8:30 AM

On A Tuesday

"Ok, now spin around three times!"

King James IV of Scotland stood in his war room, blindfolded, and spun around four times. He pulls back his arm, and with all his strength tosses a dart at the map in front of him.

"AAAAUUUUUGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!"

Instead of the map, his highness the King of Scots had thrown the dart directly into the eyes of one of his generals. He screamed a bloody scream, rain straight into the map wall, and collapsed to the ground in pain. Everyone ran forward, but only looked down at the general for a brief moment before everyone gasped.

"Sire, look!"

As he removed his blindfold, he too was struck by what had happened - the blood from his general had created a perfect arch from Edinburgh to the Castle of Carickfergus in Clandeboye!

"This is truly an omen from God himself!" cried the king. "We shall invade the Irish at Carickfergus, and drive them out with our superiority! Now who here know anything about Carickfergus?"

The generals looked around nervously, then pointed to the man screaming on the ground. He simply continued to cry out in pain.

"Well then, good sir, please speak up! And stop whining, you are truly putting a damper on everyone's good spirits."

This simply caused the man to cry even louder.

"Alright, well I cannot have this kind of insolence in my chambers! Guards! Escort the general to the dungeons, if you please."

The guards lifted the screaming man, and carried him down the hallway, his screams dying out as he grew further away. Eventually the room was once again silent.

"Well who needed him anyway?" the king said, chuckling, "Clearly this is a castle that can be taken like any other. We shall assault it with the entire Scotish army, and I shall take command! With such force, nothing could possibly go wrong!"

It's Always Sunny in Scotland

"Craig, are you sure we are in the right place?"

The Scottish army had just landed across the Irish Sea on the green aisles, and there was not a single Irishman to be seen.

"Like, they got our war message, right? Surely they should have some sort of scouting force here, or something!"

"Shut up Fergus, can't you just see that this is all a part of God's plan? He told us to invade here, so He is blessing us with a perfect landing!"

"I guess, I just suppose I had expected to see some horsemen or something. It's what I would do..."

"Yea, well, you aren't God now, are you Fergus?"

"No, I guess not..."

"So who are you to question His blessings?"

"I guess I am no one then, Craig."

"Exactly! Now lets get moving - the sun is setting, and we need to arrive under the cover of darkness."

And so the gang Scottish army set off for the castle, ready to prepare a perfect surprise invasion.

Meanwhile on the English Navy ships

"OK men, now that we have some time while we sail to Cariskfergus, we need to make some adjustments to the cannons."

"What kind of adjustments sir?"

"We need to re-calibrate their angles, so that they are always 20 degrees above the angle set for them."

"... but sir, why would we do that?"

"I am so very glad you asked, soldier! Let me take you through a little exercise here, because unlike you, I have educational experience with battle intelligence. So, what is one thing we know about Ireland?"

"Um, they are... Irish, sir?"

"^{Oh my God this is going to be impossible.} Ok but what else do we know about the island? Like, politically?"

"Well, there have been a lot of different kingdoms and earldoms..."

"EXACTLY! And what do you say about a kingdom that has died?"

"It has... fallen?"

"CORRECT! And so if kingdoms fall very quickly here..."

"Then other things fall faster too! So we have to adjust for them falling faster!"

"There you go! So you see soldiers, that is why we are adjusting the cannons. So when a measurement for bombardment is cried out, follow that number, and the re-calibration will do the rest of the work!"

"Sir yes sir!"

Meanwhile in the English Castle of Carickfergus

"See Orville, this is the life! No one would *dare attack the English, so having wall duty just means lying back, with a good tankard of ale, and watching the stars."

"Ok Edmund, but if no one would dare attack the English, who are those people?"

Both men peered over the wall, and saw a large party of unidentifiable soldiers making camp outside the wall.

"Um... friendly Scots?"

"Don't be daft, Edmund! Clearly they are Irish, coming to make war for the island! Quickly, go send a runner ship to the King! Tell him we are under attack!"

Orville sped off quickly, gathered some men, and took the fastest ship they had back to England.

"God protect these men..."

The next morning

The camp had been set up well, siege towers erected, and cannons readied for battle. The Scottish camp simply needed a sign to begin the battle... almost literally.

"Sire, we are ready. The castle seems to have a minimal garrison. We can take this easily, just let us attack!"

"Captain, I said not yet. Our attack is a gift from God, and we must wait until the almighty Himself wills us to begin!"

"But sire, how will we know when that happens?"

"Captain, who is the King here?"

"... you are, sire..."

"And who has SELECTED me to be king, based on his omnipotent, omnipresent, holy knowledge?"

"...God has, sire..."

"So then, if God has seen fit to select this to be our battle, and to put me in charge of it, who do you believe is most fit to recognize a heavenly sign when he sees one?"

"... you are, sire..."

"Exactly. So the siege will begin when I say it does, and not a moment sooner. Is this understood?"

"... yes, sire..."

"Good. Then let us feast some more!"

Meanwhile on the English navy ships

"Sir, the Scots are... feasting?"

"God dammit sergeant, what did I tell you about reporting every single boring detail to me?"

"Um, not to do it?"

"CORRECT. So, what was it you were just saying?"

"Oh, just that the Scots are..."

"SERGEANT!"

"Right, right, sorry. I was saying nothing sir."

"Exactly. Now, do you have anything else to say to me? Anything you would like to share?"

"Well actually sir, earlier today I saw the craziest thing. You see, there was this small whale with a horn that jum-"

And with that the captain threw the young sailor off the boat.

"Now, is there any other news that anyone wants to share with me?"

