Are you off your head completely?
The Irish don't binge drink?
I am telling you it is an English thing.
The Irish don't drink to get drunk.
I totally agree with you, Packy, because--
I'm gonna vomit.
You were saying?
Look, when the English drink, it's organized.
It's regimented.
Yeah.
And it's also fucking organized.
- Yeah. - And regimented.
Exactly.
They have an objective to go wrecked,
they achieve that objective.
Job done.
Irish drinking is more of an art form.
You don't just walk into a pub sober and get on it.
That's--
Barbaric.
We warm up.
We drink before we're out.
While we're out.
And when we get home.
For us it's about longetivity.
What it's about.
Longevity.
We keep going.
So no, we don't drink until we're drunk.
We drink until we're sober.
And that's the difference, Bronagh.
The English charge, and the Irish float.
Float, do we?
Oh, that's handy.
Because Conor's just pissed himself.
Aw, Jesus, Conor.
[music playing]
NEWSCASTER: It's another gorgeous, sunny day
here in Belfast.
It's too warm, actually.
It's boiling.
I'm roasting here.
What are you doing?
Dropping you off at the airport.
- This isn't the airport. - We're here, Bronagh.
We're here.
No we're not, [inaudible].
I'll get us a trolley.
All right, you do that.
OK.
Well, be careful, will ya?
Behave yourself now.
Da, this isn't the airport.
What's going on?
Oh, there's nothing going on.
Oh, I'm fairly sure there's something going on.
Everything OK, love?
She knows about the whole this not being the airport thing.
Well, isn't that just brilliant?
I didn't tell her, love.
Swear I didn't.
I can hear you.
Look, Bronagh, that airport car park started charging.
It's extortionate.
They're robbing bastards, so they are.
And we're not paying it.
It's a matter of principle, isn't it, love?
It is, love.
There's no trolleys left.
You just leave us here.
It's the middle of nowhere.
No it's not.
You're a three minute walk away.
Three minutes? Really?
Three minutes, three miles.
Something like that.
I am not walking three fucking miles, Ma!
You watch your mouth.
A bit of exercise will do us good, Bronagh.
That's right, son.
Listen to your brother, love.
This is madness.
Just drive us to the airport.
I'll pay for the car park.
Well, that takes us a bit out of our way, is the thing.
What?
We want to go to IKEA.
We've our eye on a chopping board.
Ma, Da, you cannot do this.
You just can't.
Fine.
Go, Chris!
Go, go, go!
Come on!
They're some crack, aren't they?
God, I missed you.
You're so fucking amazing.
Yeah, I know.
I thought about you all the time when I was inside.
Did you think about me?
- Not really. - Too painful?
Yeah.
Maybe. I have to go.
You don't have to go.
Yeah, I know.
But it just sounds better than I want to go.
Will I see you later?
Might be heading out.
I could come meet ya.
They're taking off the tag today.
What?
They're taking away your ankle bracelet?
No, you see, I enjoy the ankle bracelet.
The ankle bracelet means that I can come here and get the ride,
but not have to run into you when
I'm out pulling other fellas.
You crack me up.
[plane engine]
So it was so good to spend a bit of time
with the old family, though, wasn't it?
There's things I'd rather have been doing.
Like, I don't know, stabbing myself repeatedly in the face.
- Good morning. - No.
Lovely.
And where are you flying to today?
London. Thank fuck.
Lovely.
And can I just have your wee passports?
I only have a regular size passport, so--
Lovely.
And can you just pop your wee bag on the scale for me
there, please?
Oh, I'm afraid you're a wee bit over the weight restriction
there.
Gonna have to pay a wee additional charge.
I'm not sure I trust your definition of wee.
How much?
60 pounds.
60 what?
Are you fucking demented?
Come on, now, Bronagh.
I will sort this.
Yeah, I can't sort it.
You really are such a [inaudible]..
Look, I don't have the money, OK?
But even if it did, I would rather bite off my own left tit
than hand it over to you.
Look, I'm really sorry.
You're not sorry.
I am sorry.
I don't think you're sorry.
She does sound sorry, Bronagh.
I'm sorry, but if you don't pay the fee,
then I'm afraid that your bag won't
be traveling with you today.
All right.
Fine.
My bag won't be traveling with me today.
Well, that's absolutely fucking fine.
