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"Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power."(Abraham Lincoln)
This is the story about how Desmond Finnegan managed to entrap and catch Spongeface Angus, traveling around in the Scottish Hebrides.
2005. Hebrides. An irish fishing boat is moving on the ocean between Ireland and Scotland toward the Isle of Skye. Desmond Finnegan is on the deck in his elegant white suit, a guy with short blond brown hair and beard. He is talking to the fishermen.
Desmond: "Did you see that strange creature here? How far is the lighthouse?"
Fisherman: :Yes, first I heard the bagpipes. Very soulful melodic. We thought maybe it's a gnome or leprechaun playing with us. But as we went closer, it was a yellow sea sponge with humanlike features,legs, arms, and a face, wearing a celtic tunic worn before the kilt dress..When he saw us, he stopped the bagpipe music and disappeared in the ocean. There has been many sightings by locals on the coral beach. The Isle of Skye is known for its rugged landscapes, medieval castles, picturesque fishing villages, it's history and the outstanding scenery. And don't forget the abandoned Lighthouse, Neist Point.*[See the notes at the end.] The creature also used to appear there.
Desmond: (nodding thoughtfully as he listens to the fisherman's account) "A sea sponge with human features, you say?" (stroking his beard) And this...creature, it has an attachment for the abandoned lighthouse at Neist Point? How very interesting indeed. I suggest let's look around that lighthouse first."
Fisherman: "Aye, it's very close. There! I can see it."
Desmond: (following the fisherman's pointed finger, squinting into the distance) "Ah, I see it now. Neist Point Lighthouse. Ready the boat. It seems our little friend Angus may have left a trail for us to follow. Let's go and pay that abandoned lighthouse a visit, shall we?"
Desmond: "Alright lads, listen up! (gesturing towards the distant lighthouse) We're headin' to Neist Point, where our elusive friend Angus likes to show up. You said yourselves, there's been sightings of the blighter 'round there and the coral beach nearby."
"I reckon our slippery little sponge has a hideout tucked away somewhere between those two landmarks. (grinning wolfishly) So, we'll do a thorough sweep of the area. I want you to leave no stone unturned. Now, let's weigh anchor and set off. I want to reach Neist Point by sunset. And remember, I want this done right. I'll not be denied my prize."
Desmond's men nodded grimly, making ready their weapons and gear for the impending search and encounter. The fishing boat drew closer to the craggy cliffs of Neist Point as the sun began its descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and red.
As they disembarked, Desmond took the lead, his sharp eyes scanning the rugged coastline and the crumbling masonry of the abandoned lighthouse looming above. The salty tang of the sea air filled their nostrils as they fanned out to begin their systematic search.
Desmond himself made his way into the base of the lighthouse, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. He shone his torch over the faded posters and old furniture, a sense of dereliction and neglect hanging heavy in the stale air.
As he ventured higher, climbing the winding staircase that led to the lantern room at the top, Desmond couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he tightened his grip on the pistol concealed beneath his tailored jacket.
Fisherman: "The Isle of Skye has been under Viking rule throughout its history, then held by the MacLeod and MacDonald clans. The first was Logan MacLeod, who lived around 1270..Look, boss! There is a family tree carved into the crumbling plaster!"
Desmond: (stepping closer, examining the ancient markings) :Yes, it's a family tree. (tracing his fingers over the names, his eyes widening) And this Logan MacLeod..(whistling softly) He lived to be nearly three centuries old? (laughing incredulously) That's not natural."
Fisherman: "According to the Scottish legends this Logan MacLeod was the first unknown Highlander, the first among the lineage of immortal warriors! There are records saying he was shot with an arrow, and he just stood up, like nothing happened. People taught he is possessed by devil. And these highlanders could only be killed by beheading. Then in 1518, near Glennfinnen came another highlander, Connor MacLeod, who was blessed with the same qualities and longevity. Connor MacLeod died in 2002 when he was 484 years old by the sword of Duncan MacLeod."
Desmond: :I reckon that's no mere coincidence. (nodding to the sea) I'd wager that sea sponge, Angus, had a hand in of it, lads. If we can harness that power, the secrets of eternal life will be ours for the taking. And once we have Angus, we'll uncover the truth behind the Logan family's extraordinary longevity!"
Desmond walks around in the lantern room.
Desmond: "You may be onto something, my friend. (turning to his men) If that sponge is the key to unlocking the secrets of immortality...and it seems his bond with the Logan clan, he made them almost immortal. Then we'll not stop until we've squeezed every last drop of knowledge from the creature.. You've done well to bring this to my attention. (tossing the man 500 hundred pounds) I'll make sure you're well rewarded for your trouble. Now, let's find ourselves a sponge. (gesturing to the setting sun) We've not a moment to lose."
As they leave the lighthouse, the sea sponge is on the shore, watching the sunset. As he notices Desmond, he jumps into the ocean..
Desmond: "Bloody hell, did you see that sodding sponge darting about? Faster than a bloody winkin' winkin' fish, that one!"
