Original subtitles

Ever wanted to be the imaginary friend

of an idiot boy in the west of Ireland?

Me, neither, but there you go.

Allow me to introduce Martin Paul Kenny Dalglish Moone.

Martin Moone was a simple child,

the sort of tender boy who would care for a poor, injured chaffinch.

Or indeed a deceased chaffinch, thinking it was injured.

You'll be back on your feet in no time, Missus Magpie.

Her breathing is becoming faint.

All right. Well, you know what to do, buddy, don't be shy.

But according to the school bullies, the Bonner brothers,

Martin was just a simpleton who kissed dead birds.

Moone's shifting a dead bird. You're such a gay.

No, lads, whoa! That's not shifting. There was no tongue there.

You die now! - It's medical shifting!

Kung-fu!

Hit the gut! You get wedgie!

- Stop hitting yourself. - Stop hitting yourself.

- I'm just a boy! -Game over!

Come on, chin up, buddy.

Can't let a little roughhousing dampen your spirits.

Remember, tomorrow's your big day. Things get way easier when you turn 12.

- Yeah. The big 1-2. - That's right.

I bet they're right in there, planning out your party as we speak.

I'm home! Better hide my presents.

- Mum says you were a mistake. - Not a... Not a mistake! An accident.

* Dancing at the disco, bumper to bumper

* Wait a minute, where's me jumper?

* Where's me jumper, where's me jumper?

* Where's me jumper, where's me jumper? Oh, no *

Well, that's a bad habit he'll soon get over.

Particularly with Blake going to prison.

Prison? What are you talking about? - Haven't you read the Mirror?

What about the Mirror?

There's a front page story...

What's that you're making?

It's, uh, your birthday present.

Oh! And what's that?

- A cravat? - And what's that?

Oh, by the way, I loved that outfit when I first saw it.

I'm amazed it's lasted so many seasons.

Come on!

I'm going down the bridge. Can I have some money?

Is that my nut?

No, this is my nut. I don't know anything about your nut.

Dad, does Mum have any cotton pads? - Like sanitary pads?

Yeah, Dad. I want to wipe off my make-up with a tampon.

It remains unclear how long Mr Keenan

may potentially remain in captivity.

I wish I was in captivity.

Martin embraced his great new age with optimism and gay abandon.

* Happy birthday, happy birthday *

Which he abandoned very quickly. - A biro?

Cool. I don't have to finish wrapping it now.

I already gave you your present.

- Yes, you did. -Ta-da!

This had better be vouchers, Fidelma. - It is. Sort of.

"I owe you one present. Love, Fidelma."

I always think your birthday's in August.

So why don't you give me what you got me in August?

I just did.

And now for the main event. Happy birthday, pal.

* Happy birthday, happy birthday *

No. Surely they haven't got you something decent.

It must be a bicycle-shaped sock.

Or a bicycle-shaped toilet brush.

Or a bicycle-shaped kick in the arse.

Wow! A bicycle-shaped bicycle!

Don't get too excited. It's only from Readybix.

Shut your hole, Sinead.

Yes! It's the Readybix bike! Thank you! This is amazing!

But how? You needed 50 tokens!

Well, let's just say I hope you all like Readybix.

-Oh, no! - I'm not eating that turf.

- Hi, Padraic. - Whoa! A Readybix bike!

Any chance I could have a go on it?

Faster, Martin. Faster.

Hello, Mr Farmer. Hello, Mr Farmer's dog!

- Howdy, pigs! - Hey, it's the Readybix boys.

Give us some Readybix.

Eat our dust, fantasy pigs. -

- Hey, Moone. - Nice bike.

Oh, balls!

- You cycled into a door? - It just came out of nowhere.

It's wrecked, Martin. How many times did you cycle into the door?

There were two doors.

- Which doors? Where? - What really happened, Martin?

This isn't the first time you've banged into things.

Do you remember you said you fell into a tree?

That's not even possible, is it?

Well, to be honest, the bike fell apart pretty easily.

There were no structural problems with that bike, Martin Moone.

Was it those Bonner boys again?

They've been giving him a hard time at school.

- Right. - Where are you going?

Nobody bullies my boy.

- Except maybe Sinead. - You going to beat them up, Dad?

I'm going to go up and speak to their father.

If it's a pleasant chat, fine. If not, so be it.

Oh, that's what I'm talking about.

Well, nothing lifts the spirits like a nice bowl of Readybix.

Shut up.

- Hello there. - Are you Mr Bonner?

- Gerry Bonner, yes, indeed. - Right. Well, my name is Liam Moone...

Hello, Lee Moone.

Hello. Now, listen.

My son goes to school with your boys and they...

Oh, no, they're awful, aren't they?

- Sorry? - I mean, I love them,

of course I do, but they're awful.

Let me guess. Now, you've come over here today

because Conner and Jonner have done

something rotten to your boy, am I right?

- They broke his new bicycle. - Oh!

They're awful bullies. I'm so sorry, is he okay?

Yeah, well, he's a bit shaken up, yeah.

Of course he is, the poor lad.

I don't know what to do with them any more.

