Fitz: [voice over] Times were hard - but then again, times were always hard. At Christmas, if you woke up without an erection, chances are you'd have nothing to play with.
Fitz: [voice over] We all play with the cards we're dealt - and I wasn't holding any aces.
Fitz: [voice over] But just as most days were pretty uneventful - serving only to remind you just how dull life here was - there was one time of the year that positively reinforced it.
Fitz: I fucking hate Christmas.
Seany: Too right.
Nellie: You're not wrong.
Fitz: [voice over] Christmas! When every bastard who's ever left comes back for their two days of gloating, keen to tell you just how wonderful they're doing, how exciting their lives are.
[Fitz finds there's an 18-month waiting list to get his dad into a nursing home]
Mr. Clouston: Well, people have been known to move quickly to the top of the list... with a little "cooperation."
Fitz: Oh, yeah? What kind of "cooperation."
Mr. Clouston: About a thousand pounds worth of "cooperation."
Fitz: Uh, yeah... Okay. If I agree to give you this "cooperation," when would you need it?
Mr. Clouston: Well, I'll be expecting to hear from you in the following week; and, if everything goes to plan, the next aneurysm, heart attack or stroke has your name written all over it.
Big John: I thought I'd remind you of our debt in case you'd forgotten.
Fitz: No, I've not forgotten.
Big John: Now, see, that's what I thought, but Tommy here wasn't so sure. Thought you might need reminding.
Fitz: Oh, no. It hadn't slipped our minds.
Big John: Good. By the way, which hand do you wank with?
Big John: Which hand do you wank with? Simple enough question.
Big John: I wanna be sure that Tommy here doesn't remove ALL the pleasure in your life.
Fitz: Oh, I see. Eh... my right hand's my favorite choice.
Big John: Good. I'll make sure he bears it in mind. Be seeing you, boys.
Harry: You scratch my back, we give you an all-over body massage, eh? - in a manner of speaking.
Dr. MacFarlane: If the Lord Almighty with all His powers decided that your time was up, but he's gonna let you decide how it's to happen, what would you go for?
Mr. Murray: Well, if I had the choice, it would have to be quick. And painless.
Dr. MacFarlane: No. That's boring. C'mon, you can go any way you want.
Mr. Murray: Well, what would you do?
Dr. MacFarlane: It would have to be in bed. In bed with three young, fit nymphomaniacs, drinking the finest malt whiskey off their breasts, eating fine food from their flat stomachs, and snorting cocaine from the crevices in their arses; OR, watching Scotland humiliate England with a 3-0 victory in the World Cup Final.