FRANK (VOICEOVER): Comes a time in a man's life
where he has to sit back, take stock of things,
and ponder that old philosophical chestnut--
how the fuck did I end up here?
I'll tell you who's to blame for this, me family.
My wonderful, wonderful family.
Someone's got to put food on the table.
All right, so maybe I claimed benefits that I shouldn't have.
You ask me, that shows initiative.
But no, six months with time off for good behavior.
Hey, Gallagher.
What?
FRANK (VOICEOVER): extra three for being a naughty boy.
It's the boredom that gets you.
You know, you miss the simple things.
Drugs, alcohol, being able to drop the soap
in the shower with impunity.
MUSIC: It's so unfair, can't you see?
Can't you see, y'all?
FRANK (VOICEOVER): Even miss the family, you know, a little bit.
Still, every day, freedom comes closer and closer.
MUSIC: I wear my socks up to my knees.
It's all right.
Too much peace and not enough war.
It's time, Frank.
See ya.
MUSIC: It's so unfair, can't you see?
Can't you, y'all?
Be a good lad, Frank.
Head straight home.
MUSIC: Can't you see, y'all?
Can't you see, y'all?
FRANK (VOICEOVER): It makes you wonder though,
are you just stepping out of one prison--
MONICA: Frank!
FRANK (VOICEOVER): --and straight back into another?
Well, she looks familiar.
Mavis?
Margaret?
Oh, no, no, wait, wait, Monica, innit?
I remember you.
Been a while.
Three months since you last bothered to visit.
I thought you might want some space.
I brought you some fags and a cam.
[car horn]
They're in the car.
You look well.
You don't.
I know you've been around the block a bit, Monica,
you know, it's just a shame you didn't jog around it.
It's just a bloody joke.
It's been an emotional time.
Well, yeah, of course.
Most societal structures collapse
when the patriarchal figure is removed.
Frank?
I had a lot of hopes and dreams when I was your age.
Places I wanted to go.
Things I wanted to do.
Ambition.
None of them involve growing a fucking 'stash.
So where to?
Pub.
Home.
Home it is.
Hiya, Frank.
Enjoy your holiday?
I've had worse.
You've been busy.
Oh, well, I'm not the only one.
Come on, let's get You inside.
All right.
What's the rush?
Oh, I know what's going on.
You do?
Party!
Dad!
Yeah, hi.
Where's everybody else?
This is my maths test.
This is my English.
And this is art. - Right, lovely.
So what, is this you crying because you
dad is all banged up there?
No, that's Jesus.
He's upset because you did a bad thing.
Yeah, well, bit judgemental of the lad.
I mean, he's never had to struggle.
No wife, no kids, and his dad was God.
Silver spoon up the ass, that one.
She did really want to visit your more, just Monica's all--
you know.
Monica's what?
Got burning ears, apparently.
Monica.
Eh, jockey's open now.
Free man deserves a drink, eh?
I thought you'd never ask.
Are you coming back?
Back on all fours, hopefully.
Monica.
Well, a couple of drinks will soften the blow.
Come on, shift it.
Frank, once you get a drink, there's something
we've got to talk about.
Oh, don't ruin the moment, Mon.
Calm before the proverbial storm.
Wait for it.
Party!
13.40.
So what, we're early?
Pounds.
Your tab.
Plus interest for every month it wasn't paid,
so, we'll call it 20.
You got done. Don't expect a reward.
Expect?
It's my right as a free man.
I want me party.
Oh, for gods sake, Frank, I'll buy you a drink.
A drink?
No, no, no, I don't want to drink.
I want parades, banners, dancing fucking elephants.
But, no, you couldn't do that for me, could ya?
You know, that one, little thing.
When's my time, Mon?
When's my fucking party?
Frank--
Oh yeah, that's guilt, that is, eating away at you.
And that's, you know, you pissing yourself,
because-- well, the same.
Fuck sake, Frank.
She's having a baby, you idiot.
No she's not.
We can't.
I know, and I'm going to deal with it.
I promise you.
