A special chance to catch up with Northern Ireland's most famous dysfunctional family.
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# With your bombs and your bullets and your goings-on
# I'm right, you're wrong
# Two-minute warning It won't be long
# You can stay, but I'll be gone
# Oh, marching season marching songs
# Beating drums all summer long
# Sun is out, weather's fine
# Balaclavas on the line
# She says that I says
# Why don't you give my head some...
# She says that I says
# Why don't you give my head some peace? #
# I'm just an old-fashioned girl with an old-fashioned mind
# Not sophisticated I'm the plain and simple kind
# I want an old-fashioned house with an old-fashioned fence
# And an old-fashioned millionaire
# I like music by Bizet... #
Oh, yous are back, are yous?
We didn't go away, you know.
It is all change now in 2016.
The women have taken over.
Theresa May - Prime Minister.
Arlene Foster - First Minister.
Well, I got new curtains.
For the last time, I do not have Jamie Bryson's mobile number!
Here, you. How do you delete contacts on this?
But he's still the same.
Oh, talking to yourself now, are you?
That's great. That'll help me get you committed.
I would love to be committed.
It would get me away from you for a while.
Will you stop cleaning things?
Will you stop that?!
Listen, Ma. I've actually got some very bad news.
If this is about you not having long to live, don't worry, I can cope.
No, but it's not about that. It's about our son, Cal.
I'm going to have to sack him.
Cal has a job?
I've never seen him doing a day's work in his life.
Well, it's up at the Assembly. Nobody does a day's work up there.
Cal is my Spad. Sorry - was.
He can't be my political adviser any more.
-Oh, new Sinn Fein rules. No more jobs for the boys.
When he says "the boys", he means the Ra.
Anyway, they're making me take this new political adviser.
Joe something or other. DOOR OPENS
Hello, Da. Oh, sorry, but you left your iPad in the car.
Was I supposed to see this photograph?
I think it was meant for your doctor, yes?
I think, love, he's Photoshopped that!
Well, thanks for bringing it back, Jo.
This is Jo?
Yes, I am Da's new Spad.
He's told me all about you.
Has he now?
Anyway, Jo has a lot on...
Yes, he told me you were his cleaning lady.
Ah, you're right, everything above four foot nine is filthy.
Well, thanks for popping by, Jo.
See you back at the office.
-How did you get a Spad from Poland?
It's a Sinn Fein thing.
We are anti-Brexit, showing European solidarity.
Well, I'm sure she doesn't want anything to do with your...
Excuse me, Jo is highly experienced.
She used to be Gerry Kelly's Spad.
-Mrs Kelly saw her.
And you are giving her Cal's job?
How could you do that to my son?
Cal, my favourite child!
The boy who makes me so proud!
Listen, don't be using the bog for a couple of days.
I left a floater in there and it's going nowhere fast.
BOTH: # Your defence is terrified
# Will Grigg's on fire
# Your defence is terrified... #
Yes, Pastor Begbie,
it's the new Northern Ireland
and Will Grigg is on fire.
And it's not because of a petrol bomb.
You're a Loyalist community worker
who is actually doing some work in the Loyalist community.
Indeed. Poor wee Mrs Bell needed her house painted, couldn't afford it,
but we did it for her.
Yeah, but to be fair now,
I think she wanted her front room done magnolia,
rather than have "UVF, No Surrender" painted above her mantelpiece.
Sure she was that happy, she gave us 200 quid.
Aye, that's only because you threatened to have next year's boney
stuck outside her front door.
Oh, here, Pastor Begbie,
I want a word with you about that mural you painted last week.
Not with you.
The big painting on the gable wall.
Oh, the Muriel.
-All right, Muriel.
-Why didn't you say that in the first place?
Big peeler and all, and you can't even speak the Queen's English!
What's the matter with the Muriel?
Well, apparently you got an EU grant to create a public work of art
that would move away from paramilitary images
-and promote peace.
-Yes that's right, and we did that there.
No, no, no, no. Your mura... Your Muriel is sectarian.
No, it is not. It is dedicated to the great East Belfast writer
CS Lewis, it is The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe.