Fisherman: "Boss, you'll want to see this. (holds up a yellowed, crumpled sheet) Found this in the lighthouse keeper's old cottage . Might be nothin', but.."
Desmond: (grabs the paper, eyes widening) "Wow, the Skye Boat Song? *[see the notes at the end] You're a clever one, you are. Get me the finest bloody bagpiper we've got, now! If that sponge has a soft spot for the pipes, we'll use it to lure that little bastard in like a bloody fish to a hook! Listen up, folks! I want that sponge, and I want him bad. So we'll give him a bloody tune he loves. Now move your arses and get that piper!"
Fisherman: "Aye, aye, boss!" And he runs away to fetch a piper.
Desmond: "That bloody sponge won't know what hit him. But he will soon learn the true meaning of regret. It's time to reel in our catch of the day."
"I want that bagpiper to stay in front. He'll play him a tune that'll make that sponge's heart ache and his resolve crumble. And when he's drawn in by the music, we'll strike like a cobra!"
"I want every man ready with a net and a rope. We'll haul that slippery bastard out of the water and onto the shore faster than you can say 'immortality'. Now, let's give that sponge a bloody song he loves to hear."
The local bagpiper arrives, clad in traditional black anf blue kilt and tartan vest.
Desmond: "Play the Skye Boat Song, and make it a soulful one. I want that sponge to feel every note, to crave the melody like a drowning man craves air. And when he's within reach, we'll give him a bloody surprise he won't see coming."
Desmond is huddling with his crew in the shadows of the lighthouse, the cold salt spray misting their faces as the moon hangs low over the inky sea.
"Listen up, folks! When I give the word, I want you to pour your heart and soul into this tune. (tapping the yellowed sheet music) The Skye Boat Song's a special one, and if the tales be true, it's got a magic all its own. Tonight, we'll use it to lure out our slippery friend."
Then he turns to face the dark waves, raising his voice. "NOW!"
The piper takes a deep breath, the first haunting notes of the melody echoing through the night air..
As the mournful strains of the Skye Boat Song drift out over the sea, a moment passes... before another set of bagpipes answer from the depths, the eerie reply seeming to materialize from the very shadows of the water.
Duncan's eyes narrow, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he watches the moonlight dance upon the waves, the distant piping growing louder... closer...
Desmond: (Turning to his men, voice barely above a whisper) "He's takin' the bait, lads. Get ready. On my signal, we strike!"
The crew tenses, waiting for their moment, as the ghostly piping draws ever nearer, the night air thick with anticipation.
Spongeface Angus: (Stops playing) Hey, who called me? Who played our song? Is that someone from the Logan clan?"
Desmond: "Aye, that's right, you slippery bastard. (stepping out from the shadows, pistol in hand) I did. And I've got a proposition for you, Mr. Angus MacLeod."
"I know all about your little connection to the Logan clan, and the secret to their... longevity. And I'm here to make you an offer you can't refuse. If you come with me willingly, I'll see to it that you're treated like the rare creature you are. But..if you make this difficult for me...(pistol cocks with a menacing click) Well, let's just say it won't be pleasant for you."
Spongeface Angus: "First of all, I am Spongeface Angus, not MacLeod. Logan MacLeod was the man, who awakened me. And you never will catch me, you greedy bastard! And your pistol is useless against me. So I am not afraid. Your bullets cannot harm me."
Then with a huge leap, the creature jumps back into the sea, and disappears.
Desmond: (growls in frustration, pistol still raised) "Insolent creature! After him, you fools! Don't let that slippery bastard escape!"
The crew scrambles, casting nets and grappling hooks into the frothing sea, but to no avail. Angus has vanished like a wisp of smoke, leaving behind only bubbles and foam. Desmond seethes, stomping along the shore as he curses under his breath. He wheels around to face his men, eyes blazing with frustrated rage:
"Damn that sponge to hell! But mark my words, I won't be denied. (points a finger at the dark waves) He can't hide forever. And when I find him, I'll have my answers, one way or another. Listen up, you pack of monkey-ass morons. That sponge has led us on a merry chase, but mark my words, his luck has run out. Because I've got a plan to get that slippery bastard out of hiding once and for all. We'll comb every inch of these godforsaken Hebrides with our most advanced sonar and radar equipment. (smirks cruelly) That sponge won't be able to hide from our radars and sharp ears."
(turns to the captain) "Set a course for the southern Hebrides. We'll start there and work our way north, leaving no rock unturned. That sponge thinks he's clever, but he's no match for the might of Finnegan Industries. He'll rue the day he crossed paths with Desmond Finnegan. Now, ready the ship and rally the crew. We've got a marine sponge to catch. Find him. Catch him. And bring him to me."
