All language subtitles for The.Butcher.Boy.1997.WEBRip.x264-ION10

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Why you, Francie?

Why?

It'd have broken
your poor mother's heart.

I'm sorry, Mr. Leddy.

When I was a young lad,
20 or 30 or 40 years ago...

I lived in a town
where they were all after me...

on account of what I had done
on Mrs. Nugent.

If she hadn't poked her nose in
between me and Joe...

everything would have been all right.

Me Geronimo. Who are you?

Sitting Bull.

Let's do a war cry.

Now look around for white man.

Of all the wrong things I done,
I suppose the apples were the first.

They started all the trouble.

And Francie Brady didn't need
any old snake to give him one.

He robbed them himself.

- Francie!
- Come on, Joe. Come on.

What do you mean, come on?

Come on, it's not that high.

- Don't worry, kemosabe, I got you.
- Fuck.

Come on, Francie, get a move on.
Come on!

Yeah, all right, Joe.

How many have we got now?

Just keep shaking, Francie.

- I'll shake the living shit out of her, Joe.
- Another 100 and we're right.

- Nugents aren't gonna get the better of us.
- No way, boy.

And who butts in, only Phillip Nugent...

his head full of amazing facts,
like the boiling point of water...

and the number of eyes on a fly head.

Sure, it's yourself, Phillip, isn't it?

Doing a bit of reading, now?

Comics, Francie.

We've got to have them, Joe.

Tell you what, Phillip. We'll swap.

One of your ma's Cox's Pippins
for all of them comics.

It's only fair, Phillip.

Now, Joe, he isn't really that bad.

- What are you doing? Get out!
- Jesus, Francie, it's Mrs. Nugent.

- Run, Joe, run!
- Fuck!

It has got nothing to do
with knowing kids or anything else!

I knew the kind of you lot
long before I went to England.

- Well...
- And I should've had more sense...

than to let my Phillip
near the likes of him.

I mean, not that it's
the poor child's fault.

What do you expect from a house
where the father's never in?

Lying about in pubs
from morning till night.

He's no better than a pig!

It is small wonder
that the boy is the way he is.

What chance has he got,
living in a pigsty?

But if he's seen near my Phillip again,
there'll be trouble. Mark my words.

Pigs!

That's all youse are!

The whole town knows that.

Pigs.

It's that old Mrs. Nugent.
What are we gonna do about her?

I don't know, but be Christ,
I know what I'm going to do with you!

Stop it, Jim. Will you stop it, please?

Well, I don't know if me da
was a pig or not...

but one thing she was right about,
he sure could drink.

He was the best drinker in the town.

And how. Man has realized his dream.

Now he must control it.

What would you do, Joe, if you won
a million billion trillion dollars?

I'd buy a million billion trillion
Flash bars, Francie.

Hey, fish, do you know
what I'm going to tell you?

Fuck off.

Now, fish, what do you think of that?

Hey, come back with my arrow.

Do you know you were only
5 pounds weight...

when you were born, Francie?

Ma... what's the chair
doing on the table?

You'd never let me down, Francie,
would you?

You know I wouldn't, Ma.

I'm away off up the town now, Francie.

I have to get the baking started
for your Uncle Alo's Christmas party.

You dropped your tablets, Ma.

Dr. Boyd said they'd cure me.

I think they're making me worse.

Come on, Annie.

I'm so sorry.

Well, there you go, Joe.
That's Ma off on her travels, then.

Where is she off to, Francie?

They say she had a breakdown, Joe.

What's a breakdown?

That's when you're took off to the garage,
when the truck comes and tows you away.

I'll tell you,
there's some craic in this town.

There sure is. The garage.

"Hand me down a spanner, Mike?
I think Mrs. Brady's ankle needs tightening."

Joe.

Do you think the one-armed man did it?

Well, you know, he probably did.

That bastard. I'm gonna kill him.

Now, the thing about Mrs. Nugent is
she came back from England...

with all these airs and graces and
walked around as if she owned the town.

But here's one little pig
that's going to teach her different.

There you are, Mrs. Nugent and Phillip.

- Just let me by, please.
- Of course, but that'll be a shilling.

- A shilling?
- Yeah.

- What are you talking about?
- And half for Phillip.

So there's 1 shilling for you and sixpence
for Phillip, all together one and six.

One and six, please.

You don't have to pay money
to go by here.

Sorry, Mrs. Nugent, but a tax is a tax.

If you don't pay it, it's not gonna
be fair for everybody else, is it?

Tax? What are you talking about, tax?

The pig toll tax, Mrs. Nugent.

I've work to do,
I can't sit about here all day.

So come on, now,
1 shilling plus sixpence.

Would you run away home now
and stop all this nonsense?

Tell you what, Mrs. Nugent.

I'll let you go this time,
but you remember, now...

in future, you make sure
you have that pig toll tax ready.

And I ain't fooling, Mrs. Nooge.

Do you know what it is?
It's a bad state of affairs...

when people won't pay a tax to get by.

- What tax is that, now, Francie?
- Don't you start with me, Joe.

Thank you, Mr. Leddy.

I swear, it was mad... Hello, Mr. Leddy.

Francie.

There you are, now, ladies.

Francie, there you are.

Well, I'm nowhere else, ladies.

Could I have two tins of sardines
and a loaf of bread?

- How's your mother, Francie?
- She's flying.

She's in the garage and it won't be long
till she's home. They'll give her a service.

"Hand me down a spanner, Mike.
I think Mrs. Brady's head needs tightening."

Francie. Francie, that's a good one.

Keeping the home fires burning, Francie?

The incredible Francie Brady.

Now, if you ladies will excuse me...

I must be off up to town
on toll-tax business.

Toll tax? I never heard of that, Francie.
What would that be?

It's invented by me.
But of course, Nugent won't pay it.

You might as well try to get
blood from stone.

- Nugent? Mrs. Nugent?
- Be it on her own head...

she'll not get by so easy the next time...
Getting by? Getting by where, Francie?

On the footpath, where else?

There's no denying it, Francie,
you're a rare character.

I know.

It's a dud.
It's a dud from the day we got it.

A fucking dud, Da, that's what it is.

I should have known better
than to trust the likes of Traynor.

He'll not sell me a dud television
and get away with it.

Work!

Be Christ, it'll not best me!

"Your father was a great man one time,"
they'd say.

Be Christ, a great musician.

He could have been someone.
Sure, hadn't he met Eddie Calvert?

"And who the fuck
is Eddie Calvert?" I'd ask them.

Well, that's the end
of the cowboys, I guess.

Da, there's nothing but dry bread
in the house.

There's not even a rasher.

Are you deaf?

I guess it's all down to Francie now.

The incredible Francie Brady.

No more cowboys, Joe.

Cowboys, good luck.

Why not, Francie?

Da. He fixed the telly good and proper.

We won't be seeing John Wayne
around here again.

Hack at a bit of ice, there, Francie, go on.

Hacking away, boys?

Hacking away, now, Father.

That's a cold one. Would you say
that's a cold one, young Brady?

I'd say it's the coldest yet.

- The coldest yet, he says.
- He does.

He does.

How's your father?

The best. Never better.

Good, good,
and your mother will be home soon?

She will. She'll be back
on the road by Christmas.

She has to get the cakes ready
for Uncle Alo's party.

Uncle Alo.
Now, this town should be proud of him.

Your mother told me about the great job
he has in London.

Aye, 10 men under him.

Well, I best be off.

I have the good Lord here
for Benny Maguire.

Good luck, now.

What does Benny Maguire
want with the good Lord?

I think he fell off his buckrake.

Them buckrakes are a curse.

Richard Kimble ponders his fate
as he looks at the world for the last time...

and sees only darkness.

But in that darkness,
fate moves its huge hand.

Go on, fugitive. Go on, run!

You're only a hoppity bastard,
one-armed man.

Yeah, hoppity bollocks.

- At least Richard Kimble has two arms.
- The Fugitive.

Fuck! It's the hoppity bitch!

Now, if there's one thing
worse than a pig...

it's a bogman up from the country
for the day to do the Christmas shopping.

We'd see them in the cafe with their caps
and their boots and their bony arses.

They called it dancing.
It looked more like wading through manure.

What's that dance they're doing, Francie?

It's called the bogman tango, Joe.

The bogman tango?

Out with the backside, up with the nose.

