Joe: So, what's the plan then, Sean? You gonna stack them?
Sean: Oh, aye, otherwise I'm looking at two runs, and sure, who has time for that?
Gerry: I could take some of them.
Erin: We have to arrive together, Daddy.
Aunt Sarah: It's an ensemble costume, Gerry.
Sean: Aye, sure, you can't separate the flock.
Erin: We're not swans.
Mary: Need a hand stacking them, Sean?
Sean: Ach, no, I'll be grand. Sure, I'm only after doing it with a load of plasterboard there.
Clare: You're not stacking us, Daddy! We're not plasterboard! We're VIPs, for God's sake!
Sean: True enough. VIPs should travel in style.

Aunt Sarah: Ciaran's on his way round. I think it's as good a time as any to call off this engagement.
Gerry: You're not going to tell him here, are you?
Aunt Sarah: No, but he's being told here.
Gerry: And how is that different?
Mary: I said you'd do it for her, love.
Gerry: You said what?
Mary: You don't mind, do you?
Gerry: Of course I mind.
Aunt Sarah: I just think it would be better coming from you, Gerry.
Gerry: Well, I don't. I think people who get themselves accidentally engaged should break off their own accidental engagements.

Aunt Sarah: Daddy, Gerry won't tell Ciaran I don't want to marry him.
Joe: Well, I'll tell him.
Aunt Sarah: Really?
Gerry: I don't think your father should tell him, girls.
Aunt Sarah: Why not?
Joe: Then I'll put the pushy wee bastard through that wall.
Gerry: There you are.

Gerry: So, Ciaran hasn't done anything wrong and now your father is going to k*ll the poor fella?
Mary: And to think you could have prevented it, Gerry.
Aunt Sarah: Unbelievable.

Fintan: Oh, hello, there. Don't you look fab? No ugly ducklings here, eh?
Erin: We're not swans. Too many feathers. I said go easy on the feathers.
Fintan: Can I see your wee passes there? Lovely stuff. And you're the wee lad who got the shite kicked out of him, is that right?
James: Yeah.
Fintan: Fantastic. Welcome to the VIP suite.

Erin: This is the best night of my life!
Fintan: So, I'll be looking after you this evening. My name is Fintan, but you can call me Fifi.
Michelle: Aye, that won't be happening.
Fintan: Amazing.

Fintan: So, just to let you know, we told Norman your story.
Michelle: [gasps] Norman? Norman, Norman? Fatboy Norman?
Fintan: Ah, sorry, no, our security guard Norman.
Michelle: Right.
Fintan: Of course Fatboy Norman! I couldn't help myself! Jesus, sure, I'm terrible! Aren't I terrible?
Erin: What did he say?
Fintan: That he'd like to meet you.
Michelle: Do not fuck with us, Fifi.
Fintan: I'm serious. He's got a few minutes before he goes on stage. Let me just go and grab him.

Joe: Good costumes, girls. They look like the real thing.
Aunt Sarah: They are.
Mary: Well, I still don't think they're worth what we paid, Sarah. Them Sisters of Mercy saw us coming.

Announcer: Three minutes until Fatboy Slim is on this very stage, people.
Michelle: Three minutes!
James: Come on, Clare!
Clare: I think I love her, guys!
Michelle: Oh, wise up!
Erin: We'll never find her on time.
Orla: I say we just start whipping people's masks off.

Fintan: What in under Whitney? There's nothing wrong with him! He's a nutter! Lying wee shites! No, not the clown, the swans! Grab the swans!
Erin: We're not swans!