And you tell me what is sectarian
about The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe?
Well, the lion's wearing a sash,
the witch looks like Gerry Adams,
and the wardrobe says,
"You are now entering Protestant Narnia, Taigs beware!"
I know. Brilliant, isn't it?
What is that noise?
-She's not auditioning for The X Factor again, is she?
She's still upset at Bake Off going to Channel 4!
No, but it's her bake she's squealing about.
Oh, she's got this awful toothache.
-She is in agony.
-Personally, I don't mind the sound.
Always nice to hear a Catholic in pain.
You know, I would send her to the dentist, you know,
but I'm skint and it's all your lot's fault.
What are talking about?
Well, 2016 was pathetic!
You know? Call that a marching season?
There were no stand-offs, no confrontations, no riots.
And Twaddell Avenue, it's been settled.
I got no overtime at all.
All I got were the words every peeler hates to hear.
-"Passed off peacefully."
Fer feck's sake!
I'm getting me European Union money grant taken off me.
-Because we voted for Brexit.
I can't believe you guys voted for Brexit.
Of course you did. I am a Unionist.
So I wanted out of that union as quick as possible.
I wanted freedom, I wanted independence,
so I voted Brexit.
Oh, look. Me Irish passport's arrived!
You lucky duck. How did you get yours before I got mine?
I got Da to sign me application form.
Always quicker with a Shinner.
So hang on a second. You lot got Irish passports?
Of course! When I go to Spain,
I don't want them to muck about with my brew.
What's Spanish for DLA?
So, you voted for Brexit and you were getting EU grants. Smart!
Arlene said it would be all right.
Anyway, I'm not worried. I'm going to have to get a job.
There's no need for that kind of talk.
What's wrong with getting a job?
That's what happened to Big Mervyn.
He got a job.
And now look at him.
Last I heard, he was in London,
-running a very successful technology business.
He's a disgrace!
He's turned his back on his Protestant roots!
He's dead to me.
I never want to hear of Mervyn
or see Mervyn ever again in my entire life.
Andrew, I'm back!
EASTENDERS THEME PLAYS
It is no use.
I still can't shift it.
I can't believe you're sacking me, on today of all days.
It's my birthday!
-It's your birthday?
-Of course it's my birthday!
Did you not even get me a cake?
Listen, son, I tried to get you a cake.
-Yes. I went into Ashers, right?
And I says, "I want a cake with green, white and orange icing,
"and the words,
"'Happy 100th birthday, Easter Rising, Brits out.'"
Tell you what, they're awful sensitive in there.
And I'll bet you didn't even get me a present neither.
-Aye, I did.
-Well, what did you get him?
I got him... I got...
I got you three scratchcards.
You didn't win anything, by the way.
Oh, I'm sick of this. You've ruined my life, you have.
-You made me join the Republican movement.
For years, I dedicated my life to the Republican struggle,
and what did we achieve?
The A5 to Derry?
Hardly a united Ireland, is it?
Ah, come on, nobody wants a united Ireland. You wouldn't want to be
stuck with all them Southerners. You couldn't stand them.
And when I had a chance of happiness with Tina, you ruined that, too.
I was only thinking of you, son.
What are you doing with your clothes on?
Well, it's only our first date.
No, there's a blanket man protest at The Busy Bee.
Come on! Let's go! Now!
In fairness to your da, son, you and Tina were never going to work out.
-She was good-looking.
-You're as bad as he is.
I am not as bad as him. I am not the one who told Christine Bleakley
to clear away off whenever she took a shine to you.
Wait, what? Christine Bleakley fancied me?
Christine Lampard now, son.
She married Frank, the multimillionaire footballer,
has houses in London, Los Angeles, New York.
And Newtownards. Christine insisted on it.
Christine Bleakley fancied ME?
She used to climb up the outside of the flats,
just to get a wee look at you in through your bedroom window.
He had to take a hosepipe to her and he told her to clear away off
and she'd never make anything of herself.
And I was right.
Did you see Dancing On Ice?
And when her and Frank...
get it on...
she screams your name.
