ANNOUNCER: Ladies and gentlemen,
welcome to the Olympia Theatre.
We hope you enjoy your evening.
Thank you.
AGNES: One, two, one, two, one, two. Testicles, one two.
Good evening, everybody.
ALL: Good evening.
AGNES: Good evening, everybody!
ALL: (LOUDER) Good evening!
You're all very welcome to the beautiful Olympia Theatre.
And the BAFTA-nominated Mrs Brown's Boys.
There must be fuck-all on the telly.
While you're sitting comfortable, please take note of the fire exits.
In the very unlikely event of a fire, here are the steps you should take.
Big fucking steps out them doors.
In the event of a fire, you will hear the following sound.
Oh, fuck, it's a fire!
Please follow the instructions of the nearest gentlemen to you,
in case we have to ejaculate the building.
You will notice around the theatre that there are some cameras.
That is because tonight we are putting this on tape for history.
AUDIENCE: Whoo!
But I have to warn you in advance that there will be some shots of the audience,
but none of the ugly fuckers.
And, of course, your chances increase of being in the DVD, uh,
at the end of this show, if there happens to be a standing ovation.
Now, just sit back, relax, fasten your seat belts,
and enjoy the show!
No, no, excuse me. Excuse me!
Now, l ordered a chest of drawers,
and your driver delivered a fecking wardrobe.
A wardrobe!
l know a fuckin' wardrobe when l see one.
Thursday.
l bought it on Thursday. Thursday just gone.
-Receipt. -l have a receipt.
l can give you the number off the receipt.
-Service. -What kind of...
Winnie, will you shut the fuck up?
No, no, not you, love.
Winnie, put the kettle on.
Yes.
That's right.
No... Don't put me on hold!
You bastard.
Here, Agnes?
What, Winnie?
l really enjoyed them few drinks at Foley's last night.
Well, you had enough of them.
l tell you, one more vodka and l'd have been under that table.
One more pint of cider, l'd have been under that fuckin' barman. (CHUCKLES)
Ah, you wouldn't, would ya?
l wouldn't what, Winnie?
Well, give that barman a goosha.
Will you fuck off?
No, no, not you, love. l'm on hold. l'm sorry.
Jesus, Winnie, will you stop? l haven't had sex in years.
l can't even remember who it is that gets tied up.
Cathy? Cathy, love?
There's someone at the door. Get it, will you, please?
CATHY: Ah, Mammy. l'm doin' me make-up.
But l'm on hold on the phone.
Mammy, the phone is portable.
And l'm not fuckin' portable!
Now, get the door.
Oh, Jesus.
How's it goin'? (LAUGHS)
Well, the prisons must be fuckin' closed.
Jesus, Cathy. What happened to you?
Shut up, Buster Brady. l'm getting ready for a date.
-A date? -Yes, Buster.
A boy and a girl going out together. Something you'd know nothin' about.
Yeah, well, l might've had only one girlfriend,
but at least she had eyebrows.
Oh, get stuffed, you!
Don't mind him, love. You don't mind him.
Hello, Mrs Brown.
Go away, Buster. l'm on hold.
ls there anything l can do to help?
D'you have a chest of drawers on you?
No, boxer shorts.
Buster, read my lips.
Fuck off.
Oh, fuck...
He's put me on hold.
You can sit down!
l don't want to sit down!
-Ah, suit yourself! -l'm... l'm on the phone...
Oh, don't you worry, l will!
Like you always do!
Had a good teacher!
Talk to the hand, 'cause the face ain't listenin'!
Do l live in the fuckin' Jeremy Kyle Show?
Sit down, son.
Ah, yes. Brown.
Brown.
Brow-wa-na.
Oh, l'm sorry. Agnes.
No, l don't want to buy a feckin' wardrobe... Listen,
my name is Agnes Brown. l live in 92, James Larkin Court.
You'll recognise the house.
lt'll be the one with the fuckin' chopped-up wardrobe in the garden.
Bastard hung up.
Bastard.
That's a lovely wardrobe in the hallway, Mrs Brown.
Buster, one more word out of you and l'll nail your left foot to the floor
and you'll spend the day walking round in a fuckin' circle.
Oh, now please, boys, calm down, will you?
That one's mine. And that one! And that one!
And there should be another one with that one,
it's a double album! Where is it?
l ate it!
Bastard!
Are you two fighting?
Rory Brown.
What did you do to your hair?
Dino dyed it blond.
He said l'd look like Marilyn Monroe.
Fucking dead or alive?
Rory? Rory, don't be so feckin' sensitive, will you? For God's sake...
And where are you sneakin' off to?
Well, l... l was just gonna pop next door and get some more wool, Agnes.
Yeah. Get some steel wool.
-Why? -You might knit yourself a fuckin' kettle.
Ah, feck off.
Ah, Betty, love. How are you?
Ah, hello, Winnie. Hello, Buster.
How are you, Betty?
-Hello, Betty, love. -Hello, Mrs Brown.
-How's me favourite daughter-in-law? -l'm good.
What's the bag for?
l'm just going to Donegal for the weekend.
Oh, you don't want to go to Donegal, love. That's full of sheep-shaggers and hillbillies.
You going over to visit your parents?
Yeah.
You wouldn't pop in to see Mark and Bono while l'm gone?
l'll look after them. Don't you be worried.
And l'll make sure they get their dinner and all.
Thanks, Mrs Brown.
Grandad again. That man thinks l'm on a fuckin' bungee rope.
What do you want, Grandad?
GRANDAD: l don't feel well.
You're 82. You're not supposed to fuckin' feel well.
What's wrong with Grandad?
His friend George Mumford died.
Oh, poor Grandad. He must be upset.
Well, he's at that age, love. One of his friends dies, he's sure he's going to be next.
With a bit of fuckin' luck!
Well, l'm off. Would you do that for me?
-l'll look after 'em. Don't you be worried. -Thanks, Mrs Brown.
You just have a nice weekend.
-l'll see you, love. -All right, see you.
-Oh, and give me best to your father. -l will.
lf you can get him off the fuckin' sheep.
So,
l see Rory's still gay, then.
Buster, one more word out of you and l will shove your teeth so far down your throat,
you'll have to stick your toothbrush up your arse to clean them.
Not a word. Nothing. Not a word. Zip. Zip, lock, throw away the key.
Do you want a cup of tea?
Do you...
want tea?
Gobshite!
Mammy?
What, Cathy?
What's wrong with Rory?
l wouldn't know where to fuckin' start.
Do you want a cup of tea, love?
Oh, no, Mammy. Sure, l'm running late.
Well, don't break your neck. He'll be late as well.
(LAUGHS) Did Daddy always come late?
That is none of your fuckin' business!
Jesus, Cathy.
You look gorgeous.
Aw, thanks, Buster.
Plastic surgery?
-Go and shite, Buster. -(SNIGGERS)
What're you doing here anyway?
Oh, just popped around to see Dermot.
Yeah, well, he won't be back for ages.
l'll just wait.
-New boyfriend, is it? -Yup.
And l like him.
(SlGHS) Jesus Christ.
Cathy, is that your grandad banging down again?
Yes, Mammy.
l wonder, could we get him a job as a fuckin' drummer?
What do you want now, Grandad?
GRANDAD: l think l'm dying.
Well, call me when you're fuckin' sure.
l'm off. l'll see you later, Mammy.
l'll see you, Cathy.
-Cathy, love? -Yeah?
-You look fantastic. -Aw, thanks, Mammy.
-Have a good night. -l will.
-Keep them on. -(LAUGHS)
Buster, we haven't seen you since Dermot's wedding.
l hope this is not you droppin' back in hoping that he'll go back to a life of crime,
because it won't happen.
Dermot's a changed man since he married Maria.
And l won't stand by and watch him go down the tubes
because of a guttersnipe like you.
Oh, no, Mrs Brown.
l just popped around to say hello, that's all.
Well, you've said it. Now shag off.
l mean it, Buster.
Every time your name comes up, Maria gets upset.
And l don't want her upset.
She walks in that door and sees you sitting there,
she'll go through the feckin' roof.
Oh, shite.
Hello, Maria, love. Hello, love.
Hello, Mrs Brown.
How are you, Maria?
Are you pregnant, Maria?
No, Buster, it's a cyst.
-A cyst? -Yes. A big lump of useless fatty tissue.
Oh, yeah. My ma had one of them.
She certainly fuckin' did.
Maria, love, would you like a cup of tea?
Oh, l'd love one. And a biscuit or something.
-And a biscuit. -Thanks, Mrs Brown.
Maria, wish you'd stop calling me Mrs Brown. lt's Agnes.
l'll have a biscuit, Agnes.
lt's Mrs Brown to you!
And ask properly!
Sorry.
-May l have a biscuit, please, Mrs Brown? -That's better.
-Thanks. -No.
So, how is married life, then?
None of your business.
lt's hard to believe it's been a year already, what? (CHUCKLES)
Year and a half.
Are you annoyed at me?
You're still upset about that little thing at your wedding.
Little thing? You stole my mother's handbag.
l made a mistake, that's all.
(SCOFFS) What, you mean you robbed it by accident?
Well, no. l didn't know it was hers.
She got it back.
Yeah. Empty.
Well, l didn't touch anything in it.
Buster, the police searched you.
That was my money they found.
-Oh, was it? -Yeah.
And the lipstick?
Oh, yeah.
Here, chicken. Cup of tea.
-Thanks, Mrs Brown. -You're welcome.
l'd better go up and see what this old shite wants.
Maria, love, l'm just upstairs. lf you need me, just call.
l'll be down like a fuckin' bullet.
You just missed Rory.
And his friend, David Bowie.
You know,
it was always the same in this house.
You never know who'd walk in that door.
Sweet Jesus!
Buster!
(LAUGHS) Dermo!
Jesus, how are you?
What are you doing dressed as a giant chicken?
Me new job. Promotions.
This one is for Easter. l'm handing out little chocolate eggs.
Yeah. Sounds great.
lt is. And he loves it.
Why, don't you, Dermot?
Yeah. lt's great. (FORCED CHUCKLE)
So, what're you doing here anyway?
Oh... Uh... Just popped around for a little chat.
Well, l have to go up and get changed, so come on upstairs. We can chat up there.
Yeah, sure.
Dermot, just... Well, l wanted to have a chat with you.
Well, Buster'll be gone in a few minutes.
Yeah, sure.
So, come here. ls that free-range chicken or what?