Family's big enough, there'll be no more.
She had an abortion.
I was going to tell you but it-- its wasn't the-- it
wasn't the right time.
Well, it's a bit late now.
You promised.
You fucking promised me.
I did, The abortion.
Well if you are the abortion, what the bloody hell is that,
tape worm?
It were twins.
One of them survived.
Frank, she's having a baby, right now,
whether you like it or not.
So go and get hot water and towels.
Move it.
She's got her fucking claws in me.
Bloody hell.
I'm sorry.
Argh.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
All right, all right.
Don't worry, we'll sue 'em.
Benefits, clothing allowance, room and board, everything.
They fucked up. This is the NHS' baby, not ours.
Might even make a profit.
I didn't have it on the NHS.
I wanted to have it holistically,
so I saw this lovely woman, Linda Wallace.
She said she is part Cherokee, and she said
that it was a more natural way.
Ah, fu-- scalding bath and a bottle of gin,
a one way trip down the staircase,
but no, you had to go and visit Gypsy Rose-- fucking--
Lee.
She's Cherokee, not Romany.
She comes from bloody Southend-on-Sea.
All right.
Come on, Mon, you push now.
MONICA: Come on son, you can do it.
You're a survivor.
Come on, son.
Argh.
Monica.
Right.
Nothing personal, just, I had plans for you.
Like not being born plans.
What's with the fancy dress?
Going for ice cream.
Oh, no, no, you lot got a baby to look after it.
I can't do it all me self.
It's his birthday.
18.
Oh, so you've come of age?
Which means we don't get child benefits to look you anymore.
No.
Great.
Another fucking waste of space, leeching off of us.
You've got to do something about her, Frank.
She's not left her room all week.
You need an extra pair of hands.
It's all right.
Are you planning on rejoining society anytime soon?
I've killed a baby, Frank.
I've snuffed out a tiny, little light.
Do you know how that feels?
It wasn't a baby.
It was barely even a fetus.
I've coughed up stuff with more personality.
[baby crying]
That.
That downstairs, with lungs like Pavarotti, that's a baby.
It's been a week since you've even glanced at him.
I've got post-natal.
Oh, every time.
Post-natal, prenatal.
It's always excuses with you, Mon.
How can I hold that baby, knowing
what I've done to his brother.
Knowing what I've taken from him.
They would have been besties.
They would have dressed the same.
They would got into all kinds of scrapes.
Bill and Ben, the fabulous Gallagher boys.
Please, please, please, please forgive me.
Please, forgive me.
Please, please, please.
This isn't even you kid.
This is the bloody Oxfam Africa baby.
There's no need to be racist.
No.
I told you no more kids.
You made the choice.
And you are not making me take care of a fucking child alone.
So whatever you think this-- this fucking Christmas tree is
for-- whatever help you think that it's giving ya,
it's clearly not enough, is it?
You're right.
It's not.
We need to have a funeral for little Bill.
Go down to Ches' and get some fizzy wine.
Decent stuff.
And what are you going to do?
There's lots to organize.
Right, good, more like it.
Muslim matchmakers are very respected in--
Yes, I know.
Frank.
Uh, some sparkling wine and some beer.
Please?
No, welcome back. Good to see.
How have been?
Why?
Did you go somewhere?
You really are a pig ignorant, piece of shit.
Aren't you, Gallagher?
No.
I'm fine, thanks.
She is doing my fucking head in.
I said to Ches I'd cover while Mary Mae shits out that baby.
Didn't know I'd have to deal with that psycho.
So, about this drink.
I can't, Frank.
I know what you're like.
You'll have a few drinks, a few too many,
end up sticking it in Monica again.
Nine months later, little baby.
7 billion folk on this planet.
Somebody's got to take a stand.
It's not for me.
It's for Mon.
She got the baby blues.
Please.
All right.
I'll serve you if you can name all
your kids without hesitating.
So there's, uh--
Uh, hesitation.
Fuck off, Frank.
Come on, the nearest offie's fucking miles away.
Give you a chance to think about what you've done.
Hey, Mac.