Well, here's me face
and me arse is coming.

The incredible Joe Purcell,
ladies and gentlemen...

and his partner, Francie Brady.

The bogman tango.

- Francie!
- Ma! Hi, Ma!

Look at you, God!

Ma, by cripes,
that must be some garage, sergeant.

- Back on the road, better than ever, Ma?
- Better than ever.

Come on, I've got something
to show you. Come on, now.

Thank you, sergeant, for taking me home.

Anything we can do for you, Annie.
You know that.

Thank you.

Come on, Ma. Come on.

I've got a surprise for us.

Back from the garage,
there was no holding Ma.

Whiz here one minute, there the next,
and hadn't she bought the bogman record...

they were playing in the cafe,
and that's when the buns began.

Uncle Alo was coming home for Christmas
from his big job in London...

and the house started filling up with
cakes and buns for the Christmas party.

Cakes, cakes, cakes.

Buns, buns, buns.

My ma, the bun woman.

I ask you, Joe,
how many cakes can Uncle Alo eat?

Beats the hell out of me, compadre.

I see what you mean.

- See you, Joe.
- See you, Francie.

Well, if I heard that "Butcher Boy" once,
I heard it a hundred times.

And if she said to me,
"Would you like to hear it again?"...

I know what I would have said:
"No, thank you."

I couldn't even get a ham sandwich!

I'm fucking starving!

Is that what they do to you
in the garage, Ma?

Turn you into a cake machine?

Alo loves cakes.

If it's one thing your uncle loves,
it's cake.

And butterfly buns.

You're right. I'll make some more.

The men. Hard at it.

- Hard at it, he says.
- He does.

I don't suppose there's room
for an old fellow like myself?

Sure, any amount, Father.

So nothing strange, anyway, lads?

I tell you, if Uncle Alo doesn't come soon,
the house is gonna burst.

How's it going to burst, Francie?

With cakes.
Not to mention butterfly buns.

Nothing but the best for Uncle Alo.

Coming all the way
from his job in London.

Ten men under him.

Ten men under him.

Uncle Alo! Fuck!

- Merry Christmas, Father.
- God bless you, now.

- See you, Joe.
- See you, Francie.

Aye. I don't know
what they must've thought of us.

A right-looking tribe
to be landing in Bundoran.

Not to mention this man here.
Wasn't he the star of the show?

Playing the trumpet every night
for them below in the parlor.

- Am I right, Annie?
- That's right, surely, Alo.

I heard, now, I heard all about it.
Isn't that right, Charlie?

Indeed it is.

The sun shone out of Benny Brady
for Mrs. Thompson.

The lovebirds, she used to call them.

- Aye, the lovebirds. The bucking lovebirds.
- Alo.

Aye, and he played the trumpet
every night of the honeymoon.

Isn't that right, Benny?

Well, I daresay I played a few
wee tunes, all right.

Indeed you did, and that's not all.
Would I be right, Charlie?

You're right, all right.
Look at this here, girls, look.

Bold Benny, myself and Annie
were going along the beach.

- God.
- And comes out this fellow. "Two and six."

"Two and six," says the man, "and you
can be king of the jungle."

Well, I tell you, girls,
you've never seen the like of it.

Benny here with his head stuck out
through the cardboard hole...

and the body of Tarzan on him.

And he was shouting,
"I'll get you, McGlone," he says.

- "I'll get you!"
- "I'll get you, McGlone."

"I'll get you!"

Is that true, Da?
You in the Tarzan's body?

Some Tarzan now.

Some Jane.

Man. It was the best holiday
May and me ever spent, do you know that?

And for you pair of tricksters
to come along on your honeymoon.

Will you ever forget it, Benny?

- No.
- Tarzan Brady. God, you're an awful man.

"Me Tarzan, you Jane," was it?

Come on, we'll sing.

- And what?
- "Beautiful Bundoran."

Bundoran, right.

Thank you.

- Take two.
- Good night, now.

Another wee drop before we go.

The night is young yet, Benny?

Well, man, dear every time I think of it.

The pair of you standing there
with your heads sticking out the holes.

- Tarzan and Jane bucking Brady.
- Shut up about it. Shut up about it, now.

Sure, Benny. I'm only codding.

A bit of a song?

- There's been enough singing.
- Whatever happened to Joe Reilly? Do...?

- Who do you think you're fooling, Alo?
- Joe was a rare character.

Look at him with his wee red hankie.
Did the wife iron it for you?

- Benny, don't let it happen again.
- I warned him!

Carrying on with Mary
like some schoolboy halfwit.

Hadn't the guts to ask her to marry him.
Married Winnie!

It was a grand party, but to tell
you the truth, I was getting tired.

Singing's all right, singing's grand,
but five "Beautiful Bundorans "...

is enough for me,
not to mention two "Old Bogroads "...

and one
"Never Do a Tango With an Eskimo."

Don't blame it on him. Don't blame Alo
because you were put in a home!

Jesus, Benny, let it end.

- Excuse me.
- Well, I best be off soon.

Yes, it's me, Francie,
I do believe I should be off...

to Slumberdown Mansions, if you please.

I've had rather a long day,
begging your pardon.

But might as well be talking to the wall
as trying to tell them it was time for bed.

May the curse of Christ
light upon you, you bitch!

The day I took you out of that
hole of a shop in Derry...

was a bitter one for me.

Sick of him! Sick of him! I'm sick of him!

- Please tell me again, I want to hear this...
- Follow you...

Yes, I do believe
I shall be off on my travels.

"Excuse me, did you happen
to see Mr. Francis Brady, by any chance?"

"I'm sorry, old bean,
but I really wouldn't know."

I hope he's not gone traveling
through the wastes of space and time...

"with Algernon Carruthers."

Don't you worry, kemosabe. I'll be back.

You haven't seen the last
of Francito Brady.

You understand me, Senor Joe?

Sure, them Communists
are taking Kennedy for a ride.

There's only one way to deal
with the likes of them boys.

You go in first.

One bomb is all it takes.

Wonder how many nuns
they'd interfere with then.

- That'll settle them, wouldn't it?
- Indeed, by Christ, it would.

I'd knock seven different kinds of shite
out of that Khrushchev bastard.

Go on, Khrushchev, you bastard.

Is this really Dublin?

Yeah, it is. Where'd you think it was,
for Jesus' sake?

"For Jesus' sake."

The way they're crossing that bridge,
you'd think someone said:

"Excuse me, but I'm gonna let off
an atomic bomb any minute now."

- There you go.
- Thanks, mum.

Thank you. There's damn all wrong
with the Communists.

- They're no worse than the rest of them.
- Now you said it, missus.

Two sons in England.

You'd think they'd send you
a couple of shillings.

Not if it was to save their own lives.

What's your name, son?

Algernon Carruthers.

I knew by the look of you
you had manners.

You'd send a couple of shillings.

You'd look after your mother.

Will you stop talking about mothers
and get me them chips?

I do not have time to talk to women
with beards about mothers...

if you don't mind.

That's one shilling, Algernon.

There you go.

- I'm off.
- Bye.

- Smoked cod and chips.
- All right, sir.

You people have small eyes.

You are unable to grasp the importance
of today's events...

There was one of them aliens.

He had a human body
he stole off a snotty-nosed doctor.

But you knew by the cut of him
that inside, he was Mrs. Nugent.

No, only joking.

Inside, he was a fat green blob with arms
like an octopus and his face all scales.

Steve!

Come on, youse alien bastards.
One bomb is all it takes.

It's 2 pound 10
for the Irish cottage, sonny.

The thing about running away from home
is you can't bring your mother with you.

It'd be grand if you could, but I'm sorry,
old bean, that's just not the way it is.

I hope your mother
likes the present, son.

Don't worry. She will.

The good Lord does his harvesting
and forgets no one.

True enough.

You best get off here, son.

- Come on.
- Thanks anyway.

Hello.

Good Lord does his harvesting
and forgets no one.

God love you, son.

Ma.

Ma.

Ma!

Joe.

Joe.

Francie, where were you?

Look what I got her, Joe.

Look what I got her.

Well, your mother's
with her lady now, Francie...

and she'll look after her.

And she'll look after you too, Francie,
if you pray to her every day.

Good boy.

Benny.

Benny.

Get a good rest for yourself, now.

And make sure Francie
gets a good rest too.