-Hey, Ma. -Hello, son.
Everything up there is fuckin' counted.
-(BONE CRUNCHES) -Ow!
Grandad wanted to brush his teeth.
Can't fuckin' find 'em.
You're not really dealing with that, are you, love?
-No. -l didn't think so.
l'm sorry, Mrs Brown.
lt's all right, love. Did you see the baby on the cover?
Look. (LAUGHS)
Look it. lsn't he gorgeous?
-Yeah. -Hello!
He's gorgeous. And your baby'll be gorgeous, you wait and see.
All babies are gorgeous.
l think God does that on purpose. To stop us eating the fuckin' things.
Are you all right, Maria?
l'm fine. Thanks, Mrs Brown.
Are you still upset about last night?
Last night?
l heard you and Dermot arguing.
l wasn't listening on purpose, love. Just...
lt was so warm, l slept out on the landing.
l worry about you, that's all. l just worry about you.
(SIGHS) Look, we have to get our own place.
But Dermot, he won't even come and look at a house with me, and...
Well, we can't stay here forever.
Well, you're more than welcome to stay here.
l know that, Mrs Brown.
Really, l do. lt's just...
A place of our own.
l know.
lt's cramped enough here for you as it is.
What will it be like with a baby?
Babies.
What?
Well, l have to have a scan on Thursday.
Another scan? For what?
Well, Dr Gibley thinks that it might be twins.
-Fuckin' twins! -Shh!
Shh!
Oh, Mrs Brown, please don't say anything else.
Not a fuckin' word.
-Well, not till l'm sure. -Not at all.
You see, l haven't told anyone else yet except you.
You've told nobody?
Except you.
l have to go down to the shops.
Would you like me to walk down with you?
Do you know what? l would.
Come on. l can show you off.
(CHUCKLES) We can waddle together like two ducks.
-Quack, quack. -(LAUGHS)
l'm going as quack as l can.
-Twins, just like me. -Yeah.
Double trouble, love, but worth every bit of it.
l had an aunty that had triplets.
-Did you? -Yes.
God love 'em. She called them Matt, Pat and Tat.
There was no tit for Tat.
Dermot, l'm just going down the shops with your mother.
DERMOT: Right. Get us a paper, will ya?
And here, you, keep an eye on that little fecker.
lf he has to steal something, let him take fuckin' Grandad.
l'm telling you, Dermo, it's foolproof.
The house is full of stuff and there's nobody there.
-Nobody? -Nobody.
The Garibaldi family.
They own a circus.
And they pack up every winter and go away till Easter.
Circus people, Dermo.
You know what they're like for the jewellery.
And they have a warehouse. And l bet you that's full of stuff as well.
No, Buster.
l promised Maria l'd never burgle a house again.
Fair enough. We'll just do the warehouse.
Oh, come on, Dermo. Just take a look at it.
All right. l'll take a look.
Now, no promises, Buster. Just a look.
Great. Tomorrow night?
-Right. Tomorrow night. -Oh, just like the old days, Dermot.
You, the expert breaker, and me...
the genius planner. (LAUGHS)
Silent and invisible.
Like a shadow. (CHUCKLES)
l'll see you, Dermo.
Breathe in for me, Grandad.
-And out. -(EXHALES)
-And again. -(INHALES DEEPLY)
Twice. Now, that will fuckin' kill him.
lt's a sharp pain across the back and down the spine.
Oh, dear. Tell me, how long has he had it?
Not him. Me!
Mrs Brown, l'm here to examine Grandad.
You're wasting your time with him. He's fucked.
-Am l dyin'? -Yes. Friday.
What did he say?
He wants to know if he's dying.
Mrs Brown, please.
l tell him that every week.
He'll just be delighted on fuckin' Saturday.
So what is it? What's wrong with him?
Well, l need to run some tests.
Tests? More feckin' money.
What'd she say?
She's going to run some tests.
Yes, l need a sample of his urine and a sample of his stool.
What's she sayin'?
She wants your underpants!
You know, on second thoughts, Mrs Brown,
l think l'll admit him to hospital. We can do it all there.
l think that's a much better idea.
What'd she say?
-You're going to hospital! -Oh.
And you're not coming fuckin' back.
Grandad, l need to take your temperature now.
So open up for me, please.
Oh, good man.
Grandad, l need you to close your mouth when l put it in.
He's never heard that before.
l'm afraid this isn't working, Grandad.
Mrs Brown, l'm sorry, but l will have to do a rectal reading.
Could you help me, please?
With fuckin' pleasure.
Grandad!
Come on, we have a surprise for you.
-Here. -Open your kecks for the doctor.
-Yes. -Yeah. Now...
Now... Look at that, see that? Look at that. Now, look...
(EXCLAIMS) Oh!
Would you like a cup of tea, Doctor?
Well, l'd rather have another one of these, if you don't mind.
-lt's in the kitchen. -Okay.
l'll get you a cup of tea, Grandad.
l wish you could see it from this side.
You look like a big fuckin' toffee apple.
-Take this. -Thank you.
Nothin' on the television, Grandad?
-(GROANS) -Grandad!
What are you doing there in that state? Will you fix yourself? Come here.
Now, Grandad. There you go.
Now, come on. Sit down.
-No, no, no... -Sit down, Grandad.
No, no... (SCREAMS)
Come on.
Now, Grandad,
isn't that much better?
-Dr Flynn? -Yeah?
Grandad is supposed to go to his friend's funeral on Thursday.
My Rory's going to take him. Will he be all right for that?
He'll be fine, Mrs Brown. You know, he's only going to be in overnight.
-Oh. -Besides,
l'll hardly get him a bed for at least three weeks, believe me.
-Three feckin' weeks? -Yeah.
-l'm off, Mammy. -All right, see you, love.
-How're you, Dr Flynn? -Well, hello, Cathy.
Or should l say, Dr Cathy.
Oh, not yet. But soon. l'll see you.
-See you, love. -She's a lovely girl.
She's doing marvellous. She's going to be a great psycholologist.
-Oh, Father Quinn, come in. -Thank you.
God bless all in this house.
Yeah, uh... Mammy, Father Quinn is here.
(SOFTLY) Oh, not that fuckin' eejit.
Lovely. l'll be in in a minute.
Make yourself comfortable, Father. Mum will be out, you know, in a minute.
l have to fly. l have a couple coming in for marriage-guidance counselling.
Oh, doing God's work, eh?
-Yeah. See ya. -Yeah.
Bless you, my child. (CHUCKLES)
Well, Grandad Brown. How are we today?
There's something up me arse!
Yes, right... (CHUCKLES) Tell Mrs Brown l'll be back shortly.
Hello, Father... Father Quinn? He's gone.
Grandad! What are you doing?
Mrs Brown, please.
Fuck. Stand up, Grandad. Now we're going to play treasure hunt.
-Now, you need to bend over more for this. -Relax, Grandad.
-No, bend... No, feckin' bend over. -(EXCLAIMS)
-Ah! -Oh!
No, l'm sorry, it's gone, Mrs Brown.
Gone? l'm not fuckin' paying for that.
Wait... Wait a minute... Gone... Gone?
ls that dangerous? ls he going to be all right?
Mrs Brown, he'll be fine. Uh, what l need to do now is...
l'll admit you to hospital tonight, Grandad.
We'll explore the cavity then, eh?
-Explore the cavity? -Yes.
She's goin' potholin'.
l must remember that in future, Doctor.
Oh, remember what, Mrs Brown?
The next time l'm told it'll be three weeks for a hospital bed,
l'll get you to take me temperature.
l'll be off. l'm finished here.
Yeah, the bottle's empty.
Please, don't fret. l'll have him in before tea time tonight.
-Bye-bye, Mrs Brown! -Bye-bye, Doctor!
Now, Grandad, you heard of Doctor Dolittle.
There goes Doctor Do Fuck-all!
Shut up, Grandad. lt's a thermometer, not a submarine.
Now what does she want?
You've nothing else up there belonging to her, have you?
Oh, he comes, he goes, the Scarlet Pimpernel. Come in, Father.
Ah, thank you.
Feckin' ice cream vans, this hour of the day!
You'll have a cup of tea, Father?
Oh, tea? No, thank you, Mrs Brown.
Perhaps you'd like to join me.
l certainly would not. Father Quinn, what're you doing drinking during the day?
-Are you all right, Father? -No, Mrs Brown, l'm not all right.
l'm losing the battle.
Well, you're about to lose your fuckin' arm if you don't...
l'm sorry, Mrs Brown, but...
lf things keep going the way they are, l won't have a flock.
l don't think you're supposed to, Father. l think it's against the rules.
Mrs Brown, have they called here yet?
Have who called?
Missionaries. Missionaries from the Church of the Latter-day Saints.
-Nobody's called... -They're all over the place, Mrs Brown.
Father, you are that close to getting a slap.
You know, they've converted four families in the last six months.
Father, look. These missionaries, do they believe in God?
-Yes. -Well, then, what's the problem?
lf we're all in the same bus, who gives a shite who the driver is?
l give a shite, Mrs Brown!
Father, you watch your fuckin' language in front of Grandad.
Me mother was right.
Why? What'd she say?
That l wasn't cut out to be a priest.
-Oh, now, now... -l'm too weak.
l'm a failure!
l suppose she has a point, really...
-God knows, l've tried. -Well, good man, you've tried.
-l've supported the dispirited. -Up the dispirited.
-Resisted temptation! -(MUTTERS)
Walked in the footsteps of the Almighty Lord!
Jeez! You must be exhausted.
Wept in anguish for the hopeless. And prayed for the sick.
Oh, give me a sign, l ask. Please!
The lamp shade?
Just give me a sign!
Grandad, you frightened the shite out of me.
Mrs Brown! lt's a sign!
Father, what would your sign be doing up his arse?
Girls, are you sure you don't want tea?
Uh, no, Mammy, l'm grand, thanks.
No, thanks, Mrs Brown.
No, l'm fine.
Would you have a drop of cocoa, Agnes, love?
Hang on, Winnie. l'll get you a fuckin' menu.
Jesus, l'm only askin'.
Well, l'm only telling.
lt's have a cup of tea or take a hike.
My name is Brown, not fuckin' Starbuck.
lsn't it marvellous, with Grandad gone off to that funeral, to have a night's feckin' peace?
-A girly night, Agnes. -A girly night.
So, Cathy, come on and tell us.
How did you meet him?
Ah, the new boyfriend, Agnes.
