-- This programme contains very strong language.
-- '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.' --(MAN FARTS LOUDLY)
-- 'Someone's got to put food on the table.
'All right, so maybe I claimed benefits that I shouldn't have.
'Y'ask me, that shows initiative.
'But no - six months with time off for good behaviour.'
-- Gallagher!
-- What?
'Or an extra three for being a naughty boy.'
'It's the boredom that gets you. Y'know, you miss the simple things.
'Drugs. Alcohol.
'Being able to drop the soap in the shower with impunity.'
'Even miss the family. You know. A little bit.'
'Still, every day,
'freedom comes closer and closer.'
-- S'all right. Too much peace and not enough war.
-- Time, Frank.
-- See ya.
-- Be a good lad, Frank. Head straight home.
-- 'It makes you wonder, though.
'Are you just stepping out of one prison...'
-- Frank? >
-- 'And straight back into another?'
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've brought you some fags and a can.
CAR HORN BEEPS
They're in the car.
You look well.
-- You don't.
I know you've been round the block a bit, Monica, y'know,
but just a shame you didn't jog round it.
-- (SHE SOBS)
-- Just a bloody joke!
-- Been an emotional time.
-- Well, yeah, 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 'em involved growing a fuckin' moustache.
-- So, where to?
-- Pub.
-- Home.
-- Home it is.
-- All right, Frank. Enjoy your holiday?
-- I've had worse. You've been busy.
-- Well, I'm not the only one.
-- Come on. Let's get you inside.
-- All right, all right... what's the rush?
Oh. I know what's going on.
-- You do?
-- Pa-a-arty!
-- Dad!
-- Yeah, hi. Where's everybody else?
-- This is my maths test.
This is my English.
And this is art.
-- Right, lovely.
What, is this you? Crying because your daddy's all banged up?
-- No. That's Jesus. He's upset because you did a bad thing.
-- Yeah... well, bit judgmental of the lad.
I mean, he's never had to struggle. No wife, no kids
and his dad was God. Silver spoon up the arse, that one.
-- She did really want to visit you more. It's just Monica's all...
y'know...
-- Monica's what?
-- Got burning ears, apparently.
-- Monica!
-- Hey - Jockey's open now. Free man deserves a drink, eh?
-- Thought you'd never ask.
-- Are you coming back?
-- Back on all fours, hopefully.
-- Monica!
-- That 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. Wait for it...
Pa-a-a-arty!
-- 13.40.
-- So what, we're early?
-- Pounds. Your tab.
Plus interest for every month when it wasn't paid, so...
call it 20. You got done. Don't expect a reward.
-- Expect? It's my right as a free man. I want my party!
-- Oh, for God's sake, Frank, I'll buy you a drink...
-- A drink? No, no, no.
I don't want a drink, I want parades, banners, dancing fucking
elephants! But no, you couldn't do that for me, that one little thing!
When's my time, Mon? When's my fucking party?
-- Frank... Ohh!
-- Oh, yeah. That's guilt, that is. Eating away at you.
Yeah, and that's... y'know... pissing yourself because...
well... the same.
-- Fuck's 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 wasn't the...it wasn't the right time...
-- It's a bit late now! You promised, you fucking promised me...
-- I did, I had the abortion!
-- Well, if you had the abortion, what the bloody hell's that? Tapeworm?
-- 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!
-- Got her fuckin' claws in me...
-- Bloody hell!
-- (SHE SOBS)
I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
-- Aagh!
-- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!
-- All right, all right.
Don't worry.
We'll sue them, for benefits, clothing allowance,
room and board, everything. They fucked up.
This is the NHS's 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's part-Cherokee
and she said that it was a more natural way...
-- Ohh, f...
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!
-- Come on, Mon, you push now...
-- (MONICA SCREAMS AND GRUNTS)
< Come on, son, you can do it! You're a survivor!
NOISES FADE
-- Monica. Monica!
-- (BABY CRIES)
-- Nothing personal. It's just...
had plans for you. Not-being-born plans.
What's with the fancy dress?
-- Going for ice cream.
-- Oh, no, no, you lot have got a baby to look after.
I can't do it all myself.
-- It's his birthday.
-- Eighteen.