God bless.

They found her at the bottom
of the river near the madhouse.

Wasn't enough to put her there, was it?

You had to wreck her funeral too.

You can do one bad thing, can't you, Joe?

You can do one bad thing.

But that doesn't mean for the rest
of your life, everyone's gonna say:

"He did it, it's him.
He did the bad thing."

No.

And even if they did say that,
what we'd say is that we don't care.

We were too busy.

That's what we would say.
We'd say, "Excuse us. Too busy."

Yeah, and we'd say,
"Mind your own business."

I hope he's proud of himself now, the pig.

After what he's done on his poor mother.

Music, music, music.

What's that Phillip Nugent
got to do with music?

Nothing, that's what.

That's some music case, Phillip.

Francie, I have to go. I'm late.

Phillip, do you like me?

Yes, but I have to go.

Because I like you.
I think you're a smashing chap.

- Do you think I'm a smashing chap, Phillip?
- Yes.

- Excuse me, but do you mean, "Yes"?
- Yes.

- Go on, then. Say it.
- Say what?

For God's sake, Phillip, just say,
"Yes. I think you are a smashing chap."

Yes. I think you are a smashing chap.

I know I am, Phillip.

And that is some music case.
Think I could have a look at it?

- I don't know. My mother says...
- I don't think I like you now.

No, Francie. Here, take it.
You can have it.

Thank you, Phillip.
You really are a smashing chap.

You know, I might be a pig.

But I can still be your friend,
no matter what Mrs. Nooge says.

Yes, Francie.

- What am I, Phillip?
- You really are a smashing chap.

Thank you.

You know, I'm sorry I stole your comics.

But now that we're getting on
like a house on fire...

I'm gonna give them back to you.
Are you, Francie?

On one condition:
That you don't tell anybody...

where you got them, okay?

- Okay.
- Okay. Let's go, partner.

It was dark inside that chicken house,
with all them chicks going burble-burble...

and Phillip going,
"Francie, it's dark in here."

Francie, it's dark in here.

It sure is, Phillip, but don't worry,
it'll be worth it when you see those comics.

- Francie, is that where they are?
- Right here.

Francie, what are you doing?

- Francie, why?
- "Francie, why are you doing this?"

Francie, why?

You had to go and do it again, you...

Francie, no!

You've done it now.
You've really gone and done it now.

But, Joe, I missed him.
I only pretended to hit him.

You did, like fuck.

Phillip, you're gonna go home
and tell your mother...

you fell off the apple tree,
do you hear me?

We've had her coming after us
before and we don't want it again.

- Do you hear me?
- Yes, Joe.

Jesus, Francie,
why didn't you let me know?

- I'm sorry, Joe.
- Get in there.

All right, kneel down, will you?

You've got to promise.

You've got to swear by the blood of the
Apache that you'll never go near him again!

I swear, Joe.

- By the blood of the Apache.
- By the blood of the Apache.

Now give me your hand.
Give me your hand.

Joe! What'd you do that for?

Jesus.

All right, give me your hand, will you?

Give me your hand, will you?

Blood brothers, Francie,
until the end of time.

Until the end of time, Joe.

As long as you swear
never to go near him again.

I won't, Joe.

Blood brothers, Francie.

Blood brothers, Joe.

- Hey, a fish.
- Fish.

- Fuck off!
- Now, fish, he's certainly telling you...

Well, the fish fucked off, all right,
but Mrs. Nugent didn't.

Her and her two bogman brothers
came along to teach me a lesson.

- I'll hold him down till he drowns.
- We've no argument against you, Purcell.

But that little bleeder
has me sister's nerves in tatters.

Take Phillip's comics, would you?
You'd go for him on your own?

You'll never touch a Nugent again,
I swear.

That's the end of your gallop.

Let him go!

Come on, boy. Come on, will you?

Wake up. Wake up.

- Francie.
- A little gulp of water never hurt.

- You've done it now. Come on.
- Look what you've done!

- Now, come on. Come on.
- Look what you've done!

- Come on.
- What has she got us into now?

- It wasn't my idea.
- It's done. Look what you've done.

Francie, please. Come on, Francie.

Please, Francie, come on.

Please, Francie, come on. Please. Plea...

That's a lesson, Joe.
Never trust that Phillip Nugent.

Jesus, what the hell did you do that for?

What do you want?

You know, Mrs. Nugent,
I have ears, you know?

I said, what do you want?

You see, I just have to see Phillip.

Phillip is doing his lessons.

Tell him it's a very important matter,
Mrs. Nugent.

Phillip, amazing facts!

The moon, 90 million miles away.
And the Colorado beetle.

- Did you ever hear of him, Mrs. Nugent?
- No, I didn't.

Watch out for him, Mrs. Nugent.
He's a disaster.

Beware of the Colorado beetle, Phillip.
And you think pigs are bad?

There's damned hell wrong with pigs.
At least he wouldn't eat your house or you.

You see, Mrs. Nugent,
a pig just can't do it.

Cakes.

Phillip, just where have you been?
Your uncles gave me a right going-over.

Get out. Get out.

Well, I never seen such pushing
and shoving as went on that day.

They were about the worst pushers
I had ever seen.

Mrs. Nugent, I just don't know
what I'm gonna do with you.

It was the cakes that clinched it.

I didn't know Mrs. Nugent
was a bun woman too.

Mrs. Nugent, the most famous
bun woman of all time, I do believe.

Welcome to Nugent's, Mr. Francie Brady.

Thank you, sir. Thank you very much.

It gives me great pleasure
to be standing here...

on these black and white tiles
in the scullery of Mrs. Nugent.

Not at all, Francie,
we're delighted to have you.

Now, you must meet everyone.

Sure, don't I know them all.

Your husband,
Mr. Ten-Ton-Hoppity-Bollocks...

and your son, Phillip!

God, I have to hand it to you,
Mrs. Nugent, when it come to polishing.

Flies? Not in your house, Mrs. Nooge.

Any cakes are under lock and key, where
Mr. Fly and his cronies can't get at them.

A submarine bomb exploded
in a harbor might affect a city.

The affected area
would be a poor picnic site.

Amazing facts.

But do you think those Nugents
would ever pay attention?

Amazing facts is wasted on that lot.

Good heavens, Phillip,
you're not listening.

Right, that's it. Write it out 20 times, now:
"Phillip is a pig."

Phillip is a pig. Phillip is a pig.

Phillip, Phillip, Phillip is a pig.

- Phillip is a pig.
- It's a bomb. Duck and cover.

Tony knows a bomb can explode
any time of the year, day or night.

Duck and cover.
We must be ready every day, all the time.

It's a bomb. Duck and cover.

Duck and cover. Attaboy...

Right, then. Enough about bombs.

Today we're going to do the farmyard.

Now, can anyone tell me what animals
we find in the farmyard?

Cows?

Cows, yes, indeed. We do find cows.

- Sheep?
- And what else?

- Pigs.
- Pigs. You are absolutely right, Phillip.

And what do pigs do, Phillip?

They run round the farmyard.

- Any takers at the back?
- They give us rashers?

That's true, but that's not the answer
I'm looking for.

Mrs. Nugent, I can tell it's coming.

- They do...
- No, Mrs. Nugent, out with it.

That's not good enough.
What do pigs do?

How many times do I have to go over it?

Now, Mrs. Nugent, don't be shy.

You can do it.

Five, four, three, two, one.

Come along.

Mrs. Nugent. Catch anything?

Well, that Mrs. Nugent.

How was I to run a proper pig school
with all these interruptions?

Disgusting boy!

Disgusting!

Thank Christ your poor mother
isn't here to see this.

No, she's in the lake,
and it was me who put her there.

Francie. It was just a mistake,
Francie, wasn't it?

You didn't touch Phillip Nugent, did you?

- Get in there, now.
- Joe, I'm innocent. I didn't mean any harm.

Just wanted a piece of cake.

Blood brothers, Francie,
until the end of time.

Until the end of time, Joe.

Joe! Joe!

Why'd you have to do it, son?

Why'd you have to do the likes of that?

Up she rose out of nowhere,
the house with a hundred windows.

Just like the one where Da and Alo
spent all those happy days.

And what's good enough for Da and Alo
must be good enough for Francie.

So this is the famous Francie Brady.

Aye, that's right, Father. That's me.

Speak when you're spoken to.

