- Denise Royle: What's Dave doing?
- Jim Royle: He's talking us through his wild shites from last night.
- Barbara Royle: Hey, don't let him come in here!
- Jim Royle: Oh, it's alright. He's firmed up now.
- Denise Royle: Can we stop talking about Nana dying?
- Jim Royle: Yeah, have a little bit of respect... wait till she's gone out the door.
- [laughs]
- Barbara Royle: Antony, go and put that bin out, love. That chicken will start to stink if we leave it.
- Antony Royle: Mam! I've just sat down. What about lazy-arse here?
- [points to Denise]
- Barbara Royle: Hey! There's too much swearing in this house. That's you, that is, Jim. You taught them that.
- Jim Royle: Taught them, my arse!
- Norma Speakman: [to Barbara] I'll tell you who is in hospital. Gwen's husband.
- Barbara Royle: Ohh. What's he having done?
- Norma Speakman: He's having something fitted.
- Jim Royle: What? A wardrobe?
- [chuckles to himself]
- Antony Royle: [referring to Nana] Dad, has she really got a load of antiques?
- Jim Royle: Has she, my arse!