"I can't believe you said it." "You can't say stuff like that!" "He was hot." "He was a hot bouncer." "Niamh, if a hot bouncer found powder laxatives in your bag, what would you have said it was?" "Not Semtex." "It was a joke!" "I don't think Londoners have a sense of humour about terrorism." "Especially when you have a fucking accent like ours." "We're not the terrorists any more." "There's new terrorists now." "Better looking terrorists." "In London now, people don't automatically associate the Irish with terrorism." "We're more likely to be associated with..." "What?" "Louis Walsh." "Right, we need to finish these, then go and blow something up!" "Oh, Jesus, let me die." "Oh, please, Lord, just let me die." "Yes." "Jesus Christ, wise up!" "Where the fuck...?" "We didn't... ..did we?" "What are you doing here?" "I know, I'm going to be late for work." "And it's all your bloody fault." "I mean, how did you get in?" "You invited me, Patrick." "No, I didn't." "Then why did you leave the bathroom window open?" "No." "This isn't happening." "Not again." "It's like we can't keep away from each other." "Why am I tied to the fucking bed?" "You know I don't like it when you swear, Patrick." "Untie me." "I've been thinking about what you said last night." "Steph, look, I know this is no excuse, but I was fucker-faced last night." "I thought I saw a dinosaur on Clapham Common." "So, it doesn't matter what I said." "We can't see each other again." "Ever." "Why?" "It's just not a good idea." "What, with my commitment issues and your... ..mental health issues." "I think you're right." "A little break would do us good." "Really?" "Just the two of us." "We could go back to Rome." "We were never in Rome." "We can talk about this later." "Fan-fucking-tastic!" "Oh, very good!" "So, how was the wedding?" "It was piss." "And you were there, Niamh." "Oh, right." "What did I make of it?" "Not much." "Is it true somebody stole the dress from the bridal suite?" "So I hear." "Mad." "Tea?" "No, I'm all right." "Niamh, listen." "There's a fecking toddler in my bed." "How did a toddler end up in your bed?" "I dunno." "I think I must have stole it last night." "Oh, no, hold on..." "Is he small... and gay?" "Gay?" "!" "Well, not fully-blown gay." "Not yet." "But heading in that direction." "Now that you mention it..." "Oh, that'll just be Frankie." "Who's Frankie?" "The kid I'm minding." "That's a relief, actually, because I thought I'd left him in Tesco." "Why are you minding a kid?" "Because it's my job." "I'm a nanny and nannies mind kids." "You're not a nanny." "I told you about this." "I became a nanny." "You never listen." "You can't just become a nanny overnight!" "You need qualifications, references." "Well, what am I supposed to do?" "Call up his mother and say, "Uh, sorry," ""I lied." "I'm not actually qualified to look after your child"?" "Yeah, that's precisely what you're supposed to do!" "She's paying me £400!" "Right..." "Happy fucking days." "Oh, shit!" "Nope." "Not a fucking baldies." "All right..." "Fuck me!" "That was some night, wasn't it?" "You want to get a Berocca into you, mate." "You look like shite." "Sorry, I'm Conor." "Well, you're quite the little cunt, aren't you?" "Is that dwarf autistic or what's its craic?" "It's a child, Packy." "Although it does have a massive head, in fairness." "Listen, what constitutes rape?" "What do you mean?" "What are the rules?" "Broadly speaking, if you ride someone and they don't want ridden, you've raped them." "You better not have raped me last night, Packy, I'm serious!" "Of course I didn't rape you!" "I didn't rape anybody." "Steph raped me." "You stupid bastard!" "I warned you about leaving that bathroom window open." "But would you listen?" "Now look what's happened - you've gone and got yourself raped." "All right, don't start." "I am sick of you letting strays in." "Having Conor here's bad enough!" "Oh, here we fucking go!" "I want him out today, Packy." "I mean it." "His landlady's kicked him out!" "I don't want him staying here." "It'll be a few weeks at most." "I don't feel comfortable around him." "He's creepy." "Do you not think he's creepy?" "I get a really creepy vibe off him." "He's your brother, Bronagh!" "I'm not living with the fella, OK?" "He's a fucking dickhead." "Who's a fucking dickhead?" "You are, Conor." "You're a fucking dickhead." "Oh, right, grand." "Christ, I am in ribbons!" "Really?" "I don't even have a hangover." "You