Moone Boy

They say a happy hen makes a happy egg.

And the Moone coop was full of perky poultry.

But all it takes to stink up a hen house is one bad egg.

Or a cock with diarrhoea. Thanks for tuning in.

Pat. Jesus. Are you all right?

I'm sorry to call so early, Debra, but I'm looking for Padraic.

I think he's run away.

Oh, God! Don't worry, love, kids wander off all the time,

but they always find their way home.

They're like cats.

Padraic loved cats.

Ah, Pat. Come in, come on. love.

It'll be OK.

Martin, Padraic's run away. Go out and find him, will ya?

He's run away?

Without us? The big Judas. What does he know about running away?

We invented running away.

Yeah. That's our thing. We ran home from holidays.

But why would anyone run away from Boyle?

That just makes no sense.

This seems very unlike Padraic. Running away is just so reckless.

And athletic.

Things have been a bit tense at home lately.

Between myself and Paddy. Oh. It's such a quiet house these days.

I think Padraic finds all the long silences quite upsetting. Oh.

Plus all the shouting and screaming.

That seems to really bother him, too.

I know on the outside Padraic seems to have such a hard, almost

brutally tough shell, but underneath it all he's quite a sensitive soul.

Don't worry, love.

I'm sure Martin will track him down in no time.

He loves a good man-hunt.

What we've got here is a fugitive.

Average running and skipping speed for Padraic is 1mph -

that's not including time spent napping and chasing squirrels.

That gives us a search radius of...

Depends on squirrel speed, really.

Oh, that's a good point.

I hadn't even... We should just give up, actually.

No, Sean, we'll just have to search every farmhouse,

treehouse, Wendy house and house-house

until we find Padraic, and bring him home, dead or alive!

Well, let's aim for alive, and see how we get on, yeah?

Grand, I'll just grab my shotgun.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Isn't that him there in your wardrobe?

Padraic?

Oh, hi, Martin!

Is breakfast ready? I'm so hungry, I could eat a squirrel.

Dad? Can I ask...

Just let me finish my tea, love.

Poor Padraic. I can't believe Paddy and Pat are having such problems.

Well, not all marriages are built to last.

Some of us stick together through thick and thin

like a pair of lovely swans.

While others just flounder around in a constant state of marital despair.

Like ducks.

Don't ducks mate for life, too?

Are you joking? Ducks are the Liz Taylors of the lake.

Dad, can I just ask you this one thing?

Does that look done yet, love?

The thing is, though, Liam,

when I was consoling Pat, I had a bit of a revelation.

When she was going on and on and on and on about all her problems

and whatever, I realised - I'm a really good listener.

Ah, yeah. Me too.

Maybe I could listen professionally.

Interesting. Like take on the monopoly of the fecking Samaritans?

No, I mean, like a therapist. Or a marriage counsellor.

Well, there's certainly a lot that people could

learn from swans like us, Deb.

Exactly.

Now, I know you're upset we missed out on a good manhunt this morning.

I shouldn't have got my hopes up.

But, in a way, we get the same buzz by making sure Padraic is all right.

Yes! We should track down his problems and skin them alive.

A friend in need is a friend indeed.

What? That's mad talk.

Surely the best kind of friend is one who gives ya sweets

and crisps and stuff?

A friend who feeds is a friend indeed? Ha!

Now you're talking sense, Sean.

And I knew she was having an affair, Dr Bill,

cause she started acting so fecking happy.

Mm-hm.

Going around whistling and stuff. Humming and whistling.

It cut through me like a musical knife.

I like to whistle. Is it a crime now?

A woman has needs, doctor. Mm-hm. Mm-hm.

You could totally do that, Deb. I mean, Jesus, I could that.

So the Weight Watchers all done, yeah?

You're a marriage counsellor now?

Well, I've applied for a correspondence course,

so my tune may well change, Linda,

but I don't think of it as the end of the weight loss symphony.

More as another string to my self-help bow.

Someone's getting fiddled, anyway. God.

It's a shame you don't have a broken marriage, Linda.

You could have been my first customer!

Yep, definitely a downside to being a widow, all right.

We'll be back with more from Bernard and Collette on You Talking to Me?

with Dr Bill, right after this.

