Father Ted (1995–1998): Season 3, Episode 7 - Night of the Nearly Dead - full transcript
After winning a poetry contest, Mrs. Doyle gets a visit by the shows host and a few of his crazed fans.
(TV) 'It really is extraordinary.'
'Strange, short emissions,
'which the patient shouts out,
seemingly involuntarily.'
'Firk!'
'Arpse!'
Arse!
'Grals!'
Girls!
Dougal, there's nothing on.
Why don't you read a book?
Oh, right.
No, Dougal. Read a different book.
Actually, it's been a few minutes.
I'll see if there's
anything good on now.
Honestly, Dougal,
you've got to broaden your mind.
What are you reading, anyway?
Well, I'm re-reading it.
William Shatner, Tek Wars.
Oh, no! This eejit!
# My lovely Mayo Mammy
# So gentle and so wise
# Rocking on your rocking chair,
baking cakes and pies
# My lovely Mayo Mammy
# My lovely, lovely Mayo Mam
It's Eoin!
Father, isn't he lovely?
He's a brilliant dancer as well.
Ugh!
Now, it's time to announce the winner
of my fabulous poetry competition.
You wrote a poem about me,
and the prize is that I come to
the winner's house for a cup of tea.
God! Can you imagine that! Oh, God!
So, over I go to my poetry corner.
Ok, here it is. This week's winner.
"Eoin McLove is his name,
"Singing songs is his game,
"Someday, I will say hello,
and for a cup of tea, we will go."
(All) Aw!
And the winner is
Mrs O'Neill from kildare.
And it says here,
she's 110 years old!
(All) Ooh!
She also asks me what my favourite
things in the world are.
I'd have to say...
Well, jumpers and...
cakes.
Oh, no! What's this?
It's a little puppy
with a broken paw.
(All) Aw!
I'd better go home
and nurse it back to health.
Goodbye, everybody.
(All) Bye!
Hard luck, Mrs Doyle!
Maybe next time.
There's one of his songs
reminds me of the time my husband...
I've said too much.
I'll just go listen
to his latest album. He's brilliant!
Ha, women!
Where?
No, I mean... "Women!"
Oh, right, yeah. "Women!"
- Tscha!
- Tscha!
Can't live with 'em,
can't live without 'em!
Yeah! But there definitely
aren't any women in here?
No, you're fine.
Do you know what?
I could write a poem for that show.
Be honest, the poetry Mrs Doyle
writes will is bound to be hopeless!
What would you write about?
Ah, Dougal, inspiration
can come from so many places.
Argh!
No, no, Father Nolan
was in the gas explosion.
Punched a hole in his chest
the size of a football!
They identified
him with dental records!
- Poor Father Nolan!
- Yes, he's very low at the moment.
(Gasps )
(Gibbering) Oh, my God!
Eoin... Island!
Calm down, what was that again?
To Craggy Island... Read out my poem!
Your poem? Well, I wrote it
as a surprise. It was my poem.
No, no! It's mine!
I'm sorry, Mrs Doyle, I don't
think so. What's the first line?
"Eoin McLove has a happy face."
That's not my poem!
No, it's mine! Ha ha ha ha!
I'm hugely confused, Ted.
The only thing I can think of
that must have happened
is that Mrs Doyle's poem
was better than yours.
But that couldn't be, could it?
That your poem
was actually worse than Mrs Doyle's?
That just couldn't happen, could it?
Could it?
- When's he coming?
- Argh!
- Tell us!
- I can't. It's a secret.
Thursday?
Friday?
Saturday?
Sunday?
Aha!
I don't want anybody to know.
You won't tell anyone, will you?
I swear I won't. May I get
struck down by every disease
that it is known for a middle-aged
woman to suffer from.
And as you and I know,
that's a lot of diseases.
(Muffled gossip )
(Screams )
I think he's here, Ted.
The good news is, he can only afford
a crappy blue Cortina.
- Imagine going around in that thing!