Aye, how did you meet him?
Do we have to talk about this shite?
Well, l was working down in the rehab clinic,
and he just came up and asked me did l wanna go out for a drink?
Oh, yeah, go for a drink.
That's man talk for ''What colour's your knickers?''
You may laugh, but l'm telling ya. Men, preverts.
They're all looking for the one thing, and they don't need a compass.
Will you stop it, Mammy? He just wants to go out and have a talk.
Yes, a talk - talk about doing it!
We used to call that oral sex. Remember, Winnie?
We did, Agnes.
That's not oral sex, Mrs Brown.
-ls it not, Betty? -No.
What is, then?
-lt doesn't matter. -(GIRLS LAUGHING)
lt does if you're fucking looking for it.
Well, anyway...
So, Cathy, is he handsome?
Oh, yeah, in a real rugged kind of way.
And, girls, he is such a gentleman.
Oh, lovely.
Oh, yeah, gentlemen, yeah. They're the ones you have to fecking watch.
-Yeah, takes your coat off you? -Yeah.
-Pulls your chair when you go sit down? -Yeah.
-Opens the door for you? -Yeah.
-BOTH: Dirty bastard.
That's all put on.
He just wants to play ''hide the sausage''.
Will you stop, Mammy?
Not all men are sex maniacs.
Yes, they are. News flash. Yes, they are.
Only last year, when me and Winnie went to that film... The sword thing...
-Radiator. -Gladiator.
Gladiator!
-Yeah. -There we were, two women on our own...
-Now, we looked well. -Ah, we did.
We looked well, but that's no excuse.
That is no excuse.
-We just wanted to see a film. -WINNIE: (SOFTLY) Yeah.
We went in that picture house...
What is it now, five minutes? Five minutes.
l couldn't even say...
Tell them.
-This fella... -This fella came over.
-And sat right down beside Winnie. -Beside me.
Right beside her. Lots of seats and he sat beside Winnie.
BOTH: The dirty bastard.
Five minutes later, she's licking her lollypop...
He has his willie out!
-Oh! -l don't believe you.
-Oh, my God. -And he's playing with it!
Masturbating in the pictures.
Poor Winnie was disgusted.
-l was disgusted. -Disgusted.
Well, why didn't you move?
We couldn't move. He was using Winnie's hand.
Not true! Agnes Brown!
l'm only jokin'!
-l'm only feckin' joking. -(ALL CONTINUE LAUGHING)
Geez, you put one of them in Winnie's hands, she'd knit you a chunky jumper.
Ah, no, Cathy.
ln fairness, l think it's marvellous to see you getting a man at all.
And what's that supposed to mean?
Well, don't be taking it personal, for God's sake.
Many's the girl who has a couple of drinks and gets a ginky eye, gets a man.
l'm not saying that.
l'm just saying, nowadays,
in the modern day, any woman will tell you,
any woman will, it's very hard to get a man.
To get a decent man, now, l mean a decent feckin' man.
Vibrators.
l beg your pardon, Winnie?
Nowadays, that's what the women do, get them vibrators.
(SIGHS) You shut the fuck up now, Winnie.
Honest, Agnes, they do.
l think l might get one meself.
Well, make sure to get one that takes diesel.
Can you imagine her with a vibrator?
''Winnie, are you coming to bingo on the bus?'' ''No...''
Oh, Winnie, l give you a week,
you won't have a fucking cloot left in your head.
Stop it.
-Anyway, she'd probably break it. -Yeah.
She's no good with gadgets.
Every gadget she gets, she breaks.
She's the only one on that road that has Sky Minus.
-Here... -Yeah?
Do you remember the time you got the coil in?
-Agnes, don't tell them that. -(LAUGHS)
Wait till l tell you...
She'd come back from the clinic,
l'm making her a cup of tea and she walked past me, all l heard was...
She was picking up the BBC in her knickers!
Every time she crossed her legs, the fucking telly changed channels.
Oh, Winnie...
Will you shut up that fucking dirty talk?
Oh.
Cathy, l'm serious, love.
-l'm delighted to see you with a man now. -Yeah.
And you can see it in you.
Oh, yeah, you've a glow of romance about you.
-An aura. -Yeah, lovely smell, yeah.
And, l tell you now, love, you deserve it.
You feckin' deserve it, you do. You deserve it.
Aw, thanks, Mammy.
Yeah, you do, Cathy. lt's lovely.
You know, Dermot can be a real romantic at times.
Well, it's in the genes, isn't it? You know, it's in his PMA.
(VOICE BREAKlNG) Yeah, well...
Not lately, though.
Ah, stop it, Maria.
Yeah, Maria, don't be bringing yourself down.
Betty's right, love. Don't be doing that to yourself.
Maria, that's marriage. Ups and downs.
-lns and outs. -lns and... Will you shut the fuck up?
-Are you in heat or something? -Agnes!
Maria, love, marriage isn't easy, it's tough.
lt's a rocky road you have to walk together, but l tell you now,
if you take each other firmly by the hand and walk it together and keep talking,
l promise, love, it all works out the way it's supposed to. lt always does.
Oh, here's Eminem.
Hello, son.
How are you?
Now, wouldn't that brighten up your whole fucking day?
Well, Maria, at least you're not like them two, splitting up the CDs.
-l don't know what's going on there. -Why?
-They're still not talking. -Oh, Agnes.
l know, and they're friends for years. Since the Guides.
Well, Cathy,
why don't you get the two of them together and give them a counselling session?
Get them talking, at least.
-Jesus, Maria, that's not a bad idea. -Yeah.
Now, hold on a second, now. Before you go counselling everybody,
why don't we just get Rory in here and ask him what the problem is?
-Ah, no. He might not be comfortable. -Of course he will.
As long as we're sensitive.
Rory!
Rory, love. Come in, son.
Are you all right?
Are you a bit down, love?
Just a bit, Mammy, just a bit.
l haven't seen you this down
since you stripped off and yer man offered you the job in Hooters.
-(SNORTS) -Oh.
He's upset now.
lt's okay, love, it's okay.
Rory, love.
Keep that smile, 'cause l want to talk to you.
Rory, love,
l know, in the past, l've had trouble coming to terms with your illness.
Mammy!
-What? -lt's not an illness.
Well, it's not fucking normal.
Mammy!
Fine, fine, fine.
Rory, love, what l'm trying to say is,
you are what you are.
And whatever you are,
l will always be your mother.
And you will always be my goo-goo.
And l want you to know that it doesn't matter where we are,
how far we are apart or how long we are apart,
l will always be here, waiting, with a loving heart.
ALL: Aw...
-lt's nice, isn't it? -BOTH: Yes.
l read it on a card.
May you rest in peace.
Now, Rory...
whatever's going on in your life right now, that's private. lt's nobody's business.
But Cathy wanted to know.
l'll take it from here, feckin' nosy parker.
Rory, love,
what's going on with you and Dino?
lt's just that we're worried, love, that's all.
We care for you.
We care for you a lot.
We are here for you, we are your friends.
(lN SINGSONG) We are your friends.
You can tell us anything, love.
Anything. We are here for you, love.
That's it. We're not going to judge you. We're not going to go... (BUZZER NOlSE)
No, we are not going to go, ''5.6, 5.6''.
No, love, this is home. This is not Dancing with the Stars on Ice.
You are not going to leave here with a frosty arse.
So... So, son, you can tell us.
Anything. You can tell us anything. You can tell us anything.
Anything, son. You can tell us anything. We are here.
Tell us fucking something, Rory.
-Yes. -(LAUGHING)
Rory, l remember writing this. lt wasn't this fucking long.
-Come on, son, come on. -Well...
Do you know when you kiss somebody...
-You dirty bastard! -(YELLS)
-Mammy! -l won't have that talk in the house.
Mammy!
Rory, look, Maria had a great idea.
-No, you feckin' started this. -Go on, Maria, tell him.
Well, l just thought that if you and Dino sat and talked to Cathy...
-Kind of like a marriage-guidance session. -Marriage feckin' guidance.
Look, Rory, l wouldn't be on anyone's side.
Or anyone's back.
l'd just listen.
Let me think about that, Cathy.
'Cause l'm just back from that funeral and me head's not clear yet.
All right, l understand.
How was the funeral?
Ah, it was very sad, Mammy.
Was it?
Were they all there from his sumo wrestling club?
They were, yeah.
Did they give him a big send-off?
Oh, they did, yeah.
What did they do?
lt wouldn't surprise me a bit what they did.
-Why? -Oh, they're a very odd family.
See, her... See her, now, when her father died,
they all got together and did a big ceremony on top of the GPO.
And then when they were finished, they tossed his remains off the top.
l think that's disgusting. That should be only allowed if you're fucking cremated.
Tell me, son, how was Grandad at the funeral?
-l think he was depressed. -(CHUCKLES) Was he?
Well, if he wasn't depressed at the funeral, l bet he's depressed now.
Why?
Rory's after leaving him on the fucking bus again.
Grandad.
Hello, son.
-Are you still awake? -Yeah.
l was at George Mumford's funeral today.
Were you? Good craic afterwards?
lt was.
Heard all the people saying what a nice man he was.
And how they'd all miss him.
That was nice. He must've been a good so-and-so.
He was a shitebag.
Son, you'll not get yourself a house by robbing someone else's.
Yeah, well, l have to do something.
There's not enough room for me, Maria and a baby here.
There's less room in a prison cell.
Yeah, well, you have to do what you have to do.
You have to do the right thing, son.
-And then what? -lt comes.
Something will come.
Out of the blue, something always comes.
Are youse all right down here? The debating society.
Don't mind me trying to fucking sleep.
Why don't youse get together and come up and scream in me fucking ear?
And this is a queer hour for you to be coming in at, son.
l'm not just coming in. l'm in about...
An hour and a half.
About one hour and a half.
This is your fucking star witness?
What are youse talking about anyway?
Grandad was just saying
how everybody was saying nice things about George Mumford at the funeral.
-That's nice. -You hated him.
He was a shitebag.
-Ah, but still. -Still what?
-Youse all make me sick. -Do we?
'Cause l won't sleep now worried about that.
And what nice things will people say about me at my funeral?
Uh, yeah, if they both turn up.
And l won't be able to hear them say it.
That's the way it goes, Grandad. Once you die, you go deaf.
You know, a man should be allowed to attend his own funeral.
Jesus, that's a great one, Grandad. You should take that to Dragon's Den.
l'd say that'd fucking catch on.