[knocking on door]
Sorry, my dad's not in.
He's out looking for work and my mom's
helping the mental handicap.
FIONA: Relax, it's all right, I'm not the social, I'm Fiona.
I got the call to come home.
What about this one?
Second, second reminder.
- So? - Bin.
Right.
Remember red means dead.
But brown--
Goes down.
Look good.
Hows uh-- what's his name?
Steve.
No.
Is it Steve?
That doesn't sound right.
Fine.
Your grandson is fine too, thanks for asking.
She's my sister.
So what, you like, just happened
to be in the neighborhood?
Mum called about the D-E-A-D B-A-B-Y.
Dead baby.
Oh, right, yeah, about that--
Fiona.
How are ya?
Much better for the seeing you, love.
Mom, you're dressed.
Is it too much?
It's all right to show a little bit of tit at a funeral,
isn't it?
What do you think?
Hello, opinions, opinions.
Normally you're full of them.
I'm just so--
I'm just sorry, Mum.
What you have to go through, losing the baby.
I made a little coffin.
They showed you how to do it on Blue Peter.
I think it was really for household pets.
So, uh-- do you want me to go pick up the--
the body.
I mean, is it at the undertakers or the hospital or--
I think that they probably just flush it down the toilet.
They wouldn't do that.
Oh, well they don't understand, do they, Fiona.
I mean, they're just like your father.
It's a fetus, it doesn't have a personality.
But what's an acorn?
It's just an oak tree waiting to happen.
So when you said the baby was stillborn--
Well, I don't know the exact technical term.
I mean, termination sounds a bit harsh, doesn't it?
I have dropped everything.
I have rushed over here.
You haven't changed, have you?
Always ready to judge me.
I've not changed?
This is you all over. Milking it.
Playing the victim. Center of attention.
Meanwhile, there's a real baby downstairs, a bunch of bills,
and a whole world you've ignored because it
doesn't revolve around you.
Tears are not going to work.
You are right, Fiona.
I'm a terrible, terrible, person.
You're right.
[sirens]
I told ya.
Out of jail for a week.
They'll be dragging him again.
Always happens like that.
They get institutionalized, see.
You'd speak to Mum?
Nah, just a text.
She say who?
Nah, just one of me brothers were.
I'm glad it weren't you.
I wasn't stealing from her.
Hey, don't you lot need a warrant to get in here?
He's got his badge on, innit?
- Is it Ian? - Is who Ian?
What are you talk--
Just tell us who's dead, Dad.
Please not little Liam.
Did your mother call you?
Fucks sake.
You know who she's got up there with her?
Fiona.
Nobody's dead.
Your mother got up the duff twins.
She had an abortion.
50% success rate thanks to Cherokee Linda.
50%?
I know why they call your lot a plod.
He's saying we've got a new family member, mate.
All right, so, why did she call us here then?
Probably to say goodbye to whatever slid down her leg.
Oh, that's a classic.
It's crazy.
Yeah, and it's driving me fucking crazy.
So listen, just show up, be nice, and do what she wants.
Who's our new brother or sister we've got,
Does it matter?
It's a baby.
It cries, it shits, it eats money.
Fuck sake, this is ridiculous.
I got told this was an emergency.
It is an emergency, Carl.
Unless you think that a soul being trapped in limbo
is something to be snickered at.
I didn't mean it--
Carl, show some respect.
Mother.
Sweet Sister.
Brothers Grimm.
[baby crying]
I'll see to that, shall I?
Oh, as you're nearest.
Thanks, love.
I don't know how to stop him crying, I'm sorry.
[baby crying]
This it?
No Ian, no Liam, no Deborah.
She's in Afghanistan, isn't she?
Still, you might have thought that flying home
for her own brother's funeral might have
been slightly more important.
Still, typical Debbie.
Just goes to show.
Have you not changed yet?
You got this one.
Better than nothing, I suppose.
[baby crying]
You've got nothing to be sorry about.
There's a-- a place that I read
about called the rainbow road.