- That's my car!
Oh, right.
Still, you know what I mean.
Mrs Doyle, he's here!
Is this the place?
What is it? A mental hospital?
No, it's a parochial house. The
winner is the priests' housekeeper.
- Better prepare the ground.
- So do I have to walk to the door?
- Yes.
- I have to walk to the door meself?
Yes, you have to walk
to the door yourself.
Mr McLove will not allow
any photographs
apart from one official picture
for advertising purposes
or sign autographs in ink.
Mr McLove is not
an equal opportunities employer.
(Mobile phone )
- Hello?
- 'Hello. Is Patsy there?'
Yes, Eoin, this is Patsy.
I'm in the hall. Will you let me in
or will I knock on the door or what?
Dougal, he's our guest.
- Let's do this for Mrs Doyle.
- Yeah, I know!
I'm Eoin McLove, that's who I am.
- Hello, you're very welcome.
- I'll leave you, then.
- I'll talk to these two.
- Yes.
What if the old one speaks
and I don't know what to say back?
I don't know!
And the thick-looking one?
He's weird.
Eoin!
I smell wee. Where's that from?
It's this one here.
This one smells of wee.
(Growling)
Best step away there.
So where's the winner
so I can go home for my tea?
Actually, you can have
your tea here. Mrs Doyle!
Hello.
Brilliant, she fell on her arse!
(Spooky music)
58...69...60.
Right. That's your 20 minutes up.
I'm off. Don't try to stop me.
Eoin, did you enjoy your tea?
What? Don't know. Yeah... Whatever.
I want to go. It's getting dark.
Are you afraid of the dark?
It's only because the sun goes...
There's this...
It's got something to do with clouds!
I want to get out.
How do you get out?
Eoin, was there another poem
that was very good this week?
No.
Are you sure?
The only other one
was from this lunatic.
We called the police
because it was so demented.
No, that couldn't be it.
I'll stop talking
because I don't know what to say.
Hello, is Patsy there?
Don't talk to me on the mobile,
I'm right beside you.
What?
This is a very bad line. Patsy...?
Oh, no! Not again.
(Old ladies ) Eoin! Eoin!
Ladies... Go on home now.
Nothing to see here.
Go away, you dirty old biddies.
Eoin!
I'm afraid we can't stay and chat.
I have a baptism tomorrow.
The baby has a very big head
and it may not fit in the font.
It's like a big tide of jam coming
at us but jam made out of old women.
I've got a bad feeing about this.
Let's get back in the house.
Go away!
I don't want to catch the menopause!
Let me in! Let me in! (Screaming)
Oh, God, that was close.
- Dougal!
- Hello!
- I don't mean hello, I mean help!
- Oh, right.
Aah! Actually, Dougal, that's my
hand. Try hitting the women's hands.
Ok, yes. Sorry, Ted.
(Patsy ) Hello? Hello?
The battery's dead.
What about your phone?
They've cut the lines.
They lie in wait like wolves.
The smell of blood in their nostrils.
Waiting. Interminably waiting.
And then...
He's right, Ted.
- What do they want?
- They just want to mother him.
He's got nobody to blame but himself.
When you've got album covers
like this,
you're just asking for trouble.
I'm no good at judging
the size of crowds,
but I'd say
there's about 17 million out there.
I'm hungry. Where's the jam?
You're not supposed to eat
before your dinner.
You shut up.
I'm Eoin McLove.
I can do what I like.
I've got a terrible secret.
- Do you?
- Yeah.
- What?
- Not telling.
Eoin!
- What?
- Don't eat the jam from the jar.
Leave me alone!
I can have you killed.
Get out!
I...I was just cleaning the spoon.
I can't stand it.
- Why are they so quiet?
- (Ted) Patsy!
What do you want? What do you want?!
Argh!
It's all right. She's one of us.
What? What? Yes...yes.
Eoin, Mrs Doyle wants to know,
would you like a cake?
Who?