Tell me this-- have you started weighing
the actual passengers yet?
No.
Of course not.
Good.
Conor, layer the fuck up.
Need to roll into Tesco's.
No bother.
Packy, how many times a day would you shite?
What?
Would you shite once a day, would you shite twice a day?
I think I'm shitting a lot lately.
- Right. - It's not diarrhea.
No, my stuff's firm.
You could grab a hold of it, like--
do you think it's something I'm eating?
I think it's something I'd rather not talk
about with a hangover, Niamh.
Or ever.
Patrick!
Ryan?
Jesus.
Long time.
How the hell are you, man?
Christ, it's been ages.
How, this is my friend Niamh.
Nice to meet you.
Listen, Ryan, how many times a day would you--
Not now, NIamh.
So what are you up to?
You living here now, then, or--
No.
Staying with a friend.
Just over for a bit of an operation.
Right.
Nothing serious, I hope?
It's probably because he's missing a hand.
Look.
Yeah.
I still only have one hand, you see, Patty.
So you do.
I met a fella once who only had the one eye.
Thomas something.
Do you know him?
No.
No, I don't.
So what kind of operation are you--
Oh, I'm having a bebionic prosthetic fitted.
Decided to go private in the end.
Been on that NHS waiting list for--
five years? - Jesus.
Tell me about it.
18 months I've been waiting to get a wisdom tooth out.
That's-- desperate.
Oh, I'd better run. But it was great, though.
- So great. - And we should definitely--
Absolutely.
Did I just compare him losing a hand to me
getting a fucking tooth out?
You did, aye.
God, you talk to someone like that,
and it really makes you think, doesn't it?
About the glove thing?
I'm sorry?
Yeah.
Like, does he buy them in pairs and throw one away, or--
are there places that sell singles?
No.
I mean, you see someone with real problems
and you realize how lucky you are.
We should be out there seizing the day.
I mean, we're young.
We're healthy.
We shouldn't be pissing away our lives like this.
You know what I'm saying?
Completely.
So Tyson says he can get a smack.
What?
Smack.
Do you fancy it?
No, I do not fancy it.
Well, you don't have to pay for it, or anything.
Niamh, we are not doing smack.
Well, what am I supposed to tell Tyson?
Tell him to stick his heroin up his hole.
Aye, like I'm gonna say that.
Sure that's why he got banged up in the first place.
I'm not sure Tyson's the man for you.
Because of the Protestant thing?
No, it's not so much the Protestant thing.
It's more the drug smuggling, grievous bodily harm,
jail sentence thing that bothers me.
Doesn't it bother you?
The Protestant thing bothers me more.
I see.
How fucking much?
Aye, well you can ride my leg as well, you bastard.
You wearing a frock?
It's Bronagh's.
OK.
How'd the old country?
Fuck right off.
And so.
What happened here?
Oh, this.
Oh, I got attacked last night.
Jesus, man.
By who?
This drunk jockey just came out of nowhere
and starting battering me with like, a bicycle pump.
Bronagh punched you, didn't she?
Yep.
You clamped when the plane landed again, didn't you?
Yep.
We should be out there seizing the day, you know?
We're young.
We're healthy.
We have both our hands.
Seriously, will you shut up about your hando friend?
Nobody cares about the hando friend.
He's not my hando friend.
He's without a hand.
He's my no hando friend.
Look, it's quiz night at the pub tonight.
I'm going to see if we can give the pot to Ryan's cause.
What do you think?
Oh, Packy, like I give a flying fuck.
What are we doing?
What are we up to?
What's going on?
Take that off.
You're just raging because it looks better on me.
I hope your next shite's a hedgehog, Conor.
Guess who I bumped into earlier.
Ryan.
Ryan?
Aye, and he worked in the garage shop with me back home.
Ryan.
Ryan--
Ryan.
You remember Ryan.
Hm.
Ryan?
For god's sake, Ryan.
He had a sister called Sinead.
Ryan.
It's not ringing a bell, no.
Ryan!
He lived in that big house beside the park.
Skinny fella. Dark hair.
Ryan. - Jesus.
Would Ryan have any other distinguishing features
that might jog his memory?
Like, I don't know, is he missing a limb?
Not a limb. A hand.
A fucking hand.
Oh!
Ryan.
Don't do that, mate.
Here.
Do you think that he still blames you for that?
