Erin: Wise up, Mammy! As if a polar bear's going to rock up at a Take That concert!
Orla: He wouldn't get a ticket, for a start. They sold out months ago.
Mary: You'd be surprised, girls.
Joe: Aye, thon boys would get in where draughts wouldn't.
Gerry: Sure, the concert's nowhere near the zoo.
Joe: But he's not in the zoo anymore, is he, simple Simon? He's sauntering about Belfast without a care in the world.
Sarah: Aye, keep up, Gerry.

Ian Paisley: [on TV] This document is an insult to the majority of people of Northern Ireland!
Gerry: All right, Ian, we get the idea, like.
Joe: What are you footering at?
Gerry: Ah, the picture's just gone a bit, sort of... [Joe smacks the TV] Dear Jesus!
Joe: You have to give it a bit of a shock now and again. [hits it again] You have to keep it on its toes.
Gerry: I'm not sure you do have to keep it on its toes, Joe. It's a television. [Joe hits it repeatedly] OK, OK, OK! I'm just going to turn it off and turn it on again. That usually does the trick. [turns the TV off] There we go. Hm? There doesn't seem to be anything happening now.
Joe: This stupid prick's broken the TV, Mary!
Mary: For God's sake, Gerry.
Joe: He's been footering.
Gerry: Excuse me. You're the one that was thumping it repeatedly, Joe.
Joe: I'll thump you repeatedly.

Sarah: What time's your date arriving at, Orla, love?
Joe: He's already here.
Erin: You asked Granda to the prom?
Orla: Well, everyone kept saying you have to ask a fella you really like. And he's the fella I like the most. [Joe bows]
Sarah: Och, Orla, love.
Gerry: You're looking well, Joe.
Joe: It's not all shite you talk, Gerry. Should we head?

Mary: I cannot believe this.
Gerry: I think it's a good thing, love.
Joe: Oh, just keep out of it, you!
Mary: And that's who you were winking at in mass?
Sarah: Winking? At your age? Christ, I feel sick.
Joe: It was only a friendly wink.
Mary: There is no such thing as a friendly wink!
Gerry: Is there not?
Mary: Our poor mother is barely cold... and you're straight back out there, winking away.
Gerry: Your mother's been dead ten years, Mary.
Joe: Look, I'll not tell you again!
Mary: I'm sorry. I seem to have lost my appetite. [exits]
Joe: [to Gerry] Are you happy now?!

Gerry: I thought we should have a chat, because...
Ciaran: Sorry, Gerry. I find it hard to concentrate with...
Gerry: Yeah, of course. Could you take that thing off, please, Joe? Joe. [Joe removes his Halloween mask] So, I thought we should have a bit of a chat.
Ciaran: Yeah, definitely. We should get to know each other a bit. All the lads. I mean, we'll be family soon enough, won't we?
Joe: Nope.
Gerry: The thing is, Ciaran, we all know Sarah can be a bit... I don't want to say light in the pan. But...
Joe: Too right you don't.
Gerry: ...but she's different, isn't she, Ciaran? She's different from other people. From, you know, normal people.
Ciaran: She's the love of my life.
Joe: Well, you're not the love of hers.
Gerry: OK, thank you, Joe.

Joe: Now, more bacon, anyone? Another sausage? Wee omelette, maybe? Anything at all? It's absolutely no bother.
Gerry: I'll have a cup of tea, so, Joe.
Joe: Make your own tea!
Gerry: Yeah, I'll do that.

Mary: You really think this'll work? That they'll tell us what to do?
Sarah: Sure, it's worth a try. [turns card] Would you look at that.
Mary: Well, what do they say?
Sarah: I think... Now, I can't be certain, but I think they're saying you should leave Gerry.
Joe: I could have told you that years ago and I'm not psychic!

Gerry: It was him! The mural on our house, the spray paint... It was Emmett. I can prove it.
Mary: Sly wee bastard.
Joe: You bloody tout!
Sarah: Where is Emmett?
Orla: There he is.
[As they all look outside, Emmett is holding Jim's tent and a backpack in his hands as he watches a man pull a coat out of his car boot.]
Mary: Is that Jim's tent? [James looks back and sighs]
Sarah: What's he doing?
[Emmett takes a running jump into the man's car boot as he starts to drive away]
Joe: I told you to look after that tent.
Gerry: No, you didn't, you told him to look after it!
Joe: Ah, blame the wain, big man! Jesus... Jim's second best tent. How am I going to break it to him?

Gerry: Well, isn't this romantic?
Joe: Thon fella's nothing but a fly bastard! Don't you be trusting him!
Gerry: I just want to check, does your father think that they can hear him?
Mary: Ssh.
Manager: [door clatters] We've just had a wee security alert there. I'm afraid we're gonna have to carry out a wee evacuation. So, if you'll all follow me. Lovely. Great stuff.
Joe: [to Gerry] That's the last time I let you organise a night out.
Gerry: OK, then.

Joe: He's gaining ground.
Mary: What?
Joe: The polar bear. Margo Murphy's niece just saw him outside the Abrakebabra in Coleraine, apparently.
Sarah: That close?
Mary: I'll get the holy water.
Joe: Sarah, buzz Michelle's mother there, tell her we need our wains back.
Sarah: I will surely, Daddy.
Joe: Then we'll barricade the front door, and if worst comes to worst, Jim across the road lent me his tranquiliser gun.