- Mrs Doyle. This woman here.
- Oh, right.
(Whispering)
It's banana.
She knows it's your favourite.
God! I love that. I'll eat that.
No one else is getting any.
This is all for me.
What's going on?
(Whispering and laughter)
- Oh, my God.
- What's happening? I'm scared.
I don't know how to tell you this
but Mrs Doyle, in an unusual move,
has baked a jumper in the cake.
I'm going to get sick.
This is the worst thing that's ever
happened to me.
I'm not wearing a cake jumper!
This is horrible. Yuk!
(Sobs )
I'll eat the cake, though.
We have to get him out of here.
You know what we need?
Something to lead them away from him,
so he can escape.
Some kind of misleading event but...
what could it be?
I know! A diversion.
That's what it's called, a diversion.
I know what it's called.
I didn't ask what it's called.
I want to know
what the diversion should be.
Come on, come on, ideas, ideas.
(Rattling)
(Muttering)
Drink! Feck! Arse! Girls!
Yes. Thank you, Father Jack.
I think we need
more concrete ideas than that.
What do old women like?
Do you know what they really love?
A big game of bingo! Let's lure them
into some kind of giant bingo game!
Right. How would we do that?
We could print some bingo cards
on our printing press, then... Oh....
Yes, it's the lack of a printing
press that lets us down there.
Or bingo balls, or a microphone
or any bingo paraphernalia at all.
Damn! So near and yet so far.
(Banging on window )
What?
No! No way! Go on home! Shoo!
Oh, Father,
we just wanted to tell you
that was a brilliant Mass
you did last Sunday.
Oh, well, thank you. I was very happy
with the sermon, actually.
Oh, yes. How did it start again?
Let's see... "I think it
was the actor Nick Berry who said..."
Sorry, Father, we can't hear you
very well through the window.
Right.
"I think it was the actor
Nick Berry who said..."
Oh! There he is! He's asleep!
Isn't he lovely! Aah!
You're not interested in my sermon!
Why is the window open?
I can't hold them back! Get upstairs!
(Old ladies ) Eoin! Eoin! Eoin!
Eoin! Eoin!
Back!
God! What are we gonna do now?
(Chanting) Eoin, Eoin...
What are we going to do?
I'm not so worried for ourselves,
but the little ones.
They have their
whole lives ahead of them.
Eoin, Eoin...
(Cock crows )
Stop! Stop!
Ladies! It's after seven o'clock.
I think your husbands might be
wondering where their breakfasts are.
Mrs Doyle's right.
Remember last year, Mrs Dunne?
Your husband tried to wash a cup
and burnt the house down.
And Mrs Collins, when Mr Collins
tried to make the bed on his own...
and lost a leg.
Surely you can't let them
get through a day on their own?
Go on home.
(Spooky music)
Hup! Hup!
(All sigh)
Can I have this duck?
Right, we're off.
Did you have those cases
when you came?
No. They're yours.
I just liked a lot of stuff here,
so I thought I'd take it off with me.
Oh! That's very cheeky.
Well, I'm taking everything.
Come on, Patsy.
I'm sorry he's been so much trouble.
I think it has to do with
his problem.
Oh, you mentioned that earlier.
What is it?
I have no willy.
Right.
Don't you have something
to say to Mrs Doyle?
Er... Thanks for the cake jumper.
There's bloody cake bits
all over the place.
Father, you've been so kind.
Would you like to come up
to the show?
Father McGuire said
you're always trying to get on TV.
No, no... That's not true.
It is true. You're always trying
to get on television!
You said
it's your number one ambition.
Did I?
I might have said that.
Joking, probably.
Anyway, I actually
couldn't be bothered.
There's a new part in the show - we
get an audience member to do a quiz.
- There's a cash prize.
- I'll do it.
Father, you've got four out of five
right on your specialist subject,
William Shatner's Tek Wars.
So, if you get the general knowledge
question right,
the ?500 will be yours!