Knob. Oh, Jesus.

Hey, P-dawg, old pal. Want some sambo?

Ah, no, I'm grand. Got a whole Viennetta here.

Mam's great for apology lunches.

I hope you didn't mind me sleeping in your wardrobe last night.

There was so much shouting at home, not even my crying could drown it out.

What were they shouting about? Ah, just the usual stuff.

"You ruined me life, I wish I was dead."

Sure, you know yourself. God, that's awful, P.

Ah, no, it's grand. They were just having a big old fight.

It's all just a bit of craic.

Anyway, I'd better be heading in.

Yeah, those eyes won't cry themselves. Poor P-dawg.

I know. I mean, on the surface he seems fine.

But you should see how messed up his imaginary friend is.

I'm not imaginary! You're imaginary!

You're imaginary! You're imaginary!

All right, Crunchie, all right. Ah, shut up, you big stupid mick!

I don't think he's diluted that, I think he's drinking it neat.

And I think it might be really helpful to just sit down

and have a chat about your problems, you know?

With someone who has compassionate ears.

Is this cos Padraic was hiding in your closet?

Sure, he does that here. He'll come out of the closet

when he's good and ready.

To be honest, Debs, we have tried stuff.

Books and watching Dr Bill.

We even did a mediation thing with the priest.

I just don't know what I can do. I just don't know

how I can please him! Yeah, yeah, yeah! He seems unpleasable!

Shut up! I'm holding the Jesus cushion!

I get to talk now!

That's is actually the listening cushion. Idiot!

Pat's holding the Conch of Mary... I'll crack it over your fecking head!

Bells, Padraic, bells!

There's a big difference between a priest

and a marriage counsellor.

I thought you were a fatty instructor?

I'm an all-rounder, Paddy. I just improve people's lives.

Whether it's lightening up a drooping marriage or

tightening up drooping bingo wings.

But you've no actual experience?

Which is why I'm offering the trainee discount.

And there's tea included with that.

Oh, stop!

And Jaffa cakes. Sold.

Hey, want to go into the pet shop, P-dawg?

Nah, I should probably head home.

See if I can fall asleep before the screaming kicks off. C'mon, P.

Nothing'll take your mind off your problems at home like looking

at a bunch of mad animals cooped up in a cage together.

Well, I can't argue with that logic.

We're not putting ya out here, Liam?

No, no. Actually, I prefer working outside when it's nice and cold.

Thanks, Liam. I love you.

And appreciate you. With all my heart.

Weirdo. Now.

To kick things off, I thought I'd let you share your many problems.

Just to get a sense of why your marriage is so very terrible.

So, Pat, if you'd like to go first.

And, Paddy, if you'd like to just listen for now.

And then respond. OK?

Are those our Jaffa cakes?

We'll have the cakes later. First the tears, then the cakes.

Pat.

Debra. Pat.

Debra.

Go ahead, Pat.

Oh, well, I think the big problem is communication. Mm-hm.

We don't talk any more. Bar the shouting.

And the roaring.

Uh-huh.

When we first got married, we were like two peas in a pod. Mm-hm.

Now we're like two peas in some miserable pea soup,

that's watery and bland and hateful.

And what about you, Paddy? What do you see as the problem?

Feeling any better, P?

Yeah, nothing lifts the sprits like the smell of caged fear.

Where'd you get that? Nicked it?! Nicked it?!

From the hamsters? Why? Felt like nicking it.

Do you want one?

What?! Of course I want one!

It feels like Christmas.

Wait, isn't this kind of wrong?

I don't know. I've been thieving loads, lately! It's great craic.

Let's do it again!

This is amazing! He's gone rogue.

He's a rebel from a broken home with nothing to prove.

I never thought I'd say this,

but Padraic's actually becoming pretty flipping cool.

Yeah, but cool in a bad way, right?

Don't you remember our song about cool people?

# Follow them, copy them Do everything that they do

Danger?

That's it, buddy. Now, just stroll down the street. Nice and casual.

Oh, balls.

Oh, I must give up the chocolate fags.

So what did you get?

Some frozen peas. And a box of cling-film. Deadly!