Early the next morning, a loud, thunderous knock on the door awoke Michael from a sound sleep.
"Mmmmph, go away," he muttered, his face buried in the pillow.
"Mike, do you know what time it is?" a screeching Terry Jones demanded.
"Time for you to sod off and let me get back to sleep?" he answered, sarcastically.
"It's seven-thirty! We've got to be out and filming at Doune in half an hour!"
Michael sat up in bed and glanced at the small travel clock he'd brought with him. It read 7:08 a.m. He groaned. Either Jonesy's watch was fast or this was some kind of cruel joke.
"Oh, come on, Terry! Doune is just a couple of miles away, it'll take us 15 minutes to get there. We've got plenty of time!" Mike yelled, annoyed.
"But it's our big Busby-Berkeley production number, Mike!" Terry said in his high-pitched voice, "we've got to get there early to set up inside the castle!!"
"We've got to get there early to set up inside the castle," Michael mockingly imitated Terry under his breath. He couldn't go back to sleep now, he was wide awake. He got up and stretched. He went over to the mirror and ran a comb through his hair. Yes, it did look a lot neater, if he did say so himself. They were scheduled to film the Castle Anthrax scene in a few days, a scene which called for Michael to be soaking wet. Hopefully now his hair wouldn't be hanging in his eyes. He brushed his teeth, picked up his costume bag and car keys, and exited the room.
As he made his way downstairs, he saw Graham, John and Eric seated on the couch and chairs. Apparently they had also been victims of Jonesy's early wake-up calls.
Mike looked around. "Where's Gilliam?" he asked.
John looked up and snorted. "He's already outside loading up the lorry with equipment," he grumbled.
Michael raised an eyebrow. "You mean he didn't need to be woken up by Terry this morning?"
John quickly turned his glance toward the front door, then turned back to Mike. "Are you joking, Palin? He's the one who woke Jonesy up!"
Michael snorted, mostly annoyed at himself for overlooking common sense. Terry Jones rushed inside. "Ah, there you all are," he announced.
The four remaining Pythons glared at him.
"Well, what are you all standing there for?" Terry squealed, "let's go! Come on, hurry!"
He raced out the door, with the others reluctantly following behind. Eric turned toward the clerk seated at the front desk. "If we come back this evening short two persons," he said sarcastically, "don't say I didn't warn you."
The old man shook his head, chuckling to himself.
It was about 2 p.m. and very little progress had been made in the "Busby-Berkeley production number" scene Terry Jones had gone on about. Actually it was a singing and dancing scene involving the Pythons, plus male dancers from a London dance troupe, the so-called "Knights of the Round Table" scene. The two Terrys had spent most of the morning getting the scene set up just right, placing the cameras here and there, while the rest of the Pythons idled about outside the castle. Michael spotted Eric sitting up against the castle wall, studying his lines for the next few scenes.
"Quite boring, eh?" Mike grinned as he came over and sat down next to Eric.
"I'll say," Eric replied, "I think I've studied these lines over seventeen times now."
Michael chuckled. "Yeah, I've just been walking around the grounds a bit." He stepped back and looked up at the castle. "Quite an interesting-looking place," he mused, squinting up at the structure.
"Alright, everybody together!" Terry Gilliam announced. Eric smoothed his hair back and pulled his knight hood up onto his head. Mike pushed his bangs back off his face, pulling his hood up and sticking his fake moustache back on. They hurried inside to join the rest.
Michael, Eric, John, Neil Innes, and both Terrys took their spots and waited for their cues. "Rolling....speed...action!" the cameraman called.
"In war we're tough and able, quite indefatigable," the Pythons sung along to Neil's raucous score. They performed the shot without a hitch, and the shot was in the bag. They sat down on the side to watch the filming of the dancing knights sequences.
"Oh, I'm glad that's over with," John sighed. Michael nodded in agreement as he pulled the hood down off his head and removed the moustache. They all watched the professional London dancers spin around and kick their legs about like young kids. The whole thing made Michael giggle. Suddenly something caught his eye. He turned his head sharply toward a narrow doorway, leading into another room which was not being used for shooting that day. He sat there, transfixed for several moments, before finally turning back toward the others.
"Did you see that?" he asked, softly.
"Hmm? See what?" John returned.
Michael pointed toward the doorway, then put his hand down when he remembered who he was talking to.
"Nothing," he sighed, "I just thought I saw....something."
"Okay, everyone, back outside!" Gilliam called. The other Pythons got up and began heading outside, but Mike was still staring at the vacant doorway, his eyes narrowed.
"Palin! What are you doing, staring at the doorway like that?"
Michael let out a small yelp as he turned back around and saw John standing there, arms folded, eyeing him up and down suspiciously.
"You di-didn't see anything in there just now?" Mike whimpered in a small voice.
"See what??" John demanded, raising his voice.
"N-n-nothing." Michael stammered, putting his head down.
John threw his hands up and walked away, annoyed, "Oh! Mike, sometimes I really wonder about you," he intoned as he walked out into the castle courtyard.
"Mike, what's going on?" Eric said, suspiciously.
"This may sound crazy, but... I just saw something in that doorway," he pointed to the doorway on the other side of the room.
Eric folded his arms and nodded, stroking his chin.
"Well?"
Eric looked around, then turned back to Mike. "What?"
"Did you?"
Eric shook his head. "No. Unless it was one of the crew members."
"No, no," Michael shook his head, "it...it looked like a monk or a servant of some sort."
"Probably one of the extras," Eric said.
"No, it wasn't!!" Mike replied, starting to sound desperate. "Eric, I was thinking about the conversation we had yesterday about this place being...haunted, and, well...."
Eric started to laugh. "Oh come off it, Mike. You really don't think this place is haunted, do you?"
Michael glared at him. "You think I'm a looney, don't you?" he snorted.
Eric stopped laughing. "No, it's just that...there has to be some kind of explanation for what you saw. I mean, just because you saw someone dressed in funny clothes doesn't mean they're some kind of bogeyman or something."
Mike sighed. "I guess you're right. After shooting wraps today, I'm going to see if I can find any information about Doune...what it was built for, who lived there and so forth. Maybe it will shed some light on this whole thing."
"Or maybe it will just prove that you are a looney after all," Eric joked.
Michael rolled his eyes and jabbed Eric in the ribs. "That's it Idle, I'm gonna let Gilliam have a go at your hair while you're asleep tonight," he replied with a mischievious grin on his face.
Eric left the castle and headed outside, with Mike slowly following. Just before he exited he turned one last time toward that doorway....