(Audience ) Oooh!
Oh, no!
People will think this is rigged.
John Paul II.
What was his name
before he became Pope?
Jim?
'Strange, short emissions,
'which the patient shouts out,
seemingly involuntarily.'
'Firk!'
'Arpse!'
Arse!
'Grals!'
Girls!
Dougal, there's nothing on.
Why don't you read a book?
Oh, right.
No, Dougal. Read a different book.
Actually, it's been a few minutes.
I'll see if there's
anything good on now.
Honestly, Dougal,
you've got to broaden your mind.
What are you reading, anyway?
Well, I'm re-reading it.
William Shatner, Tek Wars.
Oh, no! This eejit!
# My lovely Mayo Mammy
# So gentle and so wise
# Rocking on your rocking chair,
baking cakes and pies
# My lovely Mayo Mammy
# My lovely, lovely Mayo Mam
It's Eoin!
Father, isn't he lovely?
He's a brilliant dancer as well.
Ugh!
Now, it's time to announce the winner
of my fabulous poetry competition.
You wrote a poem about me,
and the prize is that I come to
the winner's house for a cup of tea.
God! Can you imagine that! Oh, God!
So, over I go to my poetry corner.
Ok, here it is. This week's winner.
"Eoin McLove is his name,
"Singing songs is his game,
"Someday, I will say hello,
and for a cup of tea, we will go."
(All) Aw!
And the winner is
Mrs O'Neill from kildare.
And it says here,
she's 110 years old!
(All) Ooh!
She also asks me what my favourite
things in the world are.
I'd have to say...
Well, jumpers and...
cakes.
Oh, no! What's this?
It's a little puppy
with a broken paw.
(All) Aw!
I'd better go home
and nurse it back to health.
Goodbye, everybody.
(All) Bye!
Hard luck, Mrs Doyle!
Maybe next time.
There's one of his songs
reminds me of the time my husband...
I've said too much.
I'll just go listen
to his latest album. He's brilliant!
Ha, women!
Where?
No, I mean... "Women!"
Oh, right, yeah. "Women!"
- Tscha!
- Tscha!
Can't live with 'em,
can't live without 'em!
Yeah! But there definitely
aren't any women in here?
No, you're fine.
Do you know what?
I could write a poem for that show.
Be honest, the poetry Mrs Doyle
writes will is bound to be hopeless!
What would you write about?
Ah, Dougal, inspiration
can come from so many places.
Argh!
No, no, Father Nolan
was in the gas explosion.
Punched a hole in his chest
the size of a football!
They identified
him with dental records!
- Poor Father Nolan!
- Yes, he's very low at the moment.
(Gasps )
(Gibbering) Oh, my God!
Eoin... Island!
Calm down, what was that again?
To Craggy Island... Read out my poem!
Your poem? Well, I wrote it
as a surprise. It was my poem.
No, no! It's mine!
I'm sorry, Mrs Doyle, I don't
think so. What's the first line?
"Eoin McLove has a happy face."
That's not my poem!
No, it's mine! Ha ha ha ha!
I'm hugely confused, Ted.
The only thing I can think of
that must have happened
is that Mrs Doyle's poem
was better than yours.
But that couldn't be, could it?
That your poem
was actually worse than Mrs Doyle's?
That just couldn't happen, could it?
Could it?
- When's he coming?
- Argh!
- Tell us!
- I can't. It's a secret.
Thursday?
Friday?
Saturday?
Sunday?
Aha!
I don't want anybody to know.
You won't tell anyone, will you?
I swear I won't. May I get
struck down by every disease
that it is known for a middle-aged
woman to suffer from.
And as you and I know,
that's a lot of diseases.
(Muffled gossip )
(Screams )
I think he's here, Ted.
The good news is, he can only afford
a crappy blue Cortina.
- Imagine going around in that thing!
- That's my car!
Oh, right.
Still, you know what I mean.
Mrs Doyle, he's here!
Is this the place?
