Father Ted: Dougal, how did you get into the church? Was it like, “Collect twelve crisp packets and become a priest”?
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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.
Father Dougal: It’s like a big tide of jam coming towards us, but jam made out of old women.