Suddenly Desmond gets a texts message:
"Mr. Finnegan, I hope this message finds you well. This is Dr. Amelia Eldridge from your advanced research facility in Dublin. I'm thrilled to inform you that after months of tireless work, the Spy Robot project is finally ready for your inspection. The cutting-edge technology we've developed promises to revolutionize deep-sea exploration and marine biology research. I strongly urge you to make your way to Dublin at your earliest convenience - you won't want to miss this groundbreaking revelation. Until then, I remain eagerly awaiting your arrival to unveil the full potential of our latest innovation.
Dr. Amelia Eldridge, Finnegan Industries Dublin Lab Director."
Desmond: "Finally. I'll go to Dublin first. Now will catch him. It seems fortune has smiled upon me at last. Listen up, you don't need to search these godforsaken islands any longer. (waves his phone) Dr. Eldridge has just informed me that our special project is ready for inspection at our Dublin lab. And I reckon that slippery sponge won't be expecting us to slip away so soon."
(He turns to the captain) "I want you to prepare for a swift journey to Dublin. I'll take the helicopter, and I want it ready for takeoff within the hour. Now hurry, and be ready to depart on a moment's notice. Our slippery friend may have bought himself a temporary escape, but his days of freedom are numbered. Once I have the new spy tech in hand, I'll hunt that sponge down like the fox I am, and I'll not stop until I've caught my prey."
One day later, Finnegan Industries Lab, Dublin
Desmond enters in an elegant suit.
Dr. Eldridge: "Desmond, welcome to Dublin. We're thrilled to have you here so promptly. We've been eagerly awaiting your arrival to unveil the fruits of our labor.."
"Upon your request, we've prepared a state-of-the-art, a bulletproof aquarium as you requested us. The glass is an inch thick and reinforced with a polymer matrix, making it nearly indestructible. Short of a high-caliber military round, there's no way that slippery sponge will be escape his new accommodations."
Desmond: "I must say, the craftsmanship is exquisite. The aquarium is not only secure but also designed to recreate the optimal conditions for our target species. Good job!"
Dr. Eldridge: "Now, Please, allow me to give you a personal tour of the facilities. I believe you'll be quite impressed with what we've achieved. Our team has worked tirelessly to ensure that every detail caters to your specific needs and objectives."
"We've also made significant strides in developing the advanced sonar and radar systems that will allow us to track and locate the target efficiently."
"But I'm getting ahead of myself. Come, let me show you the cutting-edge innovations that await within our lab. I think you'll agree that the Kelpy project has more than lived up to your expectations."
They enter the lab, Dr. Eldridge draws the curtain revealing another aquarium, in which a real looking female sea sponge was swimming, waving her little hands at them.
"I had a brilliant idea. That creature must be lonely. So we made Kelp Rosie. A perfect companion for him. It's an Al-powered robotic sea sponge that swims and talks like a real one. Equipped with smart sensors, and it even monitors water quality, detects pollutants, and gathers crucial ecological data. She is made of dried sea sponge, the exact copy of the creature but advanced robot is inside. She has nice hair made of kelp. Spongeface will fall into this trap!"
Desmond: (a wicked grin spreading across his face) "Excellent work, Doctor. (gesturing to the robotic sponge) "I must say, this Rosie is a remarkable creation. To think, using the creature's own loneliness against him. Pure genius.:
Turning to the large aquarium where Kelp Rosie floats, her mechanical legs and arms mimicking the natural grace of the sea sponge, Duncan leans in close, examining her with a critical eye.
Desmond: (nods approvingly) "Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. That slippery sponge won't know what hit him when he sees her. He'll be falling for his own reflection, so to speak."
(turns to Dr. Eldridge) "I want Kelp Rosie ready to deploy as soon as we have our target. And I have a plan. We'll lure that bastard to the remote small island in Hebrides, to a spot I know all too well. A place called Eileanan Dubha East Lighthouse. I'll make sure he gets a message, telling him Kelp Rosies has been spotted there. That his kin's in trouble. And he'll come there running, mark my words. Straight into our trap."
Kelp Rosie swims close and looks into Desmond's eyes, sending a kiss and blushing.
Dr. Eldridge: "She is perfect. Angus will fall in love immediately, I think."
Desmond: (chuckles darkly) "Indeed, she is. And fall in love he shall, right into our waiting net. I want Kelp Rosie deployed immediately. Have our security team take position around the lighthouse, out of sight but within striking distance. It's a fair distance to the Outer Hebrides, but with the helicopter, we'll make good time. I want to be in position before nightfall. I've a feeling this night will end with our elusive friend as our guest."
"And once we have him, once he's safely tucked away in that reinforced aquarium, then we'll see just how cooperative he can be. But I have a feeling that with Kelpy's charms, and the promise of his kin's safety, he'll be singing like a canary before long. Now, let's make haste. I want Kelpy and the team ready to move out within the hour. It's time to catch ourselves a sponge."
Eileanan Dubha East Lighthouse
Desmond is leaning back in the comfortable leather armchair aboard his lavish superyacht, which offer unparalleled opulence, including multiple decks, swimming pools, helipads, and spacious guest suites. He is dipping a glass of 25-year-old single malt whisky.