Frank gets very upset.
That's it! I'm finished with this family!
I'm going to make a brand-new life for myself.
Are you running away from home, son?
-Well, you're in your 40s, it's a bit late for that.
Yous two will never, ever see me, ever, ever again.
You couldn't lend us a couple of quid for the bus?
Billy, did you get me a dentist like you promised?
Look, I've spoken to this guy in Newry
and he can see you in six weeks.
Am I going to have to use the hair straighteners on you again?
I'll sort it out! I'll sort it out!
Oh, Mervyn, it's great to see you!
Ah, you see what I mean?
You spend a mere nine years in London and the next thing you know,
mwah, mwah, you're hugging Fenians!
For goodness' sake, Andy, listen to yourself.
Sectarianism is so last century.
It's time for to move on.
In London, we embrace diversity.
In London, the lampposts don't even have flags on them.
Are they mad?
I mean, how do they know if they're in a Protestant or a Catholic area?
Nobody cares. It's London!
Oh, London! London! London, London!
Shut up about London!
I never want to hear the word London ever again!
Except for when you go to Derry.
So, here, Mervyn, how long are you staying?
Just the one night, Dympna.
I have a meeting with the development people
from Microsoft and the Google, first thing in the morning.
Oh, don't tell me, it's in London!
No, actually, it's in Derry.
I just came back here to see what I wasn't missing.
My life has moved on, Andy.
I'm just sad that yours hasn't.
No, Mervyn, you can't go like this. Stay and have a wee drink with us.
Thank you, Billy, but no. I have given up the drink.
Alcohol and Loyalism is not a good combination.
Billy's right, Mervyn.
Have one tinny with us, for old times' sake.
No, thank you, I won't.
Oh, come on, Mervyn.
It's just one wee tin of beer.
Well, all right!
I mean, what harm can one wee tin of beer do?
I don't think he's going to make
that meeting in Derry.
I've got the flag back flying up on City Hall!
The best bit is he doesn't even know
today's a designated day!
Hey, Belfast! The future's bright cos the future is orange!
Do you see that? That is a disgrace.
That is nothing but a provocative sectarian display designed to offend
the Nationalist people. And what is the PSNI doing about it?
Nothing! I demand that you go up there and take that flag down
I can't do anything unless there's a breach of the peace.
-No, there's not.
Mervyn is just loudly and proudly
expressing his sacred British culture.
-Oh, Dympna, Cal has been missing for a full week.
Oh, don't be worrying.
Sure, he's probably got lost playing Pokemon Go.
No, he has vanished.
Here, your Billy's a cop. What's he doing about it?
Probably playing Pokemon Go, too.
Sure, Billy's useless.
Couldn't even get a dentist for his long-suffering wife.
Your da has ruined everything.
He ruined Cal's life.
He's ruined my life.
Why don't you divorce him?
I'm Catholic. It's not allowed.
I would slit his throat whenever he was asleep,
only it would ruin the new duvet.
Well, so, what are you going to do?
I'm going to change religion.
My mind is completely open.
I could become a...
a Hindu, a Buddhist, a Scientologist.
Or a Protestant.
I'm not that desperate!
And anyway, I've actually made up my mind.
I found this lovely fella online.
Jihadi Mickey, you call him.
Yeah, he wants me to become a Muslim and go to the Middle East
-and marry him.
-Ma, the Middle East is full of terrorism
and civil wars, air strikes.
Aye, but I would be getting away from your da for a while.
I wonder, is Jihadi Mickey good-looking?
Do you not know?
No, well, you see, he always has had his balaclava on.
And I do not want to make the same mistake I made 40 years ago.
-That's it, back away. Back away.
-In you go.
To me. Watch it. Watch it.
Oh, I am knackered!
Pastor Begbie, you can't have joined in and helped us?
No, no, no, yous two are the manual labour, I'm the management.
We've been carrying this thing for miles!
It was your fault. You shouldn't have got us thrown off the bus.
I didn't like that bus anyway.
All the passengers was giving us funny looks.
Especially when the body fell out of the coffin.