-- Oh, so you've come of age.
Which means we don't get child benefit to look after you any more.
-- No.
-- Great. Another fuckin' waste of space, leeching off us.
-- Gotta do something about her, Frank.
She's not left her room all week. You need an extra pair of hands.
-- S'all right, s'all right.
# When A Child Is Born
-- Are you planning on rejoining society any time 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 foetus.
I've coughed up stuff with more personality.
-- (BABY CRIES)
-- 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, pre-natal,
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've dressed the same.
They would've got into all kinds of scrapes. Bill and Ben.
The fabulous Gallagher boys.
Please, please, please, please, forgive me. Please, forgive me.
Please, please...
-- This isn't even your 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 another fucking child alone.
So whatever you think this... this fucking Christmas tree
is for, whatever help you think it's giving you -
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's and get some fizzy wine. Decent stuff.
-- And what are you gonna do?
-- There's lots to organise.
-- Right. Good. More like it.
-- Muslim matchmakers are very...
-- Yes, I know.
Frank.
-- Right, er, some sparkling wine and some beer...
..please?
-- No "welcome back", "good to see you", "how have you been?"
-- Why? Did you go somewhere?
-- You really are a pig ignorant piece of shit, aren't you, Gallagher?
-- Need a hand?
-- No, fine, thanks. She is doing my fucking head in.
I said to Ches I'd cover while Mary Mae shits out that baby,
but I 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, few too many,
end up sticking it in Monica again, nine months later, little baby.
Seven billion folk on this planet. Somebody's got to take a stand.
-- It's not for me. It's for Mon. She's got the baby blues. Please.
-- All right. I'll serve you.
If you can name all your kids.
Without hesitating.
-- So, there's, uh...
-- Hesitation! Fuck off, Frank.
-- Come on, the nearest offie is fucking miles away!
-- Gi'ya chance to think about what you've done.
Hiya, mate.
-- KNOCK AT DOOR
Sorry, my dad's not in, he's out looking for work
and my mum's helping the mental handicapped.
-- < 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.
How's, uh...whatsisname?
-- Steve.
-- No...
Is it? Steve? That doesn't sound right?
-- Fine. Your grandson's fine, too. Thanks for asking.
-- She's my sister.
-- So...you just happened to be in the neighbourhood...?
-- Mum called. About the...
..d-e-a-d b-a-b-y.
-- Dead baby.
-- Oh. Right. Yeah. About that...
-- Fiona! Ahhh!
-- How are you?
-- Much better for seeing you, love.
-- Mum, 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 d'you think?
Hello? Opinions, opinions?
Normally, you're full of them...
-- I'm just... I'm just sorry, Mum.
What you've had 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 at the undertaker's or the hospital or..?
-- I think they probably just flushed it down the toilet.
-- They wouldn't do that!
-- Oh, well, they don't understand, do they, Fiona?
They're just like your father.
It's a foetus, 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 - milkin' it!
Playing the victim, centre 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're right, Fiona. I'm a terrible, terrible person.
You're right.
-- POLICE SIREN
-- I told you. Out of jail for a week. They'll be dragging him in again.
Always happens like that. They get institutionalised, see?
-- You speak to Mum?
-- Nah, just a text.
-- Did she say who...?
-- No. Just one of me brother's were...
-- I'm glad it weren't you.
-- I'm glad it weren't you!
-- I wasn't stealing from her.
Here, don't you lot need a warrant? You can't just barge on in here...
-- Is it Ian?
-- Is who Ian? What you lot doing here?
-- Just tell us who's dead, Dad!
-- Please not little Liam?
-- Did your mother call you? Oh, fuck's 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.
Fifty percent success rate. Thanks to Cherokee Linda.
-- Fifty percent...
-- I know why they call your lot the plod!
He's saying we've got a new family member, mate.
-- Right, so... Why did she call us here, then?
-- Probably to say goodbye to whatever slid down her leg.
Oh, that's a classic...!
-- That's crazy.
-- Yeah, and it's driving me fucking crazy so listen, just shut up,
be nice, and do what she wants.
-- So is it a new brother or sister, we've got?
-- Does it matter? It's a baby. It cries, it shits, it eats money.