He could, you know.
Who could what?
Grandad. He could be at his own funeral
and hear all the nice things being said about him.
Of course he could! l do forget we're related to fucking Lazarus.
How could a man be at his own...
Son, explain that to me now, please. Thank you.
Well, we could just tell everyone he's dead.
Have a pretend funeral and let Grandad come in disguise.
-A pretend funeral? -Yeah!
What's going on?
Now you have everybody out of bed. l hope you're fecking happy.
-lt's 2:00 in the morning. -l know, love, and you need your sleep.
Come on, love, sit down. Here, welcome to The Twilight Zone.
Wait till you hear the big plan.
Tell them. Tell them your big idea.
Listen to this, go on. Alfred Pitchfork.
Grandad wants to hear all the nice things that people will say about him at his funeral.
At his own funeral now, we're saying. His own fecking funeral.
So l say we pretend he's dead.
Have a pretend funeral and let Grandad come in disguise.
-What? -That could be great fun!
l could be really sad.
Am l the only sane person in this fucking house?
A pretend funeral!
You know, l haven't been in mourning since your father died.
Everyone said l looked gorgeous in that black suit.
l still have it.
-Have you, Mammy? -Oh, geez, yes, l kept it.
You know, in case of a special occasion.
Pretend funeral!
No... No, no. Dermot, we'd never get away with it.
-We would, Ma. -We wouldn't, son.
Ma, we would. l know two undertakers.
They'd lend me a coffin. We could lay him out here in the house.
l'd like to do his hair and his make-up, like they do in the funeral parlour.
And Father Quinn would say a few prayers, Ma.
Well, l could pick some lovely music for the mass.
And we could all have a stone to drop in the coffin when it's going down the hole.
Easy, Ma, we're not going that far.
Fucking spoilsport.
We could always say nothing and just cremate him.
He'd think he was in the Canaries.
But is it wrong? l mean, is it illegal?
ls it illegal, Dermot?
l don't want the door bashed down and me being dragged out of here by the fuzz.
l don't think so, Ma.
Sure, people pretend to be dead in films and on stage all the time.
Geez, they do. Just look at Rory.
When? When will we do it?
Now, not Tuesday. Bingo.
And not Wednesday.
'Cause that's when Cathy's going to do her counselling on me and Dino.
Oh, not Thursday. Have to have me scan.
-A scan? -Oh, yes, son. A scan.
Welcome to the 2:00 news headlines.
And as the hurricane said to the palm tree,
''Hang on to your nuts, baby. This ain't no ordinary blowjob.''
Look, l was going to tell you after the scan, but...
Tell him now, love. lf you don't tell somebody else,
l'll get fucking sick.
Well, Dr Gibney thinks that it might be twins.
-Twins! Two babies? -Might be.
-Yeah. -Well, usually, yeah.
Unless you're a camel. Then it's two pimples.
-Well, isn't it great? -lsn't it fantastic?
Yeah, it's great.
Well, then, it can't be Friday, because l have something l have to do.
Jesus Christ, are youse all too busy to let me die?
You wait your fucking turn!
You wouldn't die last week when l asked you to.
Wait a minute, now, hold on.
Nobody mentioned Saturday. How's Saturday for you?
-Good, Ma. -How are you for Saturday?
Saturday's fine.
Rory, you've finished your penis-enlargement classes, haven't you?
You are finished! You told me you got your refund and all!
So, how's Saturday for you?
Saturday's fine.
Well, l'm fine on Saturday, so... Hold on, wait now.
We better ask the corpse.
How do you fancy dying on Saturday?
Saturday is good for me.
Ah, Saturday it is, then.
Let's have a good time Saturday when we bury this bastard.
lt was Dermot's idea.
Now, first l thought he was mad, and then l kept looking at Grandad.
And l thought, ''Geez, he's half fucking dead anyway.''
So it'll be a bit of fun.
Here, never mind us. How did you get on in Donegal?
-Oh, it was fantastic. -Was it?
-Sure, Donegal's a beautiful place. -l always said that Donegal looks beautiful.
Especially in the rear-view mirror.
-Let me get this right, Mrs Brown. -What?
Maria doesn't know if she's having one or two babies?
-No. -Your gay son, Rory, is having a breakdown?
-l know. -And Grandad's having a funeral on Saturday.
-Yes. -Even though he's not dead?
Yes. (CHUCKLING)
And you're calling us fucking hillbillies?
Good luck.
l said sheep-shaggers.
Donegal is one of the nicest places in lreland, but l wouldn't fucking tell her that.
Check the dinner. Oh, Jesus, check the dinner.
Check the dinner...
Ah, you bastard!
Suck it, anyway.
You all right down there, Mammy?
No, l'm not. The shelf has gone in the oven again.
There's going to be a slope on the shepherd's pie.
l had a look at it, there. You wouldn't know whether to eat it or fucking ski on it.
Are you alright, Cathy? You look a bit wishy-washy.
l'm all right, Mammy.
-lt's just... -Yeah?
Mick was supposed to meet me last night, right.
The boyfriend.
Yeah. Well, he rang me mobile while l was waiting for him to say he had to work late.
Jesus, Cathy, at least he called. A lot of men wouldn't even bother.
Ah, yeah, Mammy, but it still kind of spoiled the night.
That's what you get for going out with a policeman, Cathy.
He doesn't know where his truncheon is going to be next.
lf you're lucky.
Cathy, l'm not talking about today or yesterday.
The last couple of weeks, love. You're not yourself.
Cathy, l can see these things. l'm your mother.
And, you can talk to me. l promise, it won't go past the shops.
No, Mammy, honestly, l'm fine.
lf you say so.
Listen, any word on Grandad's tests?
No, he's over there getting the last of them now.
Jesus...
Wouldn't it be terrible if he died before fucking Saturday?
And you know that bastard, he'd do that on purpose!
He would, you know.
-l'll see you later, Mammy. -See you later, love.
-Good morning, Ma. -Good morning, my arse!
Where are you going, Spencer Tracy?
-To get me breakfast. -Breakfast, my... Get... You're late for work!
Get up and get into your costume and get out of here.
You'll lose that fecking job.
Please, don't be Father Quinn.
There has to be some other gobshite in the parish.
Oh, geez, come in, come in. Don't let anybody see you. Quick, come in.
-How are you? -Thank you, ma'am.
Are you the two that he sent?
-Do you mean the man upstairs? -Yes.
(AMERICAN) We certainly are.
We're here to shine a light on the path to God, and may l say,
we're delighted with such a welcome.
lt's very nice, son. So, have you got it with you now?
-l'm sorry, ma'am, have we got what? -The coffin.
ls it out in the big black car?
Well, we walked here, ma'am.
-You walked? -Yes, ma'am.
You didn't carry it up the fucking road!
lt's supposed to be a surprise.
Ma'am, we may be confusing you.
l'm Elder Bush and this here, this here is Elder Peach.
How do you do?
-Are you the undertakers? -No, ma'am, we are Mormons.
Stop... Now, stop, son, don't be putting yourself down.
They used to say that about my child in school and he turned out fine.
No, ma'am, Mormons, from The Church of the Latter-day Saints.
Church of the... Church of the Latter-day...
You're the... (MUMBLING)
How do do do?
-Do sit down. -Thank you, ma'am.
Oh, not at all, son. l'm dying to find out what all the fucking fuss is about.
Well, what a lovely home you have here.
Thank you very much, son.
Mind, we're just an ordinary family trying to get by.
My name is Agnes. Or Mrs. Brown. Whichever you think is most appropriate.
That's fine, Mrs Brown. May we begin with a few moments of silent prayer?
-Seriously? -Yes, ma'am.
Just keep your voices down.
That's my son.
He's a big cock.
Come on, where will we start?
How long have we been here?
About four hours now.
-Good Lord. -How many sugars, boys?
Eh, sugars?
ln your tea, how many sugars in your tea?
Uh, ma'am, we don't drink tea.
Of course you don't. You're American.
How many sugars in your capp-and-cino?
Well, we don't drink cappuccino, either,
or alcohol or anything that may taint our systems.
We believe our bodies are a temple of the Lord.
lf this be so, l ask you, who would defile that temple knowingly?
Psst.
Specky.
Does he fucking want coffee?
-What if we just sneak out? -l guess we should.
So, where were we?
We were discussing the Old Testament.
-The Old Testament? -Yes, ma'am.
(SHOUTING) # Hallelujah!
♪ Hallelujah!
Don't mind me, son.
That's just the way we used to do it in my day, back in the old days.
lt's all changed now, isn't it?
Oh, yeah, yeah. lt's all fucking modern now.
Yeah... # Hallelujah!
Westside.
Vatican.
Well, ma'am,
actually, Mrs Brown, l believe we were discussing Abraham.
Abraham.
Yes. Yeah.
Yes, ma'am.
Yes, sir.
Yes, siree.
Great story, ma'am.
Great Abraham... Great story, yeah.
Great, it's a great story. Yeah.
Abraham... You say, Abraham, great story.
Yeah. Sad, though. Sad.
At the end, sad, you know, when the...
When the wheel came off his chariot.
No, hold on, no, wait. That was fucking Kirk Douglas, hold on.
Oh, Abraham, of course! Yes, l remember him from school.
Yeah, yeah. He didn't go to my school.
We learned about him in school. Yeah, he invented the snip.
The what?
The snip.
-The snip? -The snip, on your winky-wonky.
lt's the, you know, snip.
-Oh. -Yeah.
lt's a very good story, that.
lt's made up, though.
-l'm sorry, ma'am. -lt's made up, son.
-No ma'am... -Son. Son. Son!
lt's made... Loads of the Bible is made up.
You had to, otherwise it'd be only a fucking pamphlet.
-No, ma'am. Ma'am, can l explain... -Son, it is!
Some of it... Look, you can tell the bits that are made up.
Norman's Ark, that's made up.
Actually, Mrs Brown, l believe that one was Noah's Ark.
l believe in lreland we call him Norman.
-That's made up. -No, ma'am.
-Son. -Ma'am.
-Think about it. -l've thought about it.
Think about it!
lt rained for 40 days and 40 nights.
And they called it a disaster.
-That's correct, ma'am. -ln lreland, we call that the fucking summer.
Made up.
What had he got on the boat?
Norman, what had he got on his boat, huh?
Are you looking up the fucking answers?
Well, he had two of every animal...
