His Answer
(Big thanks to Schipperke for gifting me the kilt from the Store. Without it Leander, and by extension this update, would not exist as it does now.)
Scotland. One of the most beautiful places in the world. The hills rose into the sky and the lakes twinkled in the moonlight. The only thing to make it seem like home was rain, but unfortunately Seasons had not yet arrived to the lands of the kilt.
At the peak of a waterfall in these highlands lay a small cottage, where two young men were resting.
One was Angus of the mighty Douglas clan. His friend had asked him to prepare some food and watch for a taxi. Angus didn't know who was coming, but he hoped that they wouldn't stay for long. He wasn't entirely trusting of outsiders, let alone outsiders with hair dye.
The other, named Leander MacSimmie, tended to the fire in the cottage. He was expecting company, though he did not know them very well. All they said was that they were friends of Ssttarr. She was a good person, Ssttarr Mmcphagall, so Leander trusted that these strangers would at least be polite. In the meantime, his guests were discussing their outfits.
Her: Aren't you getting in the car? Come on! You can cheer about your kilt later!
A: If I don't appreciate it now, I won't truly savor the moment!
Her: It's a kilt! It's plaid, it's orange, it looks like a dress. Let's go!
A: Now, now, don't insult such a proud tradition! These kilts have been worn for generations, for hundreds of years! They are
not dresses!
Her: Come on. We're asking Leander for advertising, not fashion advice!
It was not long before our Dynamic Duo arrived at the cottage by the waterfall, and it was not long before they were greeted by their host.
Angus: Welcome to the MacSimmie estate, laddie! Angues Douglas, at your service! What may I do for ya?
A: Estate? This is a cottage.
Angus: This may seem like a cottage to ya, but it's all that's left of Leander's estate. If you'd excuse me, I'm cooking for our guests.
A: That would be us.
Angus: Really? How do I know ya not just
pretending to be our guests?
A: Ssttarr Mmcphagall doesn't send liars to her friends. Especially not Leander.
Angus: Ssttarr? Hmm. Perhaps ya are the strangers. Ya
do have that awful food coloring in your hair.
Angus: Come on in, lady and gentleman. Leander's waiting for ya.
Her: Thank you, Angus.
Leander: Welcome to my home, Mr. Simself. Leander MacSimmie, proud member of the mighty MacSimmie clan. Ssttarr said you were coming, but she didn't say why. Just something about moles or something.
A: Yes, The Mole in fact. You're a friend of Ssttarr's?
Leander: Oh yes. We have the same overseer, in fact.
A: Overseer?
Leander: Overseer. Watcher. Visitor from Dimension H. Whichever ya prefer.
Leander: Now, perhaps your friend here can explain about The Mole.
Her: My... friend, is the host of a TV show called The Mole. Your friend Ssttarr was a contestant on it.
Angus: That's what Ssttarr was talking on and on about. I just assumed she had finally gone batty, if you get my meaning.
Her: Not quite.
A: Unfortunately, I have not been able to attract enough contestants to join, which puts us in a difficult position.
Leander: Sounds like it! What are you suggesting?
A: Well, my partner here pointed out that I had only recruited within our own country, and not in others. I remembered that Ssttarr had friends in Scotland, so here I am.
Angus: What are you here for?
A: I came to ask you if you would hold a recruitment ad in order to gather more contestants. I can provide the funds, if that is an issue.
Leander: I could certainly do that, but I'd like to propose another possibility.
A: Certainly. Propose away.
Leander: What if
I was your last contestant? It would be quicker for you, and I'd have a chance of winning enough money to earn the true MacSimmie estate back. What'd ya say?
A: Are you sure you want to do this, Leander?
Leander: Of course! Ssttarr did it, and look where she's gotten! She has her own story! If I sign up, who knows what'll happen?
A: Very well then. Welcome to The Mole, Leander MacSimmie.
Leander: When do I get started, laddie?