-- Fuck's sake... This is ridiculous. I was told it was an emergency.
-- It is an emergency! Or is a soul in limbo to be sniggered at!
-- I didn't me...
-- Carl. Show some respect.
Mother.
Sweet sister.
-- The Brothers Grimm.
(BABY CRIES) >
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.
-- This it, then? No Ian?
No Liam? No Deborah?
-- She's in Afghanistan, in'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?
Oh. You got this one.
Better than nothing, I suppose.
-- Shh, shh... You've got nothing to be sorry about.
-- There's a place that I read about, called the Rainbow Road.
And when you lose someone... a family member...
or 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.
# 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 the piss out of.
-- D'you know what's in that box?
I'll give you a clue.
It starts with "fuck" and ends with "all".
-- # Somewhere...
-- It means something to her.
Mum loves having kids. -- Nah.
Mum loves being pregnant.
She likes being the centre of attention.
She -- hates -- having kids.
That's the glitch in the masterplan.
-- Still think you're better than the rest of us, yeah?
-- Carl!
I'm sure whatever you want to discuss with Phillip is very important...
but we're trying to bury your dead brother.
So can it just wait a minute?
# If happy little bluebirds fly
# Above the rainbow
# Why, oh, why... can't... #
-- (BURPS LOUDLY)
-- How much did he weigh, when he were born?
-- I don't like to put an exact figure on it, y'know...
They can get sensitive. Bulimic, and that.
-- Right, course.
He had all his shots?
Diphtheria, tetanus, polio... Bubonic plague...?
-- Is there a point to this? He's fine!
He's happy as a...baby.
-- Nothing about this is fine.
-- Oh, here it comes.
Why can you lot never come back with a smile?
Always have to slip a dagger in there, don't you?
-- I'm just saying. Don't do to Stella what you did to me.
-- Yeah, give her a nice life, happy home, family around her?
-- I didn't get much of a childhood. You made me the mother.
-- You fucked off and abandoned us, riding your high horse out of town.
Some fucking mother you turned out to be, eh?!
-- Told you not to come back.
-- Lip. Wait up.
Take Frank down the pub. Monica. Get them nice and drunk.
Funeral party.
-- You're not seriously falling for his bullshit, are you?
-- I'm taking the kids.
Just tell me, from the heart, you think it's the wrong thing to do.
That they'd be better off here with them.
Just say it, and I'll keep it shut, and do nothing.
-- Drinks are on me! Don't worry. Fiona's going to baby-sit the kids.
-- Stella!
-- Never hear the end of that one!
Thanks, Fiona. Total star, as always.
-- Yeah.
KNOCK ON DOOR
What? Not bother answering your phone?
-- Er, no, not when it's my day off and I'm trying to have a lie-in.
-- Look, I just need to go home for an hour or so,
I need to speak to Steve about something, my head's all over the place.
-- "Hi, Kev, how are you, Kev? Sorry for waking you, Kev."
-- I just need your help.
-- No! No, 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's fine. Why can't Frank look after them?
Fiona, what have you gone and done?
-- I can't turn up at home with two new kids. I need to 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 suggest the idea himself.
Say, "Bring 'em to stay here!"
Ohh!
-- You do realise that I am 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 y'know, what might have been.
His little face lighting up on Christmas Day.
"Is that a bike, Mummy?
"Did Santa bring it all the way from the North Pole?"
-- I need a slash.
-- Poor kid. Just like Elvis. He had a stillborn twin brother.
The King was haunted by it, all his life.
-- Oh, don't say that.
-- Yeah, don't.
-- Maybe I should have another, y'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.
We're finally getting our party.
-- 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, Mon, eh?
Jesus, how many abortions, Mon?
Double figures. So c'mon, cheer up.
Have a drink, few pills, a party.
That's the best medicine.
Right?
-- # Baby love
# My baby love
# Baby, oh, oh... #
What?
-- Can you not even pretend to take this seriously?
-- No.
-- I'm trying, Fiona is, even Dad's doing his bit.
-- Oh, yeah.(!)
Fiona's taking it really fucking serious(!)
Off the scale.
-- What's that supposed to mean?
-- Oh, mate. Can't you 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 you going?