And when you lose someone, a family member, someone
you love, even a pet, they're not really gone,
they're just waiting for you.
I'll see you again, little William Gallagher.
We all will.
On the rainbow road.
When it's our time.
[singing]
Somewhere over the rainbow--
What's up with you?
I'm giving this event the exact level
of respect it deserves.
She's our mum.
You don't change, do you?
World's just there for you to take a piss on it.
Do you know what's in that box we're burying?
I'll give you a clue.
Starts with fuck, ends with all.
Means something to here.
Mum loves having kids.
Mum loves being pregnant.
She likes being the center of attention.
She hates having kids.
That's the glitch in the master plan.
You still think you're better than the rest of us, yeah?
Carl!
I'm sure whatever you want to discuss
with Philip is very important.
But we're trying to bury your dead brother,
so can it just wait a minute?
(SINGING) If happy little bluebirds fly above
the rainbow why, oh why can't--
[belching]
How much did he weigh when he was born?
Well I don't want to, you know,
put an exact figure on it.
You know, 'cause they can get sensitive, you know,
bulimic and that.
Right, 'course.
He had all his shots?
Diphtheria, tetanus, polio, bubonic plague.
Is there a point to this?
He's fine.
Look, he's happy as a baby.
Nothing about this is fine.
Oh, here it comes.
Why can you never come back with a smile on your face.
You always have to slip a dagger in there, don't ya?
I'm just saying.
Don't do to Stella what you did to me.
Yeah, give her a nice life, happy home,
you know, family around her.
I didn't get much of a childhood.
You made me the mother.
You fucked off and abandon us.
Riding out on your high horse out of town.
Some fucking mother you turned out to be, eh?
Told you not to come back.
Wait-- wait up.
Take Frank down to the pub.
Monica.
Get them nice and drunk.
Funeral party.
You're not seriously falling for this bullshit, are you?
I'm taking the kids.
Just tell me from the heart that you think that it's
the wrong thing to do.
That they'd be better off here with them.
Just say it and I'll keep it short and do nothing.
Drinks are on me.
Don't worry, Fiona's going to babysit the kids.
Stella.
Never hear the end of that one.
Thanks Fiona, total star as always.
Yeah.
[knocking]
What?
Not bothering answering your phone?
Ah, no.
Not when it's me day off and trying to have a lie-in.
I just need to go home for an hour or so.
I need to speak to Steve about something and me
head's all over the place-- - How is it, yeah, hi Kev.
How are you, Kev. Sorry I woke you, Kev.
I just need your help.
No.
Oh no, no, I can't. I can't.
I'm rubbish with kids.
This is Frank's daughter, Stella.
And this is his new baby.
This is Uncle Kev.
Just Kev. Kev.
Kev's fine.
Why can't Frank look after them?
Fiona, what have you gone and done?
I can't just turn up at home with two new kids, can I?
I need to at least warn Steve.
Once I explain to him what it's like for them
here with mum and dad, how bad it is,
he'll probably suggests the idea himself,
say, bring them to stay here.
Oh.
You do realize I'm still saying no, right?
Two hours tops.
You just said one a minute ago.
Oh, Fiona.
Fiona.
So you're Stella?
what's this one called?
Heineken?
I keep on thinking about, you know, what might have been.
His little face lighting up on Christmas day.
Is that a bike, mommy?
Did Santa bring it all the way from the North Pole.
Poor kid.
Just like Elvis.
He had a stillborn twin brother.
The King.
He was haunted by it all his life.
Don't say that.
Yeah, don't.
Maybe I should have another, you know, to keep him company.
Oh, you want to give your fanny a rest,
love, overworked as it is.
Eh, come on, Mon.
Turn that frown upside down.
You're finally getting out partying.
How can you celebrate at a time like this?
This whole thing was meant to cure your post-bloody-natalism.
Cure?
I'm not ill, Frank.
I'm a human being with feelings and emotions.
I've been through a very traumatic event.
How many kids have you had before?
Jesus, how many abortions, Mon? Eh?
You're in double figures.
So, come on cheer up.
