The Mighty Celt (2005) - full transcript

Go on, you Fenian bastards, youse.

Watch your heads!

Incoming!

Yeah!

Donal. Coming?

It's Saturday, Joe.
You don't normally need me on Saturday.

I do today.

Unless you'd rather stay
and play that stupid English game.

Shit!

- Donal, what are you like?
- I slipped.

- What are your feet for?
- What?



Your feet are for dancing with.
What's your head for?

If it's too hard for you to carry two,
carry one.

Then go back and get the other one.

Easy-peasy japanesey.

Go and get your pups seen to.

- Do you wanna take the door with you?
- Sorry, Joe.

Jesus, you're an awkward one,
young Morrison.

- Ma?
- Your dinner's in the oven.

- And where are you going?
- Bingo.

- On a Tuesday?
- It's for charity.

- I don't have to explain myself to you.
- Yes, you do.

Cheeky shite.

Eat your dinner up now.

Hey.



- Don't be late now.
- Bye.

You've done really well for yourself.
Your businesses, property. Your restaurants.

What about you? You never marry?

Near did, my last girl, too much baggage.

- Baggage?
- Last girl I was out with.

Been married before,
but she had two kids to two different men.

Ill-reared louts they were, the two of them.

The kids I'm talking about.

Them kids,
it was all F-U-C-K this and F-U-C-K that.

One thing I can't abide, bad language.

- What?
- Nothing.

Something I said?

- I have a kid.
- Oh.

Oh.

I didn't know.

And he says fuck the odd time,
but it doesn't make him a bad child.

- Look, Kate...
- Thanks for dinner.

I'm sorry, it's all my fault.

- Have an aperitif.
- Can't, or me baggage will lock me out.

Cheer up. It might never happen.

- I told you to keep those muzzles on.
- What?

What were you told?

I didn't want to tie them too tight.
It cuts into their faces.

Two grews.
65 pound and 60 pound in weight.

Grew's made up of nothing
but muscle and power

and gobs full of broken glass.

They start fighting,
they'll tear each other apart.

There'd be no winner. Only one loser.

Me.

Right, Joe. It won't happen again.

Donal!

I'm A Cripple's coming with some yokes
from the sales for us.

No problems, Joe.

- Feet like a cat.
- I'd say she's caught your eye all right, Joe.

- What about this fella?
- Good feet.

Look at this, Joe.

Game bitch. How much for the bitch?

1,500.

What about this one, Joe? He's a belter.

- Nervy.
- Keen but. Seems to have plenty of heart.

- You reckon?
- Aye, and he's got balls, Joe.

- Where'd you get this one, Joe?
- Sometimes I wonder.

- How much for the dog?
- Won't be that hard on you. Give me the 800.

You being shite? That was for the bitch.

Something wrong with your head
as well as your legs?

- The dog's untried.
- Could be a wanker, then.

Or he could be a champion.

He's right, son.

Five's me last. And four bags of meal.

- Five bags.
- You auld bastard.

Don't you open your mouth again
when I'm dealing.

- Do you hear me?
- Yeah.

Can I name him, Joe?

- We'll see.
- Thanks, Joe.

I'll be real careful with him.

There'll be no problem with this dog, Joe.

See, there you go again.

- Saying instead of listening.
- But it will, Joe.

You will listen, you'll listen good.

Now, you can look after him.
Don't get attached to him.

Grews aren't pets. Grews are tools.

If that fella doesn't do the business,

he'll find himself up Wheeler's lake
with a boulder on his head.

Come here.

It's not exactly the Hilton Hotel,
but it's better than nothing.

Compared to some of the dives
I've stayed in over the years...

it's not that bad.

Aye.

Say it was rough.
On the run for that length of time.

Well, put it like this,
it's not as easy as it is now.

What did you expect, a medal?

The very least.

Dia duit a cardre.

We are gathered here today

to commemorate and celebrate the memory
of brave volunteer Brendan Morrison,

who was killed on this day 13 years ago
on active service

on June 22, 1991 by Ireland's enemies.

I'd also like to say a big dia duit to a man

who was one of volunteer
Brendan Morrison's closest friends

and comrade...

Eoin O'Loan,

who has made his first excursion
into the North

since that day when his friend was executed

and he himself wounded. O.

Volunteer Morrison's sister Kate
and his nephew Donal

will lay wreaths on behalf of National Graves
and Oglaigh na h-Eireann.

I'm sleeping.