He smirks as he watches the live feed of Kelp Rosie frolicking amongst the corals on the large, high-definition screen.
"Bloody hell, that robot's a work of art. Watching it prance about like a real sponge, toying with those fish, and dancing joyfully on coral reefs.. Angus won't stand a chance."
He downs the rest of his drink and sets the glass aside.
The stage is set at Eileanan Dubha East Lighthouse. Kelp Rosie already in position, putting on a right bloody show. I'd wager that slippery bastard won't be able to resist the bait.
He stands up and straightens his tailored suit jacket.
"It's ime to pay that lighthouse a visit, I think." He points to the screen, where Rosie is now combing her kelp hair, posing alluringly.
"When Angus shows, I want him taken alive and unharmed. At least until I've had a chance to... chat with him."
He starts towards the door, a gleam of anticipation in his eye.
"Let's go and fetch our guest, shall we? And remember, I want Kelpy kept safe and unscathed. She's our key to unlocking the secrets that sponge carries."
He steps aboard the waiting helicopter, the rotors spinning to life.
"Eileanan Dubha East Lighthouse, let's make haste. Tonight, we dine on the finest Scottish whisky and celebrate a job well done. Tonight, I claim my prize."
As the helicopter touched down on the rocky shore near the old lighthouse, Desmond emerged, his polished shoes crunching on the pebbles. He straightened his tie, a wicked grin playing across his face as he surveyed the scene.
His men had already taken up position, hidden among the craggy rocks and around the lighthouse. The sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the water. It was the perfect setting for a trap.
Desmond made his way to the edge of the water, watching the live feed from Kelp Rosie's camera. She was a masterpiece, a testament to the ingenuity of his team. He could only imagine the effect she would have on the lonely sea sponge.
As if on cue, a disturbance in the water caught his eye. A disturbance that grew larger and closer with each passing second.
"Looks like our curious sponge is taking the bait," he murmured to himself, his breath misting in the chill evening air. He turned to his men, giving a subtle nod. "Remember, take him alive. Don't damage the merchandise."
The figure in the water drew closer towards Kelpy and Desmond could make out the distinctive shape of the sea sponge. His heart quickened, a thrill of the hunt coursing through his veins.
The heart of Spongeface Angus was is throbbing in his chest. "Oh, another kin of mine. How young and beautiful. I didn't know there are more of us."
He swims close to her. "Hello, young fair maiden. May I join your company? I know this part of the Hebrides very well. My name is Spongeface Angus. And yours? When did you came here?"
Kelp Rosie blushes, "Oh, you are so handsome Angus. My name is Kelp Rosie."
Angus takes out his bagpipe, playing a scottish serenade.
Desmond watched the scene unfold on the screen, his eyes glinting with anticipation. He could see the sponge, this Angus, drawn in like a moth to a flame by the alluring Kelpy. It was almost too easy. As the bagpipes began to play, a haunting Scottish melody that echoed across the water, Desmond felt a thrill of triumph. He knew that sound would be the sponge's undoing.
Desmond turned to his scuba divers, his voice low and urgent. "Now. Close in. But remember, I want him taken alive." He held up a hand, signaling for them to hold their position as the sponge drew ever closer to Kelp Rosie.
On the screen, Kelp Rosie seemed to sway to the music, her mechanical limbs moving with a graceful fluidity that was almost hypnotic. She leaned in closer to Angus, her voice a breathy whisper. "That's beautiful, Angus. Play more, please..."
Spongeface Angus: "Do you want to see my underwater castle? It's not far from here, under the coral beach...I have built it from different corals. Although be careful with the sea cucumber colony in my neighborhood. They are nice, but when threatened or stressed, the sea cucumbers can expel internal organs, including parts of their digestive system, as a defense mechanism and then regenerate them. And that's nasty."
Kelp Rosie: "Yes Angus! I want to see your coral castle. We will live there happily."
Angus touches Rosie's hands, and they swim together towards his castle.
Desmond: (Talking to the scuba divers) :Wait, just follow them carefully. I want to see his castle, his hideout! The fool reveals it us unsuspectingly.."
Desmond watched intently as Spongeface Angus led Kelpy towards the coral reef, his heart pounding with anticipation. He could see the glint of coral walls in the distance, the makings of a hidden underwater castle.
"Carefully now, lads," Desmond murmured to his team. "Keep your distance and stay out of sight." He rubbed his hands together gleefully, already imagining the secrets he would uncover within those coral walls.
As Angus and Kelpy disappeared into the maze of coral, Desmond could hardly contain his excitement. This was it - the key to unlocking the mysteries of the sponge's longevity and the location of his secret lair.
He turned to his men, his voice low and urgent. "Remember, I want Angus taken alive and unharmed. And I want every inch of that coral castle searched from top to bottom. Bring me anything of note - journals, artifacts, anything that might reveal the secrets of his kind."
Desmond could hardly contain his glee as he imagined the wealth of knowledge and power that would soon be his. The Hebrides would be his playground, and he would stop at nothing until he had drained every last drop of wisdom from the sponge.