We drink, a few pills, party.
That's the best medicine, right?
PHILIP (SINGING): Baby love, my baby love, baby--
What?
Can you not even pretend to take this seriously?
No.
I'm trying.
Fiona is, even dad's doing his best.
Oh yeah, Fiona's taking it real fucking serious.
Of the scale.
What's that supposed to mean.
Oh, mate.
Work out the pieces, Columbo.
We're here.
Fiona, Stella, the new baby, they're not.
Nah, she wouldn't.
She already has.
Wait, where are you going?
Where do you think?
Carl.
Don't say--
Enough.
Ahh.
Enough.
Stop it.
How dare you disgrace your brother's memory.
CARL: They nicked them.
They nicked them.
MONICA: What are you talking about?
PHILIP: Shut up.
CARL: Fiona, she's taken the kids.
I know.
No, away.
PHILIP: Carl, will you shut up?
Just shut it, will ya?
[coughing]
Frank.
What?
My babies.
Fiona.
She's taken my babies.
Babies eat Corn Flakes, don't they.
Babies eat Corn Flakes, everyone does, don't they?
Right.
Stella?
All right, playing hide and go seek, are ya?
All right, you've won.
Oh no.
No.
Stella!
So much for happy bloody families.
Where's Fiona taking 'em?
I'm not telling you fucking anything.
You're a squealer.
What if it were your kid, Lip?
Eh, what if Fiona decided you weren't
fit to look after Katie, eh?
We'll get the police on her.
The social, everyone.
I am not Everyone that uppity bitch take my children from me.
Not now, not ever.
Shh, shush now.
Don't shush me.
No, this is what we've always wanted, Mon.
The big dream to be free of the kids.
Let them go, on a breeze.
You're a monster.
You've buried an empty fucking box today.
Get away from me.
You repulsive cunt.
I'm being honest.
I know we feel the same way.
This is it.
This is our chance.
Just get out, Frank.
I wish you would never, never come back.
Now out.
Go on. Out!
Go on.
Take a good look, eh?
Take a fucking photo.
'Cause this-- this is the last time you will ever
see Vernon Francis Gallagher.
I forgot me fags.
[crowd laughing]
Lost them.
I've lost- I've lost them.
What do you mean, you've lost 'em?
Well, one minute they were there, then they weren't.
Frank, I've lost--
I've lost your kids.
So sorry, mate.
See if you can make the rest of them disappear,
there'll be a little something extra in your pay packet
this week.
Frank, this is serious.
Kev Ball.
Smarter than he looks.
Admittedly, no great achievement, but he's
got no kids.
Nothing tying him down.
Oh, he's got it all sorted out, has our Kev.
But me.
16 years old, walks out of school for the last time.
World at me feet. What did I do?
I had kids.
Tons of 'em.
Boatloads of the mewling, whining twats.
Frank Gallagher, fucking genius.
Keep fucking and breeding.
Fucking and breeding.
Each kids 16 to 18 years, at least.
That's prison.
Socrates.
Alexander the Great.
Julius Caesar.
Leonard Da Vinci.
All great men.
None of them were stupid enough to have any kids.
But we can't all do great things, and life is long.
Have to fill it somehow.
Distract yourself. Films.
Telly.
Music.
Pub.
Fiddling on fucking mobile phones like the meaning of life
might pop up any second.
Worshipping overpaid ponces whose only loyalty
is to the almighty pound.
Waiting for that moment, that wonder that will put everything
into kind of order, who will say, your life was not in vain.
Mind you, I'd still let Frannie Lee shit in your mouth
for nothing.
Thought you was a different class,
though, like Buzzer and Bell.
[cheering sounds]
Yeah!
We're not really here.
But to fill your empty little life with family.
Ungrateful, selfish family.
That's the biggest joke of all.
Regret whatever you did or you didn't.
the lives you ruined, the ones you saved, makes no difference,
it all ends in dust.
I'm tired of pretended not to care.
Or caring not to pretend.
And I can't remember what it was like before them.
Before the fucking kids.