Ooh, the screams of them women,
you'd think they'd never seen a dead body before.
Well, they have, just not on the top deck of the 42A
going up the Newtownards Road.
Oh, God, if there wasn't somebody in that coffin already,
I'd jump in there myself for a wee lie-down.
Here, Pastor Begbie, why did you become an undertaker?
I had to get a new job, and anyway, sure, I'm a natural at this here.
Sure, I've been at funerals for half of my life.
But, like, did you have to open your funeral parlour in my front room?
I wasn't going to open it in mine. Dead bodies give me the willies.
who's in there?
Lenny Fat Boy Lennox.
Is that why the bucking thing's so heavy?
-What killed that boy there was a frying pan.
All that cholesterol clogging up the arteries.
No, somebody whacked him over the head with a frying pan.
Sconed him over the head with a frying pan
and then, cool as you like, went and made himself an omelette
and then just disappeared into the middle of the night.
-You mean there's a murderer amongst us?
-It's East Belfast, Andy.
There's dozens of them.
-Billy, what about ye?
-What the hell's that doing there?
What doing where?
Why is there a coffin on my dining room table?
Well, we couldn't leave him on the floor.
Have a bit of respect for the dead, Billy.
Do you mean there's a body in there?
What's he doing in there?
Well, not much, Billy.
Yes, Billy, these are the last remains of...
Lenny The Fat Boy Lennox.
Oh, here, I'm investigating his murder.
-Have you made any progress?
-Oh, aye, me and the lads down the station
have come up with a great nickname. The Frying Pan Killer.
Here, nobody knows this but, apparently,
after he brained Fat Boy,
the killer sat down and made himself a cheese and onion omelette.
That's right. With mushrooms.
Ma! I searched the Armalite and ballot box again,
still no sign of Cal.
What the hell are you wearing that for?
I have converted to Islam.
This is my burkini.
Well, if you were going to become a Muslim,
why didn't you wear the full burka?
Then I wouldn't have to look at your face.
I am going for a swim.
Aye, well, you'll not get into the Andytown Leisure Centre
looking like that.
Did you know, in France, the burkini is banned?
And in Millisle, it is compulsory.
I have just been talking online to my new boyfriend,
He's in Damascus.
No, he's in Damascus Street off the Ormeau Road, love.
It's the internet, his real name's probably Mickey Muldoon.
What the hell are you doing now?
I'm taking a selfie for Mickey.
He wants to see if I'm a virgin.
Are you sure about this?
This is the only religion that I could be a swimwear model.
I'm back, and guess what?
You're a priest!
Yeah, how did you know?
Oh, oh, my son a priest!
It is a miracle!
Oh, thank you, God!
Wait a minute. I thought you were becoming a Muslim?
Ah, forget about that. Get me my rosary beads.
Wise up, he's not a priest.
You have to study for years to become a priest.
Not no more, you don't.
They're so desperate for priests now,
all you have to do is fill in the application form,
convince them you're not a Prod and give them a tenner.
Makes sense, you being a priest.
I mean, let's be honest,
celibacy's never been an issue for you, has it, son?
Now I can devote my life entirely to God.
We've got the male version of Martina Purdy.
This is so holy!
I am surrounded by an atmosphere of spirituality and holiness!
Here, can you get me an annulment?
Well, I can try. What's your grounds?
I must have been mad to marry him.
I'm afraid we're going to need a wee bit more to go on than that, Ma.
He's an ugly, bearded bastard?
-Billy! Where's the dentist?
He's coming here now. He'll be here in a minute.
He's coming here?
Aye, I bumped into Red Hand Luke,
and he knew this great dentist who's dirt cheap.
He's coming here right now.
Oh, God, you hear that?
I'm looking forward to going to work.
SHE CONTINUES WAILING
Ah, will you shut up?
You're a bigger screamer than Jamie Bryson!
All right, Andy!
All right, Luke.
Now is not a convenient time,
we're waiting for the dentist.
Red Hand Luke?
You're a dentist?
Oh, aye. Send her down.
You can't just operate on somebody, you need qualifications.