-- Where do you think?
-- Carl!
Don't say owt!
-- Enough!
-- Aaaaaargh!
-- Enough!
-- Stop it!
Stop that now!
How dare you disgrace your brother's memory!
-- They've nicked them! They've nicked them!
-- What are you talking about?
-- Shut up!
-- Fiona. She's taken the kids!
-- I know.
-- No. Away. For good.
-- Will you shut up? Just shut it, will you!
-- (COUGHS)
-- Frank!
-- What?
-- My babies!
Fiona! She's taken my babies!
-- Babies eat cornflakes, don't they?
Babies eat cornflakes, everyone does, don't they?
Right.
Stella?
Oh, right, you're playing hide 'n' seek, are you?
All right, you've won.
Oh, no!
No, no!
No!
Stella!
-- So much for happy bloody families.
-- Where's Fiona taken them?
-- I'm not telling you fucking anything.
You're a squealer.
-- What if it were your kid, Lip?
What if Fiona decided you weren't fit to look after Katie, eh?
-- We'll get the police on her, social, everyone.
I am not letting that uppity bitch take my children from me. Not now, not ever.
-- Ssh. Ssh now.
-- Don't shush me!
-- No, no. This is what we always wanted, Mon.
The big dream.
To be free of the kids.
Let 'em go, on the breeze.
-- You're a monster!
-- You've buried an empty fucking box today.
-- Get away from me, you repulsive...
cunt!
-- Being honest.
I know you feel the same way. This is it.
This is our chance.
-- Just get out, Frank!
I wish you had never, never come back.
Now, out!
Go on!
Out! Go on.
-- Take a good look.
Eh?
Take a fucking photo.
Because this, this is the last time
you will ever see Vernon Francis Gallagher.
Forgot me fags.
-- Lost. I've lost 'em.
-- What do you mean you've lost 'em?
-- Well, one minute they were there,
and then they weren't.
Frank...
I...
I've lost your kids.
I'm so sorry, mate.
-- See if you can make the rest of 'em 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, has our Kev.
But me, 16 years old,
walked out of school for the last time, world at my feet.
And what did I do? I had kids. Tons of them.
Boat loads of the mewling, whining twats.
-- Oi!
-- Frank Gallagher. Fucking genius.
Keep fucking and breeding, fucking and breeding.
Each kid, 16 to 18 years.
At least,
that's prison.
Socrates. Alexander the Great. Julius Caesar. Lenny Da Vinci.
All great men.
None of 'em were stupid enough to have any kids.
But we can't all do great things.
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
who's only loyalty is to the almighty pound.
Waiting for that moment,
that wonder that will put everything
into some kind of order, that will say
"Your life was not in vain."
Mind you, I'd still let Franny Lee shit in my mouth for nothing.
But he was a different class though, like Buzzer and Bell!
-- CHEERING
-- Yeahhhhhh!
We're not nearly 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, it makes no difference.
It all ends in dust.
And I'm tired of pretending 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 its 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,
they're always the ones to leave.
I've had it the wrong way round. 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?
-- Oh, 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 bear's fucking tea parties.
You're better off with her.
-- 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 CRIES
-- Right. Look everywhere for them. Yeah? Every street, every alley.
They've got to be here somewhere.
-- How do you lose two fucking kids?
-- It's my day off.
-- Somebody's gonna need to keep Monica busy.
-- < Stella, come on now, where are you?
-- Me?
-- If she finds out they're missing... Boom!
-- How am I gonna do that?
-- You're a smart lad, Kev. You'll work summat out.
-- Lillian, I need your help.
-- Stella!
-- Stella.
-- Stella, love.
-- Feel for you. You've not been around much, have you?
Patreesha's practically taken over being Ches' mum.
Expect she'll be, er, pushing you out the picture when the baby pops out.
-- Nah. We're family.
-- Where's Ches and Mary Mae now?
-- Round at Patreesha's.
-- Oh, right.
-- Stella!
-- Stella! Come on home!
-- What we gonna do?
-- I don't know. Fiona always sorted this shit out.
-- Well, she's landed us all in it this time, hasn't she?
You know, Mum's gonna go mental.
-- Stella!
