Father Dougal: Our Father, who art in heaven…
Father Ted: Hallowed.
Father Dougal: Hallowed be thy..
Father Ted: Name.
Father Dougal: Papa don’t preach…

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More from Father Ted

Niamh Conolly: The church in Ireland secretly had lots of potatoes during the famine, and they hid the potatoes in pillows and sold them abroad in potato fairs. And the Pope closed down a lot of the factories that were makin’ the potatoes and turned them into prisons for children.
Father Ted: God almighty, she says that as if there’s something sinister about it all! I mean, what is the problem with her?

Mrs Doyle: They were a bit obsessed with the old…S-E-X. God I’m glad I never think of that type of thing Father. That whole sexual world. God, when you think of it it’s a dirty, filthy thing, isn’t it Father? Can you imagine Father? Can you imagine Father, looking up at your husband, and him standing over you with his lad in his hand, wanting you to degrade yourself? God almighty can you imagine that Father? Can you picture it there Father? Oh get a good mental picture of it. Can you see him there? Ready to do the business?

Father Ted: Dougal! Have you been drinking?
Dougal: I have, Ted! I’ve been drinking like a mad eejit! Oh, wait! (gives a drawn-out wink to Father Fintan) No I haven’t!

Father Jack: I love my brick!
Father Ted: Ah, that’s nice. Perhaps we’re seeing a new side to Father Jack? A more caring, considerate…
(Jack suddenly hurls the brick at Ted, knocking him out)
Father Jack: Ah, feck it! Fed up with brick!

Mrs. Doyle: Oh, Pat was wondering if he could put his massive tool in my box.
Father Ted: What! How dare you!
Pat (raising an enormous adjustable spanner): Yes, too big for the milk float.

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