I studied dentistry for years in the jail.
I must say, that's very forward thinking
of the prison authorities, like,
to provide training so that inmates can get a job or a profession
on the outside.
Yeah, well, now, my training would be a little less formal than that.
I mean, I mainly practised on cheeky screws, touts,
and people that took too many turns on the pool table!
Well, if it's all the same to you, I'll not hang around for this.
Yes, you will.
I'm going to need you for to hold her down.
Oh, thank God you're here!
My tooth is agony, pure agony!
Have a seat, madam.
I can promise you this will all be over in a few minutes.
Oh, please, just take the pain away!
Don't worry, you're not going to feel a thing.
Now, which tooth is it?
Oh, I'm not sure.
You see, it's sore all up here.
I think we'll take them all out, just for safety.
I'm just going to start off with a little bit of drilling.
Oh, God, I hate that sound.
Still, I suppose it sounds worse than it feels, eh?
No, actually, it doesn't.
Right, I think we're good to go here.
Are you not going to use an anaesthetic?
I always forget that bit.
So what do you normally use, injections or gas?
It's more of a general anaesthetic.
Right! Head back, love, just relax and count backwards from five.
Your voice sounds awful familiar.
Three... Ooh, if I need a filling, do you use mercury or quartz?
Andrew, are you all right?
Look what you have done, you silly cow.
You've killed Andrew.
Just forgot my...
What's going on here?
You got Red Hand Luke to be my dentist!
Never mind all of that.
She just killed Andrew!
If I were you, I'd get that wiped for prints.
Och, it wasn't me, you dough-brain, it was Luke.
Luke's the frying pan killer!
You're under arrest, Luke.
You, you'll never take me alive.
-Don't make me shoot you, Luke.
you'll never be alive to take me...
..cos I am never going back to the jail.
Oh, my God, Billy, look at Uncle Andy,
he's turning blue!
You'll have to do the kiss of life.
No, it'll be all right.
Oh, for God's sake.
He's definitely still alive, Billy.
Well, how do you know?
He poked my tooth out with his tongue.
It is wonderful having a son a priest.
It is the best thing that's ever happened to me.
My life has been a trail of tears,
a life of misery and torture,
like a never-ending Stephen Nolan Show.
And my son a priest.
Life is worth living again.
Ma, I've got something to tell you.
Oh, my beautiful, wonderful boy.
I'm not a priest no more.
You stupid wee shite!
You are nothing but an embarrassment.
The day you were born I should have left you exposed
on the top of Black Mountain, like the doctor said.
No, no, Ma, you see, I'm not a priest no more because...
-..I'm a bishop.
A bishop! My son is a bishop!
Oh, Your Holiness, Your Worshipful,
Your... Mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah.
There is a bishop in the house.
Come in and kiss his ring.
Kiss his what?
Wise up, he's not a bishop.
It takes years and years to become a bishop.
Aye, well, Pat Buckley made me one at lunchtime, so there.
Can I have a word with you, Father Cal?
I think you'll find it is Bishop Cal.
Here, you have to take me to the bingo.
Well, Loretta McBride will be there
and she is always going on about her kids.
"Oh, my Seamy passed the eleven-plus.
"Brandy, he's got a job in Tesco's."
Wait till I tell her that my son is a bucking bishop.
She'll not know where to look.
-Here, come on.
-Oh, for God's sake.
-So, you're a bishop now?
-Oh, that makes things even more awkward.
Cal, will you marry me?
-I know it's a big thing to ask.
I mean, you're a bishop
and we haven't seen each other for years,
and then I just turn up out of the blue
asking you to risk everything for me.
I'll understand if you say no.
You don't have to tell me now.
Sleep on it.
I'll come back tomorrow and you can tell me then, OK?
-Another frying pan killing.
You know he's up to 13 victims now.
No, no, no, it's 11.
I think you'll find there's been another two
since the PSNI have been sitting on their arse.
According to the papers,
there was a spate of these frying pan killings a while back
and then, suddenly, it stopped about nine years ago.
Nine years ago?
That's when I went to London.