If you were one of mine,
I'd break every bone in your body.

It's all right, sergeant.
Have no worries about this fella.

I'll look after him. God bless, now.

- Right, Father.
- Bye. Look out for them robbers, now.

That's enough out of you.

Them robbers, you can't be up to them.

Well, what do you make
of your new home, Mr. Brady?

It's grand. Good enough for pigs.

You'll find no pigs here.

The incredible school for pigs.

Very well, then, I'll expect you in chapel
for prayers before tea.

We're here the longest in this school.
Right, boys?

- Right.
- Anyone gives you trouble, just tell us.

- Isn't that right?
- Right.

- Does that mean youse will protect me?
- Aye.

The great Al Capone
bogman protection racket.

- Who's Al Capone?
- AI who?

Who's Al Capone? Who's Al Capone?

- Hey, boys?
- What?

What does one flea say to another?

Don't know.

"Will we walk or take the dog?"

That's a great joke.
Where'd you learn that joke?

- What's your name?
- Algernon Carruthers.

We're pleased to meet you, Algernon.

- Anyone annoys you, tell us.
- Because we're the longest in this school.

- Isn't that right?
- That's right.

Well, if youse are gonna protect me,
youse better follow me.

Well, I never seen anything
like those bogmen.

Their bony arses cocked in the air...

like they're carrying an invisible sack
of spuds at the back.

Out with the backside, up with the nose.

And we'll knock seven different kinds
of shite out of anyone...

who lays a finger on Francie Brady.

Come on, boys.

Well, it was sure good in that old school.

All in line like Apaches...

and Father Bubbles
with the big, red country face on him...

like a Beauty of Bath apple
from the walking...

and me giving the bogmen lessons
in how to talk like Al Capone.

Okay, bogmen, let's hear some
of that Al Capone lingo.

They ever come here again,
we'll kick their arses into their necks.

- Is that right, Francie?
- No, we'll rub them out, I told you.

Now, I told you, you bollocks.

- Shut your mouth.
- What would...?

What the bloody hell are you at?

I want to see the four of you
in my office after tea.

Will you stack them properly,
you fool, you?

That's great work, Francie.

You'd never be finished,
you know that, Father.

No?

As soon as the lights went out,
wheeze, wheeze, wheeze.

Sleep for them, but not for Francie Brady.

A saint in every windowsill snoring
10 to the dozen too.

Quit breathing, youse bastards.

"Poor Francie Brady," Jesus was saying.

"Isn't it a terrible pity?"

Isn't what a terrible pity?

"I'm only saying," he says.

No, you didn't answer me.
Isn't what a terrible pity?

"Nothing. I didn't say anything.
Did you, Patrick?"

"It must have been Gabriel."

Hey, saints, fuck off, will youse!

Now, mind your language, please, Francie.

You'd think they'd get their shoes dirty.

No.

No, no. Walking around in their
black skirts and their penguin collars.

- Let them cut their own grass verges.
- That's a hardy day, isn't it?

Think they'd do it?

No, but they're quick enough to annoy me
when they take the notion.

"You missed a bit here," he says.

"You missed a bit there."

Fuck him and his grass verges.

Me that fought with Michael Collins
in the troubled times.

- Which Collins was that, now?
- There you are, Jimmy.

I was wondering about this grass verge
over here at the side.

Aye, aye.
Surely, Father. Do you know what?

- Wasn't I about to cut it this very minute?
- Well, you have to keep on top of them.

- Can't afford to let it go for a minute.
- No, you cannot, indeed, Father.

Well, them bogmen liked their porridge.
They certainly did.

Mind you, the old school wasn't that bad.

And it was the best school in the world
the day that old letter came from Joe.

- You know where I met Joe first?
- Joe who?

Who do you think? Joe Purcell.

I don't know any Joe Purcell.

Man, but you're a bogman.

Joe Purcell,
the boy who wrote this letter.

I never get any letters.

- Well, aren't youse gonna ask me?
- Ask you what?

Where I met him first.

Where did you meet him first?

It was at the fountain.

- It was at the fountain.
- There aren't any fountains around our way.

"Dear Francie, you idiot.
What were you doing?"

Were you trying to burn down
the Nugents' house?

There's all sorts of stories about you.

"You'll have to lay off Phillip.
Phillip isn't that bad."

At first I thought it was a joke...

Joe saying Phillip won a goldfish
at the carnival and gave it to him.

Phillip at the carnival with Joe?
I knew it was a joke.

But then, I says, maybe it wasn't.

Maybe Phillip did win a goldfish.

And worst of all, maybe Joe took it.

"Times are tough, Jimmy," he says.

A shilling rise is all he could manage.

Maybe next year.

Fucking sky pilot!

I'd give them that.

You see?

If you were friends with someone...

and this other person
gave you a goldfish...

the other person you were friends with...

would you take it?

If who gave it to you?

The other fella.

Bedad, now. I wouldn't know.

I wouldn't know much about goldfishes in
the heel of the hunt to be straight with you.

Okay.

Doesn't matter anyway.

I thought about it for a while.
Then I says, I won't think about it.

I won't. I won't. I won't.

There won't be no more
goldfish and carnivals for me.

Goldfish and carnivals... the end.

I'm glad to see you're
learning manners, Francie.

Thank you, Father.

Now... So I've seen them all come and go.

Since the very first day I came here
as a fresh, young curate myself.

There's our founder, Francie, now.
Father Cleary.

Is it, now, indeed, Father?

"Was it him founded the school
for bogmen with bony arses?" I says.

I did, like fuck.

Father Cleary had a saying:

"No boy is so bad that you can't find
a scrap of goodness in him."

But what did Joe have to take it for?

Why, why, why?

Why didn't he say, "Sorry, Phillip.
You can keep your goldfish."

You're nothing to do with us "?

Then it came to me.

Joe only took the goldfish
so there would be peace between us all.

And when I came home, me and Joe
would just carry on the way we had.

The devil makes work for idle hands,
you see, Francie.

And there's no flitter of badness
that good, fresh country air...

and hard work can't cure.

And that was the end of the goldfish,
because from now on I was gonna be good.

If anyone was looking for Francie
the Bad Bastard, they wouldn't find him...

because he was busy getting the
Francie-Not-a-Bad-Bastard-Anymore diploma.

And soon I'd be out,
and where would I be then?

Right at the fountain with the one
and only Joe Purcell, king of all time.

When I see you out there on the bog,
Francie, bending your back...

I know there's goodness in you.

But, Father...

Yes, Francie?

Do you know what I'd like to do better
than cutting turf and grass verges?

What, Francie?

I'd like to be an altar boy, Father.

By God, Francie,
you're full of surprises.

And the Francie-Brady-Not-a-Bad-Bastard-
Anymore Award goes to...

Begod! I think it's Francie Brady.

And so it was
that the blessed Virgin Mary appeared...

to three small children
who were chosen by her.

Three beautiful little servants of God...

chosen to deliver her special message...

for she knew that the soul of a child...

is the purest of all.

What do you see? What do you see?

- Here, what the hell is going on here?
- We don't know.

- What are you looking at?
- Get back to work when you're told to.

Get back to work when you're told to.
Get off. Get off.

Did she speak to you, Francis?

No, she just looked.

- I think she might speak the next time.
- Francis.

I think you've unlocked something
very precious.

Thank you, Father.

Now, come on inside, tell me all about it.

So you've unlocked something
very precious, have you?

Old bollocks.

The Balubas didn't give them half enough.

- Balubas?
- Yeah, the Balubas.

They had the clothes and all off
from over in Africa...

and in the cooking pot about to light
the sticks when the army come.

You don't think he was like that
all his life, do you?

Fresh day, Francie.

Good boy.

Hello, Francie.

Hello, Our Lady.

How are things?

Not so bad, but I was a bit worried
there for a while.

- But I'm okay now.
- Worried, Francie?

What were you worried about?

The goldfish.

Goldfish?

What goldfish, Francie?

The goldfish Phillip gave to Joe.

Francie...

you know you shouldn't worry
about those things.

Joe is your friend, isn't he?

Yes, Our Lady.

Of course he is.

Of course he is.

You know, there's a particular reason
why she chose you, Francie.

It's because you're so special.

Worrying my head about goldfish.

She says I have no sense.

A young fella like you...

with his life before him...

what call have you to be worried?

