The Butcher Boy Page #2

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

for the day to do the Christmas shopping.

We'd see them in the cafe with their caps

and their boots and their bony arses.

They called it dancing. It looked

more like wading through manure.

What's that dance

they're doing, Francie?

It's called the bogman tango, Joe.

The bogman tango?

Out with the backside, up with the nose.

Well, here's me face

and me arse is coming.

The incredible Joe Purcell,

ladies and gentlemen...

and his partner, Francie Brady.

The bogman tango.

- Francie!

- Ma! Hi, Ma!

Look at you, God!

Ma, by cripes,

that must be some garage, sergeant.

- Back on the road, better than ever, Ma?

- Better than ever.

Come on, I've got something

to show you. Come on, now.

Thank you, sergeant, for taking me home.

Anything we can do for you, Annie.

You know that.

Thank you.

Come on, Ma. Come on.

I've got a surprise for us.

Back from the garage,

there was no holding Ma.

Whiz here one minute, there the next, and

hadn't she bought the bogman record...

they were playing in the cafe,

and that's when the buns began.

Uncle Alo was coming home for Christmas

from his big job in London...

and the house started filling up with

cakes and buns for the Christmas party.

Cakes, cakes, cakes.

Buns, buns, buns.

My ma, the bun woman.

I ask you, Joe,

how many cakes can Uncle Alo eat?

Beats the hell out of me, compadre.

I see what you mean.

- See you, Joe.

- See you, Francie.

Well, if I heard that "Butcher Boy" once,

I heard it a hundred times.

And if she said to me,

"Would you like to hear it again?"...

I know what I would have said:

"No, thank you."

I couldn't even get a ham sandwich!

I'm f***ing starving!

Is that what they do to you

in the garage, Ma?

Turn you into a cake machine?

Alo loves cakes.

If it's one thing your uncle loves,

it's cake.

And butterfly buns.

You're right. I'll make some more.

The men. Hard at it.

- Hard at it, he says.

- He does.

I don't suppose there's room

for an old fellow like myself?

Sure, any amount, Father.

So nothing strange, anyway, lads?

I tell you, if Uncle Alo doesn't

come soon, the house is gonna burst.

How's it going to burst, Francie?

With cakes.

Not to mention butterfly buns.

Oh, nothing but the best for Uncle Alo.

Coming all the way

from his job in London.

Ten men under him.

Ten men under him.

Uncle Alo! F***!

- Merry Christmas, Father.

- God bless you, now.

- See you, Joe.

- See you, Francie.

Aye. I don't know

what they must've thought of us.

A right-looking tribe

to be landing in Bundoran.

Not to mention this man here.

Wasn't he the star of the show?

Playing the trumpet every night

for them below in the parlor.

- Am I right, Annie?

- Oh, that's right, surely, Alo.

I heard, now, I heard all about it.

Isn't that right, Charlie?

Oh, indeed it is.

The sun shone out of Benny Brady

for Mrs. Thompson.

The lovebirds, she used to call them.

- Aye, the lovebirds. The bucking lovebirds.

- Alo.

Aye, and he played the trumpet

every night of the honeymoon.

Isn't that right, Benny?

Well, I daresay I played a few

wee tunes, all right.

Indeed you did, and that's not all.

Would I be right, Charlie?

You're right, all right.

Look at this here, girls, look.

Bold Benny, myself and Annie

were going along the beach.

- God.

- And comes out this fellow. "Two and six."

"Two and six," says the man, "and you

can be king of the jungle."

Well, I tell you, girls,

you've never seen the like of it.

Benny here with his head stuck out

through the cardboard hole...

and the body of Tarzan on him.

And he was shouting,

"I'll get you, McGlone," he says.

- "I'll get you!"

- "I'll get you, McGlone."

"I'll get you!"

Is that true, Da?

You in the Tarzan's body?

Some Tarzan now.

Some Jane.

Oh, man. It was the best holiday

May and me ever spent, do you know that?

And for you pair of tricksters

to come along on your honeymoon.

Will you ever forget it, Benny?

- Oh, no.

- Tarzan Brady. God, you're an awful man.

"Me Tarzan, you Jane," was it?

Come on, we'll sing.

- And what?

- "Beautiful Bundoran."

Bundoran, right.

Thank you.

- Take two.

- Good night, now.

Another wee drop before we go.

The night is young yet, eh, Benny?

Well, man, dear every time I think of it.

The pair of you standing there

with your heads sticking out the holes.

- Tarzan and Jane bucking Brady.

- Shut up about it. Shut up about it, now.

Sure, Benny. I'm only codding.

A bit of a song?

- There's been enough singing.

- Whatever happened to Joe Reilly? Do...?

- Who do you think you're fooling, Alo?

- Joe was a rare character.

Look at him with his wee red hankie.

Did the wife iron it for you?

- Benny, don't let it happen again.

- I warned him!

Carrying on with Mary

like some schoolboy halfwit.

Hadn't the guts to ask her to marry him.

Married Winnie!

It was a grand party, but to tell

you the truth, I was getting tired.

Singing's all right, singing's grand,

but five "Beautiful Bundorans "...

is enough for me,

not to mention two "Old Bogroads "...

and one

"Never Do a Tango With an Eskimo."

Don't blame it on him. Don't blame Alo

because you were put in a home!

Jesus, Benny, let it end.

- Ahem, excuse me.

- Well, I best be off soon.

Yes, it's me, Francie,

I do believe I should be off...

to Slumberdown Mansions,

if you please.

I've had rather a long day,

begging your pardon.

But might as well be talking to the wall as

trying to tell them it was time for bed.

May the curse of Christ

light upon you, you b*tch!

The day I took you out of that

hole of a shop in Derry...

was a bitter one for me.

Sick of him! Sick of him!

I'm sick of him!

- Please tell me again, I want to hear this...

- Follow you...

Yes, I do believe

I shall be off on my travels.

"Excuse me, did you happen

to see Mr. Francis Brady, by any chance?"

"I'm sorry, old bean,

but I really wouldn't know.

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