And then, inexplicably, they started up about two weeks ago.
-That's when I came back.
What a coincidence!
Billy, Billy, Billy, Billy, Billy, Billy, Billy, Billy.
-It's Big Mervyn.
-The frying pan killer.
What about the frying pan killer?
Oh, God, now I know why the PSNI cannot catch Jamie Dornan
in The Fall.
It's Big Mervyn, he's the frying pan killer.
Wise up, he's no motive.
Really? Wait till you hear this.
And his latest victim is wee Sandy Beadie.
Aye? I always hated Sandy Beadie.
He used to bully me at school, saying I was as thick as chump.
Well, he'll not be saying that any more now, will he?
Not with his head stoved in with the frying pan.
What are yous all looking at me like that for?
Mervyn, you're under...
Oh, where is it?
Oh, thanks. You're under arrest.
Help me to choose between right and wrong.
Do I stay with the Church?
Or marry Tina?
Stay with the Church...
..or marry Tina?
Sorry, Tina. He's been like this for ages.
He is thinking holy thoughts.
Yes, Tina, I will marry you.
I can't tell you how happy you've made me.
And I can't tell you how happy you've made me.
And Siobhan will be delighted.
And Siobhan will be...
Wait a minute, who the frig's Siobhan?
Uh, you're marrying us.
You're marrying... Siobhan?
Och, I know, same-sex marriages are against Church teaching,
but it's 2016.
It'll be legal here soon and I trusted you, Cal.
I knew you'd help us out.
Say something, Cal.
Frying pan killer, Big Mervin,
I mean, it's inconceivable.
You see, the murderer's left no evidence,
he's baffled police and he's clearly...an evil genius,
whereas Mervin is just as thick as a brick.
You just never know what some people do, Andy.
See, being around all this death, too, is making me terribly hungry.
Have you anything in your kitchen?
Oh, aye, work away.
Here, strange thing about all these frying pan murders...
Well, every one of the victims was known to you.
Lucky for them to have me as a mate.
And every one of them was found in their own homes, like,
but there was no sign of forced entry.
You'd think they knew who their attacker was.
Here, and you ended up doing all of the funerals.
And a couple of times, like,
you were at the scene of the crime even before the peelers arrived.
Yeah, you know what they say, Andy, the early bird catches the worm.
Pastor Begbie, I've been thinking.
I warned you about that before.
You're going to give yourself a sore head.
I'm not interrupting, am I?
Billy! Billy, Billy, arrest him, he's the frying pan killer!
He's the frying pan killer.
Well, he can't be, it's Big Mervin.
No, it's not, it's him.
Why do you reckon that?
Because he's a psychopath,
and he's got a bloody big frying pan in his hand.
Shoot him, Billy, shoot to kill.
I can't shoot him, he's unarmed.
Don't worry, you're a cop, you can cover it up later.
Shoot him, Billy, and then Taser him to make sure he's dead.
PASTOR BEGBIE CHUCKLES
Here, what's so funny?
You think that I'm the frying pan killer?
He is, Billy, he is.
He crept up behind me with that big frying pan in his hand.
Yes, to see if you wanted
some fish fingers.
Fish fingers, Andy, that proves he can't be the frying pan killer.
Well, how's that?
Well, the frying pan killer doesn't make fish fingers,
he always makes an omelette.
I think I may have made a wee bit of a faux pas.
I'm so sorry, Pastor Begbie.
I hope I didn't offend you
by calling you a psychotic, blood-soaked maniac.
Don't worry about it. Sure, I get that all the time.
So, would you like some fish fingers?
Yes, thank you.
That's great, because you're completely out of eggs.
Are you definitely staying a bishop this time?
I've had my brush with temptation
and I've made my decision and I'm going to stick by it.
I've left Frank.
I cannot live without you.
Will you marry me?
CHEERING AND APPLAUSE
# She says that I says
# Why don't you give my head some...
# She says that I says
# Why don't you give my head some peace?
# Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up
# Give my head some peace
-# Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up
-Give my head some peace! #
A special chance to catch up with Northern Ireland's most famous dysfunctional family.