- Francis?
- Yes, Father?

Would you tell me about it again?

The first time you saw her.

Well, the first time,
there was this perfume...

and then there was this smell.

I didn't know what it was...

until these rose petals
started falling out of the sky...

So there I am telling him the story...

and the next thing his hand
is jiggling in his pocket.

What are you doing, Father Tiddley? Pay
attention. You're worse than the Nugents.

This is amazing facts about Our Lady I'm
telling you, and you're jiggling away there.

Come on, what are you playing at?
Next, he bends over shaking.

I thought he was gonna break into halves.
I'd be in a fix if that happened.

"Just what is one half of Father Tiddley
doing over by the bookcase...

and the other on the floor?"

Don't you be bothering your head
about it, Father.

Come out from under those hands, now.

What I don't know
is why she never appears to us.

Maybe it's only to fellas called Francie.

Do you think
she has nothing better to do...

than appear to muck-savage
bollockses like you?

Here's the boy now.

Coming on grand he is, too.

Up at 7 every morning, serving Mass.

He's a credit, Mr. Brady.

There was Da in his Al Capone coat.

"How are you, Father?
No, that's not whiskey in me pocket."

I know how to behave myself.

"Sure, wasn't I in a home like this
with Alo all those years ago?"

The lovebirds, Francie.

Alo's right, you know.

Don't talk about Alo.

There was no rows those days.
No whiskey. Nothing.

The war was just over
and everyone was happy.

But Alo was only half right, Francie.

I met her three times in Bundoran...

and always in the boarding house
Over the Waves...

where there was music in the evening.

Shut up.

Shut up about it.

I'd just started a brass band at the time,
Francie, the time I met Eddie Calvert.

Sometimes you get to thinking, son,
about the old days...

where they're gone.

The pair of us,
like a couple of youngsters.

"You put your head in, Benny," she says.

Can you imagine me as Tarzan?

McGlone egging her on.

There was no whiskey then, son.

Only the sea and the waves.

We said the rosary on the rocks.

Us and the McGlones.

We said the rosary on the rocks.

I don't want to hear about the rosary
and the rocks.

It wasn't always like this, son.

You'll never know
how much I loved that woman.

"May the curse of Christ
light upon you, you bitch."

"The day I took you out of that
hole of a shop in Derry...

was a bitter one for me."

I came here to see you, son.

If only you knew.

You have no son.

You put me in a home, like her.

What did I do?

What did I do?

I loved you like no father
ever loved a son, Francie.

It was hard for him to say it.

I could barely hear him.

It would have been better
if he drew out and hit me.

Well, Francis.

That was a nice surprise.

Sure, if you can't have a bit of a laugh,
what can you have?

- Isn't that right?
- That's right, Father.

You'll never believe this, Francie...

but my own mother had a bonnet
nearly the very same.

- Is that right?
- Yeah.

Yeah, it had ribbons too.

Francie?

Did your mother wear a bonnet?

No.

She only wore scarves.

Just scarves.

Well, she must have worn
a bonnet sometimes.

Are you sure she didn't wear one,
maybe at Christmas or Easter?

She must have.

No, she didn't wear bonnets, Father.

I always liked a bonnet.

A bonnet is nice.

I said, she didn't wear bonnets, Father.

Did she wear ribbons like this?

Little ribbons coming down here.

Francie...

I want you to tell me, now,
the worst thing you've ever done.

I did nothing bad.

Something so bad, so awful,
you wouldn't tell your own mother.

What did I do that's so bad?
You big bastard!

- I did nothing bad!
- Francie. No, no, no.

Christ! Listen, I did nothing bad!

May God forgive you.

Well, by Christ, you're the good one.

It's a pity you didn't cut
the todger off him entirely.

Them and their grass fucking verges.

They're shitting themselves now
in case the newspapers hear about it.

Be cripes, Francie, there hasn't been
as much craic around here...

since Bull McQuade rode the goat.

- Now, Father, here we are.
- Get in the auto now, Father.

Take care, now.

A great man.

A wonderful man.

But we all have our problems
now and again.

The priesthood is a lonely lot, you know.

And there's not one of us that's perfect.

But Father Sullivan was a great man,
you know.

I heard the night he went in the mission,
I remember it well.

Surely he had us in stitches
laughing, you know.

Father?

Yes, Francie?

I want one of these custard creams.

You can, Francie. Take two.
They're small.

Take two. They're small.

Sure, a bit of a laugh now and then
is what most of us need, I suppose.

But Father Sullivan, now...

he'll be off to spend some time
with his sister in Dublin.

After a rest,
surely he'll be as right as rain again.

Father, these are grand custard creams.

Francie, there's something I want
to tell you now...

and, well, I don't want you
to breathe it to a soul.

Father Doyle was just saying last night
how well you're coming on, you know.

And, I suppose, really,
what I'm trying to say is that...

you know, if you keep this up...

I wouldn't be surprised
if you didn't have a little surprise...

at the end of the...
Work away, yeah.

At the end of the week, really, you know.

Poor old Bubbles.
What he was really trying to say was:

"Francie, you can have the Francie-
Not-a-Bad-Bastard-Anymore diploma..."

if you get out and keep your mouth shut.

"You're a fungus on the walls,
and we want them cleaned."

Isn't that right, Father Bubbles?
"It is, indeed."

You're a terror for the custard creams.

Off I went riding down
the fresh country road.

Yep, it was sure good to be back
in that town.

What are you doing here, mister?
That's our fountain.

Is it yours, is it?

Yes, we are in charge of it.

Me and Brandy.

- Okay. I won't touch it anymore.
- All right, then, mister.

We'll let you go this time.

It might be your fountain now.

But do you know who it used to belong to?

No, who?

Me and Joe Purcell, that's who.

Well, youse don't own it now.

Who the hell does he think he is,
coming in here?

- Yeah, taking over our fountain.
- Let him get his own bloody fountain.

But what did they lock you
in the boiler house for?

The boiler house was just one thing, Joe.

It was just one thing.

But why did they lock you in there?

I know you're in a bit of a bad mood.
It's the thing with the goldfish, isn't it?

What goldfish?

"What goldfish?"

You're some man, Joe.
"What goldfish?"

The thing about the goldfish is
that it doesn't matter in the slightest.

- Just forget about it, okay?
- Okay.

Okay, now, the boiler house,
why did they lock me in there?

Well, Father Tiddley
and his bloody mickey, why else?

Imagine it, Joe,
a priest wanting you to wear bonnets.

I said, "No, Father. No bonnets."

Not until you fork out the chocolates."

Man, Joe, you should've seen
the face on him.

- I've got to go now.
- What?

I have essays to do.

Essays?

Whatever they are, well,
I guess I'll see you on Saturday, then.

Joe, you didn't believe me about
Father Tiddley and all that, now, did you?

Hey, that was some laugh, making that up.

Imagine it, Joe,
a priest wanting to do the like of that.

Some hope, Joe?

Some hope.

They loved me tonight, son.

And there was Da again...

playing that lovely trumpet.

When I heard him, it brought back Ma
and all the beautiful things...

like snowdrops and roses
and Flash bars...

and me and Joe by the lake.

As if goldfish and Nugents
had never been invented.

I'm sorry, son.

I'm sorry.

Da.

Da.

Leddy wants you to start tomorrow, son.

Okay.

- I can help you if you like, Mr. Leddy.
- Not now, son, you're grand.

You just clean up around
and leave this to me.

They don't like it
when you do that to them.

- What, son?
- Cut their throats.

No, indeed, they do not.

Not one bit.

Hello, ladies.

- Well, would you look at who's here.
- Francie, you're back.

- We think you were at the school.
- All over now, ladies.

- Francie Brady, back in action.
- Do you know what it is?

- I think you're getting big.
- He is indeed.

Him with the big job and all.

Francie Brady, the butcher boy.

Francie, you're a ticket.

What kind of ticket
would that be, now, ladies?

A bus ticket, maybe, yeah? Yeah?

Maybe a train ticket!

Or a one-way ticket, am I?

Is that what I am?

I had youse there, ladies, hadn't I?
A ticket.

Didn't you get it? Francie.

That was all right. A ticket.

Well, there's one pig that's come
to the end of the road, anyway.

She was an awful woman, your mother.

- The squeals of her in the water.
- Squealing, Da?

