Derry Girls

"My name is Erin Quinn.

I'm 16 years old, and I come from a place called 'Derry',

or Londonderry, depending on your persuasion,

a troubled little corner in the northwest of Ireland.

It's fair to say I have a somewhat

complicated relationship with my hometown.

You see, the thing about living in Derry is,

there's nowhere to hide.

Everybody knows everybody,

knows everything about everybody,

and sometimes all I really want...

is to be simply left alone."

Is that my diary?

She's gone too far this time, Mammy.

I mean, what next? Will I catch her trying on my knickers?

Don't say "knickers" in front of your father. He can't cope.

Aye, he can cope.

Sure, what's a pair of knickers between cousins?

- Less of the knickers. -

I won't put up with it anymore. Teenagers have rights now, you know.

- Don't be ridiculous. - They do, Ma. It's true.

Sure, Macaulay Culkin might be divorcing his parents.

Do you hear this? This'll be someone she met

at that stupid summer scheme you insisted we send her on.

Her bloody friends across the barricades think.

I have nothing against Protestants.

I'm all for integration, I am.

But if they're letting their wains divorce them...

Macaulay Culkin isn't a Protestant, Ma.

- It's only gonna give our wains ideas. - Well, he might be.

I didn't meet him at Friends Across the Barricades.

I don't care where you met him. You're not to see him again, understood?

- Fine. - Look at this.

They're bombing the bridge, apparently.

No.

Suspicions were raised when a hijacked van...

Oh, dear God, no.

Does this mean they can't get to school?

I've had a whole summer of it, Gerry.

She's melting my head.

Their bus can go the long way around.

- - I'll get it.

Major traffic disruptions are anticipated...

The wains shouldn't have to take the bus to school.

You should be driving them, you useless shite.

- I have to work, Joe. - Work?

- Is that what you call it? - Yes.

Why don't you just leave my Mary alone?

Because we've been married for 17 years, Joe.

We have two children.

And because we're in love with each other.

Oh, bunk.

I'll find some dirt on you yet, boy.

I've got people working on it.

- God, Mammy. You're up early. - So are you.

You should be having a lie in, love. You're on your holidays.

- First day of term, Sarah? - Is it, aye?

It is, aye.

Well, I don't know about the rest of you,

but I'm not enjoying this bomb.

- Shocking. - Desperate.

Disgusting and disgraceful.

I have an appointment in Tropicana at 12:00.

Fifteen minutes in this stand up.

But sure I'll not get over the bridge at this rate.

It's going to play havoc with my build-up.

This is what they want.

They want ordinary people to suffer.

This is what it's all about.

I'm pretty sure interfering with your sunbed sessions

isn't very high up on anyone's political agenda, Aunt Sarah.

I wouldn't be so sure.

We'd better head.

Hey, what do you think you're playing at? Where's your blazer?

I've decided to put my own spin on the uniform this year.

I'll spin you across that floor. Get your blazer on.

Look, Mammy, I'm not a clone.

I should be allowed to express my individuality.

I'm sorry, I'm not wearing my blazer. End of story.

Gerry, pass me the wooden spoon.

What's all this? I thought we were going to be individuals this year.

Look, I wanted to, Clare, but my ma wouldn't let me.

Well, I'm not being individual on my own.

- You're not getting anything? - I'm trying to do this fast for Ethiopia.

Christ's sake. What is it with you and Africa?

Will you sponsor me?

- How much? - Two pound.

Two pound? Catch yourself on.

What's happening over there is really lousy, Erin.

Father Conway showed us a video. There's this one wee fella, Kamal.

He's only ten, and every morning he walks 25 miles to the nearest well.

Does he just really enjoy wells, aye?

- Twenty-five miles? How far is that? - Far.

Like, how far are we talking? From here to Buncrana?

Further. It's more like from here to Ballybofey.

Shut up. From here to Ballybofey? Sure, you'd be knackered.

