called, as in a gloss,

faculty.

I have so much to make,

we get the same time.

I am probably yours, Ernest Chappell.