And the McGlones
laughing their heads off at us.

Here, Da, have some more tea.

You're the best wee son
that ever walked, Francie.

Squealing her head off.

- Francie, where'd you get the money?
- From Leddy.

I'm a workingman now, Joe.

Saving up for a million trillion Flash bars.

But the thing is, Joe...
the real thing is...

things will be always like the old days.

- Maybe.
- No maybes about it, Joe.

Go on, say it the way you used to say it.

- Say what?
- Okay, fellas, we're riding out!

Okay, fellas, we're riding out!

Death to all dogs who enter here!

- You said it.
- Hey, fish!

- Fuck off!
- What do you think of that, fish?

- You spermy little bastards.
- Yeah.

We had some laughs out there,
me and Joe, just like the old days.

And if I ever thought I had imagined the
old days with Joe, I was wrong. I sure was.

But I hadn't reckoned on Mrs. Nugent,
had I?

Sending her bogmen brothers
after me for shitting on her floor.

Isn't this our lucky day.

Back off, young Joe.

You're gonna be sorry now.

Who's gonna make me sorry?

- Come on, please don't start any trouble.
- Go on, Buttsy.

Shit.

Jesus.

She can't even leave the house.
Why couldn't you let her alone?

You can give it, but you can't
take it, Brady. Look at you!

Whining, that's all you're good for!

- Leave me alone!
- Get back here.

Look at your buddy.

Look at your buddy
from the terrace, Purcell.

Come on, Purcell. Look at him.

What are you hanging around
with him for, anyway?

What does your old man say?

I'm not hanging around with him.

I used to hang around with him.

He keeps calling.
He won't leave me alone.

Jesus.

No, Francie!

Francie, don't! Please!

What do you mean, Joe?

Why did you say that?

Joe wouldn't have said that
but for you. You bastard!

- Stop!
- Bastard! Bastard!

Well, that was a good one, Joe.

Pretending you used to hang around
with me.

Gave me my chance,
and smack with the rock.

They hadn't reckoned on us
being blood brothers, Joe?

Why did you say that, Joe?

Couldn't it have been something else?

You didn't mean it, did you, Joe?

No, Francie.

Blood brothers, Joe.

So long, Tonto.

It's your old pal... the Lone Ranger.

You take all of my fish.

You're a friend of Joe Purcell's,
aren't you?

She fancies him.

Liar, I do not.

Will you give him a message for her?

Go on. You're his friend, aren't you?

I used to be.

I don't mean to annoy you, Mr. Purcell,
but I've got something for Joe.

Joe's not here, Francie.

He's gone away to Carrick,
to his auntie's.

And out of the mists comes Dr. Boyd...

in his Dracula outfit,
looking for his pint of blood.

"Stick out your tongue and say:

And while you're at it,
can I bite your neck?"

Fuck off, Dr. Boyd, you wanker.

There was only one good musician
in this town, and that was Da.

But that was all over now.

All over, that is, only for the flies.

Flies, flies, is that all
there's ever gonna be?

Why don't youse go somewhere else,
for God's sake, and let the poor man sleep?

God, why youse have to
stick your noses in here?

Don't you worry your head about them, Da.

Don't you be bothering your head
and worrying.

Want to listen to the wireless?

Then the wireless it is.

Cuba is being turned
into a Soviet nuclear base.

Bloody Communists.

We'll make our own music, Da.

I saw your mother, Francie.

She was saying a prayer for us both.

Down at the rocks in Bundoran.

The best music man
that ever lived, my da.

We will not prematurely
or unnecessarily...

risk the cost of worldwide nuclear war.

In which even the fruits of victory
would be ashes in our mouth.

- But neither will we shrink from that risk...
- Hello, ladies.

Doing a bit of shopping, Francie?

Aye, that's right, Mrs. Canning.

I'm in charge now.

Your daddy has enough on his plate?

Yeah, he has indeed.

Well, what do you think, ladies?
Will the world come to an end or not?

The thing is, you don't know
the type of people you're dealing with.

Father Dominick says the things
he's seen them Communists do...

you wouldn't believe.

Sure, don't I know that,
Mrs. Canning.

If they want to push the button,
then push it they will.

The likes of you or me won't stop them,
you can be sure of that, now, Francie.

Well, I got a half dozen of eggs,
couple slices of ham and a bag of tea.

It'll be a bitter day for this town
if the world comes to an end.

That's all I can say.

If youse ask me, it'll come to no end,
for Our Lady won't let it.

Wouldn't I be right, Francie?

You never spoke a truer word,
Mrs. Canning.

Well, best be off.
I got to get the tea on.

Ta-ra, now. See youse.

Sure, what chance did he ever have,
the poor creature.

Will be seen as an attack
by the Soviet Union on the United States.

If only the Nugents
hadn't come to town...

if only they'd left us alone...

that was all they had to do.

Music?

Joe?

The thing is, Da...

I don't mind Phillip giving
him goldfishes, God is my judge.

But don't let him start thinking
that he can get in with us through music.

That isn't the way it works
with blood brothers.

Do you think they'd ever just leave
the two of us alone, Da?

Just leave the two of us alone.

Hello, Francie.

Hello, Dr. Boyd.

Your father was meant to come
and see me a week ago.

Be kind of important
that I see him, Francie.

But how could you see him, Dr. Boyd,
isn't he gone to England?

England?

- What's he doing in England?
- Gone to see Uncle Alo.

Well, he must be better than I thought.

Aye, he's made of strong stuff, Dr. Boyd.

When he comes back,
tell him I want to see him.

Yes, you would have to come along
and spoil it, Dr. Boyd, wouldn't you?

Asking all your questions.

That's where you're wrong. You won't.

Don't worry, Da.

I won't let them near us.

You see, I love you, Da.

What else had changed
since I was looking after Da?

The town.

It was a great big ocean liner
that had been lying sunk...

at the bottom of the ocean
and now was rising up...

all lit up with the lights and ready
to sail wherever we wanted to go.

Anywhere you say, Joe.

Yep, you just gotta say, Joe, old buddy.

Except Joe wasn't on the ship.

Would've been good if he was, but he
wasn't, so there's no use thinking about it.

Say, Brady, have you a lock of shillings?

Me and you, Brady.

Up she flew and the cock flattened her.

- Flattened her, be Christ.
- Are you for the dance?

Are you coming for a slither
on the boards?

You don't be looking at the mantelpiece
when poking the fire.

The fucking mantelpiece, he says.

My dear, be cripes,
that man's his father's son.

Two, please. Me and Francie Brady.

- Okay.
- Thanks very much.

- Would you like a dance?
- No, thank you.

Why didn't you bring your knitting?

"Why didn't you bring your knitting?"
You're a good one.

We're up from the bogs in our boots
and our togs, and we'll fix our...

- What are you looking at?
- Fuck off!

And they were all over me...

like the Apaches over John Wayne.

"Joe, help!" I shouts.

"Call up the posse. Get the cavalry."

Who's gonna get me out of here
if it's not Joe Purcell?

But he didn't come.

- Did he?
- Don't fucking well come back!

The cost of freedom is always high...

but Americans have always paid it.

And one path we shall never choose...

and that is the path of surrender,
or submission.

Our goal is not the victory of might...

but the vindication of right.

Not peace at the expense of freedom,
but both peace and freedom.

Here, in this hemisphere...

Did I ever tell you what she told me, Da?

I was only 5 pound weight
when I was born.

Cheers, missus.

So Joe didn't want the goldfish?

No, missus, goldfish are nothing to do
with me and Joe.

- How many did you get him, Francie?
- A million billion trillion.

Too many.

Missus... my eyes are getting so heavy.

Don't worry, Francie.

Joe is coming.

When, missus?

Little Francie, when do you think?

He's at the window.

It's going to be all right, Francie.

Joe is here.

Joe.

It's okay, son. It's okay. It's okay.

I let Da down, sergeant.

- It's all right, Francie.
- I let him down.

Da! Da!

- Easy, now, easy.
- Da!

- Da!
- That's the boy.

Da!

That's the boy.

There you are. I was looking for you.

Joe, is that the lake behind you?

What do you think it is, the Rio Grande?

Jesus!

No. Not them Communists!

I got a funny feeling about this, Joe.

Yep, something's not right.

Your father was meant to come
and see me a week ago.

The thing is, Francie, you don't know
the type of people you're dealing with.

