Howyeh? As we reach the halfway point of Love/Hate we are greeted by Simple Tom wailing like a banshee, bleeding from his ears and gibbering in the foetal position. He’s either just watched an episode of Count Arthur Strong or is having further brain ache problems. He gets let out of prison into Siobhan‘s arms but Fran is still not a fan. He tells Nidge he will do time if he has to be not because some bollocks with marshmallow for brains drops him in it. Nidge warns him to touch “not a fucking hair” on Tommy’s scrambled head but Fran has that look in his eye. You know it – the never-not-there homicidal psychosis one.
Fran has that look in his eye. You know it – the never-not-there homicidal psychosis one.
Among the undercover crew Detective Doorman is getting rattled by his babysitter Chunk – his nerves are gone with that eejit watching over him 24/7. So Gavin and Ciaran accompany him to rough up and death threat the tub. Damn, these are some undercover rogue cops who DON’T play by the rules.
Damn, these are some undercover rogue cops who DON’T play by the rules.
Andrew, the hairline fracture inventing crowns enthusiast, suggests himself to Nidge as the businessman of the operation. “I’m an MBA” he says. “What da fuck would I want with a basketball player ye shoite?” says Nidge but Andrew is as persuasive salesman as he is useless a gambler. Nidge agrees to his proposal (or at least pays lip service to it as he decides which of the multiple gruesome deaths at his disposal he will visit upon the deluded bougie turd in the coming weeks).
“I’m an MBA” he says. “What da fuck would I want with a basketball player ye shoite?”
Speaking of gruesome deaths isn’t it about time Tommy had his? Fran is of the opinion that it is. He takes the simple one out for a ride to “see some puppies” to which Tommy responds “fucking A!” instead of the more appropriate “Raas! Mi gone!” Siobhan spots Tommy entering Fran’s van, puts poo-and-poo together and realises that Tommy’s egg timer is running out of sand. Ruh-roh!
Tommy responds with “fucking A!” instead of the more appropriate “Raas! Mi gone!”
She gatecrashes Warren‘s Holy Communion reception and gives Nidge the 411. He’s just in time when he rings Fran. Putting on his best Will Gardner accent he informs Fran that the interview where Tommy fingers him is inadmissible as there should have been an appropriate adult present at his police interview, what with his brain-damage and all. “Grand so!” says Fran and sends Tommy home with a puppy for his trouble.
Lizzie demurs because, as she correctly points out, the IRA would never attack any kind of funeral or memorial service.
It’s a busy week on the reception front for Nidge whose mammy dies. The funeral would be a great opportunity for Lizzie and Wayne to give Nidge his cards but Lizzie demurs because, as she correctly points out, the IRA would never attack any kind of funeral or memorial service.
The real news of the week though is that hot loopy redhead smackhead Debbie is back. Booyah!
The verdict: I could use some crowns myself.
Marks out of 10: 7.5