What is it? A mental hospital?
No, it's a parochial house. The
winner is the priests' housekeeper.
- Better prepare the ground.
- So do I have to walk to the door?
- Yes.
- I have to walk to the door meself?
Yes, you have to walk
to the door yourself.
Mr McLove will not allow
any photographs
apart from one official picture
for advertising purposes
or sign autographs in ink.
Mr McLove is not
an equal opportunities employer.
(Mobile phone )
- Hello?
- 'Hello. Is Patsy there?'
Yes, Eoin, this is Patsy.
I'm in the hall. Will you let me in
or will I knock on the door or what?
Dougal, he's our guest.
- Let's do this for Mrs Doyle.
- Yeah, I know!
I'm Eoin McLove, that's who I am.
- Hello, you're very welcome.
- I'll leave you, then.
- I'll talk to these two.
- Yes.
What if the old one speaks
and I don't know what to say back?
I don't know!
And the thick-looking one?
He's weird.
Eoin!
I smell wee. Where's that from?
It's this one here.
This one smells of wee.
(Growling)
Best step away there.
So where's the winner
so I can go home for my tea?
Actually, you can have
your tea here. Mrs Doyle!
Hello.
Brilliant, she fell on her arse!
(Spooky music)
58...69...60.
Right. That's your 20 minutes up.
I'm off. Don't try to stop me.
Eoin, did you enjoy your tea?
What? Don't know. Yeah... Whatever.
I want to go. It's getting dark.
Are you afraid of the dark?
It's only because the sun goes...
There's this...
It's got something to do with clouds!
I want to get out.
How do you get out?
Eoin, was there another poem
that was very good this week?
No.
Are you sure?
The only other one
was from this lunatic.
We called the police
because it was so demented.
No, that couldn't be it.
I'll stop talking
because I don't know what to say.
Hello, is Patsy there?
Don't talk to me on the mobile,
I'm right beside you.
What?
This is a very bad line. Patsy...?
Oh, no! Not again.
(Old ladies ) Eoin! Eoin!
Ladies... Go on home now.
Nothing to see here.
Go away, you dirty old biddies.
Eoin!
I'm afraid we can't stay and chat.
I have a baptism tomorrow.
The baby has a very big head
and it may not fit in the font.
It's like a big tide of jam coming
at us but jam made out of old women.
I've got a bad feeing about this.
Let's get back in the house.
Go away!
I don't want to catch the menopause!
Let me in! Let me in! (Screaming)
Oh, God, that was close.
- Dougal!
- Hello!
- I don't mean hello, I mean help!
- Oh, right.
Aah! Actually, Dougal, that's my
hand. Try hitting the women's hands.
Ok, yes. Sorry, Ted.
(Patsy ) Hello? Hello?
The battery's dead.
What about your phone?
They've cut the lines.
They lie in wait like wolves.
The smell of blood in their nostrils.
Waiting. Interminably waiting.
And then...
He's right, Ted.
- What do they want?
- They just want to mother him.
He's got nobody to blame but himself.
When you've got album covers
like this,
you're just asking for trouble.
I'm no good at judging
the size of crowds,
but I'd say
there's about 17 million out there.
I'm hungry. Where's the jam?
You're not supposed to eat
before your dinner.
You shut up.
I'm Eoin McLove.
I can do what I like.
I've got a terrible secret.
- Do you?
- Yeah.
- What?
- Not telling.
Eoin!
- What?
- Don't eat the jam from the jar.
Leave me alone!
I can have you killed.
Get out!
I...I was just cleaning the spoon.
I can't stand it.
- Why are they so quiet?
- (Ted) Patsy!
What do you want? What do you want?!
Argh!
It's all right. She's one of us.
What? What? Yes...yes.
Eoin, Mrs Doyle wants to know,
would you like a cake?
Who?
- Mrs Doyle. This woman here.
- Oh, right.
(Whispering)
It's banana.
She knows it's your favourite.