-Two of every animal. -Yes, ma'am.
-ln the whole world. -That's correct, ma'am.
-On a fucking boat. -Yes, ma'am.
Son, we had two hamsters for a month, they nearly shat out the house.
Made up.
Loads of it is made up.
Moses.
No, not the runner.
Moses, from the Bible.
-He got the Ten Commandments off of God. -Yes, ma'am.
What did he write them on?
l'm sorry, ma'am?
When he got the Commandments, Moses, what did he write them on?
You'll fucking love this.
What did he write the Commandments on?
Well, he wrote them on two tablets.
Two fucking tablets.
Yes, ma'am.
Son, they'd want to be feckin' Solpadeine to be able to read it.
-Okay, l think we should be going. -Yes, ma'am.
-l'm not finished. -No, that's fine.
-Thank you, ma'am. -Thank you, ma'am.
The Three Wise Men, they got fucking lost!
Buster, will you give it up? l'm trying to plan a burglary over here.
And l'm telling you, if the dog sees you playing with her ball, she'll go mad.
Dermot, l'm expecting someone to call.
Her boyfriend.
Shut up, you.
Let him in when he comes, will you, Dermot?
-(KNOCKING) Dermot? -Yeah, right.
Jesus Christ!
Right, Buster, we need a truck.
l have me tyres organised.
Good man.
And what about fencing the stuff?
Right.
Jewellery, Donald Black.
Clothes, Esther Keown.
Electrical, Dave Malloy.
And any cash, we keep.
Check.
No, Dermot, no cheques. Just cash, right?
Shut up, Buster.
Cathy, he's here.
CATHY: l'll be down in a minute.
Okay.
Come in.
Cathy will be down in a minute.
So you're the boyfriend?
That's right, l am.
Do you wanna see a trick?
All right. l'm gonna make the ball disappear, right?
So you have to watch it really carefully.
You ready? Watch it. Here we go.
lt's going.
lt's gone.
Sit the fuck down, Buster.
l'm Cathy's brother, Dermot.
-What's the name? -lt's Michael.
How are you, Michael?
But the lads down at the station call me Mick.
Station?
Are you a fireman?
No, l am a detective.
Buster!
What was all that about?
Your brother's friend had some kind of a fit.
-Think he swallowed his ball. -What?
Ah, nothing.
-You look great. -Thanks.
Look, it's a pity we can't stay in for the night,
but me mammy and me sister-in-law are due in from the bingo.
That's fine. Sure, we'll go downtown and have a drink.
Well, we could always go to your flat.
l live with two other fellas. We'd get no privacy.
We never meet any of your friends for a drink.
They do their thing and l do mine.
Or l've never seen your flat.
What's this?
Nothing, it's just...
Well, there's so much about you that l don't know.
There's so much about you l don't know.
Look, l'm sure we'll have fun finding out together.
Okay.
Fancy a drink, young lady?
Oh, l do, kind sir.
AGNES: Too many fecking feckers hanging around.
MARIA: l know, did you see them?
Mammy, we were just leaving.
Well, just hold your fucking horses.
So, this is Slick Mick, the dick.
This is Mick.
-This is me sister-in-law, Maria. -Hi.
This is Mammy.
Hello, ladies.
Oh, don't try your fancy talk with me, son, it doesn't work.
l'm pregnant. l'm not this big all the time.
Pregnant on twins, it could be.
-Well... -Wouldn't surprise me in the least.
Multiple births run in our family.
l had twins meself, and l had an aunty that had triplets.
Right, Mick, come on.
l'm only telling you that, son, in case you're thinking of throwing your leg over her.
Just go, Mick. Jesus!
You'll be up to your fucking neck in children!
He seems like a nice chap.
Do you know, l recognise him from somewhere.
Do you?
Hmm. Maybe, l've seen him around the hospital.
You know, you get an awful lot of policemen in the hospital these days.
Just shows, you're not even safe in fucking hospital now.
-You want a cup of tea, love? -Oh, no, l'm grand.
Maria, thanks very much for coming to the bingo with me.
l do love the company.
Sure, it was great craic.
Here, did you see that one sitting in front of us?
Big bushy red head on her.
Oh, you'd know her. Buck teeth.
She looks like she could eat an apple through a fucking tennis racquet.
Gibney... Fiona Gibney. Oh, you know her.
-What about her? -She wins something
every fecking Wednesday.
Every Wednesday she wins something.
-Does she? -Winnie says she rides a motorbike.
l don't think that's all she's riding.
And l don't think your man shakes his balls enough between the games.
Are you still a bit crampy, love?
Yeah.
lt wouldn't be labour, would it, Mrs Brown?
Labour? Oh, Jesus, no.
What are you now? 32 weeks.
-Yeah. -No, no.
Twins might come early, but not eight weeks early.
No, it's just wind.
When it goes, you'll fucking know about it.
Sitting in that chair, we'd pick you up in the kitchen.
l let one go when l was pregnant, me tights went up like a balloon.
l know so little about having children.
Or rearing them.
We're all the same on our first, love.
You'll find out about having them quick enough.
And as for rearing them, oh, now...
l'm still fucking learning.
What are you giggling at?
l was just thinking about the innocence of us all. What are we like?
See, on my first,
l went to the doctor for me first visit, he told me to bring a sample with me.
l brought a fecking milk bottle full.
l'm sure the poor man thought there was a horse outside waiting to see him.
He told me to take the sample mid-stream.
lf you'd seen me with me wellies in the middle of that fecking stream!
And all the fishermen were just staring at me.
l go, ''Don't mind me, l'm pregnant.''
So, the doctor does the examination, l put me clothes back on.
And, he said, ''Now, Mrs Brown, have you any questions?''
''Yes'', says l, ''l have.''
''Here'', says l,
''what position will l be in, having this?''
And...
And he said, ''The same position as you were when you conceived it.''
Oh, for two weeks l thought
l was gonna have to stick me legs out the fucking car window again.
Beep, beep!
''Mind your horn, you!''
lt sounds like someone's having a good night.
-Just girl talk. -That's all, just girl talk.
We were just talking about your father's driving test.
He failed.
Oh, don't fucking start me off.
Stop it, stop it.
Oh, dear, l'm getting a stitch.
Oh!
Oh, Jesus.
l don't think l'll have tea.
Not in the fecking humour now.
l think l'll just go to me bed.
Give youse a bit of time on your own.
Maria, love, thanks for coming to the bingo. You're very good.
Goodnight, love.
-Goodnight, Mrs Brown. -Goodnight, son.
Night, Ma.
And here, you, you mind her.
-Why? -Just fucking mind her.
l'll get you one of them for Christmas.
Are you all right?
Yeah, l'm grand. Just a bit of cramps, that's all.
Are you sure it's not...
No, twins come early, but not eight weeks early.
Jesus, huh?
Twins.
Yeah.
Batman and Robin.
We're not gonna call them that, are we?
Of course not.
What about names, Dermot?
Will l pick them?
What about one each?
What?
Well, your family's track record in names is not great.
You have a nephew called Bono.
l'll tell you what.
lf it's a boy, l'll name him,
and if it's a girl, you can name her.
Okay. But what name would you pick?
Well, me favourite band is The Beatles.
George.
-George? -Yeah.
George Brown.
-D'you know, l like that. -Yeah.
What if they're both boys?
Well, then George and John.
Yeah.
And if it's two girls, you can name them.
Dermot.
l do love you.
Maria.
l love you, too.
And listen, about getting this house...
Oh, look, Dermot, l'm sorry, l was just trying...
No, Maria, l'm sorry.
Look, we will get this house.
And sooner than you think.
How?
A little bit of extra work.
That's all.
Just a little bit of extra work.
Rory.
How come you never brought home any fish?
Dermot says you go trawling every weekend, and l never see a feckin' fish.
Are you all right, Rory?
Will you relax, Rory?
l don't know where you're going with your feckin' ''counselling''.
Counselling.
No counselling in my day. You must be joking.
Me and your father had a problem, we couldn't run off to a counsellor.
No way, José.
We sorted it out ourselves, like adults.
lnto a room on our own.
And l'd knock the shite out of him.
We didn't need a counsellor, we needed a fucking referee.
l knew it, l knew he wouldn't come.
Rory, he will come.
Dino wants to make this relationship work just as much as you do.
Fucking relationship.
Sorry, what?
Nothing.
lnclude me out of this now.
l don't understand this, Rory. You don't even like Deadliest Catch.
l think Rory is right. l don't think he'll come.
-(KNOCKING ON DOOR) -l knew he would! That's him now.
l knew he'd fecking come.
-l'll get the door. -Rory, sit.
Don't speak to him like he's an Alsatian.
You're supposed to be a psycholologist, not a fucking dog trainer.
Rory, give the paw, give the paw.
Hiya, Dino. Come on in.
Hello there, Cathy.
Now, here's sulphur-head.
Now, Dino, sit down there and apologise to Rory.
And put all this behind you.
Mammy, do you mind?
l'm just trying to speed things up.
Well, you're not helping!
And l'm not fucking deaf.
Sit down, Dino, love.
Yes, Dino, sit.
Shit.
Sit, son. Sit.
Play your cards right and he might take you fishing.
Now, are you comfortable, Dino?
l am that, Cathy, yes.
And Rory?
All right, l suppose.
Okay then.
Well, we're nearly ready to get started.
Don't mind me, l'm just a fly on the wall.
Fly on the wall. Wall, fly, me.
-Mammy. -What?
l think everybody would be more comfortable if you weren't here.
-Would they? -CATHY: Yeah.
lt's a pity everybody doesn't pay the fucking rent.
l don't mind, Cathy.
Really, l don't mind at all.
There you go, ginger-rash doesn't mind.
Just get on with it, Cathy.
Yeah, Cathy, just get fecking on with it, will you?
All right, but Mammy...
What?
Please don't interfere.
Me? l wouldn't even be noticed if you'd stop fecking talking to me.
Okay then.
-Dino... -The badges?
-What? -The badges. You never gave us our badges.
-What badges? -Our badges.
We're all supposed to have badges.
You know, ''My name is Agnes. l am a fucking lunatic.''
No, Mammy, we don't need badges.
-You're supposed to have them. -No, you're not, Mammy.
Look, if you're doing it professionally, you'd have badges.
-Really, Mammy? You would know this how? -Yeah.
l've seen it before. They all get badges.
You've seen it before? Where?
On the thing... On the... Over the Cuckoo's Nest.
