Original subtitles

[music playing]

[theme music]

[dive bomb sound]

[explosion]

[birds chirping]

MAN (ON TELEVISION): It really is extraordinary.

Strange, short emissions which the patient shouts

out seemingly involuntarily.

Fart!

Arse!

Arse!

[inaudible].

Carolers?

Dougal, there's nothing on.

Why don't you read a book or something?

DOUGAL MCGUIRE: All right.

No, Dougal.

Read a different book.

Actually, Ted.

It's been a few minutes.

I'll see if there's anything good on now.

Honestly, Dougal.

You've got to broaden your mind a little bit.

What are you reading, anyway?

Actually, I'm rereading it.

William Shatner, "Tech Wars."

[music playing]

Oh, no. This idgit.

(SINGING) My lovely me own mammy, so gentle and so wise.

Rocking on your rocking chair, baking cakes and pies.

My lovely me own mammy.

My lovely, lovely me own mam.

Eek!

It's Eoin!

Oh!

Oh, Father.

Isn't he lovely?

He's a brilliant dancer as well.

Eh.

[applause]

Now it's time to announce the winner of my fabulous poetry

competition. MRS. DOYLE: Oh.

EOIN MCLOVE: You had to write a poem about me,

and the prize is that I call round to the winner's

house for a lovely cup of tea.

TED CRILLY: God, can you imagine that?

Oh, god.

So over I go to my poetry corner.

OK, here it is.

This week's winner.

"Eoin McLove is his name.

Singing songs is his game.

Someday I will say hello, and for a cup of tea we will go."

CROWD: Aw.

And the winner is Mrs. O'Neil from Kildare.

And it says here she's 110 years old.

And she also asks me what my favorite things in the world

are.

And I'd have to say, well, uh, jumpers and, uh, cakes.

Oh, no.

What's this?

It's a little puppy with a broken paw.

CROWD: Aw.

I'd better go home and nurse it back to health.

Goodbye, everybody.

CROWD: Bye!

TED CRILLY: Hard luck, Mrs. Doyle.

Maybe next time.

There's one of his songs reminds

me of the time my husband--

I've said too much.

I'll just Go and listen to his latest album.

He's brilliant!

[laughs].

Women.

Where?

No, I-- I mean women.

Oh, right.

Yeah.

Women.

Tchyeah.

Tchyeah.

You can't live with them, and you can't live without them.

Yeah.

But there definitely aren't any women in here.

No, you're fine.

Do you know what?

I could write a poem and send it into that show.

Let's be honest.

The poetry Mrs. Doyle writes is bound to be hopeless.

What would you write about?

Well, Dougal.

Inspiration can come from so many places.

[music playing]

[knocking]

[melancholy music]

[door slam]

MRS. DOYLE: Ah!

TED CRILLY: No, no, no, no.

Father Nolan was in the gas explosion.

Punched a hole in his chest the size of a football.

When they found him afterwards, they were only able to identify

him by his dental records.

Poor Father Nolan.

Yes, he's very low at the moment.

(MUMBLING) Eoin McLove's coming to Craggy Island.

He's coming to Craggy Island.

Calm down, Mrs. Doyle. Let it-- what was that again?

Eoin McLove's coming to Craggy Island.

He's coming to Craggy Island and he read out my poem.

Your poem?

Well, I-- I wrote it as a surprise, but it was my poem.

No, no.

It's mine.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Doyle.

I don't think so.

What was the first line?

"Eoin McLove has a happy face."

- That's not my poem. - No.

It's mine!

[laughs]

I'm hugely confused, Ted.

The only thing I can think of that must have happened

is that Mrs. Doyle's poem was better than yours.

Well, that couldn't be, could it?

That your poem was actually worse than Mrs. Doyle's?

That just couldn't happen, could it, Ted?

[music playing]

Could it?

- When's he coming? - [shriek]

When's he coming? Tell us.

I can't.

It's a secret.

Thursday.

Friday.

Saturday?

Sunday?

Aha.

He wouldn't want anybody to know.

You won't tell anyone, will you?

I swear I won't tell anyone.

May I be struck down with every disease

that it is known for middle age woman to suffer from.

As you and I know, Mrs. Doyle, that's

a hell of a lot of diseases.

[mumbling]

[morse code tapping]

[mumbling]

[typing]

[mumbling]

[pigeons cooing]

[wings flapping]

[mumbling]

[boat engine]

[clicking]

[boat engine]

[mumbling]

Eek!

I think he's just pulled up, Ted.

The good news is he can only afford

a crappy blue Ford Cortina.

Imagine going around in that thing.

- That's my car. - Oh, right.

Still, you know what I mean.

Mrs. Doyle! He's here!

Is this the place?

What is it, some kind of mental hospital?

No, it's a parochial house.