don't get hangovers." "You haven't been sober since 1998, you giant fucking ballbag!" "Could everybody just not...?" "My head's banging and I've been raped, so..." "Raped, were you?" "All right?" "How's it going?" "Yeah." "No problem." "I'll let them know." "Who's that?" "Dermot." "Oh, absolute fucking ballbag." "That fucking wanker." "Prick." "If there's one prick I cannot stand, it's Dermot." "The fella is an absolute fucking dose." "I mean, the state of him last night!" "Did you see him jumping about the dance floor like a burning spastic?" "I know." "And then parading Ciara in front of me!" "Hands all over her." "As if I'm still bothered." "You are still bothered, though, Packy." "I'm not." "You love Ciara." "I just don't know what she's doing with him!" "Well, he's really good looking." "He's not REALLY good looking." "Well, he is very attractive." "He's not VERY attractive." "But he's still a cock." "I hate the bastard, I really do." "What did he have to say for himself anyway?" "Not much." "He's dead." "Gone, just like that." "His whole life still ahead of him." "It's so awful." "It's tragic!" "He was a cunt." "You said so yourself." "Bronagh, it's sad." "Why's it sad?" "The fella was a ride." "A ride has died." "That's true." "Cunt or not, I'd have still climbed on him, like." "That's beautiful, you should write the eulogy!" "Why are you so bothered?" "You hated him." "Yeah, that was when he was alive." "Now that he's dead, I don't mind him so much." "It's Ciara I feel sorry for." "She'll be grand." "Her life partner's just hit the deck." "Niamh's right, poor Ciara." "Poor sad, lonely, single Ciara." "What do you think you're doing?" "Taking my break." "I'm on MY break." "What, we can't take our breaks at the same time?" "No, we can't!" "That means there's no-one behind the fecking bar!" "It's under control." "There's a system in place." "Can I have one of those, mate?" "Seriously, what's this prick's problem?" "!" "Ignore him, he's twatted." "Christ, here it comes." "We're on a break, James." "Just pour your own there." "That's the system, is it?" "Brilliant!" "Um, yeah." "OK, I'll..." "Yup." "Would you ever just cut the poor bastard loose, for God's sake?" "I have no intention of cutting him loose." "I really like him." "You don't think he's a bit...?" "What?" "Englishy." "Well, he is English." "He's overly English, though." "What the fuck does that even mean?" "He says "fun"." "And "literally"." "He does not." "What is the craic with their inability to form a sentence without using "literally"?" "!" "That is such balls..." "Hiya." "How did you know I'd be here?" "I didn't really." "I just..." "Well, I took an early lunch, and I thought I'd just pop in on the off-chance that you're, um, here." "And you are." "Riveting!" "I had so much fun at the wedding." "I mean, I, literally, just had THE best time." "Didn't you guys?" "OK, on that note, I need to go." "Where?" "I need a bit of air." "My head feels like someone's shat in it." "Try not to mount her just yet." "Who?" "Ciara." "I'm going for a walk!" "I'm not going to..." "You think I'm going to try to crack onto Ciara?" "Now, that's disgusting, Bronagh." "You're disgusting to think it and I am disgusted to hear it." "Disgusted." "It's OK, Ciara." "Just let it all out." "I still can't believe it, it doesn't feel real." "I know." "I'll never forget finding him like that." "When we got home, I went into the bathroom." "I changed into this..." "It doesn't matter." "I don't know why I'm telling you this." "No, really, Ciara, it's important for you to talk about it." "So, you changed into...?" "It's silly." "He bought me some lingerie." "I wanted to surprise him." "But he never even got to see it." "Because when I walked into the bedroom, he'd already..." "It's OK." "So, what colour was this...?" "I just can't believe he's gone!" "I know exactly how you feel." "I felt the same way when my sister died." "I didn't even know you had a sister." "Yeah." "In many ways, neither did I." "See, I know what it's like to lose someone you love." "To realise that you'll never see that person again." "That you'll never speak to them again." "Never touch them." "That they'll never touch you." "That they'll never hold you again." "Never kiss you again..." "Was she like a foster sister?" "What I'm trying to say is, if you ever need someone to talk to," "I'm here, OK?" "You're so lovely." "I know." "James keeps looking at me funny." "Everybody