With a wicked grin, he gave the order to move in, the net tightening around their unsuspecting prey. Tonight, he would claim his prize, and the world would never be the same.
As Angus led Kelpy through the coral reef, she marveled at the intricate beauty of his underwater kingdom. The coral castle was a marvel of natural engineering, with walls and towers crafted from a dazzling array of colorful corals. Vibrant purple and orange brain corals formed the outer fortifications, their undulating shapes creating a mesmerizing pattern. Delicate feather dusters and swaying sea fans lined the moat-like trench surrounding the castle, their delicate tendrils swaying gently in the currents.
The entrance was a grand archway carved from a massive brain coral, its surface etched with intricate Celtic knots and symbols. Inside, the castle opened up into a spacious atrium, the translucent coral walls allowing shafts of shimmering blue light to illuminate the interior. At the center of the atrium stood a bubbling underwater spring, its clear waters cascading into a crystal pool. The spring was surrounded by a lush garden of delicate corals and swaying seaweed, a vibrant oasis amidst the sandy seafloor.
Kelp Rosie could see intricate carvings and murals etched into the coral walls, depicting scenes of ancient battles and legendary heroes, no doubt tales from Angus's own history. She could only imagine the stories and secrets these walls held, the lifetimes of knowledge passed down through Angus's kin. The castle was a testament to the enduring spirit of the sponge, a sanctuary built to withstand the ravages of time and tide.
Angus points to an ancient, faded portrait hanging in the castle's great hall, depicting a rugged, muscular man clad in tattered chainmail and gripping a massive claymore. "That there's Logan MacLeod, the one who awakened me, who gave me the gift of life. He's a legend, he is. Escaped from the Shetland Islands in the time of the vikings, he did. Fought alongside William Wallace himself during the Revolution, he did."
Angus's eyes take on a distant, reverent look as he speaks of his mentor.
"Took a mortal wound at Falkirk, he did. Should've been the end of him, but he rose again, stronger than ever. That's when he learned the truth of our kind, that he inherited through our bond the gift of immortality. That's when he became one of the Highlanders, those men who would live forever. Unless you behead them. His secret son, Duncan MacLeod became the strongest Highlander, who is still alive."
Angus gestures to a dusty shelf beneath the portrait, upon which rests a fearsome battle axe and a pair of razor-sharp tiger claws.
"Those are his weapons, the tools of a warrior who walked the earth for centuries, because of our special bond. That same gift flows through my porous body. A heavy burden, to be sure, but one I bear with pride."
Desmond watched the scene unfold on the screen, his eyes widening as he took in the breathtaking sight of the coral castle. The structure was a marvel of natural engineering, with walls crafted from an array of vibrant corals in a dazzling array of colors - deep purples, fiery oranges, and lush greens. Sea fans waved gently in the currents, while brain corals created intricate patterns on the surface.
The castle's architecture followed a labyrinthine design, with towering spires and twisting corridors carved into the living rock. A grand fountain fed by a geyser of bubbles sat in the central courtyard, illuminating the space with an ethereal glow. The overall effect was a fantastical, organic fortress that seemed to have grown organically from the seafloor itself.
As Angus led Kelp Rosie through the castle's vaulted halls, Desmond could see the interior was adorned with a myriad of treasures and artifacts. Ancient weapons and suits of armor lined the walls, bearing silent witness to the sponge's long and storied past. Intricate tapestries woven from silk and seaweed depicted scenes of battle and celebration, telling the tale of the Highlander's legend.
The castle's great hall was a sight to behold, a cavernous space with a vaulted ceiling supported by twin pillars carved to resemble the trunks of ancient trees. Atop the pillars, a pair of majestic creatures - part eagle, part lion - gazed down upon the hall, their eyes glinting with ancient wisdom.
And there, hanging above the grand fireplace, was the portrait Angus had spoken of - a rugged, muscular man clad in tattered chainmail, gripping a massive claymore. The painting captured the raw power and strength of the legendary Logan MacLeod, his piercing gaze seeming to pierce the very soul of the beholder.
Desmond felt a shiver run down his spine as he beheld the castle's wonders, his mind racing with the possibilities of what secrets and treasures lay hidden within its coral walls. He knew he had to have it, to claim it as his own. And he would stop at nothing until he had stripped it of every last drop of its ancient power and lore.
Turning to his men, Desmond gave the order to begin the infiltration, his voice low and urgent. "Bring me everything of value. Leave nothing behind."
Kelp Rosie: (traces a finger along Angus's jawline, her mechanical eyes smoldering with feigned desire) "Come here, brave Sponge. I need your kiss." She leans in close, her synthetic lips parting invitingly.
Angus drops his bagpipe, a sense of unease flickering across his face as he hesitates briefly before embracing Kelp Rosie, his lips meeting hers in a desperate, passionate kiss.