Ah!
Well, Mammy, we don't need badges, all right?
Fine.
l have stickers upstairs.
We could all put stickers on and write our names,
and we could pretend they're badges.
Or we could just go ahead with no badges, because we don't need them, okay?
Don't take that fecking attitude, love.
l'm only trying to help you out of your badge situation.
l don't have a badge situation!
Well, obviously, 'cause you don't have fucking badges.
That's because we don't need badges, Mammy.
Jesus, Cathy, it doesn't matter. People forget things all the time.
lf you forgot the badges, you forgot the badges.
No, Mammy, l did not forget.
-lt doesn't matter. -Mammy, l did not forget the badges!
We're just not having badges because we don't need badges!
Jesus, Cathy, calm down.
lt doesn't matter. Rory, do you need a badge?
Do you need... l don't need a badge.
Fuck the badges!
You are making a big thing out of nothing.
-So, no badges. -No badges.
l couldn't give a shite.
Good. Now we're moving on, please.
-Dino, what do you... -Excuse me.
-Mammy, is this you
not interfering now, is it?
No, it's Kermit the Frog, and he's nude.
May l speak, please?
May a woman speak in her own home?
Would that be all right, Oprah?
All right, Mammy, the floor is yours.
The whole fucking house is mine.
Don't go there, girl!
Do not go there.
Girlfriend.
l just want to say that this is Rory's home.
-So? -Rory should go first.
Mammy, it doesn't matter who goes first.
All right then, start with Rory.
No, Mammy, l will not start with Rory.
Now, if you don't mind, there's a system for doing this.
-ls there? -Yes.
lt's a pity you wouldn't fecking learn it.
-Well, actually, Mammy, l have learnt it. -Have you?
-Yeah. -Well, if it's a system,
how come it doesn't matter who goes first?
What are you talking about?
You can't have ''system'' and ''doesn't matter'' in the same feckin' sentence.
lmagine if that was the system they used for flying aeroplanes.
The pilot coming in to land, ''Whoa, whoa''.
''Excuse me, Captain...
''whatever your name is, 'cause we've no fucking badges...
''Excuse me, Captain, are the wheels down?''
''Oh, it doesn't fucking matter.''
Poof!
That wouldn't be a nice way for the cadets to start their two weeks in Fuengirola.
Dragging their arse along the runway like Chihuahua with worms.
-Do you know what, Mammy? -What?
You do this every time.
Oh, don't exaggerate, Cathy. l never flew an aeroplane in me fucking life.
-You know exactly what l'm talking about. -l don't have a clue.
You mess everything up when l try to do my own thing.
-You do, Mammy, you've done it all of my life. -You're getting fecking paranoid.
-Paranoid? -Paranoid. Yes, paranoid.
-Really, Mammy? Huh! -Really.
Well, what about Teddy Brannigan?
Oh, you've gone very quiet now, Mammy.
Feeling a bit guilty, are we?
Certainly not.
-Teddy Brannigan? -Yes, Mammy, Teddy Brannigan.
Oh, Jesus, that was a long time ago.
Yeah, it was, Mammy. But you still remember it, don't you?
l remember it, all right.
You were 16 years of age.
-Not a titty to your name. -Oh!
l was going to get you glasses at the time
just so people would know which way you were fucking facing.
-You didn't like him, Mammy. -Excuse me, now.
-You didn't like him. -Don't put words in my mouth.
-Mammy, you didn't like him. -No, l didn't like feckin' him.
No, l didn't.
-He was a thug. -He was not a thug.
-He was a thug. -He was...
Teddy Brannigan used to go up and down our road
at 2:00 in the morning. (MIMICS MOTORBIKE)
lf he ever got a motorbike, he'd have been fucking dangerous.
And you running behind with your helmet on.
You looked like Bilbo.
A dildo, a dildo.
Mammy, l was in love.
Love, my arse!
What would you know about love at 16 years of age?
Specially to a thug like that?
-He was not a thug! -He was a thug!
Teddy Brannigan walked around this area like some kind of feckin' hard man.
Oh, Jesus, Mammy! Name one boy who doesn't walk around this area like a hard man
when he's 19 years of age.
-Rory. -(GASPS)
Jesus, he doesn't count.
He doesn't count, my son doesn't count?
Eighteen hours in labour, and he doesn't count?
You tell that to my battered badger!
Does my son count?
Look, Rory, look.
You're not even irrelevant.
Look, l'm sorry, Rory, love. Of course you do.
-Oh, he does count? -Yes, he counts.
You do count. You do count, you don't count, you do count...
Now, l see the fucking system.
Make it up as you go along.
Teddy Brannigan.
-l saved you. -You saved me?
lt's too late to thank me now.
l have no intention of thanking you. l don't know what you're talking about.
You wouldn't have been happy.
Well, l'm not happy now! So there!
Well, maybe you should be talking to yourself
and leave them fucking two alone.
-Jesus Christ! -No, Jesus Christ you!
-You won't even let me... -l do let you try...
No, Mammy, l am not doing this with you any more!
-Fine. -All right?
Fine!
Get that puss off you!
-Mouth on you like a hen's arse. -Don't talk to me like l'm...
Don't talk to me like l'm five years of age, Mammy, all right?
-Are you finished? -l am finished.
-Good. -Good.
-'Cause l'm going out. -Good.
How could you do that?
Do what?
How could you beat your mother?
l brushed off you.
You beat me.
-My arm has gone dead. -Oh, for Christ's sake!
Jeez, my arm... Look, it's fucking dead.
lt's spreading, it's spreading.
Help me, help me.
Help me.
Go on, go.
Walk out that door.
l can't sing the rest of that, otherwise we'll get fucking sued.
Do you know what, Mammy, l will go!
And there's nothing wrong with your arm. This is just drama!
-lt's dead. Look, it's still dead. -Mammy, it's drama.
-There's nothing wrong with you. -Don't speak to me like that.
The only thing that's wrong with you is...
l'm sorry, love, what were you saying?
Pathetic, Mammy.
Do you know what? The only thing wrong with you is that you didn't get your own way.
-l beg your pardon? -Now, l am going to go out.
And you know what? You sort this out.
-l have no intention to. -Come on, Mammy!
Don't beat me!
Mammy, you're now getting pathetic.
l never laid a hand on you in the first place.
Come on, Mammy, sit down there now.
-Come on. -(GROANING)
Oh, please, Mammy.
You know what, Mammy, you've been trying to take over since l started.
So now is your big chance.
All right, go on, Mammy.
Do you know what? Now you can mess up their lives.
Just like you messed up mine!
Well, you didn't need much fucking help.
Oh, Jesus!
Don't bang that fucking door.
We've another show tomorrow night!
Now, Rory, you saw that.
l was sitting there, minding me own fucking business.
This is all because she forgot the fucking badges.
l tell you now, son,
if Jesus Christ appears to me and asks me to sacrifice a child,
she's fucking gone.
(BOTH LAUGHING)
Oh, l feel so much better after that.
So do l.
Oh!
Oh, l'm sorry, Rory.
No, Dino, l'm sorry.
Let's celebrate. Let's do something mad tomorrow, eh?
All right.
What?
l have a friend.
He owns horses.
He lives right beside the Phoenix Park.
Shall we try them, Rory, shall we?
Dino Doyle, l've never been on a horse in me life.
Ach, neither have l.
Let's just do it for the craic. What do you say?
-All right. -Rory, Rory.
Kiss me, kiss me.
Quick, Dermo, back her up.
Keep her coming.
...keep her coming.
Hold it there.
You're a gobshite, Buster.
You were driving.
You were supposed to be backing me in.
There goes me no-claims bonus.
Buster, just keep sketch. l'll have this door open in no time.
Mine's broke.
DERMOT: What?
Me torch, it's out of order.
Right, Buster, we're in, let's go.
Nice one, Dermo.
Jesus, it's pretty dark in here.
DERMOT: l know, Buster. Just feel your way around.
BUSTER: Dermot, l'm after finding a PlayStation!
Get your hand off me balls, Buster.
Sorry, Dermo.
They're very nice.
DERMOT: Search over there.
BUSTER: Here, Dermo, l think l found something.
DERMOT: What is it?
BUSTER: A fur coat. DERMOT: Excellent.
Uh, it's after licking me.
Maria, are you all right?
MARlA: Oh, will you give me a minute! l'm coming.
-Cathy, love. -Yeah?
What's her name again?
Jennifer Lopez.
Oh, l like her.
-CATHY: Yeah, l do, too. -She shouldn't have left Friends.
Uh-huh.
-Wouldn't have liked to be her. -Who?
Sarah Pipelin.
-Who? -Sarah Pipelin.
She was laid by 5,000 men.
Show me that.
That's ''Sahara pipeline'', Mammy.
Who writes this shite?
Listen to this, Cathy.
The correct use of condoms.
Ten top tips.
''Number one. Remove the condom from the wrapper.''
You'd never fucking think of that one.
Jesus, listen to this.
Cathy! ''Roll the condom over the member.''
l didn't know you had to be a fucking member.
Some of these are ridiculous.
''Number eight.''
Hmm!
''Splash cold water on your scrotum.''
-What if you haven't got a scrotum? -What?
What if you have a Toyota or a Volkswagen?
-Ma. -What?
Was there anybody looking for me, today?
No, Dermot, you're not popular.
Why don't you do what you always do, go on Facebook and beg?
Dermot, are you in some kind of trouble?
No, Ma.
Are you all right?
Dermot, l'm not on skates.
Just as well. People would think you were a fucking wheelie-bin.
You know, l wish Buster Brady was in hospital more often.
Then you could walk me to work every night.
-ls Buster still in hospital? -Yeah.
Jesus. How's he doing?
Ah, as well as can be expected.
lt was a very strange accident that, though, wasn't it?
-Buster's accident? -MARIA: Yeah.
Fecking was.
l mean, well, how do you catch your testicles in a truck door?
Here, knowing Buster, he probably had them in his mouth.
ln his fecking mouth.
No, he hadn't, Cathy.
Men can't do that to themselves.
Mind you, there's not of them that hasn't fucking tried.
Yeah, weird. Come on, let's go.
-Rory... -Jesus, Rory, are you all right?
Oh, it's me back, Mammy.
l feel like l'm two foot tall.
Oh, my God.
Did you fall over something?
No, Mammy, me and Dino were up in the park, riding.
-Jesus, Dermot, pick her up. -Ma!
