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.
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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
♪ Never question, that's our rule And then we will be cool! Yeah! ♪
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!
What a score!
What about you?
Six jars of jam. And a healthy begonia semperflorens.
Sweet! What'll we do with it all?
I'm thinking a jam and clingfilm party! Who's with me?
Let's throw them all in the river!
Both good ideas.
Well, we could clingfilm everything so it doesn't get wet.
Now that's what I'm talking about.
That's a Martin Moone party. Keeping it fresh!
So how did the first counselling session go last night?
Yeah, good. Oh, yeah? It's just,
I noticed a few windows in the workshop got smashed.
Oh, balls.
Shards and crumbs everywhere.
To be honest, Liam, this is actually a lot harder than I thought.
I just can't seem to get Paddy to open up.
Well, don't worry about it, love.
The important thing is, you gave it a whole day before giving up.
Hey! I'm not giving up.
I'm just saying that resuscitating a dead,
loveless marriage isn't a total piece of piss.
Like I thought it would be.
Well, some men can feel a bit vulnerable around women.
Maybe I should invite Paddy out for a few rounds with the lads.
Yeah, that might soften him up a bit.
Exactly. Get him to lower his guard and you can finish him off.
No, that's not what I had in mind.
Team Moone!
And so it was that Martin Moone embarked on a life of crime,
taking to it like a duck to marital breakdown.
Goo-goo, ga-ga. I've done a toilet!
Nice day for it.
Argh!
And then Declan said, "I don't think you're even my real father."
Sweet Jesus.
And it hurt me deep.
Of course it did.
Cos I'm not 100% sure meself.
Well, It was the '70s.
The Irish '60s.
Heady days.
It's mad to think that I'm a grandad now.
But I'm still just a young lad.
A boy, with hopes and desires.
Let's talk about desires now. I had a great one last night.
Ya know the young one from the nunnery?
Hold that thought there, Frank.
Is there anything you'd like to share, Paddy?
When does the poker start?
Here we go! What's so funny?
Well, you see, Paddy, we don't really play poker here.
No, it's more kind of high stakes emoting that we're dealing.
You nailed it there.
Whingeing about your families, is it?
Well, exploring the difficulties of the modern male, I suppose.
My wife is a stupid old cow.
And that makes me so sad.
So is it my birthday or something?
No. We're here because the other imaginary friends
and I are worried about you, buddy.
And we thought it was time to have a little talk at you.
Is this an intervention? In a pub?!
Look, Crunchie, it's just that we're a little bit
concerned about your behaviour lately.
What behaviour?
I watched you wrestle a bicycle yesterday, Crunch. And you lost.
You lost against a bicycle.
It started it! Spoked me in the eye!
Don't you start, Derrick.
We were there for you when that bitch left you.
And then there's your drinking.
Last week you puked into my Cinderella slippers.
And then you drank it.
Well, at least it shows I'm cleaning up after myself.
Oh, come on! Do you think this is what Padraic had in mind
when he picked you as his imaginary friend?
An old wrestler in a babygro drinking shoe sick?
Maybe?
You're right, Derrick! I'm so sorry.
It's been so stressful at home with Padraic, it got to me.
OK? I'm only human.
I've failed him, I should be there for that boy.
Thou shalt not steal!
You took our water feeders. When we were crossing the dessert!
Drink his blood!
Pile on!
Get off me, hamsters!
Hey.
It's OK, Martin. It was just a bad dream.
You get used to them.
Thanks, Padraic. G'night.
Night, pal.
Night, Sinead.
I've a knife under my pillow.
Okey-doke. Night, all.
Hateful glances, words unsaid, dreams forgotten.
I want to start over, but I can't even see the start line any more.
What if ye have a holiday?
I hear Blackpool is nice.
I need a new life, not a new bed.
A life where I can look in the mirror
and not despise the boy staring back.
You're sharing too much.
We only really want 20% honesty.