-- You know what? Call the police.
Have Fiona dragged off in fucking chains.
-- Fuck that! What if we just don't find them.
I mean Stella and the baby. What if they're just... Gone.
-- (BOTH SHOUT) Stella!
Didn't have me bus fare. 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, we 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! 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.
-- Right. That's it. I'm phoning the police.
-- Look, I'm her fucking father!
-- He's not my dad.
-- It is a disgrace. Nowhere is safe from them these days.
I'm telling you, you weirdo.
-- I am 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 you.
So why don't you take your pitchforks
and go and torment some other poor bastard.
-- You've gotta be careful, you know.
-- I'm sorry but you do look like a right weirdo.
Come on.
-- (BABY CRIES)
Oh, for fuck's sake.
-- Hiya, Monica, where you off to?
-- Home.
-- I've got you this. It needs a walk.
-- It's missing a leg.
-- It's a stray. They were going to put it down.
Terminate it.
-- Awww. It's only got three legs.
-- Yeah, I know.
-- Poor little bugger. Nobody to love you. Nobody to care.
Just like me.
Come here, you.
-- You take your time. Get acquainted.
-- Why are you being so nice to me?
-- I'm just being neighbourly, 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, who made Stella
look after a 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!
-- DOOR SLAMS
-- Eh, eh, can you keep the noise down? The baby's sleeping.
-- Where were they?
-- With me. We went to the swing park.
Why? Was there 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 gonna take to get a loaf of bread?
-- Stella!
Where's the baby?
-- In there with their 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?
-- Nah, 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. 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. (LAUGHS)
-- 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?
-- There were financial issues vis-a-vis the purchase of a ticket.
-- I'll lend it you. Nah, I'll give it you.
Anything you like.
You don't want to.
You can't, can you?
Not while there's still some of us around.
-- Right. Get your coats.
Get your coats!
Come on, you lot always think the worst about me, don't you?
Come on. Come on!
Drinks. For the family.
It's OK, it's OK, I'll do it.
-- Erm, I'm not useless.
I know your game. Trying to sideline me.
Fucking wise to you.
-- Watch your mouth, you.
-- Don't talk to her like that.
-- I can fight my own battles, you mad bitch.
-- Who are you calling a mad bitch?
-- I'm calling you a mad bitch!
-- Fuck's sake!
SHOUTING
-- It's not a party without a proper fight.
-- I am so turned on right now. (PANTS)
-- You did a good job.
S'pose.
I s'pose there are a couple of things I could learn from you.
-- # JAMES: Laid
-- Mum!
-- I can't, I'm post natal.
-- C'mon.
-- You're not bloody post natal.
You just want to be the centre of attention.
-- There's lots of things you don't know about me, Fiona Gallagher.
-- Come on.
-- Ooh!
-- Fi, go and get her a drink.
-- # She said I'm so obsessed that I'm becoming a bore
# Oh, no...#
-- Come on, Fi, come and dance. Come on.
Come on, we're dancing.
-- Come and have a dance.
-- Somebody's nicked all our pills from behind the bar.
Wonder who that could be?
I tell you what, do us a favour and we'll say no more about it.
Some twat's still not shifted his car from outside.
You know what to do.
-- 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 defined their lives. But it's all upside down.
It was them that defined me.
-- # I locked you out, you cut a hole in the wall
# I find you sleeping next to me I thought...#
-- Without them I'm just that guy at the end of the bar.
That guy quite possibly soiling himself on the public transport.
The fella sitting slumped on a park bench, Sunday afternoon,
as the world dissipates around him.
-- # Raay-eeh!
# Raay-eeh!
-- Or, you know, maybe I would have been an investment banker
with a surgically enhanced wife and a penis extension for a car,
but either way, I'm not part of them. They're parts of me.
All of 'em.
-- LOUD EXPLOSION
MUFFLED SHOUTING
CROWD SHOUTS AND CHEERS
-- These annoying, ungrateful, amazing bastards I call my kids,
think for themselves, speak their mind, go their own way,
show me how it should be done.
And, most importantly, first and foremost to a man,
they'll always know what the most vital necessity in this life is...
..right?
Right?
Scatter!
-- POLICE SIRENS WAIL