Original subtitles

Mate, I'm pretty sure I can smell booze on you.

Don't you not drink?

I have the odd drink now.

Okay.

Well, I'm not moving back here.

I don't want to die in Walthamstow.

You're not gonna die, and this isn't Walthamstow.

- This is Douglas. - Aloha.

Harita: She said you told her that she was too beautiful

to work in the same building as you.

Well, she told me that she wanted to suck my cock

until I passed out.

That kind of language is utterly inappropriate.

I fuckin' agree.

Harita: Plus, none of the autopsies showed conclusively

that it was triolaphan that killed those guys.

But it's time for us to tell the British public we're sorry.

Though we can't actually say that.

In other news, it's great to welcome Rob Norris

and his creative eye back.

Rob's been in Montreal these past few weeks

teaching a course in pharmaceutical marketing

at McGill University's School of Business.

Good to have you back, Rob.

It's good to be back.

Uh, I very much appreciate that gesture,

but we can't--

I massaged the truth a bit, so what?

Thought it might be easier that way.

- Thank you, I-- - I'll see you at the extended release

transdermal cyclobenzaprine meeting.

We should come up with an acronym for that,

'cause it takes a while to say.

I just wanted to say...

I'm back from Canada,

and it's good to be back.

Okay.

All right. I'll see you around.

♪♪

[knocking]

Fergal: Mate, are you gonna be there for a while?

There's a toilet downstairs.

That seat's rickety.

You might want to get it fixed.

Huh. Just winding you up.

Good one.

Ooh. Jesus!

Seriously, you might need to see a doctor.

He needs to not be in this house anymore.

What's he done now?

One of my core beliefs is that

I should be able to take a shit in my own home

without being bothered by a stranger.

He's doing you a favor.

Seriously, it cannot be good for you

sitting like that for hours with your arsehole open.

Something's gonna fall out one day.

- Or crawl in. - [chuckles]

- What time are you up? - I gotta get in early.

We have some MPs coming in that we have to bribe.

We fucked up on a clinical trial

and a little girl in Sheffield

grew an ear on her neck.

Yeah, but that's when you were on leave, right?

Yeah, I never would have signed off on that.

[chuckles]

What's it like being back?

- Is it horrible? - It's not wonderful.

Well, if it's any consolation,

you going back to a job you hate so we don't lose our home

gives me the massive horn.

That does sound nice.

I don't mean right now. Not now.

Had a big dinner.

Do you feel bad that neither of us

is gonna be with the kids now?

I mean, I went back to work and they had to get used to you,

and now you're, like, fuck you, I'm off, too.

What, fuck you, I need to earn money to support my family?

That's the opposite of fuck you.

- Fuck you. - Fuck off.

[chuckles]

We need to sort out a child minder, though.

Like a proper child minder if we're both working.

It was all right when Anna was our babysitter.

I mean, you're babysitter's supposed to be shit.

Yeah, all they have to do is put 'em to bed,

and then just sit there.

She doesn't just sit there.

You know when we went to see "Jason Bourne"?

When we got back, the living room smelled of sex.

No, it didn't.

Well, it at least smelled of solo sex.

Maybe she just microwaved a Findus Crispy pancake.

[chuckles] What's that thing on her neck now?

Is that a wound dressing?

Oh, I thought it was a nicotine patch.

Well, whatever it is, I don't want Muireann

peckin' it off and chewin' on it.

- [chuckles] - [cell phone rings]

Oh, it's Mum.

Hello.

[woman moaning]

- [knocking] - Don't come in!

Do you not see the sock on the doorknob, for fuck's sake?

Look, it's a normal thing that people do, okay? Relax.

Dad had a stroke.

What?

On the plane. [sniffling]

On the way home.

[sobbing] Fucking Ryanair.

♪♪

Ah, that's what that is.

We-- We were wondering what that was on your, um--

Sorry to hear about your dad.

Oh, thanks. Thanks for doing this.

I've gotta head over there and--

Did you know him well?

My Dad? Uh, yeah. Yeah.

So, you're going to Ireland now?

- Yeah, because-- - Yeah, they do it

pretty quickly over there, don't they?

I mean, my Irish cousin Mav, she died,

and you know how you lot do the open casket.

- I do, yeah. - Yeah, well, she was still warm,

and I thought it was because she was beside the radiator,

but, you know, I touched it and it wasn't even on.