- Your dinner's still there.
- Don't want it.

- It's spaghetti bolognese.
- Hate it.

- Since?
- Whenever.

- Everything all right, son?
- Sweet.

Your man that was at our Brendy's do.

Was he with our Brendy when he was killed?

He was.

Celt. Here, boy. Come here.

Here, boy.

Good lad.

Come on, come on.

- Put the milk in the pups' paddocks?
- Did, aye.

- Given the brood bitches their vitamins?
- Doing it now.

Should have been done.

Thought of a name for the new dog.

- What dog?
- The good dog.

It's not a good dog
until it's made me some money.

All right, the new fawn dog.

- What about it?
- The Mighty Celt.

- What sort of name's that?
- What's wrong with it?

- Bet you don't even know what it means.
- Told you before about your cheek.

Celt was another name for a Celtic Warrior.
Cuchulainn.

He had a hurl, all his enemies feared him.

You can head now.
I've got a wee message to do.

- What about the brood bitches?
- I'll do them.

Right then.

- Right?
- Right.

Wanna watch that walking in the road there.

Do you want a lift?

- No, you're all right.
- Sweet.

All right, Kate?

- Don't be like this.
- Get away from about me.

- Kate.
- You deaf as well as dumb?

I was wounded.

Who wasn't?

Donal.

Bring this to them lads. They're doing
a bit of work for me up in the loft.

Joe sent this up.

Donal, come here.

- Still got them ferrets?
- Aye.

Want you to go with those men.

- Where?
- Never you mind where.

This fella says there's a place
down the way crawling with rabbits.

Come on, he's not gonna ride you.

I don't know about that.
He's not a bad-looking one, is he, lads?

- Where are you going in a rush?
- Hunting.

"Hello. How are you today, Ma?"

Joe was telling me you had an uncle
who was killed in active service.

- Dead.
- Fair play.

What do you think he'd say
if he knew what was going on here now?

- What is going on here now?
- What's going on?

"We're being sold out. " That's what he'd say.

My ma says she's glad it's over.

Says no one should have to go through
what she has.

Don't you be listening to your ma.

Shh.

Right.

You ready to go, cub? Come on.

- How's your rabbits doing?
- All right.

Why do they want them alive?

- Well, what do you think?
- I don't know.

- Keep them fresh to eat?
- No.

He keeps them alive
so he can throw them to the greyhounds.

Sharpens them up for the races.
Cruel bastard.

You're not to go near that shed.

Mushrooms have to be kept in the dark
all the time. You hear me?

Heard.

- How many rabbits did you get?
- None.

None?

That culchie bastard told me it was like
Watership Down down there.

There was loads of them,
I just couldn't catch any.

Well, that's us banjaxed.

Our dog needs a kill. Got a race in a week.

Does he have to get a kill?

A dog needs to know
he can catch what he chases.

- Gives him heart.
- Plenty of heart, Joe.

You've seen him with his squeezy toy.

- Dog needs blood on his tongue.
- Be sweet, Joe. Bet you.

A good doggie man
never bets against his dog.

Stand by.

- Okay.
- Here.

- Go.
- Go on, Celt! Go on, son!

- Good?
- Good enough to enter a race.

Donal, you're doing a good job
with your wee dog.

- He's a turn of foot, a ball of speed.
- He does, aye.

The real test is on the night.
When he's in the traps.

From now on...

- you can work with the racing dogs.
- I don't mind, Joe.

I like working with pups
and the brood bitches.

- For once will you just do as you're told?
- Right, Joe.

Sorry, Joe.

Jesus, you're an awkward one,
young Morrison.

He flew, Ma. The dog flew.

He's a turn of foot.

- What?
- A ball of speed.

What is it, a dog or a car?

- Lf he was a car, he'd be a bastard Ferrari.
- Lingo.

Sorry, Ma.

That head of yours
is too auld for them shoulders.

Now can we talk about something else
other than your dog and this Good Joe?

- He let me name him and all.
- Enough.

Now just you calm your jets.

And don't be getting all hyped up about this.

You'll choke to death on your food.

- Ma, it's not that bad.
- Wee shite.

Here. Here.

Come on.

Good lad.

Good lad. Good lad, come on.

You all right, mister?

Knock your pan out.

Hey, I know you.
You were at our Brendy's commemoration.

That's right. You must be Kate's kid.

- Donal.
- Aye.

There you go. Small world, eh?

- Want one?
- You're all right.