The sailors thought back to the English flag they thought they spotted hanging from the castle, but then thought better of it, and simply shook their heads no.

"Good. Now everyone, prepare to bombard!"

The crew all raced below decks, and prepared to fire the cannons.

"Wait, Henry, did we adjust the cannons like we were supposed to?"

"Shit I dunno Luke, that wasn't my responsibility! Can you tell if we did?"

"No I have no clue."

"Honestly, I don't even *understand the captains logic. It seems stupid to equate falling kingdoms wit-"

"Shut UP John!!"

"But seriously does anyone know if we re-calibrated the cannons?"

The entire cannon floor shook their heads.

"Ok then, lets just adjust them another 20 degrees, just to be safe. Better safe than sorry, right?"

So each ship quickly followed suit, and began their bombardment. Cannons rang out in a constant BOOM of rolling thunder, and cannon balls blocked out the sun as they flew towards their target... and over their target...

"Well shit."

Meanwhile in the English Castle

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!?!?!?!"

Meanwhile in the Scottish Camp

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!?!?!?!" cried out King James IV as a rain of cannon fire fell over the camp. There were explosions, screaming, collapsing siege towers, command tents wrecked, and constant bloodcurdling cries as people were vaporized by cannon fire.

"GOD," screamed the King, "TELL ME! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?! WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!?!?!"

The second he finished his sentence a cannonball ripped through his leg, essentially vaporizing it and severing it at the hip. He collapsed to the ground screaming.

"Why..."

Meanwhile on the English Navy ships

"Sir, it appears as if we are firing on the Scottish Army! The cannonballs are flying right over the castle!"

"That's impossible! We adjusted to make up for the strength of falling objects! Did you buffoons do anything else to change the angle?"

All the sailors shook their heads.

"Well then, get down below decks and lower them by ten degrees! Maybe this side, being so close to England, has a lesser effect than in the interior..."

As the sailors went below decks, they bickered with what to do.

"What if this was our fault Henry? What if we did calibrate them already, and then did it an extra 20 degrees, and that's why it didn't work?

"Luke, that is just stupid. Besides, even if we did, we cant be sure. So we will solve this with the power of math."

"Ok..."

"Right, so look. We may have upped the angle by an extra 20 degrees but we can't be sure."

"Right."

"And the captain wants us to fix our angle by lowering it ten degrees."

"Right."

"Ten is half of the original twenty he wanted us to raise it."

"Ok."

"And the twenty we raised it is double the ten, right?"

"Yes."

"So, what is the inverse of doubling?"

"Um... a half?"

"Good! And what is one half of the original half he wanted us to half the raising by?"

"Um... five...?"

"Very good! But remember, we inverted the double before, so now we have to invert the result to stay constant. And what is the opposite of lowering by five?"

"Raising it by five!"

"There you go Henry!"

"Wow Luke, you should be a mathematitianithic or something!"

"I know, right?"

"Dude, that makes no sense. The captain wanted us to LOWER the angl-"

"Oh my God John if you say ONE MORE WORD I swear to God I will end you."

"Fine, fine, have it your way."

"ALRIGHT MEN, RAISE CANNONS BY FIVE DEGREES!"

And so they did, and they fired again. Once again, the cannon fire seemed to block out the sun.

Meanwhile, in the English Castle

The garrison continued to drink, and this time saluted the cannon fire that they assumed MUST be backup sent for them by the English King at this point. They were doing a fine job at crushing the invaders as well.

Meanwhile in the ruins of the Scottish Camp

King James continued to cry as more cannon fire rained down upon his men. The doctors were doing the best they could, but were finding it difficult to stop the bleeding. Yet he still waited, hoping, praying for a sign.

Then he finally got one.

A cannon ball struck a barrel of tar that was going to be used for fire arrows, causing a large explosion. But the resulting smoke cloud appeared to James as a cross, with Jesus strung upon it as a glorious Scot, urging them forward.

Witnesses claim there was no such apparition, and believe it to have been a figment of James' mind due to blood loss.

Nevertheless, James urged their own cannons to fire at the walls, and while there were not many left, each struck its mark well, and the walls not built for cannon fire quickly crumbled to the artillery. With all his might, James cried out "CHARGE!" and sent the remnants of his army surging forwards.

The ill-prepared garrison succumbed quickly to the much larger Scottish force, and surrendered. A runner was immediately sent to alert the English King of their success.

As they celebrated their victory, they began to chant, causing one captured English soldier to cry out "What the hell? You dolts are Scots?! WE ARE ENGLISH!"

A stunned silence rang out as another volley of cannon fire sailed far overhead. Some say the King died right then and there of shock, others claimed it was the blood loss. Either way, he died there, in the English castle he had just attacked.

Meanwhile in London

The King looked down at the two messages that arrived for him again, confused, angry, and really just confused. The first one was very clear, from his castle in northern Ireland, saying:

HELP!

WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!

SEND BACKUP!

CARICKFERGUS CASTLE WILL FALL!

The second was also very clear:

WE BLOODY DID IT!

CARICKFERGUS CASTLE IS OURS!

LONG LIVE THE SCOTS!

The King sighed, then threw his tankard across the room. This was gonna be one hell of a day.

OUTCOME:

Scottish Losses:

• 300 Light ranged
• 150 heavy Ranged
• 600 Pikemen
• 400 Swordsmen
• 100 Musketeers
• 150 Heavy Cavalry
• 350 Light Cavalry
• 30 Siege Weapons
• His Royal Highness, King James IV of Scotland

English Losses:

• Carickfergus Castle

Irish Losses:

• Ten barrels of whiskey in celebratory drinking