Well, my dad's not dead. He just had a stroke.

Oh, great. Have a nice trip, then.

Okay.

[laughing]

Oh, hey, Margaret.

That's a nice blouse.

Uh, I would buy that for my wife.

- Pardon? - Tina,

I also like your blazer.

For my wife.

- Top cupboard. - Sorry?

If you're looking for coffee patches,

- they're in the top cupboard. - Thanks.

Oh, and they're all good.

I took the decaf packets and threw 'em away.

- Not on my watch. - Strong move, my man.

- Rafe Bales. - Rob Norris.

Yeah, I know. I started a few weeks ago.

I guess while you were teaching a course at McGill School of Business.

Sure. How you finding it?

Good. I mean, it's a good company.

Good folks. Tacos on the roof.

- Tacos on the roof? - Yeah.

They do tacos on the roof now.

On Fridays. It's awesome.

Do you like tacos?

Do I look like I like tacos?

You look like you enjoy a taco from time to time, yeah.

You better believe I do.

Well, I'll see you up there then.

I'll just finish making my coffee,

and then I will see you up there.

- On Friday. - That's what I meant.

- Okay. - All right.

'Cause the real issue is the ambulance from the airport

got caught up in the rugby match traffic,

you know, it was an exhibition match, yeah, France-Ireland,

so it was a pretty hot ticket, to say the least.

And that was at the same time the Ed Sheeran gig

was getting out of the RDS Arena, so you know,

traffic wise, he couldn't have picked a worse time to-- [chuckles]

But, uh, anyway, luckily, it wasn't that big of a stroke.

But, uh, because of his stroke last year--

What stroke last year?

His stroke was two days ago.

No, no, no, no, the first stroke.

Uh, the dementia you've spoken about

is almost certainly a consequence of the stroke he had last year.

What, this was his second stroke?

Yes.

Oh, great.

Oh, well, that-- that's great.

Well, he didn't want to make a fuss.

And it wasn't a big one.

It's not a fuss, he's my dad.

We need to know if our father's had a stroke.

You-- You're so secretive.

What the hell?

And what about you?

What do you mean, what about me?

Well, you're hardly an open book.

You kept the fact that you were seeing that Sinn Fein counselor

quiet for a long time.

What? I was 18, and it wasn't a Sinn Fein--

I'm just saying you're a bit of a dark horse yourself.

Jesus. Mum.

Even medically, I need to know, let alone--

You know Dad and I share genes.

I mean, you don't need to worry because--

- I don't need to worry? - No, I don't mean--

Look, I need to know if I'm gonna keel over and have a stroke one day

when I'm reading Frankie the fuckin' Gruffalo.

- Stokes aren't hereditary. - Oh, shut up, Fergal.

- No, no, he's correct. - Oh, and you would--

Okay.

Thanks.

♪♪

Honey, I'm home.

Yeah. What's up?

Well, uh, Fran told me about Sharon's dad,

and her going to Ireland and leaving you all alone,

so I thought I'd check in, make sure you hadn't gone full Winehouse.

Look, Chris, I don't need--

You told me more than once you had a problem with booze,

and when somebody tells you something about themselves,

I've learned it's a good idea to listen.

Look, there's a spectrum that we're all on--

A spectrum?

Christ, I haven't drunk today.

Do you want to smell my breath?

No. You want to smell my balls?

No, uh, but let me make you a cup of tea.

No, thank you. I have miles to go before I sleep.

I like your tattoo, what is it?

It's a female panther.

I like your jacket.

All right, let's go in.

♪♪

Carol: I should have known when he said

he could smell strawberries.

Fresh fruit on Ryanair. That'll never happen.

Some chance.

They didn't even make an announcement.

But credit to Des, he did stroke quite quietly.

He doesn't like to make a fuss.

When Harry had his stroke,

he knocked over a display pyramid

of Pepsi Max in the supermarket.

Well, there's no good place to have one.

Are you still in your mum's place?

Yeah. God. Grimsville, Idaho,

but still, it's only a dart and two buses to see the girls.

Yeah.

God, Fergal's lookin' well, isn't he?

I found this. Look. [chuckles]

Where's that from?

Oh, Sharon used to be a flight attendant

for retarded slut airlines.

[laughing]

St. Mary's step's ball.

Look at the state of ya.

[laughs] How are you, Fergal?

I haven't seen you since the wedding.

