ആദ്യത്തെ 200 വരികൾ.
Oh, my God. The fairy chair is still here.
Aye, they call this circle The Lucky Hoop.
- Yeah? - I don't know why.
- You're a scut. Yeah. - Me?
Not at all.
You are, though.
You're a right scut.
"Five, four, three, two, one!"
"Happy New Year!"
I suppose you went and organized all this for me, did you?
New Millenium?
Fucking over it already. There's too many trees.
You hot dope.
Easy, tiger!
God loves a trier.
Seamie!
Seamie, what the fuck is happening?
"Shit! Stupid water!"
So, a lot of feedback on the script. Some of it good.
"Well, I am excited."
"Kudos to Wendy for optioning that book. Boy."
- "What a page-turner, huh?" - It sure is a quick read.
"And where are we with locations?"
We're close. Yeah, we're ... We're rounding third.
Europe's got a lot of options as you'd expect with a historical piece.
"And we've yet to sign off on that lakeside location in Ireland, is that right?"
We've narrowed it down to two locations in the North West.
Seems to be a straight choice between Drumban in the north and Boyle
which apparently is more pleasant than it sounds.
I fly over to sign off on the final location later today.
"Did I hear that your hometown is still in the mix, Wendy?"
If they'll let me back in, sir.
Worth reminding everyone that current tax incentives make Boyle
south of the border, the much more attractive financial option.
"Pina colada? Table 4?"
How's everything at home, sir?
"Oh, staying safe, Wendy. Staying safe."
"You know, I'm hoping to get back into the office very soon."
Yeah, I don't know what I would do if my dog was immuno-compromised.
Kudos for keeping your family safe.
Circling back to locations I have some thoughts.
- Honestly, sir, I have no skin in the game. - I think ...
I haven't been there since I was a teenager
which is nearly a decade now.
"Well, be safe out there, Wendy."
You too, sir.
Don't let any books drop on you.
"What, what ... What was that?"
No, I was just ...
Okay, I'll check in from the road.
"Alright. Signing off."
"The fuck?"
Fucker's in Fiji.
- Good luck. - Thanks, Wendy.
One sec, Wendy.
- Look, I know you're on your way... - Yet, here you are.
but I realize that this is a big step up from your previous projects
and I think it goes without saying that location is a very big, big decision.
So, it's important that we make it with our heads, right, not our hearts?
- Does that make sense to you? - It makes so much sense, Brad.
- Great! - So, I'll assess both locations
on their merits, and then choose the location that best suits our needs.
Well, if you're sure?
Do I sound unsure?
- I'll check in from the road. - Okay.
These fucking stairs...
"Doors closing."
Do I sound unsure?
Do I sound unsure?
"It's television, so don't expect them to tell you what really happened."
No offence, but why are they even making a TV show about history anyway?
- Been there, done that. - I don't think it's about history.
From what I've been told, it's about myths and folklore, which is ...
Oh, same-same.
Not same-same, Brendan history is the story of what happened to us
as best we know it.
Whereas myths is the story we tell ourselves
when the history is too boring or indeed too brutal to repeat.
We can learn from history but you can't learn from fairytales.
I don't care if they cast me as Queen Maeve
I'm not taking my top off for it.
I'll let them know.
"I can't imagine any of this will matter, anyway."
"I'm sure they'll choose some other stupid town to film their show in"
"which means we can keep ourselves a little secret from the world."
Fuck!
Fecking, birds.
They are coming for you, doctor?
Do I owe them money, Betty?
If they come back will you tell them I'm in Lanzarote?
They've waited forever to see you.
Well, maybe if my house calls didn't take so long?
Will you follow the light please, Mrs. Battles?
Miss Battles, please, doctor.
Mr. Battles has been making the ground colder for thirty years now.
You're married, aren't you ...
Seamus. Yeah, that's my name.
The wife has a name of her own, no doubt.
And one of these days, by God I swear, I'll learn it.