Why would he blame Packy?
- It was his fault. - Conor, shut up.
Did you cut that fella's hand off, Packy?
No. Jesus.
Look, the reason Ryan is the way he is--
I mean, the reason he--
Can't clap?
Is because one night the shop we worked in got robbed.
Poor Ryan got shot in the hand.
While he was covering your shift.
Yeah, while he was covering my shift.
That doesn't make it my fault, Conor.
You dirty shrapnel dodging bastard.
That's shocking, Packy.
You think giving him a few quid from
your [inaudible] pub quiz is going
to make up for having him shot?
I didn't have him shot!
He took a bullet that was meant for you.
Fine.
Well, you can all let me make it up to him at the quiz tonight.
We can't.
We have plans.
You're not doing smack.
Let me make this very clear--
nobody will be doing any smack.
OK?
Jesus.
We're not going to that retarded quiz.
But it's for a good cause!
You're not going to guilt us into it.
We don't know fella at hand.
That quiz is nothing but a twat magnet,
and there is absolutely no way--
You can win a three liter bottle of vodka.
A three liter bottle of vodka?
What time does it start?
[beeping]
For Christ's sake.
Tyson-- he's getting rid of his ankle bracelet, you know?
I mean, that [inaudible] of him.
I'm so fucking snapping.
He's not coming to the quiz, is he?
What is your problem with Tyson?
It's not so much that I have a problem with--
Oh, is it because he thinks you're a cunt?
What?
He thinks I'm a cunt?
Why would you say that?
Because he called you a cunt.
Don't listen to him, Packy. He didn't call you a cunt.
He would never call you a cunt.
Good. Thank Christ.
Oh, no, wait. Actually, he might have done.
No. Yeah, he did.
He called you a cunt.
You didn't tell me?
No one wants to hear that they're a cunt, Packy.
Fuck.
[feedback]
Testing.
One, two-- yeah, OK.
Lovely stuff.
Right.
I'll run through the rules now, in just a second.
And if you've forgotten a pen, you
can purchase one from me for the princely sum of 60 pence.
Princely sum?
Fuck off and die.
I love that they give Packy a high chair.
Isn't it great that he has a high chair from them?
Yeah, that's for the picture round.
You have to guess who they are.
Well, I don't know about anyone else, but I am buzzing.
- Need your 250. - What?
- It's the entry fee. - Per team?
- Per person. - Fuck me.
How much does a plastic hand cost?
So when are we getting the vodka?
You have to win first.
Of course we're going to win.
You're in charge, aren't you?
I'm not fixing the quiz, Bronagh.
I beg your pardon?
I'm not helping you cheat.
I think I know the answer to this one.
Look.
That's Ms. O'Kane, isn't it?
Ms. O'Kane?
Our fourth form geography teacher?
- Yeah. - Why not?
Stick it down.
Cheers.
Why are you still wearing that?
The zipper's stuck.
I can't get it off.
Well, just rip if.
Bronagh says if I rip the dress,
she'll rip me a new hole.
So you just plan on keeping it on here?
For life?
Well--
Ryan!
Jesus, Packy, stop rubbing it in.
This is so good of you, Packy.
Not at all.
All right, Conor.
It's been ages.
Is that a frock?
Yeah.
French Connection.
So, Packy tells me they're giving you a robot.
Don't think I used the word robot.
Now, that's class.
It's actually a very frustrating,
complicated procedure.
Can you get more fingers?
Sorry?
Can you ask them to throw you in a couple of extra fingers,
or--
No, it'll just be the standard amount, finger wise.
That's a shame.
They missed a trick there.
Right.
Um-- why don't we get you set at your table
and, you know, away from him?
So Ryan, this is Bronagh.
Bronagh. Christ.
I didn't know you'd be here.
Have we met?
You don't remember?
You'd think I would.
Jackie Donnelly's Halloween party?
You were George Best, I was--
Captain Hook?
That was you?
Oh, Christ.
Captain Hook?
That's a good one.
What made you think of that?
Tyson.
Man, good to see you.
Just about to start--
Don't touch me.
So, should be a good night.
Don't know if Niamh's mentioned it,
but I'm trying to raise a bit of money for a friend of mine.
You had shot.
Yeah, she said.
I didn't have him shot.
- You calling Niamh a liar? - No.
No, definitely not doing that.
