1:30:01
What's the fucking deal?
I don't know what you want.
1:30:08
Oh, Jesus, Hackett!
1:30:09
I can tell you anything?
I'll tell you anything !
1:30:12
Jesus !
1:30:18
- Fucking weasel.
- Please, Hackett!
1:30:26
Fucking dickless.
1:30:29
Should have shot him
in the leg.
1:30:33
Want to shoot him
in the leg?
1:30:38
No.
1:30:40
We'll not bother shooting you
in the leg, shitface.
1:30:50
What's this mean?
1:30:54
- It's a mass for a dead city.
- Dublin's not dead.
1:30:57
No, it's not,
but it's a little sick.
1:30:59
I feel a little sick, too,
Mommy.
1:31:03
I have a tummy pain.
1:31:07
We'll cure that for you
1:31:09
with a little medicine
and a spoonful of sugar.
1:31:12
If I'm better on Friday,
can we play football?
1:31:16
On Friday,
Mommy has to go to court.
1:31:18
To see the bad man?
1:31:21
No, Mommy drove too fast.
She has to pay a ticket.
1:31:25
Actually, she has to pay
about 6,000,000 tickets.
1:31:28
But if you're better by
Thursday,
1:31:30
it's Colum on the ball.
H e shoots. H e scores.
1:31:33
I love you, Mommy.
1:31:35
- I love you, too.
- You're funny.
1:31:38
- Why's that?
- You have a pencil in your ear.
1:31:40
I do?
Oh, I forgot.
1:31:42
Want it?
Take it.
1:31:47
Ladies and gentlemen,
1:31:48
a generous round of applause
for Ms. Sinead Hamilton,
1:31:52
crime reporter
of The Sunday Globe.