This week's winner is the priest's housekeeper.

Better prepare the ground.

So what's the story, then?

Do I have to walk to the door?

PATTY: Yes.

I have to walk to the door meself?

Yes, Eoin.

You have to walk to the door yourself.

Mr. McLove will not allow any photographic record

of the event apart from one official picture

for advertising purposes.

Mr. McLove will not sign autographs in ink.

Mr. McLove is not an equal opportunity employer.

[phone ringing]

Hello?

MAN (ON PHONE): Hello, is Patty there?

Yes, Eoin. This is Patty.

This is Eoin here.

I'm in the hall now.

Is someone going to let me in, or will I knock on the door,

or what?

Now, Dougal, he's our guest.

Let's do this for Mrs. Doyle.

Yeah, I know.

I know.

I'm Eoin McLove.

That's who I am.

Hello, Eoin.

You're very welcome.

PATTY: Right.

Well, I'll leave you alone then.

I talk to these two?

Yes, Eoin.

What'll I do if the old one says something

and I don't know what to say back to him?

PATTY: Just-- just--

I don't know.

What about the thick looking one?

He's looking a bit weird.

PATTY: Eoin!

I smell wee.

Where's that from?

It's this one here.

This one smells of wee.

[growling]

Best step away there.

So where's the winner then so I can go home and have me tea?

Actually, you can have your tea here.

Uh, Mrs. Doyle!

[clattering]

[glass breaking]

Hello.

[thud]

Brilliant.

She fell on her arse.

[supernatural music]

[music playing]

EOIN MCLOVE: 58 59, 60.

Right.

That's your 20 minutes up. I'm off.

Don't try to stop me. - Um, Eoin.

Uh, did you enjoy your tea?

EOIN MCLOVE: But-- yeah.

I don't know.

Whatever.

I want to go now.

It's getting dark.

You're not afraid of the dark, are you?

It's only because the sun goes, uh, it-- it--

there's this-- it-- it--

it's got something to do with clouds.

I want to get out.

How do you get out?

Eoin, before you go, uh, was there another poem

that was very good this week?

What-- no.

Are you sure?

The only other one I remember was from this lunatic.

We had to call the police in because it was so demented.

No, that-- that couldn't be it, no.

Anyway, I'm going to stop talking to you

now because I don't know what else to say to you.

Hello, is Patty there?

Eoin, you don't need to keep talking to me on the mobile,

you know. I'm right beside you.

EOIN MCLOVE: What? This is a very bad line.

Patty?

Oh, no.

Not again.

[chirping and cooing]

Ladies, go on home now.

Nothing to see here.

Go away, you big pile of dirty old biddies.

Eoin.

TED CRILLY: I'm afraid we can't stay around to chat.

I have a very important baptism tomorrow.

The baby has a very big head, and it may not fit in the font.

It's like a big tide of jam coming towards us,

but jam made out of old women.

I've got a bad feeling about this.

I think we'd better get back in the house.

Go away.

I don't want to catch the menopause.

[cooing]

Let me in!

Let me in!

[shrieks]

Oh.

That was close.

[wood cracking]

- Dougal! - Hello!

TED CRILLY: No, I don't mean hello.

I mean help!

DOUGAL MCGUIRE: Oh, right.

Ah!

Actually, Dougal, that's my hand.

Try hitting the women's hands.

OK.

Sorry, Ted.

[smacking]

[clock ticking]

[rattling]

[clank]

PATTY: Hello?

Hello?

The battery's dead.

What about your phone?

They've cut the lines.

They lie in wait like wolves.

The smell of blood in their nostrils.

Waiting.

Interminably waiting.

And then--

He's right, Ted.

What do they want?

I think they just want to mother him.

To be honest, he's got nobody to blame except himself.

I mean, when you've got album covers like this,

you know, you're just asking for trouble.

I'm no good at judging the size of crowds,

but I'd say there's about 70 million of them out there.

[clattering]

I'm hungry.

Where's the jam?

You're not supposed to eat before your dinner.

EOIN MCLOVE: You shut up.

I'm Eoin McLove.

I can do what I like.

I've got a terrible secret. - Do you?

- Yeah. - What is it?

I'm not telling you.

Eoin!

What?

Don't eat the jam from the jar.

You leave me alone.

I can have you killed.

Get out!

I-- I was just cleaning the spoon.

[clock ticking]

[paper ripping]

I can't stand it.

They're so quiet.

Why are they so quiet? EOIN MCLOVE: Patty.

What do you want?

What do you want?

[shriek]

[glass breaking]

Ah!

It's all right.

She's one of us.

[mumbling]

What? What?

Yes, yes.

Eoin, um, Mrs. Doyle wants to know, would you like a cake?

Who?

Mrs. Doyle, this woman here.