The bills, the towering horror of family
life casting a shadow over every single fucking breath I take.
Another mouth to feed.
Another wailing, anguished mouth to tell me what I already know.
I am not good enough.
And them, there always the ones to leave.
I've had it the wrong way around, should have been me.
Magic mystery bus to wherever.
One-way ticket, thank you. No return.
I'm the one who needs to walk away.
Dad.
What are you doing here?
I followed you.
Well don't.
You're better off with Fiona.
I mean, I don't paint eggs and go to the swing park.
Or have Teddy bears fucking tea parties.
You're better off We her.
Are you getting on mate, or what?
Get off.
You were a mistake.
Don't you get it?
You ruined my life the day you were born.
Oh, what's that? Another one?
Another trap.
You ruined my life.
[baby crying]
Right.
Look everywhere for 'em. Yeah?
Every street, every alley.
They've got to be here somewhere.
How'd you lose two fucking kids.
It's my day off.
Someone's going to have to keep Monica busy.
WOMAN IN SEARCH PARTY: Stella, come on now, where are you?
Me?
If she finds out their missing, boom.
How am I going to do that?
You're a smart lad, Kev.
You'll work something out.
Lillian, I need your help.
Stella?
SEARCH PARTY: Stella?
Feel for ya.
Not been around much, have ya?
Patreesha has practically taken over being Ches' mum.
Expect she'll be, ah--
pushing you out the picture when the baby pops out.
Nuh-uh.
We're family.
Where's Ches and Mary Mae now?
Down to Patreesha's.
Oh, right.
Stella?
Come on home.
What we going to do?
I don't know.
Fiona always sorted this shit out.
Yeah, well she's landed us all in it this time, hasn't she?
You know, Mum's going to go mental.
Stella.
You know what?
Call the police.
Have Fiona dragged of in fucking chains.
Fuck that.
What if you just don't find them?
I mean, Stella and the baby.
What if they're just gone?
Stella!
Didn't have me bus fair.
Quid should do it.
Never understood the appeal of these places.
I mean, look at that kid.
Definition of easily amused, that one.
Look kiddo, you don't have to part on bad terms.
You told me to go away.
Well, yeah, I did.
But--
You said I was a mistake.
Yeah, and it was, but, you know,
all me kids were mistakes.
Look, my father, he was--
You all right, love?
Is this man bothering you?
Oh great, it's the curtain twitchers.
I'm her dad, love.
He's not my dad.
She's just in a mood.
Do you know him.
He's not my dad.
Look, I think maybe you should leave.
Well, that's the plan.
So I suggest you should mind your own fucking beeswax.
[interposing voices]
I'm calling the police.
Look, I'm her fucking father.
He's not my dad.
It is a disgrace.
No where is safe from them these days, I'm telling you,
you weirdo.
I'm not one of them.
I'm one of you.
I'm just a simple person struggling with the hopes
and fears of parenthood.
My dad is nice and kind.
I'm kind.
And he never tells me to go away.
And he never shouts at me.
And he takes me places.
And he loves me.
I love you.
I want to go and play on the swings now.
See told ya.
So why don't you take your pitchforks
and go and torment some other poor bastard.
You gotta be careful, you know.
I'm sorry but you do look like a right weirdo.
Come on.
[baby crying]
Oh, for fuck sake.
Hi, Monica.
Where you off to.
Home.
I've got you this.
He needs a walk.
It's missing a leg.
It's a stray.
They we're going to put it down.
Terminate it.
Aw, it's only got three legs.
Yeah, I know.
Poor little bugger.
Nobody to love you.
Nobody to care, just like me, eh?
Aw, come here you.
You take your time.
Get acquainted.
Why are you being so nice to me?
I'm just being neighborly, you know, and all that.
I might be post-natal but I'm not post-stupid.
What are you hiding?
Kev?
Where's the kids?
Yes, that's the thing isn't it, Fiona?
You steal my children and then you
abandon them with this idiot.
It's my day off.
You lost them?
Well, don't blame him, you're the one that done this.
Oh, that's right.