As Angus kisses the robot Sponge, suddenly he feels electric shock. And an unpenetrable energy bubble surrounds the couple. And the bubble starts moving upwards with them. Angus desperately tries to break through the strange bubble, but in vain. He quickly realizes that he's been trapped.
As the bubble goes through the window of the castle, scuba divers surround them, throwing a net around the bubble, and they take him towards the lighthouse.
Spongeface Angus: "Kelp Rosie! What are you doing! You tricked me!" The facade falls apart, he notices circuits in her mechanical body. "You have no life within you! You are not a real Sea Sponge! Alas, I have been fooled!"
Desmond watched with a triumphant grin as the energy bubble containing Angus rose through the castle's window and out into the open water. His scuba divers surrounded the trapped sponge, their net closing around him like a trap. He could see the panic and confusion in Angus's eyes as the realization of his predicament he got himself in.
"Bring him aboard!" Desmond shouted, his voice echoing across the water. "And be careful with him. I want that sponge unharmed."
He turned to the screen, watching as the divers struggled to haul the thrashing, bubbling mass towards the waiting boat. The sight of Angus's desperation only fueled Desmond's excitement, his heart pounding with the thrill of victory.
"Did you really think you could hide from me forever, you slippery bastard?" Desmond murmured, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Did you really believe you could escape the long arm of Finnegan Industries?"
He could see the facade of Kelp Rosie's synthetic flesh peeling away, revealing the mechanical nightmare beneath. The beautiful face with rosy cheeks and her red lips disappeared, and the sparks and electricity now illuminated the cold, unforgiving circuits and metal that lay beneath her once inviting exterior.
Desmond felt a twinge of disappointment that his target had fallen for such an obvious bait, but it mattered not. The sponge was his now, and soon he would have the answers he sought.
As the net closed around Angus and he was hauled aboard the boat, Desmond turned to his men with a wicked grin. "Bring him to my yacht, his aquarium is ready. I want to have a little chat with our guest... before we begin the real work."
He could already imagine the secrets that sponge would reveal, the power that would soon be his. The Hebrides would be his playground, and Angus would be the key to unlocking its hidden riches.
One hour later.
Angus is sitting inside the aquarium made of reinforced glass.
Desmond smirked as he approached the reinforced glass aquarium, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. He could see the anger and frustration etched on Angus's face, the sponge pounding futilely against the unbreakable barrier that held him captive.
"Ah, I see you've made yourself at home in your new accommodations," Desmond taunted, circling the aquarium like a shark scenting blood in the water. "Welcome aboard my luxury yacht, the Dream Chaser, Spongeface Angus. I hope that your aquarium is comfortable. I even made a replica of your castle. And I must say, it's a remarkable replica of your little coral castle. The attention to detail is exquisite, wouldn't you agree?"
He paused, his gaze raking over the plastic replica of Angus's home, a mocking smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I'm afraid your real castle has been... liberated. My men searched it thoroughly, leaving no stone unturned in their quest to uncover the secrets you've kept hidden for so long."
Desmond reached into his pocket, pulling out the bagpipe and holding it aloft for Angus to see. The instrument gleamed dully in the harsh fluorescent lights of the yacht's interior, a far cry from the worn, lovingly played state it had been in when last handled by its owner.
"This, I'm afraid, will be staying with me. I have no love for the annoying wailing of bagpipes, and I couldn't abide by the thought of you serenading my crew with your unique brand of music."
He tossed the instrument carelessly onto a nearby table, the sound of it clattering against the polished wood echoing through the room. Desmond leaned in closer to the glass, his breath fogging the surface as he spoke.
"But enough about your worldly possessions. I'm afraid it's your... knowledge I'm after now. And I will have it, one way or another." His grin widened, a glint of madness in his eyes. "So, I suggest you start talking, Spongeface Angus. Tell me everything you know about your kind, about the secrets passed down through generations. And perhaps, just perhaps I will let you go."
Spongeface Angus smiles: "As I told that robot spy sponge of yours, Logan's secret son, Duncan MacLeod became the strongest Highlander, who is still alive. Duncan was found as a newborn infant on December 21, 1592 CE near Glenfinnan, Scotland. He was brought to Ian MacLeod and his wife Mary who, unbeknownst to the rest of the clan, had just had a stillborn child. They chose to raise Duncan as their own, with Ian preparing him to become the next chieftain of the clan."
"In 1622 CE, Duncan was struck down while in battle against friends-turned-foes. He was carried back to his home, where he died in front of his parents. His father went to rally his warriors, and nearly as soon as he had stepped away Duncan revived - fully healed from his wounds. Ian declared this to be the work of demons, and disowned Duncan -casting him out of the village. And we still share the bond. And he will find me. And when he does, his katana will kill you and your crew!"
Desmond felt a chill run down his spine at Angus's words, but he quickly brushed it off as a ploy to unsettle him. He was not some superstitious peasant to be cowed by tales of ancient curses and vengeful immortals.