Bad for your health.

I'm not the one that can't walk up a wee hill.

It's the Black Mountain.

You knew our Brendy, didn't you?

I did, aye.

- You were there with him?
- I was.

I wasn't even born when he was stiffed.

What was he like?

I mean,
I know what everyone says he was like,

but that's if you can believe what they say.

- Who's that?
- Everybody.

Right.

He was a fair fella.

Good craic, you know?

Used to come up here.

- What for?
- The Brits had a shooting range over there.

Used to come up and collect
the wee bullet cases.

- Where?
- You wanna see?

Hey, I hope you're not a bum bandit.

Been called a lot of things,
that's not one of them.

Come on, let's go.

- So what do you call him?
- The Mighty Celt.

The mythical Irish warrior. Cuchulainn.

Same one. How did you know that?

I know a lot of things, I do.

Come on, pal. Go for a run.

- Well, look who it is.
- All right, Joe. How are you?

Still here. Still unrepentant.

Unlike the rest of you sell-outs.

You're entitled to your opinion.
Free country now.

Funny fella. Well, it's not.

We're worse off than we ever were.
Fuck all's changed.

Like I said, you're entitled to your opinion.

You should be ashamed of yourself.

You're keeping bad company, Donal.

Put that dog up and hurry up about it.

- What was wrong there?
- Well, we agree to disagree.

- So you work for Good Joe?
- He knows the craic.

So he'd have you believe.

Hup, hup, hup, hup, hup.

Ready?

- Off you go.
- Come on. Here.

Come on. Here, here.

What's the matter with you?
Young fella like you.

Should be on your second wind by now.

Right, breather's over. Ready, go.

Come on, here, here, Celt.

Celt, come here.

Celt. Good lad.

Come on. Here, here.

Good boy.

Good boy.

So have we got a winner here or not?

Reckon he's as good a chance as any.

But, is this race shorter
than the one he ran the other day?

At the trial?

330. 550 last time.
But he's early pace so it makes sense.

He's more a stayer than a sprinter.

- You telling me how to do dogs?
- Not at all, Joe.

- So, you reckon he's gonna win tonight?
- Reckon.

Mighty Celt.

Mighty Celt, 30 pounds.

- Mighty Celt.
- Mighty Celt.

Go on, Mary! Get on, bitch.

Jesus.

Told you we should have got
that wanker a rabbit.

You can go on.

I'll clear up in here.

- No, Joe! No!
- What did I tell you?

You can't, Joe. You can't.

There's nothing worse than a jadey dog.

A dog that only runs when he wants to.

A dog with no heart. No balls.

Joe, just saying he got bumped.
And that was his first time in the traps.

- Remember what you said?
- Never mind what I said.

He'll win when I want!
He'll be stopped when I want!

- They're not robots, Joe!
- No, they're tools!

That's what they are!

There won't be a next time!

- I'll get him to win.
- More than you to do that.

If I get him to win, can I keep him?

What?

Wise up, son. You're soft, son.

- We've wasted enough time on this wanker.
- Maybe.

But at least you get a turn.

You'll get his prize money
and whatever you bet on him.

Three races.

I train him and then after three races
I own him.

- Waste of time.
- And I'll work all hours you want.

- Every morning? Every evening?
- Whatever.

I want them racing dogs
with their legs walked off them.

I want that paddock cleaned in the afternoon.

They will.

You're soft, son.

Soft as putty.

We'll show him, son. We'll show him.

Celt.

Fuck's sake.

- There's your pizza, mate, okay?
- Thanks.

Waterboot you?

- Where did you get those waterboots?
- Same place you got that head.

Is that right, Wank-the-dogs?

- Give us a bit of pizza.
- Fuck off.

Funny bastard, aren't you, Wank-the-dogs?

- I want a bit of your pizza.
- It's not mine.

Well, you've no reason
not to give me a bit then, do you?

Will you wise up? Will you let go?

Fuck off!

Fucking wise up! Let go!

- Will you let go?
- I said let go.

- You let go.
- I'm not gonna tell you again.

I told you.
And all I wanted was a wee slice, too.

You can have it now.

Get off me, you big bastard. Get off me.

What are you doing?
I'll kill you, you wee bastard. I'll kill you.

Break it up. Leave him alone.
Leave him alone.

What's it got to do with you, Bigfoot?

- Knock it on the head. Leave it.
- You're dead, Wank-the-dogs, dead.

What did I just say to you?