Your daddy has enough on his plate?

This thing is bigger
than the both of us, Joe.

Better call in the feds.

If they want to push the button,
then push it they will.

So who's a pig now, ladies?

It'll be a bitter day for this town
if the world comes to an end.

Father Dominick says the things
he's seen them Communists do...

- Time to ride out, I guess.
- Yeah.

This old town has had it.

Thank God I had Joe.

Me and Joe Purcell,
the last two in the universe...

on this bitter, bitter day
for the lovely town...

when the world had ended.

Francis, you've unlocked
something very precious.

And you say the alien looked like...?

Well, a little like yourself, doc,
to tell you the truth.

Then again, a little like Father Sullivan.

Maybe he took over
an ordinary priest's body.

I don't know.

Maybe we should get out of here, doc,
before it's too late.

Well, well, we meet again.

You're a long way from the old field
in the school for pigs.

What was that, Francis?

Who do you think, doc?
Our Lady on the wall behind you.

Me and Our Lady go back a long way.

It's not every shite hawk
she'll appear to, you know.

What are you planning on doing now, doc?

So this was the garage.

One blast and I was away
all through hyperspace.

Hello there, Egyptians, pyramids and all.

Pharaoh can't come today,
so it's me instead...

Francie from the terrace.

Where do they be taking you?

- Cripes, more bogmen.
- You needn't think you're not seen.

They take me to the
time-travel room, old bean.

Where I travel through the wastes of space
and time, courtesy of Algernon Carruthers.

I knew you were a cowering cur
the minute I set eyes on you.

Bogmen, bogmen!
Will somebody save me from bogmen!

I heard they're going to give you
the treatment.

They'll soon wipe that grin off your face
when they put them holes in your head.

- What holes?
- I seen the last fella.

He used to stand by the window all day,
eating bits of paper.

- Officer, get this bogman out of here!
- Do you like paper?

Well, you'd better start getting to like it.

Go on, you Cavan cur.
I took better men than you.

The tree trunks had to haul me off him.

This is a disgrace, a person
can't get a bit of sleep around here...

without being attacked
by bony-arsed bogmen.

That bogman bastard
says you're gonna put holes in my head.

No, no, Francis, nothing like that.

Now, come here, I want to show you these.

I want you look at them
and tell me what you think, yeah?

Looks like you'll be writing
no more messages on this, doc.

- And why is that, Francis?
- Look at it, it's destroyed.

Lift your specs and repeat after me:

Good man, yourself!

Now you have it! Run, kick her!

Into the back of the net with her.
By Christ, this year's team is the best yet.

And that's the garage for you.

Bogmen at Mass
thinking they're at a football match.

And that's when I says:

"Whatever it takes, Francie Brady's
getting out of the garage for pigs."

Hey, bogman, hold this.
And stop shaking, will you?

The thing about Cavan people...

is not one of them wouldn't give you
the last halfpenny out of their pocket.

The best men ever walked in here
were the Cavan men.

- Hey, bogman.
- You're not gonna bite me again, are you?

No. Not if you tell them
that I've gone to Dublin, right?

- Right.
- Yeah, okay.

See you, you bony arse.

Here I was back home,
and no more about holes in the head.

- I met Jimmy the Skite...
- Do you have a dollar?

And I thought I was back inside.
We're closed.

You're what?
What are you talking about?

The Francie Brady bank is closed,
and that's all about.

Closed? Go on back to the garage,
Brady, you fucking lug, you.

Back off, you fucking round tub
of Guinness.

Hello, Mr. Purcell.

Are you all right there, Francie?

I was wondering if Joe was in.

Joe's away in boarding school
in Bundoran the last three months.

- He and Phillip went after the exams.
- Phillip?

Aye, you know the young Nugent fella
he hangs around with.

Son, you shouldn't be out on your own.
Aren't you supposed to be in the hospital?

Mr. Purcell, I wish you'd stop all this.
I just wanna talk to Joe.

I told you, Francie,
he's away in Bundoran.

I'm sorry, Mr. Purcell,
but I'm fed up with people telling me lies.

You used to never do that.

- Isn't it true, isn't it?
- Come here, I'm not telling you lies.

You never would've in the old days.
Only for her.

It was fine until she came,
interfering and causing trouble.

Francie, come on, now. Calm down.

I know you don't mean it to be like this.

Only for Mrs. Nugent, it'd be all okay.

All like the old days, way back long ago,
like the way it used to be.

It was all okay.

That old Mrs. Nugent...

she was taking over the whole town.

Bit by bit.

Everything I'd ever liked.

I just couldn't believe it.

I sat down in that old kitchen...

and made a list of all the people
that were gone on me now.

Francie, for fuck's sake.
That's the best one yet.

Sure, how could Joe be gone on you?
Aren't you blood brothers?

I'm afraid he's gone, missus.

They're all gone.

First Ma, then Da... then Alo, now Joe.

Gone where?

Bundoran.

You've given me an idea, missus.

- Hello there.
- Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

I thought you were the Communists.

- Any news?
- Turn back while you still can.

Come 12 tomorrow,
there won't be a bullock standing.

Khrushchev.

Did you see them rockets on the news?

Fit to blow up China.

Do you think I'll be safe in Bundoran?

Bundoran?
Where the fleas ate a missioner.

Can I help you, son?

You used to leave the key
under that mat there for them.

Benny and Annie Brady.

"The lovebirds," you called them.

Yes, we have them all here.

Over the Waves, Over the Waves.

This is where it all began.

I could still hear his music playing
through the dining room.

Da said they'd lie in the bed upstairs
and listen to the sea until it got bright.

We had musical evenings to beat the band.

Lovely, lovely people.

You acquire a reputation, you see.

There they are, there they are, missus.

That's them.

The Bradys.

"The lovebirds," you called them.

The lovebirds, aye.

You used to leave the key
under the mat for them.

Yes, the key.

Well, some people come in
later than others, son.

Please, missus,
don't go like Mrs. Nugent on me.

Mrs. Nugent, was she with them?

Mrs. Nugent?

There was no Mrs. Nugents
in them days, missus.

They were here with the McGlones.

Too many people, son, over the years.

Sure, what would I know
about a couple like that?

A couple like what?

Lovely people, all of them.

- Youse tell me, missus, just tell me.
- Please, son.

You were saying, missus.
A couple like what?

What can I say about a man not sober
on a day of his honeymoon?

Poor Charlie McGlone,
his holiday ruined carting him out of pubs.

As for her, what could you do but pity her?
He treated her no better than a pig.

God, I'm sorry, son.

Excuse me, Jane.

Excuse me, Tarzan.
I want a word with you, please.

I want to sort out this matter,
for once and for all.

What? You have to make
an appointment, now, do you?

Youse fucking bastards.
I'll take no more of your fucking shite.

Who wants to be
Mr. And Mrs. Monkey, anyhow?

Yes, indeed, it was the end of the line.

Excuse me, moon,
have you got something to say...

or are you saying the rosary too?

Yep, Joe, it's the end of the line.

Francie's coming to get you out of this.

It's either them or us, Joe.

Hey, what the hell do you think
youse are doing up there...

putting out them lights?
How am I meant to find Joe Purcell?

What's all this?
A hundred sleeping bogmen.

Not for long.

Okay, bogmen...

nobody try any tricks
and nobody get hurt.

If anybody moves out
of their spermy little beds...

I'm gonna blow their fucking
bogmen little brains out! Right?

You see, I just gotta find Joe.

You understand me, don't you?

- Where are you, Joe boy?
- What's he doing?

I'm here, Joe, come on, let's saddle up.
We'll ride out, Joe.

We can ride out to the mountains, Joe?
We can track for days.

We can listen to the coyotes at night.

What the hell is going on in here?

Jesus, no need to curse, Father.

I'm just looking for Joe.
Can you find him for me, please?

- Sir, this guy messed...
- Fuck all of youse.

Fuck off, you spermy little bastards.

Joe. Fuck.

Excuse me, do you mind?

Joe, tell this sky pilot here
to step aside and we'll be out of here.

Purcell.

Come here a moment, would you?

There's gonna be some craic now, Joe?

The interrogation.

- Don't let them break you.
- Will you shut up?

Sorry, Father.

Purcell, do you know this person?

No, Father, how would he know me,
you know, I'm just his best friend.