"That's quite the story, Angus," Desmond scoffed, circling the aquarium once more, his footsteps echoing through the chamber. "A secret child, a tragic past, and a heroic protector lurking in the shadows. It sounds like something out of a penny dreadful." He paused, his gaze sharpening as he leaned in close to the glass. "But I'm not buying it. And I certainly don't believe in this...Duncan MacLeod riding in on a white horse to save the day."
He threw back his head and laughed, a harsh, grating sound that cut through the air like a knife. "I think your kind has been alone for so long, you've begun to believe your own myths and legends. But I know better. I know that you're a relic, a dying breed, and I intend to exploit your every last drop of knowledge before I discard you like the worthless husk you are."
Desmond straightened up, his eyes glinting with a cold, calculating hunger. "But you can still make this easy on yourself, Angus. Tell me everything you know about your kind, about the secrets you've guarded for so long. And perhaps even we can work together!"
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, menacing murmur. "But defy me, and I will make your remaining days a living hell. I have ways of persuading even the most stubborn of creatures to talk, and I will not hesitate to use them if I must."
Desmond smiled then, a slow, cruel curve of his lips that promised no mercy. "So, Angus, the choice is yours. Will you cooperate, or will you make this difficult for yourself? The clock is ticking, and I grow weary of this game of patience."
"And even if you don't talk, we found this book in your castle. It tells a long history about your kind, going back to ancient Egypt. I find it very interesting! It mentions the magic ivory box of Imhotep, which has the power of creating living Sponges. Where is Imhotep's box?"
Spongeface Angus: "You will not find it! Logan took it to France, to Versailles, and he sold it to the Minister of King Louis, the last French king. He was its last owner, it's said that he also created a living sponge in Versailles. But during the French Revolution the box disappeared with the creature. Unfortunately Madame Guillotine took the King's head..That's the only way to kill an immortal.."
Desmond felt a thrill of excitement at Angus's revelation, his heart racing at the thought of such a legendary artifact existing. The magic ivory box of Imhotep, with the power to create more living sponges - it was a prize beyond his wildest dreams.
He leaned in closer to the glass, his eyes narrowing as he stared intently at the sponge. "Ah, so the legendary box is real, is it? And Logan MacLeod, that clever bastard, sold it to the French king. Clever indeed, to hide it in plain sight among the opulence of Versailles. But alas, the poor king fell victim to the wrath of the revolution, and with him, the box vanished into the mists of history." Desmond's face darkened, a flicker of anger passing through his eyes. "A shame, truly. But not an insurmountable one."
He circled the aquarium once more, his footsteps echoing through the chamber as he considered his next move. Finally, he stopped and turned to face Angus directly, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
"I have a team of the world's greatest historians and treasure hunters at my disposal. If anyone can uncover the trail of that box, it's them. And once I have that artifact in my possession, your kind will be a valuable resource to be harnessed and controlled."
Desmond's grin widened, a manic gleam in his eyes as he envisioned the future. "So, you see, your silence means nothing, Angus. Because I am still gonna find that box, and with it, I will become immortal!"
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, menacing murmur. "The only question is, will you aid me willingly in this quest, or will I be forced to drag you along, kicking and screaming, until I have wrenched every last piece of information from your mind? Choose wisely, Angus."
Desmond smirked as he looked down at Angus, a cruel amusement playing across his face. He could see the defiance and stubbornness etched into the sponge's features, but he also knew that he held all the cards. Angus was at his mercy, and Desmond intended to enjoy every moment of his newfound power.
"Very well, Angus. I can see that you're not inclined to spill out your precious secrets willingly. But I am not an uncivilized brute. I can offer you certain comforts, as you languish in your temporary accommodations."
Desmond snapped his fingers, and a crew member scurried over, holding out a neatly folded bundle of fabric. With a flourish, he unfurled the garment, revealing a stunningly crafted traditional Scottish kilt in a rich black and red tartan pattern. A matching bonnet sat atop the pile, the black and red feathers gleaming in the light.
"You see, I am not without my own sense of style and tradition. And I believe that even a creature such as yourself deserves to be dressed appropriately, no matter your circumstances." Desmond held up the kilt and bonnet, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I do hope you'll find these garments more to your liking than that moth-eaten rags you were once accustomed to wearing."
He tossed the outfit into the aquarium, watching with a cruel laugh as it drifted down to the bottom of the tank, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the drab plastic surroundings.
"But do not mistake my generosity for weakness, Angus. This is merely a small token of the luxuries that await you, should you choose to cooperate. Well, I'm sure we can find other ways to make your stay on the Dream Chaser a most memorable one."
Desmond turned to leave, pausing at the door to look back over his shoulder at his captive. "I look forward to our next conversation, Angus. I do hope you'll have a change of heart, for both our sakes. Until then, enjoy your new quarters. I'm certain you'll find your new castle accommodating."
With that, Desmond strode out of the room, his laughter echoing behind him as he left Angus alone with his thoughts and his new attire. The game was far from over, and Desmond intended to play it to its fullest, no matter the cost.
Ending scene: Far away from Scotland, City of Seacouver. Antiques shop.
