Derry Girls

Erin: I won’t put up with it anymore. Teenagers have rights now, you know. Mary Quinn: Don’t be ridiculous. Erin: They do, Ma. It’s true. Sure, Macaulay Culkin might be divorcing his parents. Mary Quinn: Do you hear this? This’ll be someone she met at that stupid summer scheme you insisted we send her on. Her bloody “Friends Across the Barricades” thing. I have nothing against Protestants, I’m all for integration, I am, but if they’re letting their weans divorce them… Erin: Macaulay Culkin isn’t a Protestant, Ma. Mary Quinn: It’s only gonna give our weans ideas. Erin: Well, he might be. I didn’t meet him at Friends Across the Barricades. Mary Quinn: I don’t care where you met him. You’re not to see him again. Understood? Granda Joe: Them weans shouldn’t have to take the bus to school. You should be driving them, you useless shite. Gerry Quinn: I have to work, Joe. Granda Joe: Work? (chuckles) Is that what you call it? Gerry Quinn: Yes. Granda Joe: Why don’t you just leave my Mary alone

Derry Girls, CC BY-SA 4.0

Sister Michael: On Monday morning, several of our Year 13s will face their GCSE maths resit. Now, I know how daunting resit examinations can be, so if anyone is feeling anxious or worried, or even if you just want to chat, please, please, do not come crying to me. Gerry Quinn: Okay, that is one portion of redfish, one portion of whitefish, two bags of chips – Granda Joe: No, no, no! Two bags won’t be enough. Gerry Quinn: Two’s plenty, Joe. Granda Joe: Four! Four should cover it. Gerry Quinn: Three, then. We’ll compromise. Granda Joe: I’ll compromise you through that window. Mary Quinn: That’s enough, Da. Granda Joe: The tight bastard’s trying to starve us all, Mary! Erin: Any luck with the trust fund? Clare: No. According to my mam, we’re actually quite poor. Erin: Aye, I think we might be as well. Uncle Colm: There was a knock at the door, this must have been, ach, we’re talking eight, half eight, for I was halfway through me dinner. And up I got to open it, and there they both were,

Derry Girls, CC BY-SA 4.0

Clare: Sweet suffering Jesus. It’s the morning already?! What are we gonna do? Michelle: Well maybe we could start with calming the fuck down. Clare: Calm down? We’re still on William of Orange, Michelle! We haven’t so much looked at the famine! Michelle: We’ve got the gist. They ran out of spuds. Everyone was raging. James: Well, I can’t tell my rebellions from my risings. Michelle: And whose fault’s that? If your lot had stopped invading us for five fucking minutes, there’d be a lot less to wade through! You English prick. Erin: It’s abuse. That’s what it is. It’s abusive. Does anybody have 10p? I’m ringing Childline. Michelle: You can’t ring Childline every time your ma threatens to kill you, Erin. Clare: Yeah, you can’t waste Esther’s time like that. Michelle: And anyway, you’re not alone We’re all gonna fail. We’re all gonna get our holes kicked, and we’re all in the same boat. Clare: I don’t wanna be in that boat! I wanna be in a different boat, sailing down a totally different r

Derry Girls, CC BY-SA 4.0

Erin: It’s class, isn’t it? Katya: Hmm. It’s much how I imagine. Erin: Oh, because of my letters? Well, descriptive narrative has always been a strong point-- Katya: No, not your letters. I see on news. Erin: What do you mean, you’ve seen on news? You don’t have news in the Ukraine. You don’t have televisions. Katya: Yes, we do. Erin: No, you don’t. Katya: We do. Erin: Really? Katya: Of course. Mary Quinn: Erin, stop hogging the Russian. Gerry Quinn: Yeah, come on, Erin. Give Orla a go. Erin: She’s Ukrainian, actually. Aunt Sarah: Yeah, go on, love. Say something to Katya. Orla: You name sounds a bit like “cat”. Aunt Sarah: God, aye, so it does. Granda Joe: You don’t know a Jack McGinley, do you? Moved to Moscow, ‘88, ‘89, it would have been. Erin: Seriously? Katya: No. Granda Joe: Stocky fella. Katya: No. Granda Joe: Curly hair, bit of a lisp. Katya: I do not know this person. Granda Joe: Ah, maybe just as well, love. He’s an awful prick. Erin: So, Katya, I’ve done a bit of an itinera

Derry Girls, CC BY-SA 4.0

Mary Quinn: Already? They’ve started already? Gerry Quinn: I think it’s just a rehearsal, love. Mary Quinn: They’ve been playing the same three songs since 1795. What do they need to rehearse for? Orla: Well, practice makes perfect, Aunt Mary. You know, that is why they are so cracker. Erin: I’m sorry? Did you just call the Orange Order “cracker?” Orla: I’m considering joining. Erin: I don’t think they accept Catholics, Orla, or, you know, acknowledge our right to exist. Mary Quinn: Give us a hand here, Gerry. This’ll not close. We need to shift ourselves. We’re the last Fenians standing. Granda Joe: Relax, love. We’ve a good two or three hours before the rioting starts. Mary Quinn: I’ll not settle myself until we’re over that border, Da. Gerry Quinn: You’re absolutely sure we need the big clock, love? Mary Quinn: We’ve been through this, Gerry. Gerry Quinn: Definitely don’t want to bring the wee clock? Mary Quinn: I can’t be doing with the wee clock. Granda Joe: What exactly is your p

Derry Girls, CC BY-SA 4.0

Aunt Sarah: Orla has got really into step aerobics. Her instructor says she’s a natural. Says she’s got what it takes to go all the way. Mary Quinn: All the way in step aerobics? Aunt Sarah: But it’s out of control now, Mary. She’s stepping morning, noon and night. Apart from anything else, it’s dangerous. She nearly came through the ceiling yesterday. Okay, she might be gifted, but I just want her to have a normal childhood. Gerry Quinn: Er, look, I’m sorry. Do you absolutely need it? Ciaran: I’m afraid I do, sir, yes. Proof of ID. Gerry Quinn: But you have my surname written on it there. Ciaran: How do I know that’s your surname? Gerry Quinn: Because I just told you it was my surname. Ciaran: You could be lying. Gerry Quinn: Why would I lie? Ciaran: To get your hands on someone else’s photos. Gerry Quinn: Why would I want somebody else’s photos? Like, who would pay for somebody else’s photos? Granda Joe: Stalker, maybe. Ciaran: Yeah, exactly. Very good, sir. A stalker. Gerry Quinn: I

Derry Girls, CC BY-SA 4.0