- Kamal is knackered. - Are you sure Kamal isn't exaggerating?

Stop slagging off Kamal. Kamal doesn't have it easy.

- Now, will you sponsor me or not? - Fine.

Ah! You touch them, you buy them.

That's the law.

I don't think that is the law.

If I say it's the law, it's the law, smart hole!

Right. It's just, I can't afford them anymore.

Have to give all my money to Kamal.

Who the fuck's Kamal?

He's a wee Ethiopian fella from Ballybofey, Dennis.

Do you want to sponsor me, Dennis?

Get out!

Good one, Geldoff.

Oh, my God. David.

David Donnelly.

Okay, just act normal.

No way. Are you serious?

What are you doing? Who are you talking to?

- Erin, have you got a light? - Me? No, I don't smoke.

Why the hell do I not smoke?

I have one.

I don't smoke either.

I just like melting stuff.

Cool poster.

- Oh, do you think so? - Yeah.

Really nice use of, you know, letters.

Thanks. You should come along tonight.

You're inviting me to your gig?

Yeah, well, all of you.

But you'd specifically like me to go. I mean, just so we're clear.

But Erin, Murder She Wrote's on tonight.

You never miss Murder She Wrote.

Shut up.

- We're going to be late. - Yeah, kicks off at 6:00.

Sweet. Cool.

Maybe I'll see you there, then.

You're not seriously going to his concert?

Gig, Clare, it's called a "gig", and I have to go. He invited me specifically.

Motherfuckers!

"Motherfucker," it's my new thing.

Watched this film last night. My da got it off Pyro Pauline,

and it's about these two lads, they wear these cracking suits,

and rock about shooting people and eating cheeseburgers.

They're all, "motherfucker" this, "motherfucker" that.

It's got your man in it. What do you call him?

- The disco dancer from Look Who's Talking. - Who owns the fella?

Me.

Well, come on, then, ball-ache. Are you introducing yourself, or what?

Hi. I'm Michelle's cousin, James.

Why's he making that funny noise?

He's English, Orla. That's the way they talk.

He's my Auntie Kathy's wain. I told you about my Auntie Kathy.

She went to England years ago to have an abortion, never came back.

Never got the abortion, either. Lucky for you, James, eh? Ha!

I didn't actually know that.

- What did he say? - Nothing interesting.

What's he doing here?

Kathy's just got divorced, so she's moved back.

The husband caught her doing the dirt on him.

She's a bit of a goer, is our Kathy, riding rings around him, so she was.

- Isn't that right, James? - No, I mean here, at our bus stop.

Oh, he's going to our school.

But he's a fella.

An effeminate fella, but a fella all the same.

Everyone was shitting it about sending him to the boys' school.

They were worried lads would beat him up because...

- He's English. - And you couldn't really blame them.

Our carriage awaits, motherfuckers.

Avon.

Avon.

Avon.

We have a wee offer on there for hair removal cream, if you want to, with the...

- No? - There's no seats down here.

- Just move them wee dicks. - What?

Why should we sit up the front? We're fifth years. They're fetuses.

Come on.

All right, shift your shirt holes, let's go.

Nobody move.

- You better do as I say, or... - Or what?

- Or there'll be consequences. - Such as?

Well, we'll beat you up.

- Wonderful. - Really, Michelle?

- Go on, then. - What?

Beat me up.

Well, not now.

After school. We'll beat you up after school.

Grand. I'll meet you after school and you can beat me up.

What's happening, exactly?

I'll bring my sister Mandy. You might know her.

Mandy O'Connell.

She's an upper sixth.

Big Mandy? Big Mandy is your sister?

- That's right. - Retreat.

Listen, I think there's been a wee bit of a misunderstanding.

Thought you might say that.

Now fuck off.

Right. Will do.

Wasn't that all humiliating?

How long does this fast last?

Twenty-four hours.

So I still have...

almost 23 hours to go.

Fuck me, not the Africans again.