Maybe, Paddy, the whole counselling thing might be more suitable.
I'm drowning in pathos over here.
Counselling my hole.
Another room where women take turns judging me.
Ridiculing me.
Like Mammy did.
What if I came along, too?
You and me, Liam.
Together.
Two little boys standing tall.
Okey-dokey.
I think I'll go and get the poker set. I'll come with you.
I wonder what we'll nick next. We've done every joint in town.
Yeah, it felt like we were running out of places
when we stole those coat hangers from Oxfam.
Not to worry, I suppose we'll just start over. Like Bonnie and Clyde.
C'mon, sweet cheeks, me thieving fingers are getting giddy.
I think I might sit this one out.
My thieving fingers have pilferer's fatigue.
But it's not as fun if we don't do it together.
Well, maybe you don't have to do it either? Ha!
I said it's not as fun, Bonnie. Alone it's still brilliant craic.
Why do I always have to be the girl?
So here we are again. All of us.
Hopefully we can reach a new state of honesty and reconciliation.
What does Liam have to say?
We're really just here to listen.
I want to listen too.
To Liam.
Well, marriage is hard.
Finally, someone talking a bit of bloody sense in here.
But how do we make it easier, Liam?
Go on, Liam, throw us some pearls.
Yes, Liam, fill us with your wisdom.
All right.
Paddy, once a week,
say something nice about Pat's hair.
Oh, for God's sake! Will do. Your hair is nice.
Nice and thick.
Thanks, Paddy. That means a lot.
I have one. Respect each other's space.
That's rich, sitting in my workshop.
Well done, Liam. Stand tall, little man.
How do you get your hair so thick?
Hello.
Hello, stupid ears.
Ah, hello little fellas.
That won't quench your thirst, fella.
No, but it'll take the edge off.
Yeah, but think of the hamsters. All caged up, famished and alone.
They're five to a cage.
Yeah, and all they want is a bit of peace.
A quiet life, far away from their ferocious furry family.
I think I know what you're saying, you wise old bastard.
Good. Cos it felt very hazy to me.
I knew you were trouble the minute I saw you!
It's little brats like you that make my life hell,
with your shaggy hair and your giddy hands.
Sorry.
Remember the dodgy rhyme, buddy.
A friend who thieves is a friend indeed!
Bonnie! Who the hell are you?
I am the water feeder thief. This man is innocent. Set him free!
Is the water feeders gone too?
I just opened up all the cages.
Oh, balls.
Right, lads. Let's break it down.
Marriage. Always. Requires. Really. Impressive. Affection.
Goals. Etc.
Brilliant. Say it again, Liam, I want to write it down.
It's not even a sentence.
Wait!
It spells marriage, too! You're a genius, Liam.
Moone and Moone marriage savers?
'I've got kids down here. They let the rabbits out!'
They what?!
If I catch them in here again, I'll have to call the guards.
I'm so sorry, I'm afraid Padraic has had some problems at home.
This is the one who did the stealing.
So your child is the bad child?
There's no such thing as a bad child, Pat.
Apart from your fella. The thief.
Well, his father always had a bit of a dark streak. Me?
Says Little Miss "Oh, did I forget to pay for the petrol?"
One time, that happened. Probably from watching you "forget" so often.
I mean, it's almost impenetrable to the weather. How do you do it?
A woman has her secrets, Paddy.
Maybe I'll let them slip when we get home.
Lovely, I'm looking forward to a nice cup of tea
and putting my feet up in the wardrobe.
Hope there's room for one more.
I'll always make room for you, my friend.
At least I've never come back from a wedding with
a set of cutlery in my purse.
They were wedding favours, Liam. Everyone was taking them.
You're the one always sampling grapes at the supermarket.
I need to know if they're sweet. Not like you.
You big sour grape!
Wow! Your parents get vicious pretty quick.
Yeah. They're like a pair of flipping swans.
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