Can't believe you got him
to buy me a new one.

The least he could do.

That was a cracker, "skinny shite".

Would you have really
thrown him over the railings?

- Auld ceak talk just to scare him.
- You wouldn't scare no one.

Thanks very much.

You know, you're the funniest looking
IRA man I've ever saw.

- So what did you expect?
- Someone big and ugly.

- I don't quite know how to take that.
- In a good way.

Want a bit?

No, you're all right.
Have to watch the weight.

Right enough.

- Thanks a lot.
- Any time, son.

- Everything all right, son?
- Sweet.

- Want a slice of pizza?
- No.

- Have to watch the figure.
- You, too?

You'll touch whose dog? My dog?

My good dog?

The Mighty Celt?

The fastest greyhound in the hood?

The dog I trained?

Who am I? I'm the IRA is who I...

- All right?
- I was.

- How long is this going on for?
- For as long as it takes.

Like the uniform.

Beats a balaclava and gloves.

Bit of a fall from grace, eh?

Don't know about that. Does for a while.

- Thinking about going back to university.
- You were never at university.

School, then.

- How long you in here?
- Wee while.

It's not that bad. They've got a great deal
on chicken fillets, you know.

Buy one, get one free.

- Where?
- The last aisle.

Right.

- Thanks.
- You're very welcome.

- Get in.
- You're all right.

It's like a monsoon, get in.

- I don't need you.
- Jesus, Kate! It's a lift is all it is.

- You don't drive?
- Never got round to it.

- Handy to have.
- I would say.

- What about Donal?
- He doesn't drive either.

I never see him now. Mad for that dog.

- I see a lot of Brendan in him.
- Do you now?

And you.

He be more like his da than anyone.

Another waster who pissed off.

What did you expect me to do?
Become a nun?

This weather's nuts.

- Ireland.
- That's why it's so green.

Queen's University won't know what hit it.

Thanking you.

- Need a hand?
- No. All right, bye. Thanks.

Listen, Kate, if you like,
if you want, I'll teach you how to drive.

Come in handy.
For the shops and all when it rains or what.

Okay, then, you're on.

- When?
- I'll contact you.

- How are you gonna manage that?
- You're easy to find.

I was thinking of putting your wee dog
in the 550.

550?

- Good idea.
- Get him ready.

Take a deep breath.

- I can't do it.
- You can.

When you change from first to second,
count to three slowly.

You'll be fine.

In neutral. Start her up.

First. That's it.

There you go.

Well?

Well, what?

- How'd I do?
- Fine.

You're lying. I could always tell.

- What would you want me to say?
- The truth.

Need more practice. It's your first time.

- Want to go out again?
- When?

- Tomorrow night?
- Can't. Donal's dog's running.

- Whereabouts?
- The dog track.

- How you getting there?
- Taxi, I suppose.

- Why don't you drive?
- You're serious?

I'll check my diary,
but I'm almost sure I'm free.

- Stop it.
- What?

You know what.
You forget I've been there before.

Look, it makes sense,
but you need to practise.

I wouldn't mind seeing
Donal and this dog of his.

- This isn't a date.
- I never said it was.

...ticket 35.

Three monkeys, Mighty Celt.

Three monkeys, Mighty Celt. Ticket 37.

Donal!

Come on, Celt!

Celt!

Go on, Celt! Go on!

- Yes!
- Yes!

You did brilliant, son.

Knew from the minute the traps went up.
There was no stopping him.

- Some pup.
- Which one?

Joe!

Ready to go?

Ma, this is Joe. Joe, Ma.

- Heard a lot about you.
- Sure you have.

Right, we better be heading.
Get this bucko fed and watered.

You coming with us, love?

Joe's taking me out for chinkers.

Well, see you later, son.

You've done really well.

Thanks.

- Thanks, Joe.
- I look after the good 'uns.

He's a good 'un.

Fair to middling.
You did a good job with him, son.

- Thanks, Joe.
- You do a good job, you get paid well.

- I'm all right, Joe.
- Come on. Put hairs on your hole.

See tomorrow, son, you take the day off.

- No, Joe, I...
- We got a result.

- Thanks, Joe.
- Just one thing, Donal.

Never bite the hand that feeds you.

Always remember that. You hear me?

Thanks.

This is nice.

Been in worse.

- There you go.
- Thanks.

Oh, Kate.

- You look the same as you always did.
- Sure I do.