That would be mental.
Is Conor wearing a dress?
- Don't talk to me. - Suits him.
Yeah.
Oh, you came, then?
Of course I came.
I'm looking forward to this.
I'm really good at quizzes.
History's my favorite.
I like the Nazis.
Ah.
Isn't that good?
And finally, your team names should
be written on the top of your answer sheets,
beside where it says team name.
Jesus Christ, this is like a slow death.
Tyson, this is Ryan.
Ryan only has the one hand.
Show him, Ryan. Go on.
Yeah, Ryan.
Don't keep it a secret.
Show him your missing hand.
I can't show him my missing hand.
It's-- you know, missing.
Convenient.
Yeah, cause Packy went and had you shot, eh?
What? No.
There was a robbery.
- What an absolute cunt. - No.
It wasn't anything to do with Packy--
What happened--
I mean, you'd have to be a special kind of cunt
to have someone shot, don't you?
Absolutely.
The first thing you should do when they fit your fake one
is have a good, hard go on yourself.
I'm sorry?
It'll probably feel like someone
else is whacking your bar.
Jesus, Niamh, seriously, can we not talk about his cock?
Tell me this-- when you were shot, did it hurt much?
Well, yeah.
It did.
It was a bullet through my hand.
Interesting.
And did the hand come clean off, there and then?
Was it just like, lying on the floor, looking at you?
Actually, do you mind if we don't talk about this?
Sometimes it's still hard.
I try not to think about it, but sometimes it's
like I'm back there, and I'm staring
straight down the barrel of that thing again.
And-- I feel dizzy, and disoriented.
I feel like I might-- - Fascinating.
I'll get us another round, then.
When did dickhead get shot in the hand?
Why?
He's not a dickhead. - Why?
I'll tell you why.
I think that bastard had the cheek
to ride me with with one hand.
You rode Ryan?
- What's going on here, then? - Bronagh rode Ryan.
Jesus, Bronagh.
The fella's only been here five minutes.
It was years ago, cock swab.
Oh, right. What?
I can't remember how many hands he had at the time.
- How can you not remember? - Aye.
That's happened to me before.
He was dressed up as Captain Hook.
Crafty sly.
The foreign little fuck.
Jesus Christ, Bronagh. Come on.
Now that's out of order.
He's out of order?
He led me to believe he might have had two hands.
It's fraud, Packy.
I don't think it is fraud.
Well, it's not right.
We all tell little white lies when
we're trying to get the buck.
Says him a little white lie?
Just missing a fucking hand?
I'm gonna confront him about it.
How are you going to confront him?
How is that conversation going to go, exactly?
Well, I'll just say stop disguising your stump
and riding people.
You absolutely cannot say that.
That is a sentence that nobody should ever say.
Ever. - I'm saying it.
These people with one hand, they think they can
just get away with everything.
Bronagh, don't make a scene.
I am trying to do a nice thing here.
Don't ruin it. Please, for me.
Why the fuck would I do anything for you?
- Because I'm your friend. - Oh, catch yourself on.
Because I'll fix the quiz and make sure you the vodka.
Good man, yourself.
Question three.
Who is the Greek god of love?
You hear that?
That's a tough one.
Escargot.
That was a bad joke.
That was terrible.
11 inches.
But I will except clogs.
Isn't this great?
Question 40, who wrote Jane Eyre?
You lot need to up your game.
I'm answering all the questions here.
That's cause they've all been about English things.
Exactly. You have an advantage.
If they were Irish questions, we'd
wipe the floor with you, Tyson.
"Ulysses" is a novel by which Irish writer?
This is a barrel of balls.
I'll just Google it.
It's James Joyce.
I'm going to double check.
No offense, Ryan, but you've only got the one hand, so--
You can't Google the answer, Niamh.
I can.
The reception's good in here.
No, I mean it's cheating.
We can't cheat.
Why?
Well, it's not very honest, now, is it?
Oh, and honesty is important to you, is it, Ryan?
Yeah it is.
Really?
Yeah.
Look, just put the phone down, Niamh.
Please. - No.
Look, it doesn't matter.
We're still going to win it, anyway.
Brilliant.
The queue in the ladies' is absolutely ridiculous.
You're wearing a dress.
You're not actually a woman, you fuck tard.
Hold up.
What do you mean we're still going to win?
Packy's going to fix it.
