Boys from County Hell

This is awful trash.

Yeah.

Perhaps we could go out for a wee while?

Where would you be running to at this time of night?

We could have a wee drink in The Stoker.

Ugh! That place is full of degenerates.

Elliott. I think I have a...

It must be...

I don't know.

Devil!

Same again, please, Claire.

- No. - What?

Thomas told me to cut you off until you pay the account.

I'm one of his best customers.

You have the biggest tab,

but a customer actually pays.

I'll get it.

No. You can't buy another drink.

Shit's no different than any other night, is it?

Claire, how do you put up with this smug bastard?

Do you know, I ask myself the same thing

every fucking day.

Sure, why don't you go back to work for your da

- if you've no money? - Geez.

I'll just scrounge off of you, mate.

What do you reckon, Germans?

Germans would have more sense than to come here

and look at a pile of stones.

They're Canadians.

Canadians love wearing maple leaves.

What will you have?

Just a couple of pints of whatever is local, please.

You heading out to the cairn?

Why? Are you going to tell us to stay off the moors?

This is Ireland lad. There aren't any moors.

I wouldn't go traipsing out there alone.

Don't know which fields there's no wicked bull in it.

Are there any tour guides?

Oh, aye, sure. We can take you.

It's in his da's field.

How much?

And most people don't even know Bram Stoker was Irish.

Or that he got his inspiration here.

See, this land belonged to an evil old whore

named Abhartach, right?

He'd drain people's blood and drank it like water.

Locals tried to kill him, but he just kept rising

looking for the more.

- Like Dracula? - Fuck Dracula.

Folks round here don't like that word.

- Fuck? - Dracula.

You literally have a painting of him outside the bar.

We might as well get something out of the fact

Stoker came here. Pillaged our legend and used it.

To write the greatest horror novel of all time?

Well, it's worth a read, is it?

What, you haven't actually read it?

But that Abhartach, he was,

- which is Gaelic for... - Undead.

You've done your homework anyway.

Yeah, she loves this shit.

And what you probably don't know is that a Chieftan called Cahan

stabbed the fucker through the heart and buried him out here.

Someone from our time killed the original vampire,

and we don't even get the credit.

And since then, no one's had the balls to move his grave.

Some people say that if you get too close,

you spontaneously start to bleed.

Like he's sucking it out of you just by being close.

Aye. Suck them without sucking.

It doesn't prove shit.

Stoker came to Six Mile Hill, heard this story.

A few years later, releases "Dracula."

Did he ever say he was actually inspired by this story?

The story of Abhartach is the first story

ever written down about a blood-drinking creature.

And he's buried under there.

It's a pile of rocks in a field.

I've lived in that house all my life.

My da owns this land, and I am telling you

there is something underneath those stones.

And if you get close enough, you'll hear it.

Like we all did when we were kids.

Aye.

Try it.

Fine.

Be careful, mate.

Go on.

Go on.

Some things are older than science,

older than God.

The Earth has it's own secrets.

Aah!

Jesus! Christian!

That was some roaring you were doing there, chief.

It's only an old hand, huh?

- You fucking pricks! - Come on.

No point tramping all the way out here

and not getting a bit of a scare.

Haven't you guys got anything better to do?

Nope. No, we don't.

The man will never be in her bed again.

Bet she dumps him before they even get back on the plane.

That was a wild ream of shite you gave them.

"Some things are old than God."

I'd love to know if there's actually anything under there.

We'll find out soon enough if this bypass goes ahead

and rips through these fields.

Cut off at The Stoker again, huh?

Oof!

- He'll never learn. - Probably not.

Go away!

Hey!

Told you about staying in that bar all night.

I wasn't in the bar.

That's the only mixer I can spare.

Cheers.

I've a bunch of broken slat and pit walls in the shed.

Ground water getting in.

I might get a few.

And I might start rearing kangaroos.

Why don't you sell this old place on?

Ma wouldn't have wanted it so.

Aye, and she wouldn't want to see you buried

when the whole fucking thing tumbles in around you.

The bones are solid, da.

Why don't you come in for a cup of tea, and I'll show you?

Nah. I've too much on.

Are you busy otherwise?

Taking away.

I have a job if you want it.

We're doing the groundwork on the new bypass.

- You're joking? - I'm not.

People in town are going to go mental.

About an old pile of stones?

Any one of them can come and see me.

Da, you're putting William and his parents off their land.

I was thinking that... you could run the job.

Time your name is on the side of that van.

I'm all right.

Grand. Then you pay me full rent for this mixer.

Give me a lift. Get up in the fucking back.

You a farmer now?

Oh, we've been ringing you all morning.

Was there a match today?

You're away, man.

You said you'd give me a wee lift home,

or did you forget that, as well?

- What's that in your hand? - Don't worry about

what's in my hand.

We thought you were dead.

Yeah. So, who stood in for me?

You probably needed two men in fairness.

- S.P. - What?

He can hardly run the length of himself.

Sure, neither can you.

S.P. is actually not a bad player.

Well, did he score?

No. Nobody scored except your man here.

15 points.

Oh, 15 points. That's impressive.

How's it feel to go out with the king of the town?

Yeah, makes me feel like a queen, so it does.

Oh, fuck away off, the pair of you.

It does! It does!

Your da need any help around the farm?

- I don't think so. Why? - I heard his bull keeps

breaking out.

I could throw up a few fences for him if he wants.

Oh, who died?

Oh, for fuck sake.

Have I made that joke before?

Maybe once or twice Eugene, eh?

Well, there is something that I heard.

It's about your da being an undertaker.

God forgive you.

Oh. What was the score?

Oh, we fucking hammered them, George.

- Yeah, I was there. - He's a bullshitter, George.

- Sure, we all know that. - You're working on a Saturday?

Have to. My solicitors aren't cheap.

And the bypass has us ruined.

- And when do you have to be out? - Two months.

Well, you know, room at my place

if you need somewhere temporary.

Oh, that house is livable is it, eh?

Don't I fucking live in it?

Here, George. You know the body and shit like that.

Found more weird shit in the ground in me shed.

How old do you reckon that is?

Frigging Hamlet in a transit?

What's a Hamlet?

Oh, I... I'm away in to help your ma with packing.

The poor woman is probably demented.

I don't know.

People are usually in better shape when they get to me.

- Worth anything? - I doubt it.

I'm sure there are plenty of dead things

in the ground around here if you want them.

See you.