Pádraic Súilleabháin
[bursting into Colm's house]
How are ya, fatty? Dancing with your dog, is it? Well who else is gonna dance with ya? Your poor dog has no say in the matter. And if you're too rude to be offering me a seat, I'll be taking one of me own accord! [sits] How's that for an old hello?
Colm Doherty
Have you gone fecking mental?
Pádraic Súilleabháin
Have I gone fecking mental? No I haven't gone fecking mental. Not only have I not gone fecking mental, but I have got ten fingers to prove I'm not fecking mental. How many fingers have you got to prove you're not fecking mental?
Colm Doherty
Nine fingers.
Pádraic Súilleabháin
Nine fingers is the epitome of mental.