What?
But that's against the rules.
Remind me, Tyson, what was it they locked you up for, again?
Was was excessive rule abiding?
Bronagh, he has a point.
It's not very fair.
You don't want to be starting on me about what's fair--
Nelson.
I'm not having any part of this.
Come on.
You talking to me?
Let's just get out of here.
But it's three liters of vodka.
Three.
What's more important, Niamh?
Me or a three liter bottle of vodka.
And question 10 was of course, "Right Here,
Right Now" by Fatboy Slim, AKA Mr. Norman Cook.
Listen, I just broke up with Tyson.
- Good. - Yeah.
But the thing is I sort of might have blames you.
You sort of might have what, now?
I said you told me to sack him because he's a Protestant.
What? But I didn't say that.
Right.
Well, that's not he thinks, is the thing.
Niamh, tell him I didn't say that.
I'm not going near him again, Packy.
He bores the tits off me.
He's going to actually kill me.
He did say that a fair few times.
Brilliant.
Thank you.
No problem.
All right, Packy?
How's it going?
Just heading out a window there, are you?
- Help me with this! - Hold on.
What are you doing?
Is that Tyson's bag?
What are you doing with Tyson's bag?
I'm not looking for smack!
That's just definitely one thing I'm not doing.
Sweet and gentle Jesus Christ.
I'm just-- I'm having a wee bit of a rummage.
Stop it. Get over here.
Help me. - There's nothing here.
Good. Now could you please--
Well, nothing except for the gun.
Huh?
Holy fuck.
I want a word with you.
You shouldn't be doing this.
It's our vodka.
We won it fair and square.
- The quiz isn't even over yet. - Where the fuck is it?
Why don't we just take three one liter bottles?
That's the same. - It's not the same, Niamh.
It is not the same at all.
This is wrong.
You know what else is wrong, Ryan?
Shoving a bit of your anatomy up a girl
without telling her that another bit of your anatomy is missing.
- What? - You rode me at that party.
You think we had sex?
I woke up beside you.
I was keeping an eye on you.
You were a mess.
I found you in a cupboard, trying to eat your own shoe.
I don't believe you.
Come off it, Bronagh.
You were dressed up as Georgie Best.
And besides, I had a girlfriend.
A girlfriend who now happens to be my wife.
Fuck balls!
You're not even wearing a ring.
I have no fucking hand!
I suppose. Fair enough.
He's got a gun!
[screaming]
Oh my god.
What's going on here now, lads?
Everybody just-- it's OK.
Just stay calm. - Christ.
No. This isn't happening.
Oh, Christ. - Is it a robbery, Packy?
Is it?
- Of course it's not a robbery. - Right.
It's just you've got a gun in your hand there.
- It's his gun! - Yeah.
And I want it back.
Please-- could somebody--
I can't breathe.
Just give the man his gun, Packy.
What?
So he can fucking shoot me with it?
Look, it's his gun.
What he decides to do with it is his business.
I can't breathe.
Seriously, Ryan, you're making an absolute tool of yourself.
Oh, Jesus.
That fella really needs to wise up.
Niamh, call an ambulance now.
Now!
- But I have hardly any credit. - It's all right.
It's free.
Grand.
It's definitely your fault this time.
Yeah.
Yeah, just a bit.
How's Ryan?
They had to sedate him.
He started having pretty bad flashbacks.
To happy days.
I don't think I'll go to your pub quiz again.
I didn't really enjoy it. Did you?
I've had more enjoyable smear tests.
It's like an exam in a pub.
Why would you want to take an exam in a pub?
They can just buzz off, quizzes.
Why, though, Bronagh?
I don't know.
I think they just love being on teams.
You know, quiz teams, darts teams, rowing--
fucking rowing.
They're not even going anywhere.
They're just rowing for the crack.
Me, Niamh, and Packy went rowing.
- No we didn't. - When did we go rowing?
At [inaudible] wedding.
Remember?
Everyone on the dance floor, and we all just started rowing.
Are you talking about rock the boat?
I do like a wee bit of rock the boat, now.
Rock the boat's not bad, but it's no macarena.
Well, I'm not familiar with that piece, Packy.
Aye, surely.
The macarena.
You know this one.
[music playing - "macarena"]
Tyson was right.
You are a cunt.
[music playing]
[music playing - "macarena"]