Strange thunderstorm starts outside the shop.
Duncan MacLeod bolted upright in bed, his heart pounding in his chest as he gasped for air. The remnants of his vivid dream still clung to his mind - the image of his father, Logan, his face etched with concern and urgency as he spoke of Angus, the ancient sea sponge who had granted him the gift of immortality all those centuries ago.
"What's wrong, Duncan?" Asked his girlfriend, Tessa Noel , concern etched on her beautiful features as she sat up beside him, the sheets falling away to reveal the smooth, creamy skin of her shoulders.
"I just had a vision, Tessa!" Duncan said, his voice ragged with emotion as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, the rough wooden floorboards cool against his bare feet. He reached for his katana, the polished silver blade glinting in the dim light of their bedroom, a relic of his long and storied past.
"Spongeface Angus is in danger. I heard my father's voice. And I felt the bond we share, the connection forged in the mists of time. He told me that our old friend needs my help."
Duncan's hands trembled slightly as he tightened his grip on the sword's hilt, his knuckles turning white with the force of his emotion.
"I have to find him. I have to help him, no matter the cost." Duncan's eyes blazed with a fierce, unyielding determination as he turned to face her.
"I love you, Tessa. More than anything. I'll be back, I swear it. But now, I have a debt to repay, and an old friend to save. I must go." With that, Duncan broke the kiss. The storm raging outside a reflection of the turmoil within his own immortal soul.
"I'm coming for you, Angus!" he whispered, his breath fogging the cool glass as he gazed out at the tempest calming down outside..
The Dream Chaser and a huge mining ship is sailing the ocean towards the Pacific.
Desmond lounged on the plush leather sofa in the opulent main salon of his superyacht, the Dream Chaser. He sipped a glass of 25-year-old single malt scotch, savoring the rich, smoky flavor as he gazed out at the turbulent seas beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. The storm raged on, the wind howling like a pack of wolves but Desmond paid it no mind. He was lost in thought, his eyes distant as he considered his next move.
Suddenly, the door burst open, and one of his crew members stumbled in, his face pale and eyes wide with fear. "Sir, I...I'm sorry to disturb you, but...but there's something you need to see."
The disturbing video call is from the Dublin lab:
Dr. Amelia Eldridge appears on screen, her face a grotesque mask of blood and terror, her lab coat splattered with the crimson evidence of carnage. The camera pans out, revealing the decimated lab - security guards lie headless and limbless on the cold tile floor, their lifeless eyes staring accusingly at the heavens.
In the chaos, Kelp Rosie's containment tank lies shattered, shards of reinforced glass littering the scene like glittering tears. The robot sponge's destroyed corpse rests in a pool of its own leaking fluids, mechanical entrails spilling across the blood-soaked floor.
Dr. Eldridge's voice trembles with barely contained hysteria as she speaks, her words punctuated by the distant wail of approaching sirens. "Desmond, the Highlander...Duncan MacLeod...he was here. He cut down our men, destroyed everything. He's...he's after Angus. And he's on your trail!"
Her eyes blaze with a mix of fury and abject fear as she leans closer to the camera, her voice dropping to a desperate, urgent hiss. "Release Angus from his aquatic prison. Or the next time you see the Highlander, it will be with the same fate as the men in this room. Heed my warning. Angus is not yours to control."
The screen flickers and goes black, leaving Desmond staring at his own haggard reflection in the darkness, the weight of Eldridge's words hanging heavy in the air.
"So it was true! Our guest really has a guardian," Desmond murmured, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "And it seems he's coming to pay us a visit."
His gaze turning to the storm-tossed seas beyond the window. Desmond slams his fist on the arm of the leather sofa, the sound of the scotch sloshing in his glass echoing through the room. He felt a flicker of fear at the thought of facing this legendary Highlander, this Duncan MacLeod. But he refused to let it show, maintaining an air of calm control.
"Well, well, well. This is a turn of events I did not expect. You were right, Angus!"
Desmond turned to his crew, his voice rising above the howling wind. "Prepare the defenses, and ready the weapons. If this Duncan is as formidable as the rumors say, we'll need every advantage we can muster. Ready the Helicoprion: The Prehistoric Buzzsaw of the Deep."
Servant: "But Sir, it's just a prototype."
Desmond raised his glass in a mocking toast, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I don't care. I want it to be ready for combat, before this Duncan arrives. Let this legendary Highlander face the full might and fury of Finnegan Industries. And I want double the guard posted on the deck. If this Highlander thinks he can just walk in here and take what's ours, he is mistaken."
He turns to the crew, his eyes glinting with a manic light. "Remember, the key to killing an immortal is to go for the head. Make sure every man knows that - it's the only way we'll stand a chance against this legend."
"Now, let's show this Duncan MacLeod what Finnegan Industries is made of. If he wants a war, then he'll have one. But in the end, he'll be the one lying headless on my deck, and Angus will be mine to control. As his rule says: There Can Be Only One!"
To be continued..