- Stop staring at me.
- Jesus, Kate, I'm sorry.

You're looking at me
like a cat looks at a goldfish.

- You'd never think that we...
- No.

You know, someone said to me once...

there's two types of people that live here.

Survivors and victims.

And do you know what? I am both of them.

I am a surviving victim
like a million others here.

But here, sine. Life goes on.

So, I'm sorry, too, O.

Sorry I'm not a wee bit more open
or optimistic.

But that's just the way it goes.

- Shouldn't be so hard on yourself.
- It's in my nature.

- Not that I can remember.
- What can you remember?

I remember you loved clove rock sweets.

And you drank Pernod.

And when we kissed, I could taste it.

And I liked it.

Your favourite song of all time
is When Doves Cry by Prince.

You hate fiddley-dee music,
but you like scary films.

- There you go now.
- And...

you've got balls.
Metaphorically speaking, of course.

- Thanks. I'll take that as a compliment.
- You're welcome.

You always were polite, O.
One of the things I liked about you.

- Few things.
- You had your moments.

Nice to be nice.

Manners cost very little
but are worth more than diamonds.

Stop it.

What?

You know, O, I didn't just get like this.
It takes years of practice.

- For what, Kate?
- For me being the way I am.

Look, you know the craic yourself.

All right for you gallivanting round
God knows where, a martyr.

At least you seen things. Had experiences.

All I seen was this housing estate,
all I had was my child.

And I'm lucky for him.

But it still makes me angry
about the way it all turned out.

It'll get better.

It better.

If you were trying to get me drunk,
you succeeded.

- What is this shite?
- It's classical.

- Who do you think you are?
- Me.

Aye.

You just sit back and enjoy.

- What are you doing?
- Putting you to bed.

O?

Do you know you're Donal's daddy?

Thanks.

You're sure?

Look, I don't know
what's the best way to do this either.

- Why?
- Why do you think?

You pissed off on me.
It was all over the news.

You were shot
and I never heard a mute from you again.

Couldn't have sent word?

How by? Carrier pigeon?

- What does the wee lad know?
- I told him his da was away.

- Away where?
- Anywhere. Everywhere.

- And that was that?
- Well, it's not like he missed anything.

Awful sorry for you, O,
but what are you annoyed at?

The fact that he didn't know
someone who was never there

or the fact that I didn't tell him his father
was someone who was never there?

- There was a war on, Kate.
- Stop. Had enough of that, too.

All that wee lad has had is me
and them dogs he spends all his time with.

- You've some balls. You're angry with me?
- I'm not angry.

I don't know what I am.

I know what we have to do.

- Take a seat, son.
- What's wrong with youse two?

Myself and O have something to say.

Wait, don't tell me.
Youse two are getting married?

Not exactly.

- You see, your mother and I...
- You sound like my da or something.

That's 'cause I am.

You're bollocks!

He is.

Well, Da, pleased to meet you.

Ma, what's for dinner? I'm starving.

Mighty Celt.

Come on, Celt!

Yes!

Sweet.

It's great.

I'm bollocksed.

How many times have I told you
about your language?

Sorry, Ma.

- Night, O.
- Good night, kid.

Bollocksed!

I'd better be going.

You don't have to.

Stay.

Kate.

- All right.
- All right.

- Hi.
- Hiya. What can I get you?

Four tins of Guinness, please, love.
And any non-alcoholic beer?

- Kaliber?
- Four of them as well.

Your face will stay like that.
Climb down, you wee monkey.

You all right? Well done.

- When is this last race?
- Three days.

Joe's agreed? The deal of the three races?

Shook on it and all.

This beer's strong.

- It's the strongest.
- It's got me blootered.

Sorry, Da.

Here, to the Mighty Celt.

- Get it out of you.
- Get it out of you.

So, are you gonna have a yarn
about the troubles or what?

- You mean the war.
- All right then, the war.

Not much to tell.

Bad things happened.

Can't imagine you doing bad things.

Neither did I.

Let's talk about something else.
Like you doing well.

- What about you doing well?
- How's that?

You're alive, aren't you?

Never thought like that.

Maybe you should.

You're not angry, son?

There's no point.

Me not being there?

You're here now.

Aye.

You wanna knock that smoking on the head.

Here, you're ripping the arse
out of this Da thing.

Aye.

Right enough.

Good boy, Celt.

Big night tonight. Red hot favourite.

Two races on the trot, huh?

You've done a good job with him.

You done a good job.