Eh, all right. You still with houseboat Harry?

Oh, God, no, no, I left him when he hit me.

What? You never told me that. He hit you?

Yeah. Well, I mean, he hit me with the thing he threw at me.

Threw his iPod shuffle at me.

So I just left. Left all my stuff,

and I just walked out in the middle of the night.

- Well, I mean, that's great. - Well, actually,

I mean, I went back the next night to get my purse.

Oh, no. Of course.

And to sink his boat.

I sank his boat.

You still married?

I just remembered I left a joint

under the floorboard of my bedroom 20 years ago.

[chuckles] Well, what are we doing down here?

You okay? Do you want a cup of tea?

Oh, you're talking to me now.

Mum, I was never not talking to you.

I was just not looking at you.

I'm going to check on your father.

Fergal's looking well.

Thank you.

♪♪

Hi again.

Man, you'd better shut me off

or there won't be any carne asada left for anybody else.

That's a real possibility.

- You can't beat this. - You really can't.

Costs about 600 pounds a week to do,

but in fact, this is the type of shit that makes your employees

hang around two to three months longer on average.

Which can save a company tens of thousands over a fiscal year

in training and recruitment fees.

Also, people like tacos.

How many tacos have you had?

- Oh, actually, I don't-- - Cheers.

Thanks.

[indistinct chatter]

Hey.

Hey. Chris.

Remember me?

I'm still legally married to your girlfriend.

Yeah, I remember you. You want a beer?

No, thank you.

I just thought we should have a little chat,

because you're spending a fair amount of time in my house with my son,

and I don't care for it.

- Really? - Yeah.

I'm not wild about you.

I suppose you could say I wish you ill.

- Is that right? - Yeah.

Although, you have choices.

The good news is that you're at a fork in the road.

One path, the one that I recommend,

could lead to any number of places,

some lovely, some peaceful.

- There you go. - Thank you so much.

The other path is a bad path.

If you were to choose this path,

you better hope the next person to walk it is a forensic dentist,

so they can identify your fuckin' skull,

and your mother has something to bury in the family plot.

Blah, blah, blah, blah blah, blah, blah.

[indistinct]

What are you gonna do?

Bring along a little stepladder, climb up on it,

and punch me in the tits to death?

Oh, you can save me the "Braveheart" shit.

Consider your goal achieved.

Some nut job ex interrupting my chicken Caesar wrap?

Fuck that noise.

I was gonna dump her anyway.

Now I don't even have to do that.

Leave Shelly a nice tip.

She's my favorite bartender.

Oh, Dad.

Where's my fuckin'--

♪♪

Why don't I get a fucking letter?

Rob: That's Mike.

He's 28 and he's got four kids.

I think he's, like, Amish or Mormon.

Whichever one of those does that.

[chuckles] What's her name?

Rob: That's Tina.

How much do you think she weighs?

I don't know. 70 pounds less than me.

[chuckles]

Okay, so say there's a nuclear attack, right?

And everyone's dropped dead except you and Harita.

How long before you'd fuck her?

I mean, that'd be up to her, because I would never--

Well, first off, did my wife get killed in this nuclear attack,

because if she wasn't dead, I'd go and try and save her.

No, no, no, your family are dead. They died instantly.

They were vaporized. You know, it's painless.

Oh, then I wouldn't be horny because I'd be sad.

Oh, all right, Morrisey.

[laughs] Fat Morrisey.

Oh, Jesus, come on, man. Fuck, I'm not that fat.

That's like the third thing you'd notice about me.

I mean, first, I'm tall.

Second, I'm very friendly.

And then maybe you'd notice that I'm slightly overweight.

[laughs] Slightly.

So, what's it been like coming back after, you know--

After Canada?

After you got busted for trying to bone that French girl in your office.

I didn't do anything like that.

- And how do you-- - Oh, no, no, no.

Everyone here knows you got suspended for sexual misconduct.

It was a fuckin' mutually agreed leave of absence,

and a misunderstanding. All right?

Keep your voice down.

Bobby. Cat's out of the bag on this one, mate.

You might as well make lemonade.

[laughing] Hello?

Uh, where you goin'?

I gotta let the babysitter go.

I'd wait half an hour before I fucked Harita.

[sighs]

[indistinct chatter]

Sharon: This happens all the time.

I mean, I get looked over every time.

I'm a good daughter.

I-- I sent Father's Day cards.