looks at you funny." "We're probably going to have to go to this wake." "I would rather fuck my own Da!" "I don't do wakes any more." "Corpses freak me out, ever since Black Peter's funeral." "What happened at Black Peter's funeral?" "He winked at me." "Can we stop calling him Black Peter, please?" "It's fucking racist!" "How am I racist?" "I love black people." "All black people are sound." ""All black people are sound"?" "Really?" "!" "Er..." "Obama, sound." "Oprah Winfrey, sound." "Moira Stewart, sound." "Peter Andre..." "No, Niamh, not Peter Andre." "Oh, Christ!" "Guess who's back?" "Oh, please, not this fucking bomb scare." "Hey, guys!" "So, I suppose you've heard the good news?" "I take it Patrick told you we're back together?" "Well, he said you raped him." "Yeah, we're both really happy." "It just feels right, you know?" "I'm on my lunch, so I can't stay long." "Oh, no..." "Is Patrick inside?" "He's gone out." "And now I have to go away... ..also." "You know what we need?" "A good old-fashioned girlie night out." "We've never had the chance to bond!" "I want us to bond." "I want that." "I do, I really do." "You frighten us." "So, when?" "When, when, when?" "I need to check my diary." "You don't have a diary." "Focus, Niamh." "What about tonight?" "We can't tonight." "We have to go to a wake." "Whose wake?" "A man." "A dead man." "A friend." "A dead man friend." "If it's a friend of Patrick's, I really should pay my respects, too." "I mean, I am his girlfriend." "Except you're not, though, are you?" "I'd better run." "Wappo!" "Is there anything else, mate?" "Look, I know it's difficult, but you have to tell Bronagh." "And I'm sorry, but if you don't, I will." "All right." "Grand." "I'll tell her... about that thing." "She's going to find out sooner or later anyway." "It's unavoidable." "Literally." "And you've no idea what James was talking about?" "Not a fucking notion, mate." "How bad did it sound?" "Bad enough." "Yeah, she's never letting you move in." "I don't fancy your chances with Ciara much." "Why?" "He's a very good looking lad." "Aye, but he's also in the early stages of decomposition, so I think I might have the edge." "Right, so you need to find Ciara... and you tell her how sorry you are, blah-blah-blah, then say nice things about me." "Right..." "like what?" "You know, just highlight my good qualities." "Oh, right..." "Like the ambidextrous thing?" "You are beyond useless, you know that?" "I think he's still breathing." "Look at his chest..." "Look." "Jesus, Conor, I've told you before, a dead body's like a magic eye - if you stare at one long enough, it'll probably start doing fucking cartwheels." "You really didn't have to come, James." "It's totally fine." "Honestly." "I've never actually been to a wake before." "This one isn't that great." "I'll take you to a good one next time." "Where's Frankie?" "I dunno, maybe he went out for a smoke." "Have you... seen Conor?" "Yes, he's just in the other room, so he is." "I'm just going to, literally, pop my head in and say hello." "You, literally, do that." "Conor..." "Oh, listen, I haven't told Bronagh yet... but I will." "I swear I will." "I just need to know exactly what I'm going to tell her... exactly." "I beg your pardon?" "What did I do?" "Look, Conor, this is the worst part, I know." "But once this part's over, we'll be in the next part - the better part, the good part." "Do you understand what I'm saying?" "Not really." "I just want to be honest." "About us." "Us?" "Us." "Oh, fuck!" "Oh, there you are." "I just needed a minute." "Oh, I'll go." "No, stay... please." "So... you having a good night?" "Sorry." "Jesus Christ!" "I didn't..." "Shit..." "It's OK." "You kept that quiet, didn't you?" "What?" "Congratulations." "Your fiancee, she's so lovely." "My fiancee?" "Brilliant!" "It was his grandmother's." "She died in the potato famine." "So tragic." "A bit like this, really." "I thought maybe we should postpone the wedding, but Patrick was having none of it." ""Dermot wouldn't have wanted that", he said." ""Dermot would have wanted us to be happy"." "Patrick's so thoughtful." "Always considering what other people want." "Even the dead ones!" "Look, Frankie..." "He's dead!" "Feel how cold he is." "Go on." "You can't please that child." "It is a pity all the same." "I definitely would, like." "I'll give you a tenner if you snog him." "He's dead, don't be sick." "Go on!" "That's so disrespectful, Bronagh." "20 