God! I love that. I'll eat that.
No one else is getting any.
This is all for me.
What's going on?
(Whispering and laughter)
- Oh, my God.
- What's happening? I'm scared.
I don't know how to tell you this
but Mrs Doyle, in an unusual move,
has baked a jumper in the cake.
I'm going to get sick.
This is the worst thing that's ever
happened to me.
I'm not wearing a cake jumper!
This is horrible. Yuk!
(Sobs )
I'll eat the cake, though.
We have to get him out of here.
You know what we need?
Something to lead them away from him,
so he can escape.
Some kind of misleading event but...
what could it be?
I know! A diversion.
That's what it's called, a diversion.
I know what it's called.
I didn't ask what it's called.
I want to know
what the diversion should be.
Come on, come on, ideas, ideas.
(Rattling)
(Muttering)
Drink! Feck! Arse! Girls!
Yes. Thank you, Father Jack.
I think we need
more concrete ideas than that.
What do old women like?
Do you know what they really love?
A big game of bingo! Let's lure them
into some kind of giant bingo game!
Right. How would we do that?
We could print some bingo cards
on our printing press, then... Oh....
Yes, it's the lack of a printing
press that lets us down there.
Or bingo balls, or a microphone
or any bingo paraphernalia at all.
Damn! So near and yet so far.
(Banging on window )
What?
No! No way! Go on home! Shoo!
Oh, Father,
we just wanted to tell you
that was a brilliant Mass
you did last Sunday.
Oh, well, thank you. I was very happy
with the sermon, actually.
Oh, yes. How did it start again?
Let's see... "I think it
was the actor Nick Berry who said..."
Sorry, Father, we can't hear you
very well through the window.
Right.
"I think it was the actor
Nick Berry who said..."
Oh! There he is! He's asleep!
Isn't he lovely! Aah!
You're not interested in my sermon!
Why is the window open?
I can't hold them back! Get upstairs!
(Old ladies ) Eoin! Eoin! Eoin!
Eoin! Eoin!
Back!
God! What are we gonna do now?
(Chanting) Eoin, Eoin...
What are we going to do?
I'm not so worried for ourselves,
but the little ones.
They have their
whole lives ahead of them.
Eoin, Eoin...
(Cock crows )
Stop! Stop!
Ladies! It's after seven o'clock.
I think your husbands might be
wondering where their breakfasts are.
Mrs Doyle's right.
Remember last year, Mrs Dunne?
Your husband tried to wash a cup
and burnt the house down.
And Mrs Collins, when Mr Collins
tried to make the bed on his own...
and lost a leg.
Surely you can't let them
get through a day on their own?
Go on home.
(Spooky music)
Hup! Hup!
(All sigh)
Can I have this duck?
Right, we're off.
Did you have those cases
when you came?
No. They're yours.
I just liked a lot of stuff here,
so I thought I'd take it off with me.
Oh! That's very cheeky.
Well, I'm taking everything.
Come on, Patsy.
I'm sorry he's been so much trouble.
I think it has to do with
his problem.
Oh, you mentioned that earlier.
What is it?
I have no willy.
Right.
Don't you have something
to say to Mrs Doyle?
Er... Thanks for the cake jumper.
There's bloody cake bits
all over the place.
Father, you've been so kind.
Would you like to come up
to the show?
Father McGuire said
you're always trying to get on TV.
No, no... That's not true.
It is true. You're always trying
to get on television!
You said
it's your number one ambition.
Did I?
I might have said that.
Joking, probably.
Anyway, I actually
couldn't be bothered.
There's a new part in the show - we
get an audience member to do a quiz.
- There's a cash prize.
- I'll do it.
Father, you've got four out of five
right on your specialist subject,
William Shatner's Tek Wars.
So, if you get the general knowledge
question right,
the ?500 will be yours!
(Audience ) Oooh!
Oh, no!
People will think this is rigged.
John Paul II.
What was his name
before he became Pope?
Jim?