[INT. PADDY’S PUB—DAY]
Everyone is relaxing and lightly doing their jobs, when suddenly Mac bursts into the bar, in obvious distress.
Mac: Guys, guys, I have terrible news!
Dennis: Nobody gives a shit.
Mac: No, dude, this is really big news! I’m serious!
Dee: Okay, I’ll bite. What’s up?
Dennis rolls his eyes.
Dennis: Here we go.
Mac ignores him, gesturing wildly with his hands.
Mac: Margaret McPoyle won’t stop calling me!
Charlie, Frank, Dee, and Dennis all laugh.
Mac: What’s so funny?
Dennis: Okay, so A, she’s deaf-mute. How could she possibly call you?
Mac: She just breathes into the phone. Like this.
He imitates breathing into a phone.
Dennis: Uh, so B, what’s the big deal? You slept with her. You dug your own grave.
Mac: But I’m gay now! And she doesn’t know that!
Dee: Trust us, she knows.
Mac folds his arms.
Mac: Dee and Dennis, you’re ones to talk. You slept with McPoyles too.
Dee and Dennis’ smiles fade away.
Dee: Oh shit, he’s right.
Dennis: I slept with Margaret, and I just assume that you, Dee, slept with one or both of the McPoyle brothers in a whorish, birdlike rage.
Dee shrugs. Frank laughs.
Frank: You telling me that all three of you have slept with McPoyles? Gross! Seems like me and Charlie aren’t the dirty ones after all.
He reaches out to sock Charlie playfully on the arm, but Charlie dodges it.
Charlie: Actually, I did…kinda…do a McPoyle. Sorry, Frank.
Frank gapes at him.
Charlie: Yeah, we were hitting the milk pretty hard, talking about fiddles—
Dennis puts out a hand.
Dennis: Wait, stop. What about fiddles?
Charlie: Just fiddles, man. Metal, wood, plastic, cloth—
Frank: Not the point. Go on, Charlie.
Charlie: And we banged. It wasn’t a big deal.
Frank: Wait, wait, wait. So you’re telling me that I’m the only member of the gang that hasn’t banged a McPoyle?
Charlie: But don’t, like, make a big deal out of it or anything. It’s not, like, something to brag about.
The camera zooms uncomfortably close to Frank’s face.