MARIA: Mrs Brown, are you all right? Did you hurt yourself?
What's wrong?
Mammy, riding horses.
You dirty bastard!
That's worse than sheep.
l'll never get used to this gay thing.
Mammy, horses with saddles.
-You were horse-riding? -Yes.
Why didn't you fucking say that?
Now here's the lavender cowboy.
-Me and Rory... -We know, we already heard, thank you.
Oh, l'm stiff.
-Rory Brown! -Oh!
l won't have that talk in the house!
-Cut that out! -RORY: Ah... Oh...
Rory, Dino, come on over to me. l have some cream for muscle pain.
-Here, Maria, let me help. -Thanks, Cathy.
Cream for feckin' muscle pain, maybe that's what they should be getting.
Stay where you are, Dermot, l'll get the door.
l only live to get that door.
l was putting the magazines away as quick as l could,
'cause l'm thinking, ''Oh, l hope he doesn't get the fucking door.''
Jesus Christ, you lazy bastard!
Oh, surprise for Cathy.
Come in, Michael.
Jesus, Mick.
l wasn't expecting to see you tonight.
Or anybody for a while.
Give me a few minutes and l'll get ready.
No, Cathy, l'm on duty.
And who's she?
He's on duty, Mammy. He's working.
l thought he said Judy.
No, duty.
-l am fucking scared. -lt's okay.
Actually, l'm here to see Dermot.
MARIA: Dermot? AGNES: Dermot?
-For what? -For what?
l'll speak to you in private.
Anything you have to say to him can be said right here.
-We're all family. -Yes, we're all family.
Except scaldy-balls.
Maybe l should speak to Mick in the kitchen.
Good idea. Come on, everyone into the kitchen.
No, you can talk to him here.
Now, what is it, Detective O'Leary?
Yes, what do you want?
Maria, how do you know his name is O'Leary?
Well, l met him a couple of times in the hospital.
-She said that before. -ln the children's clinic?
-That's right, she said that. -Now, what do you want?
Yes, state your business, please.
l'm investigating an attempted break-in
at a warehouse in Portmarnock last Monday.
Ah, Jesus Christ.
Two men fitting the description of yourself
and a Buster Brady were seen there with a truck.
At what time?
1 1 :30.
Couldn't have been my husband, he was with me.
-Where? -Here, they were here.
Everyone in your fucking book, they were all here.
l went to bed at about 1 2:00.
Well, l had to, there was people all over the fucking place, you couldn't get a seat.
Fellas with balaclavas there, and fellas with tights over here...
-They were here. -That's what l'm saying, they were here.
-Would you both swear to that in court? -l would, twice.
Dermot Brown was having a night in with his wife, Detective O'Leary.
Maybe you should try doing the same yourself some time.
All right, l guess that's that, then.
-Cathy... -Don't.
She's not very clear. Fuck off!
Cathy, l'm so sorry.
Just leave it, Maria.
MARIA: Cathy, please... CATHY: lt doesn't matter.
-Just leave it. -AGNES: Cathy, Cathy...
Cathy, love, there's a bit of ironing. Bring it down with you
-when you come down. -Ah, Jesus!
Come on, Dino, we better go.
Wouldn't see this in a fucking book.
Police barging in and John Wayne's sisters going out...
l better go up here and see if she's all right.
Maria, love, most of this is not your fault.
Thanks, Ma.
Thanks? Thanks my feckin' arse!
l'm sorry, Maria.
-lt was the house, wasn't it? -lt wasn't the house.
Ah, Dermot!
When we get the deposit for a house, it won't be robbed.
l will not bear these babies in a stolen home.
Babies?
You had your scan, it is twins!
No, Dermot, it's triplets.
Yeah, well...
Maybe now you can walk us all to work.
Cathy? Cathy, this is your mother.
Cathy, open the door.
CATHY: (SOBBING) No, Mammy, just go away.
AGNES: No, love, not your door. l'm stuck in the toilet.
Give that a minute.
Cathy, love,
do you want me to stay up here and give you a bit of counselling?
CATHY: No, Mammy.
-l have badges. -(CATHY SOBBING)
All right, all right, l was only trying to help. l'm sorry.
Do you want a cup of tea, love?
CATHY: Mammy, will you just leave me alone?
All right, l'm sorry.
-GRANDAD: Can l have tea? -No.
You've only one day to fucking live.
l forget me jacket, Ma.
You forgot more than your jacket.
You forgot your promise.
Your promise to me.
l did, Ma, but it was just for a minute.
Oh, raspberry blancmange!
Ma...
-l was going to rob... -Hmm.
But l didn't.
Maybe it's a sign, Ma.
Maybe God is giving me another chance.
Maybe.
-l'd prefer another chance from you, Ma. -l'm not God, son.
So you can fuck off.
l don't give chances, Dermot Brown.
lf you want a chance from me, you earn it, you earn a chance.
l will earn a chance, Ma.
Dermot...
l'm too fecking old for this.
You were bad enough as a child.
Getting the whole family barred from the zoo.
The sign said ''Don't feed the monkeys.''
Especially to the fucking lions.
l hope your children grow up big and strong,
and l hope they break your fucking heart.
Go on, son, go. Don't leave that girl out there on her own. Go, go.
-And Ma... -What?
lt's triplets.
l know.
Maria tells me these things first.
Where was l?
l was going to me bed.
No, l was going to make fucking tea.
Jesus Christ, l don't know where l am or what l'm doing.
Just about sums up your life, Agnes Brown.
Father Quinn!
Ah, Dermot Brown.
Oh, come here. How's our friend, Blister?
-Buster's all right. -Ah, good.
He gets out of the hospital tomorrow.
Are you all right, Father? Are you drunk?
You know something, Dermot,
your mother, she's a beautiful woman.
You're fucking pissed.
Come on, l'll get you home.
No, l've finally done it.
-Done what, Father? -Made a decision.
What decision, Father?
A big one.
And stop calling me Father, Dermot. l'm no longer a priest.
Ah, now, sure, once a priest, always a priest.
No, l'm not like your brother Trevor over in Uan... (MUMBLING)
-How do you pronounce that? -The Philippines.
Ah, Philippines, yeah. Well, unlike him, God didn't call me to His service.
That's just how it is, you know.
But wasn't it you that convinced Trevor to go on the missions in the first place?
No, it was God that convinced him.
l just, you know, made the arrangements.
l think you're undervaluing yourself, Father. You're one of God's people.
Nice of you to say, Dermot, but for months now l've prayed for a sign.
Anything just to lift up me heart, prove me mother wrong.
-Well, maybe that's it, Father. -What?
Maybe God doesn't want you to prove your mother wrong, or anybody else.
Maybe God just wants you to prove yourself.
-Dermot Brown, you are a lovely man. -Yeah.
-Did you say a sign, Father? -Yeah.
l'll make a deal with you, Father.
My mother is expecting you for Grandad's funeral tomorrow night.
All right.
Now, if you haven't had a sign by the end of the day tomorrow,
and you still want to leave the church, l'll pack your bags for you.
-Dermot Brown, you have a deal. -(BOTH LAUGHING)
-Lovely. Now, come on, let's go. -Where are you taking me?
-l'm taking you to a lap-dancing club, Father. -Really?
No, l'm taking you fucking home! Come on.
Please. l'm asking you nicely. Please. Come on. Come on.
-Get in. -No.
Get into that box, or l'll fucking kill you meself.
-l'm afraid! -There's nothing to be afraid of.
Just think about it as being... a new bed.
With a fucking lid?
l'm not going to put the lid...
Grandad, look, Rory and Dino are going to be here
to do your hair and make-up any minute.
And then Father Quinn will arrive.
Well, if you're not in the box, the whole thing's fucked.
Good man. Now you're... Come on, it's easy.
Just cock your leg, hold the sides now...
Cock your other leg. Now look. Now, wasn't that easy?
lt's not Disneyland. Lie down!
Would you fix your fucking leg...
Now, you're covered in feckin' ash. Look at you.
Oh, Grandad, Grandad, Grandad.
You know what, Grandad? That suits you.
-Dermot, good man. -Ma.
l just met Dr Flynn. She's getting her stuff out of the car.
-ls she drunk? -Oh, she's pissed, Ma.
Excellent.
You look great, Grandad.
Doesn't he? l'm telling you, mahogany is his fucking colour.
-Oh, good morning, Maria, love. -Good morning.
-Good morning, Grandad. -Don't talk to him. He's fucking dead.
Uh, Maria. No, no, no, Maria, l'll get that. lt's Dr Flynn. You go into the kitchen.
-Get a drink ready for her. -Right.
And you, don't move. You just did!
Hello, Doctor. Do come in.
-Good morning, Mrs Brown. -Good morning...
-Now, where's Grandad? -He's there.
-Thank you. Jesus Christ! -No, it's definitely Grandad.
-But that's a coffin! -l know.
-What's he doing in that? -Guess.
-He's dead! -Dead.
-Oh, Mrs Brown, why didn't you call me? -l did call you. You're here, aren't you?
-Oh, this is such a shock. -A drink. That's what you need.
-Oh, yes, please. -Let me get you a drink.
-Oh, gosh. -Wait and watch.
-Now, love, there you go. -Oh, bless you, Mrs Brown.
-Oh, l am so sorry for your trouble. -Thank you.
Now...
-l'm afraid there will have to be an autopsy. -No, there doesn't.
-No? -No, once he's been in hospital
within 72 hours of his demise,
in that case the local doctor can write the death certificate.
-l can? -You can.
-Of course l can! -Now we're fuckin' laughing.
ln that case, Mrs Brown, l do have to make it official.
-What do you mean? -Check for a pulse.
-Right. -What an awful shock this must be.
Terrible shock. l mean, he couldn't have been expecting it.
Not at all.
-You need a drink. Here, have a drink. -Oh.
-Take a sip of that. -Thank you, Mrs Brown.
-Not at all. Here you go. -So kind.
l'll take that. l'll take that. l'll...
-l'm sorry, Mrs Brown, but there's no pulse. -You're amazing.
l'll have to go back to the surgery and get that certificate for you.
-You won't forget, will you? -l'll drop it back to you later.
Thank you very much.
-You know, he was such a dear old man. -Who's this? Yes, he was.
-Oh, l shall miss him. -We all will.
Trying to feel me up in the surgery...
Mrs Brown?
-lt just comes on me. -Let me give you something for shock.
No, it comes on me in waves.
Doctor, why don't you go back and get the certificate now?
