Colm: There was a knock at the door. This must have been, ah, we're talking eight, half eight, for I was halfway through my dinner. And up I got to open it, and there they both were, large as life. And the taller fella, though, to be fair, there was no more than an inch in it...
Mary: Jesus wept.
Colm: The slightly taller fella, he says to me, says he, "Do you know who we are?"
Joe: How is a body supposed to enjoy his dinner?
Colm: And I says to him, says I, "Well, I can't be sure now. But maybe if you took off the balaclavas..." And then he says to me, the slightly taller fella does, he says, "Step aside, we are armed."
Orla: Class.
Colm: And that is when the smaller fella, although, as I say, we are talking an inch...
Erin: Mammy, make it stop.
Colm: ...an inch and a half at most.
Sarah: I need a drink.
Colm: He has the bright idea of tying me to the radiator, you see. And I remember saying to myself, says I, "Colm, it's a good job you have the Economy 7 on the aul timer, or you'd be roasted here."

James: I don't really want anything.
Erin: You don't want anything?
Michelle: How could you not want anything? It's lovely.
James: I just don't really fancy it, that's all.
Orla: I don't understand.
Clare: Are you not feeling well, James?
James: I don't like it! OK? It's too greasy, it's much, much too greasy! Even the smell of it makes me feel physically sick!
Michelle: I'm sorry you had to hear that, Fionnula. [to James] You are a fucking embarrassment.
Fionnula: Get him out of here!
Michelle: You heard the woman.

Sarah: Did you go for the Economy 7 in the end, Colm? I thought you said the hot water settings were a minefield?
Gerry: For the love of God, Sarah, no diversions.
Mary: Aye, come on, let's pick it up. They tied you to the heater.
Colm: They did indeed. And there I am, shackled to the thermostatic valve with my new shoelaces, when one of them, the smaller fella, or, hang on, maybe it was the...
Gerry: It doesn't matter, Colm.
Colm: Well, it was one of the two. He is looking for the keys to the van. All ranting and raving and getting himself all worked up, threatening to set fire to my good chaise-longue and all sorts. By Jesus, they were absolutely desperate to borrow thon van.
Mary: Colm, they didn't borrow your van. They stole your van. Used it to move arms across the border. And then they blew it up.
Colm: Aye. Nightmare altogether.