Yes, Father. His name is Francie Brady.

Sergeant Francie Brady, B Company, sir.

And do you have any idea
what he's doing here?

- No, Father.
- Good trick, Joe.

Keep him talking,
we make a run for it, okay?

- Did you hear that?
- Yes, Father.

- Brilliant, Joe.
- What do you want?

What do you want me for? Are you deaf
or something, what do you want me for?

Don't give it too much,
they might start believing you.

- Don't you go overboard, Joe boy.
- This has gone on long enough.

For the last time, Purcell,
is this or is this not a friend of yours?

No, Father.

Joe. Please, Joe, don't pretend anymore,
just tell them straight.

- Joe! Please, Joe!
- Stop him.

What are you looking at, Nugent?
Why are you always looking?

Is that all you can do, you wanker?
Look, look, look, look, look.

- Get back to sleep!
- Why are you always looking?

Joe! Joe!

Be on your way, now.

That wasn't Joe, Father.

And who was it, then?

I know it looked like him...
but it wasn't.

Go home, son, for the love of God.

Maybe the Communists took him.

Or was it the Nugents?

Maybe the aliens.

One thing is for sure, it wasn't him.

Hey, boy, where you going
with them saints?

- If the priest sees you, you'll get it.
- Traynor seen the blessed Virgin.

She's coming with a message
about the end of the world.

Don't talk to me
about the end of the world.

I'd best tear on, Francie.

We've more to do than drink, the way
things are. There's praying to be done.

If only they knew.

Straining to see when she coming.

Might as well be waiting
for the aliens to arrive.

And, my God, they're here,
taking over the body of Mrs. Nugent.

The greatest alien of all time,
I do believe.

Where the hell have you been?

Meself and Dr. Boyd
were looking everywhere for you.

- On my travels, Mr. Leddy.
- You and your travels.

The hospital rang, looking for you.

Look, I'm desperate to finish here.

I want to go home,
get ready for Our Lady.

You go watch the end-of-the-world show,
Mr. Leddy.

- I'll look after things here.
- Fair play to you, son.

It's the least I could do, now.

Good luck, now.

She told young Traynor
she'd be here on the dot of 6.

This is the happiest day of my life.

Hello, hello. Testing, testing, hello.

So, what do you think, pigs?

Will Our Lady come or not?

She said nothing to me about it.

Did she say anything to you?

What?

What?

So she mustn't be coming, then, right?

It beats the hell out of me
why them idiots up there are praying.

Now we're right, missus.

Then off I went on me travels.

Everybody was all holy now.

We're all in this together,
people of the town.

Bogmen taking off their caps to women,
looking into prams and everything.

"This is the holiest town in the world."
They should've put that up on a banner.

I never saw the town looking so well...

and it looked like the brightest,
happiest town in the whole world.

Now and at the hour of our death, amen.

Hail Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is with thee...

- It's me, Mrs. Nugent.
- My God.

Don't worry, Mrs. Nugent.
You won. Joe's gone.

One little piggy went to the market.

One little piggy stayed at home.

One little piggy got bread and beef,
the other little piggy got none.

No sign of her yet, ladies?

Sure, she has a lot on her plate,
with the way things are in the world.

Please God, she won't be long.

As the monkey said
when he got his tail cut off.

After all me praying,
she didn't bother her arse coming.

Have you the money for a drink?

- I have me hands full here.
- Fuck off, you and her.

There's only one place for aliens...

and that's underneath
the rotten cabbages in the brock heap.

God! God! God!

Have you seen her, Mrs. Coyle?
You've seen Our Lady.

So young Traynor got it wrong.
The square, how are you?

Our Lady, sure, I knew
you wouldn't let us down.

Well, Our Lady mightn't have shown up,
but Francie Brady didn't let them down.

It was the best show
that old town had ever seen.

Everybody back!

Excuse me, if youse don't mind.

You did it, you fucking...
Fucking Jesus Christ!

Mr. Leddy, I hope
you're gonna pay for the furniture.

- Shut your fucking mouth!
- Tell him there's no need for that language.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

Will you tell us
what you've done with her?

- Who?
- Jesus Christ, will you stop this?

This is doing nobody any good.

Will you, son, please?

I'm sorry about all this, sergeant.

Do you think they'll hang me?

I'm afraid there's no more hanging.

Sergeant, what's this world coming to?

I didn't know you were gonna
chop her up too, Francie.

Do you know Mary's shop?

Will youse do me a message?

Sure, but only if you say
no more chopping up.

Mrs. Nugent and my ma
were good friends, you know.

Okay, then. Chopping up, the end.

- Commandos, please.
- Banzai, you yellow sons of Nippon dogs.

Yeah.

We're all gathered here to pray...

for the redemption of Francis Brady
for his terrible crime.

You're doing the right thing, Francie.
Thank God.

That's enough talk, let's get it over with.

- She's right down here.
- Keep going.

- For fuck's sake, who put that there?
- What?

- This.
- God.

- Go and get him, come on.
- Come...

- Okay, okay...
- Around the back, quick.

Francie Brady escapes, read all about it.

Come here.

Come on, sergeant.

Fugitive Francie Brady still at large.

It is reported that Richard Kimble,
only last night, said:

"I have to admit it,
Francie Brady beats me hands down."

- What do you see, what do you see?
- Nothing.

- There must be some clues in there.
- No, nothing.

- Call yourself a detective?
- Hey, boys.

Do youse want to find
a million billion Flash bars, yeah?

- They're looking everywhere for you.
- Do youse want them or don't youse?

- I suppose so. Where are they, then?
- In a dung heap behind Leddy's.

Leddy's.

House, you are a disgrace.

I have so much tidying up to do,
I don't know where to start.

- How many did he say?
- I forget.

I know it was a lot, but...

And now for the most amazing
Francie Brady bonfire of all time.

Hi-ho, Silver, away!

- That's Mrs. Nugent's head!
- So that's where she went.

But what about the Flash bars?

- There's someone in there.
- I'm on it.

Get back.

Go right now, right here.

- Right, come along, come on.
- Pick him up, pick him up.

Come on, clear back, clear back.
Clear the way, clear the way.

What about my friend Francie Brady?
Clear the way.

Youse aren't burned, are youse?
It's all right for youse.

And you went in
to save the wee fella by yourself?

- You would have done the very same.
- I would not.

I'd have been scared out of me life.

Jesus, Francie, I think you deserve
a drag of the cigarette.

Sure, thank you.

Or maybe you'd like some more sweets?

Yeah, sure, yeah.

But that was all a long, long time ago.

Sure, you're a grand old topper.

They put Francie Brady
in the garage for bad bastards...

and gave him a new job making baskets.

And after he'd made
a million trillion baskets...

they said they'd let him out again.

You're going back into the world, Francie.

We think you're ready for it.

You'll be in what we call
a halfway house.

Between this one and the next.

The next world, doc?

The real world, Francie.

It's time you joined it.

It'll take some adjustment...

but as long as we anticipate
all of the problems...

then everything should be fine.

I haven't seen fields for so long, doc.

Man, but it was sure good
outside that old garage.

The sheep were munching away
at the grass.

The breeze was blowing
and the sea was singing...

swish, swish along with it.

Francie Brady had got the
Not-a-Bad-Bastard-Anymore Award at last...

and he wishes Father Bubbles
could see him now.

No more aliens or chopping up
or any of that old shite.

If anyone thought Francie Brady was
getting in trouble again, they're wrong.

Trouble, no thank you.

So there it is, Francie Brady,
butcher boy, the end.

Fuck, Mother of Jesus.

- Hello, stranger.
- How are you, Francie?

Haven't seen you for a power of years.

It's not that I haven't been thinking
about you, Francie.

What are you doing, missus...

still talking to the likes of me?

God loves every one of us, Francie.

But you know something, Francie?

He has a very special place
in his heart for you.

No, missus, you'll have to stop
this appearing and disappearing crack...

or they'll put me back in there.

Joe loves you too, Francie.

But the world goes one way
and we go another.

Do you get my meaning?

So don't go bothering your head
about goldfish anymore, all right?

Or a hundred million Flash bars.

Promise me, Francie?

Tell me something, missus.

Are all the beautiful things gone?

No, Francie.

They're all still there.

Look, here's one of them.

Picked a flower, did you, Francie?

A snowdrop.

They're late this year.

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