That way you could stay and you might have a drink.
-Oh. That's exactly what l'll do. -l thought you might.
-Oh, God bless you, dear. -God bless you.
All these years, coming out, looking after him. Don't think we don't appreciate it as a family.
Sorry for fucking keeping you.
-Dr Flynn! -Yes?
That's not your car. Back here, the blue one.
That's it. Bye-bye. Oh, for fuck's sake.
Would you not be better in the front?
l swear she kills more than she fucking cures.
-How are you, Mammy? -Hi!
Oh, boys, well done. On time, in time. Now, Grandad, do whatever the boys tell you.
And lads, watch the time. Father Quinn could be here any minute.
-ls she gone? -She's gone.
She's gone to get me a death certificate.
You don't need the death certificate, Ma.
Oh, yes, l do. He's due 35,000 euros from his union the day he dies.
He's retired 26 years. l'm fucked if l'm waiting any longer.
Ma!
Dermot, it's not for me.
lt'll come in handy for you two, help youse get set up in a place of your own.
-Well, Jesus! Thanks, Ma. -Thanks nothing, Dermot.
l'm fed up of youse coming here and... Squashed for space, l have no privacy.
And there's going to be children running around.
l want youse out.
Thanks very much, Mrs Brown.
Don't thank me, love. Thank Grandad for dying prematurely.
Go on, go get ready for the funeral.
Dermot, is this miracle going to work for Father Quinn?
Ma, will you relax? Father Quinn won't know what hit him.
l hope you're right, love. Otherwise it'll be me with a hurly.
Maria.
-Have you a minute, love? -Yeah?
-ls Cathy up there? -Yeah, she's getting ready.
-Oh, do you want her? -No, no.
She was crying in her sleep again last night.
l want to help, but l don't know what to fucking do.
Do you know what l got? You might think this is fucking silly.
l...
lt is silly.
Nothing. lt doesn't matter.
She'll be fine.
Of course she will, Mrs Brown. Just give her a bit of time.
You're right. A bit of time, that's all she needs, a bit of fucking time. You're right.
You haven't got a lot of time. Go on, get ready, love.
Thank you, Maria. You're very good.
Agnes Brown, sometimes you're just a silly old woman.
Oh, now, look at you, all in black.
You look gorgeous.
-Thanks, Mammy. So do you. -l know. (LAUGHS)
Cathy, l'm sorry the way it ended with the copper.
-lt wasn't your fault, Mammy. -No, it wasn't, but still, l...
l don't like to see things like that happen to you. You don't deserve it.
You deserve better. And that's what you have to say to yourself.
''l fucking deserve better.''
Mammy, l think l suspected all along.
lt was too good to be true. What...
Yes, you getting a man.
-l got you, though, didn't l? Look at you. -You did.
Oh, l'm glad, Cathy. Look at you smiling.
l wouldn't like the day of your grandad's funeral
to pass without you smiling.
-Here. Here. Feck it, here. That's for you. -What's this?
The Yellow Pages. What do you think it is?
-lt's a phone number. -Yes, it's a phone number.
But, Mammy, whose phone number is it?
Teddy Brannigan's.
You know l don't like gossip.
l was down doing me weightlifts and workout,
and you can't help but hear things.
And Teddy Brannigan's wife fecked off on him three years ago.
Left him on his own with two young children.
Well, it's not easy on your own with young children, and l know that.
And then l remembered he used to be a friend of yours.
l just thought a phone call might cheer him up.
You know when you get a call sometimes, ''Hello? Yes?'' l'm fucking cheered up.
Anyway, that's his number.
-l'll ring him later. -Can if you like. l couldn't give a shite.
-Thanks, Mammy. -Don't mention it.
No, Mammy, l really mean it. Thank you.
l know you do.
And l really mean it. Don't mention it.
l'm your mother, Cathy. And that's what we do. Mothers.
That's what we fucking do.
Even for thugs.
Mammy, will you let it go?
Just don't bring him around this fucking house, that's all l ask.
Oh, Maria, look at you, you look gorgeous. Mammy.
-What? -Maria.
Oh, now, look, a Black Maria.
-Hello. -Hi, Betty.
-Hello, Betty. -Hi, Betty.
Well, Maria, you look blooming and blossoming.
-How are you feeling? -Oh, a bit tired, but l'm excited.
Well, don't be getting too excited. We're in mourning.
-Yeah, but... -We're in mourning.
-Now, come on, practise. -Practise?
Yes, you couldn't go to a funeral without practising, it'll be rude.
Come on, hold your hands like that, bow your heads, shake it slowly. Like this.
And then every few minutes,
l want you to come up and take four really fast breaths. Like this.
All right, let's try that. One, two, three, go.
Very good.
This is great practice for me, l tell you, 'cause when he does go,
it'll be all l can do to stop meself doing fucking cartwheels.
Oh, Mam.
-He's ready! -Oh, yes, bring him down, put him in the box.
Ta-da!
Oh, my God! He looks like Shirley Temple.
There's Father Quinn. Put him in the box facedown.
-Oh, no, no, no. -All right, face up.
No, don't open it yet.
Dermot! Dermot!
-Yeah? -Father Quinn is at the fecking door.
-ls everything ready? -Well, what do you mean everything?
-The candle? -The candle is there.
-And Grandad? -And Grandad looks like Barbie in her box.
-Yeah, we're ready. Let him in. -Wait, wait. l'm not in me position.
Oh, it's only you.
ls it a bird? ls it a plane? No! lt's Nappy Boy!
You can't be a superhero, son. You haven't got the balls.
-lt's not funny. -Son, if you saw it in the mirror, it is.
-Close that door, love. -No, no, leave it open. Winnie's on her way in.
Keep your eye out for Winnie.
-Who's she? -Shut up, you.
-Oh, lovie, l'm so sorry for your... -ls it yourself, Winnie?
Thank you, Winnie. l'm sorry, l can barely speak.
Where is he?
Winnie, did you think that was the fucking buffet?
Jesus! Lord! Would you look at the state of him?
-Oh, my God! -No, Winnie. Winnie. Winnie. Winnie.
♪ Oh, peace in the valley
Yeah, that's it, Winnie.
♪ Peace where he lies
Winnie, none of that, love. Winnie.
♪ Peace in that... ♪
Winnie!
l'm sorry, love. Did somebody tell you it was a fucking karaoke?
There's Father Quinn. Wait, wait, get Britney Spears off the fucking coffin.
-God bless all in this house. -Thank you, Father.
-Agnes, l'm so sorry. -Oh, Father... (SOBBING)
-l know. -l never knew... (MUMBLES HYSTERICALLY)
-l know. -And all the time, he always...
-l know. -How do you fucking know?
-l'm so sorry for your troubles. -Thank you, Father.
l'm so sorry. So sorry. So sorry for your troubles.
Thank you, Father.
Light the candle, Mrs Brown, and we'll begin.
Hey, Buster, flick that wick with your... dick.
-''The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away... -Too true! Too true!
-''He gives us always the promise of heaven...'' -And hell for the sinners!
Winnie, it's not a fucking quiz, all right?
-Harold Brown was a good man... -Oh, blah, blah, blah.
At this time, let us consider his contribution to our lives.
Well, this won't take fucking long.
For without him, none of you would be here today.
l beg your pardon? Oh, look, it's the Statue of Liberty.
Sorry, Father. l'm sorry. Sorry, sorry, Father.
No, Agnes, none of her children, none of her grandchildren.
l never thought about it that way.
Now let us all take a moment...
♪ For reflection ♪
-He's alive! -Oh, my God!
-What was that? -He's alive!
-Yes.
Oh, Father Quinn, it's a miracle. lt's a goddamn miracle.
-Yes. -How did you do it, Father?
How did you do it?
-l don't know. l raised my hands like this. -ALL: He raised his hands like this!
-l looked up to the Lord. -He looked up to the Lord!
♪ He put his hands up in the air
♪ Put his hands up in the air
♪ And he said a little prayer
♪ I've never seen the light before
♪ Never seen the light before
♪ Grandad's back from death's door
♪ So if your life is full of sin
♪ If your life is full of sin
♪ Just send out for Father Quinn
♪ Father Quinn Father Quinn
♪ Father Quinn Father Quinn ♪
Here we go!
-Father Quinn! Father Quinn! -Yes, Mrs Brown?
-Father Quinn, l'd like to make a confession. -Oh, go ahead, Mrs Brown.
Well, Father, l was unfaithful to me husband.
-What! -lt was just the once in Manchester.
Just the feckin' once.
-With who? -Well, Manchester United.
Manchester United!
You're forgiven, Mrs Brown.
Yay!
♪ He just raised his hands up high
♪ He asked the Lord to hear his cry
♪ Asked the Lord to hear his cry
♪ Got this secret from my past
♪ Got this secret from her past
♪ He laid to rest for me at last
♪ Laid to rest for her at last
♪ It doesn't matter where you've been
♪ Doesn't matter where you've been
♪ Just send out for Father Quinn
♪ Father Quinn! Father Quinn
♪ Father Quinn Father Quinn
♪ He waited for a sign from Him
♪ Waited for a sign from Him
♪ Instead of your faith being dead
♪ Your faith is dead
♪ You worked a miracle instead
♪ So now you have the power within
♪ Now you have the power within
For God's sake, there's your sign, Father Quinn.
♪ Father Quinn Father Quinn ♪
Thank you. Thank you.
Thank you.
Oh, come on.
Thank you. Please... Thank you.
Please, sit down, please.
You're very kind.
Ladies and gentlemen, this show could not be done without this magnificent cast.
l don't usually like to single any particular actor out for mention,
but really tonight, l thought l was fucking amazing.
l'm sorry, but really. l did well. Okay. Okay.
Sometimes it just works out that way, you know.
You just have to put some good lines. l know the writer.
This is part two of the Mrs Brown trilogy. There's five parts.
l'm writing part six at the moment. lt's called,
''l know a fucking bandwagon when l see one.''
Thank you. They're on, by the way, we're here till the end of the week,
but it's sold out. So if any of your friends haven't got tickets, fuck them.
Thank you for spending some of your Tuesday night with us.
We were recording this for our new DVD of the live show,
so you're all included in the DVD. God love you.
lt'll be all over the world and people will be going...
''She didn't know that was going to be filmed, she wouldn't have worn that fucking top.''
What you saw tonight, l wrote and we all performed especially for you.
Good night and God bless you.