Your blood pressure's a little high.
Will you promise to take it easy on the rowing machine?
Well, I've clearly been overindulging myself with excessive masturbation, Séamus.
It's an issue I've struggled with my whole life.
I might head off, so...
Cool enough, Seamie. I'll walk you out.
Mere grains of sand are we, floating uselessly through space and time.
Grains of sand fighting over who's the wettest.
Right you are, Mammy.
No, thanks for making the house call. I know we're out of the way.
- Did you pay the doctor, Barry? - I did, Mammy.
I mean, that's not really the way it works.
But don't worry the doctor will be well taken care of.
That makes one of us, so...
She's some woman.
- Aye. - I'll...
I'll see you on the pitch later so, Seamie.
You will.
Thanks again for... that.
God, you're a big family for the masturbation, Barry.
We're so close!
- I'm not that close. - What?
No, like, spatially. Like, both of our faces are so close!
- Do you want to go first, or... - No, you work away.
I've only Year 2 Boston Tea Party shit.
Do you need a hand, or...
I'm sure I'll manage.
- "Carol Chapman." - "Yeah."
"Tony Lombardi did I tell you about Tony?"
Yeah, I know, Mum. I'm totally caught up with who died this year.
"Oh, from my texts?"
- Oh, my ride's here. - "Okay, Wendy."
"I'll call the same time next week."
"Apparently, Geena Lopez is on her last legs."
No, Mum, I'm going to be in Ireland for the next month
remember, for the show?
- "Oh." - The time difference is a bit funky
so I might be a little quiet.
"Are you sure you're ready to go back?"
- "B is for border." - "We're right by it."
Yeah, I am.
It's work.
They'll make fun of my silly new ways I'll make fun of theirs.
It'll be a hoot.
"Will it, I'd rather be with Tony Lombardi."
The neighbors are going to watch Wanda so obviously she's been giving me
the silent treatment all day.
"You think you'll see your father and what's-her-tits?"
Yeah, I might try to swing by.
"Well, that sounds stressful as fuck."
"Don't drink too much."
I don't drink too much, Mum.
"And don't smoke too much."
Got to go. I love you.
"I could come with you?"
- "Wendy?" - Bye bye.
Bitch!
Watch it!
Sophie!
Been meaning to ask how your young ones are coming along, Seamie?
Well, you know those plans we had for the clubhouse trophy room?
Trophy room?
I'd ditch the idea of building an extension is all I'm saying.
Oh, not the most talented footballers?
- I have a theory. - I don't think we even have a trophy shelf.
These lads and lasses were all born in the year 2007
when we had an awful issue with the local water supply.
The contamination at the reservoir?
This is where my theory comes in with regards to the kids out there
and their allergic reaction to kicking a ball straight.
You think dead sheep water is to blame, doctor?
Well, it's certainly not the coaching, Barry.
God forbid.
Fuck!
Why are they switching the lights on?
Trust me, there's nothing worth illuminating on that pitch.
Alright same time next week.
We'll try again, and fail better.
Did you hear the news about the TV production?
Huh?
The last I heard, we were among a bunch of small towns, parading ourselves around
like some kind of rural beauty queens
looking for one last spin on the dancefloor.
Well, we're down to the last two beauty queens.
Well, we must invest in a giant sash.
Well, speaking of sashes
McCurdle has called a strategy meeting tonight.
Well, then the opera shall have to wait.
To the White Ridge it is!
Come on, Barry! You're it!
- It's your move. - I know.
"We have Joyce replenishing the flowerbeds twice-weekly now."
"And when they had their last location scout"
we had the walking club write welcome in sticks down by the river.
- Ooh, aye, I saw that. - Nice, sticks.
- That's a nice touch Barbara - It feels like...
it's just a waiting game now, Seamie.
It's all about the tax breaks.
If they go for a town south of the border, it'll be Boyle.
- Gem of a town, that. - Aye.
And if they go for a town north of the border, it'll be us.
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