the great and the good

Sir Hamish McChurmley Wurmer: What brings you to the National Portrait Gallery of Scotland my good man?
Rt Hon Ezekiel MicMacMcIntosh: My ingenious and cunning discovery of the lost tribe of Uzante and their curious tongue twisting delicacy the curly wurly
Sir Hamish McChurmley Wurmer: Good heavens man.. astonishing. What would our lives be without twisted toffee confection? Simply brilliant. I heartedly commend you.
Rt Hon Ezekiel MicMacMcIntosh: .. and you my esteemed colleague? what great marvel did you gift to the greatness of the Scottish Nation?
Sir Hamish McChurmley Wurmer: aa.. therein lies a curious tale my good man. In fact literally a tail. I was chasing the last of the polka spotted red squirrels, famed for it's magnificently appendaged gargantuan tail, which it uses to swing from the bagpipes of wandering shepherds over the granite greatness of the Grampians mountains. Late one balmy evening, after our light supper of butterfly stuffed zebra, I was camping with my chef, barber and tailor at the base of Ben Nevis when I laid down my blunderbust and attempted to get some sleep. Despite my pillow fluffer's best attempts I simply could not settle into somnolence. The lumps and bumps of the rocks below defied me on every measure.
Rt Hon Ezekiel MicMacMcIntosh: I find a dose of laudanum a great panacea at such times, especially when dispensed by a buxom wench of a local tribe.
Sir Hamish McChurmley Wurmer: quite so.. but on this occasion there simply was no blasted way round it. The ground had far too many perturbations to merit any Christian fellow the sleep of angels. In frustration I asked my dwarf to climb under the tent rigging and remove all rocks.
Rt Hon Ezekiel MicMacMcIntosh: Darned clever those aye-plods
Sir Hamish McChurmley Wurmer: Indeed... especially when he returned with a smooth egg shaped stone, that was as rough to the touch as all the rocks surrounding it, but emitted a faint tapping noise
Rt Hon Ezekiel MicMacMcIntosh: a tapping noise..?
Sir Hamish McChurmley Wurmer: indeed. In much the same manner as a new found chickling or butter quayle. A tapping was distinctly resounding from inside the oval rock within the dwarf's palms.
Rt Hon Ezekiel MicMacMcIntosh: So what did you do sire? Shoot it I hope, no good thing ever came out of a rockin-egg
Sir Hamish McChurmley Wurmer: Certainly not sir, no respectable Scots explorer would ever turn his back on such a fiendish new discovery. No sir. I cracked it.
Rt Hon Ezekiel MicMacMcIntosh: you cracked it?
Sir Hamish McChurmley Wurmer: Indeed I did. Cracked it, right down the middle.
Rt Hon Ezekiel MicMacMcIntosh: ... and what did you find in there?
Sir Hamish McChurmley Wurmer:...come closer so that I may whisper it with my moustache touching your ear hair.
Rt Hon Ezekiel MicMacMcIntosh: but I am as close as I can be sir, I can smell the gunpowder tobacco on your breath.
Sir Hamish McChurmley Wurmer: Come closer still... that's it.. So that was how..
Rt Hon Ezekiel MicMacMcIntosh: yes..?
Sir Hamish McChurmley Wurmer: I uncovered
Rt Hon Ezekiel MicMacMcIntosh: .. go on..
Sir Hamish McChurmley Wurmer: and set free for all mankind
Rt Hon Ezekiel MicMacMcIntosh: .. uh huh..
Sir Hamish McChurmley Wurmer: Sean Connery's lisp


or alternatively you can look up wiki for Gilbert Goudie shetland author and antiquarian, and Adam B Richardson, another Scottish collector and writer.

Did I mention I was doing a magic realism class this week?