I mean, you probably came over here now,

expecting me to be some horrible, angry brute

who bullies his kids, who in turn go out and bully other kids, am I right?

- Well, kinda. Yeah. - Well, I'm not.

I'm a good person.

- You seem like a good person. - Thank you.

You seem like a good person, too. - Thank you.

God, I hate my kids.

I'm not too crazy about my own.

They're awful, aren't they? Children.

I mean, here we are, two decent fellas full of compassion

and willingness to love, and what do we get in return?

Hassle.

See? You know.

Listen, there's nobody in at the minute.

Do you want to come in for a quick cup of tea?

Well, I don't know.

You've the look of a man who wants a cup of tea, now. Huh?

- All right, then. - Good man.

Is that a hammer in your pocket?

Let me guess. You were planning to beat me to death with it, weren't you?

- I was indeed. - Bloody kids!

- Ah! - Did I say tea? I meant gin.

Yes! Face!

Huh? Yeah!

Hey, buddy, how are you?

- I'm good, Dad. How are you? - I'm good.

How are you?

- So how did "hammer-time" go? - Oh! Yeah.

Those Bonner brothers. They sound awful.

I'd steer clear of them if I were you. All righty? Night-night, hairy head.

I have a feeling he didn't kill them. - Not a chance.

No, I think you're out on your own in this one, buddy.

You know what you need?

- A bully protector. - A rabid dog.

Or a bully protector.

There was only one man for the job, Declan Mannion.

Feared and respected in equal measure, he was a bully's bully,

and bought a degree of class and innovation to the whole bullying game.

He invented the Cambodian Burn.

Similar to the Chinese burn...

But with his own unique twist.

That's my John Hancock, you sap cock.

Wait.

He added an element of witchcraft to the wet willy.

- Why is my other ear wet? - You've been hydronated, hombre.

And sure, he'd take your lunch money every Monday.

But he'd use that cash to bet on greyhounds.

Come on, you one-eared bitch!

And if he won, he'd return the funds,

And if he won, he'd return the funds, without interest, every Friday.

without interest, every Friday.

Here you go, Padraic. Have a nice weekend.

Authoritative but respectful tone.

Mr Mannion, could I have a word?

What's troubling you, Moone face?

Well, I'm having a little bother with the Bonner brothers.

Protection's a service I provide. It's going to cost you, though.

Cost me what, roughly?

A feel of your sister's boobs.

- I'm sorry, what was that? - A feel of your sister's boobs.

Should have gone with rabid dog.

Take it or leave it, Marty McCry.

Seems fair.

We have ourselves a deal, sir.

Leave me now. Hounds won't pick themselves.

- One more thing. Which sister? - Whichever one has boobs! You tit!

Martin had never paid much attention to his sisters' boobs before.

But on weighing up their assets, he cluelessly deciphered that Trisha,

his most violent sister, was best suited to Declan's needs.

With the dirty Declan deal in place,

Martin approached his sister with his favourite bribing beverage.

Hey, Trish! Made you a cuppa. Tea.

Wow, that's a cool...

Whatever it is.

Anyhoo, I was wondering if you might do me a wee favour.

Probably not. What do you want?

Well, silly thing. You know the way you have boobs?

Put Padraic's lunch money on Patooties to win,

Codology in second, and Nickelback third.

Ooh, that does not look good.

Oh, is that your banjo?

-What? - Oh, it's such a fun instrument.

I've always wanted to have a go. - Not now, Sean.

I want to hear what Trisha says.

Who do you think you are, you perv?

Asking to feel my? Well, guess what face?

The only part of me you'll ever feel

is my foot kicking you up the hole.

Got that? You little.

All right. Come on. Sort that shit out.

Sorry about that. Take two.

So, let's talk about my sister Sinead instead.

What are your general feelings about back acne?

I think I'm in...

Oh, sorry, my mistake. He loves her.

Sinead! Please!

- What? -Liam?

- You sound tense. - Oh, Gerry! Sorry, no, it's just the...

- Kids? - Yeah.

Listen, I was just thinking that you might like to pop along to our poker group.

Tonight?

It's a bit short notice.

-It wasn't me! - I'll be there in an hour.

- Would she like that? - No, I don't think she's into teddies.

- That? - I think she's okay on staplers.

- That? - Soup?

- Everyone likes soup. - Um... Yeah, I suppose.

Great, give me your money. I don't have any money.

But Martin knew that a little more romance

might be required to win Trisha over.

"Your fire burns bright. Like the sun.

"Which is incredibly hot. Like a fire.

"Which burns bright. Like the sun."

Mmm. That's beautiful. That's beautiful, Martin.

Maybe you could ruminate on her appearance a little more?

Read back what you've got.

"I love your mousy hair, like a beautiful mouse.

"And your pale, blemished skin.

"And your scent. You smell even nicer than..."

- Crisps. - "Crisps."

I smell like crisps?

- Nicer than crisps. - Is Declan in the special class?

And he got you this as well.

- Soup? - The thinking man's tea.

Oh, wait, is this a piss-take of love letters and stuff?

Is he trying to be ironic or something? - Yeah, obviously.

Hmm. That's kind of funny. I suppose.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I love being a father

but I've given so much of myself...

