He has a maid, a cook.
I'm stuck in a two-up-two-down, with a fat Kerry man who drones on and on about Gaelic football.
- Can we stop talking about this?
- Jesus, you're the one who's talking.
- How's your smoke going?
- Grand.
Hmm.
Filthy habit.
Disgusting.
Oh, aye, awful.
Lovely, though.
Aye.
Praise the Lord.
- 28...
My God!
- Oh, stop it.
So what happened to your eye, Bobby?
What?
- Get a dig?
Your eye?
- Difference of opinion.
- Hmm.
How's the other fella?
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