But a deal is a deal.

He's your dog, but he's part of my team.

If it's not broke, don't fix it.
That's what I say.

The thing is, me and O...

we've built a kennel up at my ma's.

You and O?

Is that right?

You and him's got right and tight
all of a sudden.

He's a good guy.

What about the kennels?

I can still lend you a hand.

Donal, get us two teas. I'll mind your dog.

- I don't want one.
- But I do.

Hard lines, son.

You wanker, you! You wanker!

- You stopped him! You made Celt lose!
- Shut your mouth.

- No, I won't.
- The dog lost, that's it.

You're a liar.

What are youse fucking looking at?

You all right?

- How did you know where I was?
- Your ma.

Know why?

You know what it's like on the estate.

Everybody knows everything
about everybody.

He promised me, O.

Swore blind to me that the dog was mine.

And he stopped him.
The wanker stopped him.

- I know all about him, son.
- You don't, though.

He didn't care about them dogs.

Once they get injured or start to lose races,

he hits them over the head with a hammer
and throws them into that lake there.

He's had dogs for years.

And he still doesn't know
where he's going wrong.

But, O, I do. He doesn't love them dogs.

If you can't love an auld dog...

you can't love nothing.

He's not gonna do that to Celt, though.
He's not.

- All right, O.
- You all right, Turlough?

Look, we heard. This auld bastard
messing the wee lad about?

I'll take care of it.

O, listen to me.
Let us, that's what we're here for.

Besides, we're looking for an excuse
to pull his horns in.

I really, really appreciate it. I do.

- It's only a phone call away.
- Well, that's the way it goes.

- Since when?
- Since now, Turlough O'Neill.

I know you from dot
and I know you mean well.

But we want nothing else
coming to this door. Them days are over.

We want no one else to ever get hurt.
We can fight our own battles.

Look, Kate, sorry. I'm only here to help.

Thanks but no thanks.

Your dinner's ready.

O.

I was only showing my face.

This auld bastard kills them dogs
as quick as he looks at them.

See, if I was you, I'd get up there quick.

- I will.
- O, Donal, dinner!

Donal!

Jesus!

You're on private property.

- All right, Joe?
- Don't you all right me.

- Here for the dog, Joe.
- I know what you're here for, you wee rat.

After all I've done for you.

You stroked me, Joe. You know you did.

Remember I told you,
never bite the hand that feeds you.

You also told me a good doggie man
never bets against his own dog.

You're getting nothing.

Dog lost last night. Deal's off.

Here for the fucking dog, Joe.

He's mine and that's that!

I know about the guns!

What did you say, you wee runt?

I know about the gear, tell you better.
The IRA will, too, unless you give me him.

Now, give me him now!

You want your dog?
I'll give him to you, all right.

No! No!

The deal was three races. The dog lost.

He was always a jadey dog.

Now get the fuck off my property...

before you get the same!

The cheek!

Now don't have me to come over there.

Jesus!

Donal!

Donal.

Donal.

Put the gun down.

- He killed him, O. He killed him.
- I know. I know, son.

You wee bastard. You're in trouble, too.

You wanna shoot me now?

- He's not worth it, son.
- You listen to it.

Listen to that ball-less traitor!

You listen to that, you'll end up like it.

- A gutless, wasted traitor.
- Shut up!

You see, son,
it takes balls to pull the trigger.

It doesn't, Donal!
Anyone can pull a trigger, son.

- No balls!
- Shut up!

It takes a man to pull the trigger.
Not a schoolboy.

- Fuck up!
- Joe.

Your uncle, now he had balls.

Shut your mouth.

Touch him again, I swear you're dead!

Listen to me, son.

Listen to me, son. You're too good for this.
You're too good for this now.

He killed my dog! My dog!

He deserves it! Deserves it!

Get! Get!

That's what he deserves.
That's what he deserves.

He can do nothing to them dogs now, son.
Nothing.

Give me the gun.

Give me the gun.

Good, son.

Look at me, Donal.

Donal.

- I'm proud of you, son.
- Why?

He got away with it.

No, he didn't. You know why?

Because he hasn't got you.

And he hasn't got the dogs.

- And he won't ever again.
- How?

You gonna trust me?

Will you?

Come on.

We need a happy ending, son.

All the stories can't be bad ones.

Everything all right?

We've a visitor.

- This soup's the ticket.
- Best.

There's more if anybody wants it.

Reckon I'd be up for that.

My good lad.