I-- I buy the birthday presents.

Do you know how he knows when your birthday is?

- Because I fuckin' tell him. - [scoffs]

I'm the oldest child, I'm the first born.

Dad's known me four more years than he's known Fergal.

Well, maybe he was writing yours and then, you know,

he had a stroke in the middle of it.

Yeah, maybe, but why did he write yours first?

My letter should have come first.

What if the last letter Dad ever writes is to Fergal?

- You're being ridiculous. - No, I'm not.

What's ridiculous is this family not acknowledging the truth.

Mum, I think what Sharon's trying to say is

- we can't handle the truth. - Oh, fuck off, Fergal.

- No, you calm down. - I am calm,

but this is bullshit.

Do you know how it feels to play second fiddle to that prick all my life?

- Hang on. - Do you have any idea

what that does to your confidence?

Do you know how many terrible men I've had to sleep with

because Dad loves that asshole more than me?

Not-- Not many, actually,

but, you know, this is really upsetting.

I'm really upset.

Where's all the--

Where's all the photos of me and my kids?

There's just Fergal's everywhere.

It's like Fergal, Fergal, Fergal.

It's like a fuckin' Fergal shrine in here.

My hand's in that photo and that's it.

Actually, I don't think that is your hand.

You weren't there that day.

You don't send me any photos.

Mum, I constantly email you photos of me and the kids.

Yeah, what am I supposed to do with those?

Fergal sends me photographs already framed.

What?

Oh, my God. You're a psychopath.

You don't send a 65 year old with dial-up a bunch of jpegs.

That's like asking a fucking haddock

to do a suduki. Sudoku. Whatever the fuck.

It is-- Because he's the son?

Does that make him more important?

I'm going to let you get this out of your system

and go and check on Des.

Or is it because he embezzled money from my husband?

Rob lent me money and I'm paying him back.

Or is it because-- Is it because you're so proud of his bags,

since his actual business went under?

Or is it because he left his wife

because he's scared of Spain?

Mum, I didn't tell you about the business

because I didn't want you to worry about me.

I want you to be proud of me.

I told Sharon because I don't care what she thinks.

And that stuff about Mallandra,

I mean, that was just--

I didn't mean any of that. You know?

Dad getting sick has changed everything.

I'm going back to Spain.

I just want to sell man bags and be a good dad.

Well, it's all out in the open now.

I am proud of you. I always will be.

He's got drugs hidden under the floorboards in his bedroom.

♪♪

- [door opens] - [keys jangling]

Sorry I'm late.

Do you-- Do you have my wallet?

No.

I have it.

You're giving me-- You're giving me too much.

[groaning]

You all right?

No, I'm gonna throw up.

- Well, don't lie down. - It's fine.

I'm just gonna re-- relax a little bit,

and do it later.

Do you still need me tomorrow?

Rob.

Did you make pancakes?

Smells like...

- fucking good. - No.

Look, Muireann's not long gone to sleep,

so just keep an ear out, yeah?

[baby fussing]

[sighs]

♪♪

Don't worry. You slept there.

I slept in Muireann's room.

All right, so the money you overpaid me last night,

just about covers me staying over.

I'll see you later.

You should have a shower,

or walk through a car wash or something.

You really smell.

[door opens]

[sniffing]

Do you want a cup of tea?

Great. I'll have one, too.

I'm sorry.

[knocking]

How'd you know where I live?

I've dropped you off here like 25 times.

All right, fair enough.

What do you want?

You left these in Muiranne's room last night.

All right. Thanks.

Listen, I'm really sorry about last night,

and I'm not telling you not to tell Sharon, but--

I-- I ain't tellin' Sharon.

You think she fuckin' won't kill the messenger?

Right.

And look, um, this isn't a bribe,

uh, or a pay off.

It's just a way to say thank you for--

I mean, what you did last night was--

I mean, I always thought you were a fine babysitter,

but now I know--

I can't feel sorry for you.

You know, I missed a date because of you last night.

Oh, man. I'm really sorry.

I-- I mean, you can always go around there now maybe.

Can I?

Or do you think his girlfriend's around there now?

I'm sorry.

I--

[sighs]

♪♪

Daddy.

[knocking]

I need help.

How did you know?

How did I know what?

He's dead.

He died.

- Fergal? - Dad.

My Dad.

Oh, Christ.

Oh, honey.

♪♪