I was the one who ignored them and made
Stella look after the little baby all by herself.
It was all me, Mum.
You get that one.
But that's all.
You should have been beaten every day of your life.
Why did you come back?
To show us where we were going wrong?
You asked me.
Well, I wish I hadn't.
You're tearing this family apart.
I was the one who kept it together for years.
I was the fucking glue.
No childhood. No let up.
Where were you.
Where the fuck was you?
All right.
Fiona.
Ow.
Hey, hey.
Can you keep the noise down?
The baby's sleeping.
Where were they?
With me.
We went to the swing park.
Why?
Was it a problem?
No, no, you are not doing this.
You are not whitewashing over this.
She stole our children.
Give me the baby, Frank.
Dad, it's dad.
Give him to me.
You are not taking our kids.
No, you're not.
You think this changes anything?
How long are you going to stay for this time, Mum?
How many years is it going to take to get a loaf of bread?
Stella.
Where's the baby?
In there with the dad.
Go on then, tell her.
She's not taking our children.
They're on my side.
We're not on anyone's side, Jesus.
You seriously think it's fine to leave
these kids with him and her.
You're right.
I mean you were stuck with us and look
what a fuck up you turned out.
Piss off.
Exactly.
You turned out OK.
And so did I. And Ian, well, Ian's marrying a tranny,
but, you know, it's wonderful.
Best of both worlds.
And Debbie.
Off tackling insurgents.
And Liam getting his act together.
Buddhism.
It's crazy.
What about me?
Could be worse.
Could be a Tory.
It doesn't change anything.
They don't care about us.
They never will.
Dad didn't get the bus.
He was going away, but he didn't.
Why not?
Well the financial issues vis-a-vis purchase of a ticket.
I'll lend it ya.
Nah.
I'll give it ya.
Anything you like.
You don't want to.
You can't, can you?
Not while there still some of us around.
Right, get your coats.
Get your coats.
Come on, you lot always think the worst about me, don't ya.
Come on.
Drinks for the family.
- It's OK. - OK, I'll do it.
I'm not useless.
I know your game.
Trying to sideline me.
Fucking wise to you.
Watch your your mouth, you.
Don't talk to her like that.
Fight me own battles, you mad bitch.
Who you calling a mad bitch?
I'm calling you a mad bitch.
Oh yeah?
Oh, it's not a party without a proper fight.
I'm so turned on right now.
You did a good job.
I suppose-- I suppose there are a couple of things
I could learn from ya.
Mum.
I can't.
I'm post-natal.
C'mon.
You're not bloody post-natal.
You just want to be the center of attention.
There's lots of things you don't know about me, Fiona Gallagher.
C'mon.
Ooh.
See?
[music - james, "laid"]
Come on, Fi.
Have a dance.
Come on.
Come on, we're dancing.
Come have a dance.
Somebody's nicked all our pills from behind the bar.
I wonder who that could be?
Tell you what.
Do us a favor and we'll say no more about it.
Some twat's still not shifted his car from outside.
You know what to do.
FRANK (VOICEOVER): My kids say they hate me.
but secretly, they love me.
And I love them.
But secretly hate them.
Well, not so secretly, but-- it doesn't matter.
They'll whinge and whine and moan and groan about the shadow
I cast. That I define their lives.
But it's all upside down.
It was Them that defined me.
Without them, I'm just that guy at the end of the bar.
That guy, quite possibly, soiling himself
on the public transport.
The fellow sitting slumped on the park bench
Sunday afternoon, as the world dissipates around him.
Or, you know, maybe I would have been an investment banker
with a surgically enhanced wife and a penis extension
for the cab.
But, either way, I'm not part of them, they're parts of me.
All of them.
What the fuck?
[group cheering]
FRANK (VOICEOVER): These annoying, ungrateful, amazing
bastards I called my kids, think for themselves,
speak their mind, go their own way,
show me how it should be done.
But most importantly, first and foremost to a man,
they'll always know what the most vital
necessity in this life is.
Right?
[sirens]
Scatter!
[music playing]