[Sister Michael stops her Delorean and opens the bat-wing door to talk to a man stood in front of a house]
Sister Michael: How are you, Jackie?
Jackie: [answers in Irish]
Sister Michael: Thank you. Though she's at peace now, at least.
Jackie: [responds in Irish]
Sister Michael: She was a bit of an arsehole all right, that's true enough. [Sheila walks out] Ah, it's herself. How are you keeping, Sheila?
Sheila: Chonaic me an diabhal amhain!
Sister Michael: Oh, for the love of God, Sheila. You did not see the devil that night. Well, you may have, but only because you were absolutely flying on the co-codamol. Never worry
Sheila: [responds in Irish]
Sister Michael: I'll see the both of you up at the wake for a jar or two so. Slan.