THE ADVENTURES OF HAMISH McSPIRTLE
Drawn by "Enkemeniel"
(Any resemblance to persons alive or dead is entirely intentional) 
This is actually just for fun, and is nothing to do with Joe McFadden, except that he kind of inspired us to create this character. There are more characters who we've modelled on certain other celebs. and we'll share the secret at some point...like when we're sure we won't get sued. 
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PROLOGUE
The mist hung heavily across the wooded glen, making the trees and the hedges barely visible. No one, save an inquisitive fox, was aware of the almost indiscernible kilted figure who was making his way to the castle, dragging behind him a dishevelled, blood soaked pile of clothing. If the fox had a better look he might have realised that beneath the clothing was the body of a young man, his life ebbing away as the blood seeped out from the wound caused when the dirk had penetrated his chest wall.
"Not much further now," said the perpetrator of the fatal assault. "You'll forgive me for not carrying you...but I dinnae want to get covered in blood."
A barely audible moan escaped from the body whose spirit was rapidly fading.
"Ach, it'll soon be over," said the man. "You'll be at peace my wee brother, and I'll have it all."
The silence of the night was broken by the sound of a woman's anguished scream. Bogle Fergus McMurky stopped, momentarily fearful, and looked around. There was no-one to be seen, and he continued with the task of getting his dying brother into the castle, where he would remain for eternity, never to be seen again...thanks to the amulet.
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Charlotte watched from the kitchen window as her 10 year old daughter Caitlin played in the garden with their West Highland terrier, Sheri. In the near distance she could see Castle McSpirtle - the reason they were here. The whole area was undeniably beautiful, but she missed the noise and bustle of Manchester, and she was lonely. They'd been living in the cottage in the grounds of the castle for a week, and she'd barely seen a soul apart from the builders who had arrived today. Even her husband Greg was out until all hours, walking in the grounds of the castle, or looking around the inside, envisaging how it would look when it was the Glenview Hotel. Greg didn't think McSpirtle Hotel sounded attractive enough, and Charlie had been pleased that there were no descendants around to take umbridge. Although if there had been descendants, maybe the castle wouldn't have fallen into such a state of disrepair.
In all honesty, Charlie felt quite uncomfortable about the place. It gave her the creeps, and the locals didn't help. When they'd stopped off in the village to buy groceries, and Greg had bragged about buying the castle, they had been met with some very odd glances, and plenty of "Oh dear, oh dear oh dear oh dear."
The nearest neighbours were a good ten minutes walk, and the village of Duncaskell was ten minutes more. She couldn't wait to get her own car, if only to get Caitlin to school when the term started in a month's time.
Above the noise of the bulldozers coming from the vicinity of the castle, she heard the phone ring. Before answering it, she banged on the window to her daughter.
"Don't go outside of the garden!"
Caitlin smiled and waved, and continued to play with her dog. Charlie smiled. Her daughter was happy anywhere.
When Charlie heard her mother's voice, she burst into tears. Suddenly, it all seemed too much.
"I'm sorry, mum, but I hate it here. I wish Greg had never heard of Castle McSpirtle."
Her sympathetic mother asked her why she couldn't return to London until the renovations were complete.
"Because I'd be there until Caitlin gets married," Charlie replied. "You haven't seen it - there is so much work to be done. I can't see it being ready for guests for years. This is so typical of Greg - ever since he discovered that he has Scottish roots, he's been unbearable."
"Well you should have put your foot down, dear," said her mother. "If he wants to play the Laird, let him do it. It's no reason why you and Caitlin should have to live in the back of beyond."
"It'll be lovely when it's done," said Charlie defensively. "And it is beautiful here."
Her mother snorted. Charlie knew she had never been keen on Greg, with his brash New York manner. Buying a run down old castle had just convinced her that not only was he brash, but he was mad too.
"I'd better go, mum - I want to see what Cait is up to. I'll call you tomorrow."
Charlie ambled back to the kitchen, thinking about what her mother had said. Greg had been so convincing when he said how good the move would be for Caitlin...that here there was fresh air and natural beauty, and that the people had a sense of values long since forgotten by a lot of city folk.
"I'm the one being selfish," she decided. Collecting Sheri's lead from the hall table, she went outside intending to take dog and daughter for a walk, maybe into the village where they could sit in a quaint little cafe and have an ice-cream.
"Caitlin?"
There was no answer. Charlie ran to the gate and called her daughter again, but there was silence, save for the noise of the builders working at the castle.
Her daughter was nowhere to be seen.
She hurried outside and anxiously called out to Caitlin and then Sheri, but when there was no reply she found it difficult to suppress her rising panic. She quickly locked the back door of the house and ran down the path leading away from the garden.
As the path veered to the left she stopped short, and it was with relief she heard Caitlin chattering to Sheri, although her relief was tempered with concern as she heard her daughter's words.
"Wasn't that a strange guy? Have you ever seen a man wearing a skirt? But he was very nice, wasn't he..."
Charlie's knees felt weak. How often had she told Caitlin not to talk to strangers? Or had Caitlin lost her way and asked the first person she saw? Charlie was glad now that she hadn't followed her first instinct and phoned Greg, as all too often he would make her feel inadequate - a task he seemed to have taken over from his mother ever since they left New York four years ago.
"What were you thinking, Caitlin?" she asked as her daughter came closer. Didn't I tell you not to leave the garden?" But her relief was greater than her anger.
Caitlin didn't seem to listen anyway. She was still preoccupied with the encounter with the stranger. "There was a man, Mum, and he wore a checked skirt! He said he was living in the castle."