Oh, right.

[mumbling]

It's banana.

She says she knows it's your favorite.

Oh god, yeah. I love that.

I'll eat that. No one else is getting any.

This is all for me.

Just hold on.

MRS. DOYLE: Oh!

[mumbling]

- Oh my god. - What's happening?

I'm scared.

I-- I don't know how to tell you this, but, um,

Mrs. Doyle, in an unusual move, has baked a jumper in the cake.

I'm going to get sick.

This is terrible.

This is the worst thing that's ever happened to me.

I'm not wearing a cake jumper.

This is horrible.

Yuck!

[crying]

I'll eat the cake, though.

[clock ticking]

We have to get him out of here.

You know what we need?

Something to lead them away from him so he can escape.

Some kind of misleading event, but, um, what could it be?

I know!

A diversion.

That's what it's called, a diversion.

I know what it's called.

I didn't ask what it's called.

I want to know what the diversion should be.

Come on, come on.

Ideas, ideas.

[clattering]

[mumbling]

Fake! Fake!

Arse!

Arse!

Yes. Thank you, Father Jack.

I think we need more concrete ideas than that.

What do old women like?

Do you know what they really, really love, Ted?

A big game of bingo!

Why don't we just lure them into some kind of giant bingo game?

Right.

How do we do that?

Well, we could, uh, print up some bingo cards

on our printing press, and then we--

oh.

Yes.

It's the, uh, lack of a printing press that lets us down there,

Dougal.

Or bingo balls.

Or a microphone.

Or, in fact, any bingo paraphernalia at all.

Damn, so near and yet so far.

[banging]

What?

No.

No way.

Go on home! Shoo!

Oh, Father.

We just wanted to tell you that was a brilliant mass

you did last Sunday.

Oh, well-- well, thank you.

I-- I was very happy with the sermon, actually.

Oh, yes.

How did it start again?

Ah, let's see.

What was it?

I think it was the actor Nick Berry who said--

Oh, sorry, Father.

Uh, we can't hear you very well through the window.

Right.

I think it was the actor Nick Berry who said that--

Oh!

There he is!

He's asleep!

CROWD: Aw.

Isn't he lovely?

You're not interested in my sermon at all!

What's going on?

Why is the window open?

TED CRILLY: Can't hold them back!

Upstairs! Get upstairs!

CROWD: Eoin.

Eoin.

Eoin! Eoin.

TED CRILLY: Back!

Back!

CROWD: Eoin.

Eoin.

Oh, god.

What are we going to do now?

CROWD: Eoin.

Eoin.

Eoin.

Eoin.

Eoin.

Eoin.

Eoin.

What are we going to do?

I'm not so worried for ourselves, Father.

But the little ones.

They have their whole lives ahead of them.

[door breaking]

[music playing]

[rooster crowing]

MRS. DOYLE: Stop!

Stop!

Ladies, it's after 7 o'clock.

I think your husbands might be wondering

where their breakfasts are.

TED CRILLY: Mrs. Doyle's right.

Remember last year, Mrs. Dunn.

Your husband tried to wash a cup and burnt the house down.

And Mrs. Collins, when Mr. Collins tried to make the bed

on his own and lost a leg.

Surely you can't let them get through a day on their own.

Go on home.

[supernatural music]

Hup, hup.

Can I have this duck?

[music playing]

Right.

We're off.

Eoin, did you have those suitcases

with you when you came? - No.

They're yours.

I just liked a lot of stuff here,

so I thought I'd pack it up and take it off with me.

Oh, that's very cheeky.

Well, I'm taking everything, and that's that.

Come on, Patty.

I'm sorry he's been so much trouble, Father.

I think a lot of it has to do with his problem.

Oh, yes.

He mentioned something about that earlier.

What is his problem? - I have no willy.

Right.

Don't you have something to say to Mrs. Doyle?

EOIN MCLOVE: Oh, uh, thanks for the cake jumper.

[smooch]

[thud]

There's bloody cake bits all over the place.

Father, you've been so kind to us.

Would you like to come up to the show next week?

Father McGuire was telling me you're always

trying to get on television.

No, no.

That's-- that's not true.

It is true, Ted.

You're always trying to get on television.

You told me it was your number one ambition in the world.

Did I?

I-- I might have said that.

Joking probably.

Anyway-- I-- I actually couldn't be bothered.

There's a new part in the show.

We get an audience member to take part in a quiz.

There's a cash prize.

I'll do it.

Well, Father.

You've got four out of five right

on your specialist subject, William Shatner's "Tech Wars."

So if you get the general knowledge question right,

the 500 pounds will be yours.

CROWD: Ooh.

Oh, no.

People will think this is rigged.

John Paul II.

What was his name before he became Pope?

[theme music]

Jim?