quid?" "20 quid?" "And all I have to do is lob the gob?" "Yeah." "Here." "Hold this." "For 30 seconds." "You can't add in rules!" "If I'm forking out 20 quid, I want a bit of a floor show." "There you are." "We need to leave." "Steph's here and she's so spectacularly mental." "Ah, right." "So, listen, last night..." "Yeah?" "Apparently, James blew me!" "James blew you?" "You let James, your sister's boyfriend, blow you?" "Yeah." "But he says "fun"." "Yes, he does." "He said it several times, while..." "She is going to cut your balls clean off." "Why did you let him do that?" "You know how it is when you're steaming." "I've spent the last 14 years of my life steaming, but I'm yet to let another man put his mouth around my lad." "What am I going to do?" "Are you gay now?" "Why would you say that?" "!" "If that's who you are, I respect that." "I mean, obviously I couldn't be friends with you any more." "I'm not gay!" "So tell him that." "Oh, but I feel bad." "He's such a nice fella." "Did he buy you them?" "He says he loves me." "Aye, it might be all flowers and fucking blow jobs now, but sooner or later you're going to have to take it up the hole, Conor." "Your choice." "Eight." "Nine." "Ten." "Eleven." "12.." "Jesus Christ!" "We're so sorry for your loss." "Why would you do that?" "Why would anybody do that?" "Ciara, it's not what it looks like..." "It looks like you were sexually assaulting my boyfriend's corpse!" "In fairness Bronagh, it does look like we were sexually assaulting her boyfriend's corpse." "No, no, because she never actually ventured down there." "It was all from the neck up." "It was just a bit of innocent neck-up fun." "You said "fun"." "I want yous out of here." "Now!" "I'm serious!" "What's going on?" "Bronagh said "fun"." "Oh, Jesus!" "Look, all right..." "It's not a big deal." "I've just been explaining to James here that, umm... ..I'm not gay." "And to, sort of, thank him for keeping quiet about a previous accidental homosexual encounter..." "..I agreed to ride him." "Ah... no, sorry." "Crossed wires." "I was actually the one going to be doing the, um... the riding." "Look, no-one's going to be riding anybody until I deal with this." "You see, it won't be happening again." "So there's no need to tell Bronagh." "Frankie!" "Frankie... wait!" "You are both disgusting!" "Oh, Ciara, that's a bit much." "I couldn't even stick the tongue in, his lips are fucking sewn together." "Were they, aye?" "Jesus, lads." "I don't believe this." "I can't deal with this!" "All right, everybody, let's just calm down." "Let's talk about this reasonably." "Please Frankie, don't say anything!" "Help!" "It's our secret." "I'll buy you sweets!" "Shitloads of... ..sweets." "Fudge." "Fuck." "No." "All right, then." "Niamh, Bronagh, step away from the corpse, please." "Conor, could you just stick your cock back in for us, that's a good man." "I'll grab our coats and we'll be on our way." "Not you." "You're mental." "If you ever do fancy coffee or a drink, you..." "Well, you have my number." "It's been lovely." "Well, not lovely" " Dermot's dead and stuff, but... a great buffet!" "So, you know, every cloud..." "All right." "Bye-bye, then." "So, Ciara thinks I'm engaged to that psychopath, and that I'm best friends with two necrophiliacs and a paedo." "I know what you were really doing in that bathroom." "What?" "You were in that toilet pulling the middle out of yourself." "Admit it!" "You were wanking at a wake!" "Yes!" "I was." "I was wanking at a wake!" "That's what I was doing, exactly." "You dirty, filthy bastard." "At least I'm not actually a paedophile." "That's something, isn't it?" "Do they have less paedophiles over here?" "What?" "It's just an observation." "Maybe I'm wrong, but we seem to have more of a paedo vibe in Ireland." "Definitely, Ireland's always had a very rich paedo culture." "Sorry, are you actually saying these words?" "We're not as strong on the serial killing, though." "The English win hands-down on that." "Do we even have serial killers?" "I don't think so." "None of the good ones, anyway." "Ah, well, you can't have everything." "Where are you going?" "Time to call it a night, I think." "You haven't finished your drink!" "It's just been such a mental day." "Mate, you haven't finished your drink!" "I'm tired!" "Packy, your drink!" "I don't care about my drink!" "I'm going home, OK?" "!" "Fucked in!" "That's not even funny." "Right." "Let's get fucking wallpapered!"