The Butcher Boy Page #2

Mrs. Brady's head needs tightening."

Francie. Francie, that's a good one.

Keeping the home fires burning, Francie?

The incredible Francie Brady.

Now, if you ladies will excuse me...

I must be off up to town

on toll-tax business.

Toll tax? I never heard of that, Francie.

What would that be?

It's invented by me.

But of course, Nugent won't pay it.

You might as well try to get

blood from stone.

- Nugent? Mrs. Nugent?

- Be it on her own head...

she'll not get by so easy the next time...

- Getting by? Getting by where, Francie?

On the footpath, where else?

There's no denying it, Francie,

you're a rare character.

I know.

It's a dud.

It's a dud from the day we got it.

A f***ing dud, Da, that's what it is.

I should have known better

than to trust the likes of Traynor.

He'll not sell me a dud television

and get away with it.

Work!

Be Christ, it'll not best me!

"Your father was a great man one time,"

they'd say.

Be Christ, a great musician.

He could have been someone.

Sure, hadn't he met Eddie Calvert?

"And who the f***

is Eddie Calvert?" I'd ask them.

Well, that's the end

of the cowboys, I guess.

Da, there's nothing but dry bread

in the house.

There's not even a rasher.

Are you deaf?

I guess it's all down to Francie now.

The incredible Francie Brady.

No more cowboys, Joe.

Cowboys, good luck.

Why not, Francie?

Da. He fixed the telly good and proper.

We won't be seeing John Wayne

around here again.

Hack at a bit of ice,

there, Francie, go on.

Hacking away, boys?

Hacking away, now, Father.

That's a cold one. Would you say

that's a cold one, young Brady?

I'd say it's the coldest yet.

- The coldest yet, he says.

- He does.

He does.

How's your father?

The best. Never better.

Good, good,

and your mother will be home soon?

She will. She'll be back

on the road by Christmas.

She has to get the cakes ready

for Uncle Alo's party.

Uncle Alo.

Now, this town should be proud of him.

Your mother told me about the great job

he has in London.

Aye, 10 men under him.

Well, I best be off.

I have the good Lord here

for Benny Maguire.

Good luck, now.

What does Benny Maguire

want with the good Lord?

I think he fell off his buckrake.

Them buckrakes are a curse.

Richard Kimble ponders his fate as he

looks at the world for the last time...

and sees only darkness.

But in that darkness,

fate moves its huge hand.

Go on, fugitive. Go on, run!

You're only a hoppity bastard,

one-armed man.

Yeah, hoppity bollocks.

- At least Richard Kimble has two arms.

- The Fugitive.

F***! It's the hoppity b*tch!

Now, if there's one thing

worse than a pig...

it's a bogman up from the country

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