Yeah.

That I don't even recognise the parts that are left.

Yeah. Like what Liam was saying about the window in his workshop.

You can fix it. But who fixes you? -

And they're so feckin' dirty. -

My Declan washes his feet in the toilet. Just because he can.

- Little bastard. - Right.

Well, lads, I gotta say,

that this little gathering has been very, cathartic,

but I have to admit something here.

I don't know how to say this but... - Go on, Liam. Be Dad, not sad.

I don't actually know how to play poker.

Worry not, Liam. None of us do.

- But I thought this was... - I think you know what this is.

I don't even own a deck of cards.

Well, this is pleasant.

Come here, ducks.

You're feeding the ducks?

Yeah, Martin said you like feeding them.

When I was about 10. I don't feed the ducks any more.

Of course not. Feck off, ducks!

What's he waiting for? Go on, man, lunge! Lunge!

That's it. Kiss her. Kiss her good. Shift my sister.

Deadly.

So, how did it go, little one?

He kisses like a washing machine. - A washing machine?

Oh, he's so amazing, isn't he? How about a proper date next?

- To the pictures? We'll pay. - "We?"

I mean, us men. In this case, him.

What's on?

Oh, it's about a fella called Edward. With scissor hands.

- Like Freddy Krueger? - Yeah, it's a sequel.

So, listen, once you've, you know...

You'll keep your side of the bargain? - Fear not, Moone.

Once a tit's been cupped, I can interrupt.

Oh, and keep kissing her like a washing machine.

- I think she likes that. - Sound.

I'll let you know the boobie outcome anon.

Stay tarty, Marty.

Washing machine, huh?

Moone! Shifting yourself now? Did you run out of dead sparrows?

Stop! I'm too busy to fight just right now,

but I'll fight yous tonight, outside the cinema.

- It's a date, Moone. - But not in a gay way.

- How are you lads? -Hey!

How are you, Liam?

Did you forget your fishing rod?

Oh, Jesus, are we actually fishing?

- Gotcha! - Get that into ya.

- Thanks, Gerry. - You're welcome.

Ah!

- Ah, yeah, Jesus, this is nice. - Magnificent, isn't it?

Queers!

Conner and Jonner Bonner, get back here at...

I'm sorry, lads.

You know, lads, I've been thinking.

Maybe we just need to put the foot down with our kids.

- Shut up, Liam. - No, he's right.

Yeah, I mean, look at us. We're big, beautiful men.

We shouldn't let ourselves be pushed around

by a bunch of stupid little kids.

Exactly.

I mean, I can't even watch my watercolouring programme

because it clashes with Dynasty. I mean, that cannot be right, can it?

No.

I think It's time that we stood up and took action.

- Yeah. - Yeah!

Who's got a gun?

Not too heavy on the eyes. Let those puppies shine.

This is it. Yeah.

Make yourselves at home, lads. Would anyone like any Readybix?

-Ooh! - Ooh-la-la.

Hey, Liam, I didn't know your new friends were coming over.

Oh, yeah, they are.

We're going to watch some watercolouring.

Oh, okay. How was the fishing? Did you catch anything?

Idiot.

- Switch over, please. - No, Dad. Dynasty's on.

- I think we'd better leave. - No, wait, lads.

This is exactly what I'm talking about.

- It's foot-down time. - He's right.

We're not watching Dynasty.

We're watching my watercolouring programme.

- You're so brave. - Where's the remote?

Dad, I need some money, I'm going to the pictures.

- Do I look like a bank to you? - Kinda.

Come on, Dad, she needs popcorn money. - Yeah, Dad. Don't be scabby.

- No! I won't take this any more! - Go on, Liam.

Look, I'm the man of the house.

Just like these fellas here. We are the men.

Of the houses.

Stop laughing! Don't laugh! Right, you're grounded!

You're all grounded.

- But I'm going on a date. - No you're not. No one's going anywhere.

Everyone's grounded.

- Mum? - Am I grounded?

Yes, this is a lockdown.

And so in the absence of fights or boob-feeling,

Martin returned to the battleground of the school yard

as unprotected as ever.

- Hey, look, lads, a new fella. - A new fella?

Yeah, a new fella.

Hey, I'm Trevor. What's your names?

New challenge!

Come on! I give you dead leg!

Kung-fu! Kung-fu!

I feel bad.

Don't beat yourself up about it, Marty.

Sure, it's really Trevor's fault, for being new.

You are so right.

Hey, I know, I'll just cheer him up afterwards.

* Nothing lifts the spirits like a nice bowl of Readybix *

You are so sweet.

Hello there.

- You Mr Bonner? - Gerry Bonner, yes, indeed.

Look, I'm Trevor's dad, and your two boys...

Trevor's dad. Come on in. We're playing charades.

Listen, I've got a child at home crying.

I don't know how to play charades. - None of us do. Come on.

Come on, you can go in. Huh?

Right.

* 'Cause I was dancing at the disco, bumper to bumper

* Wait a minute, where's me jumper?

* Where's me jumper, where's me jumper?

* Where's me jumper, where's me jumper? Oh, no *