完整德里女孩脚本数据集.zip

SEASON 1 EPISODE 1 [In Erin's bedroom. Orla is reading Erin's diary.] Erin: Is that my diary? [In the Quinn kitchen. Erin is ranting to Mary while Orla casually licks her spoon.] Erin: She's gone too far this time, Mammy. I mean, what next? Will I catch her trying on my knickers? Mary: Don't say knickers in front of your father. He can't cope. Erin: Aye, he can't cope. Orla: Sure, what's a pair of knickers between cousins? Mary: Less of the knickers. Erin: I won't put up with it anymore. Teenagers have rights now, you know? Mary: Don't be ridiculous. Erin: They do, Ma. It's true. Sure, Macaulay Culkin might be divorcing his parents. Mary: (to Jerry) Do you hear this? This'll be someone she met at that stupid summer scheme you insisted we send her on. A bloody 'Friends Across the Barricades' thing. I have nothing against Protestants. I'm all for integration, I am. But if they're letting their wains divorce them… Erin: Macaulay Culkin isn't a Protestant, Ma. Mary: It's only gonna give our wains ideas. Erin: Well, he might be. But I didn't meet him at 'Friends Across the Barricades'. Mary: I don't care where you met him. You're not to see him again. Understood? Erin: Fine. (storms off) Granda Joe: (watching TV) Look at this. They're bombing the bridge, apparently. Mary: (looks worried) No. (Everyone runs to the TV) Mary: Oh dear God, no. Does this mean they can't get to school? I've had a whole summer of it, Gerry. She's melting my head. Gerry: Sure their bus can go the long way round. (knock on the front door) Mary: I'll get it. (opens door) Alright Sarah? Granda Joe: (To Gerry) Them wains shouldn't have to take the bus to school. You should be driving them, you useless shit. Gerry: I have to work, Joe. Granda Joe: Work? (chuckles) Is that what you call it? Gerry: Yes. Granda Joe: Why don't you just leave my Mary alone? Gerry: Because we've been married for seventeen years, Joe. We have two children. And because, we're in love with each other. Erin: (looks disgusted while eating toast) Aw, boke. Granda Joe: I'll find some dirt on you yet, boy. I've got people working on it. Orla: (in shock while eating a bowl of cereal) God, Mammy. You're up early. Sarah: So are you. You should be having a lie in, love. You're on your holidays. (takes bowl of cereal out of Orla's hands) Mary: First day of term, Sarah. Sarah: Is it, aye? Mary: It is, aye. (Erin takes large bite of toast while everyone starts watching the TV again.) Sarah: (eating cereal) Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm not enjoying this bomb. Granda Joe: Shocking. Mary: Desperate. Sarah: Disgusting and disgraceful. I have an appointment at Tropicana at twelve. Fifteen minutes in this stand up. But sure I'll not get over the bridge at this rate. It's going to play havoc with my build-up. This is what they want. They want ordinary people to suffer. This is what it's all about. Erin: I'm pretty sure interfering with your sunbed sessions isn't very high up on anyone's political agenda, Aunt Sarah. Sarah: I wouldn't be so sure. Erin: (gets up and puts on a denim jacket) We better head. Mary: (looks shocked) Hey. What do you think you're playing at? Where's your blazer? Erin: I've decided to put my own spin on the uniform this year. Mary: I'll spin you across that floor. Get your blazer on. Erin: Look, Mammy, I'm not a clone. I should be allowed to express my individuality. I'm sorry, I'm not wearing my blazer, end of story. Mary: Gerry, pass me the wooden spoon. (Erin looks appalled.) [On the street. Clare is wearing a denim jacket, waiting for her friends. Erin and Orla approach wearing blazers.] Clare: What's all this? I thought we were going to be individuals this year. Erin: Look, I wanted to Clare, but my Ma wouldn't let me. Clare: Well, I'm not being an individual on my own. (takes off jacket) [In Dennis's Wee Shop. Erin, Orla and Clare are standing by the pick and mix. Clare smells some of the sweets.] Erin: You not getting anything? Clare: Sure, aren't I doing this fast for Ethiopia? Erin: (putting sweets in bag and eating some) Oh for Christ's sake. What is it with you and Africa? Clare: (excitedly) Will you sponsor me? Erin: How much? Clare: Two pound. Erin: Two pound? Catch yourself on. Clare: What's happening over there is really lousy, Erin. Father Conway showed us a video. There's this one wee fella, Kamal. He's only ten and every morning he walks twenty-five miles to the nearest well. Orla: Does he just really enjoy wells, aye? Erin: Twenty-five miles? How far is that? Clare: Far. Erin: Like, how far are we talking? From here to Buncrana? Clare: Further. It's more like from here to Ballybofey. Erin: Shut up. From here to Ballybofey? Sure you'd be knackered. Clare: Kamal is knackered. Erin: Are you sure Kamal isn't exaggerating? Clare: Stop slagging off Kamal. Kamal doesn't have it easy. Now will you sponsor me or not? Erin: Fine! (empties bag of pick and mix) Dennis: Ah! (runs over to pick and mix) You touch them, you buy them. That's the law. Erin: I don't think that is the law. Dennis: (angry) If I say it's the law, it's the law, smart hole! Erin: Right, it's just I can't afford them anymore. Have to give all my money to Kamal. Dennis: Who the fuck's Kamal? Orla: He's a wee Ethiopian fella from Ballybofey, Dennis. (Erin looks embarrassed.) Clare: (excitedly holds up flyer and pen) Do you want to sponsor me, Dennis? Dennis: (furious) Get out! (All three girls run out of shop.) [Outside the shop. Erin, Orla and Clare stumble out. David Donnelly is putting up posters.] Erin: Good one, Geldoff! (sees David) Oh my God. David. David Donnelly. Okay, just act normal. (laughs dramatically and starts walking) No way. Are you serious? Clare: (concerned and confused) What are you doing? Who are you talking to? David: Erin, have you got a light? Erin: Me? No, I don't smoke. (whispers to self) Why the hell do I not smoke? Orla: I have one. (throws lighter) I don't smoke either. I just like melting stuff. (David looks confused.) Erin: Cool poster. David: Oh, do you think so? (lights cigarette) Erin: Yeah. Really nice use of, you know, letters. David: Thanks. You should come along tonight. Erin: You're inviting me to your gig? David: Yeah, well, all of you. Erin: (smirks) But you'd specifically like me to go. I mean, just so we're clear. (Erin stares deeply into David's eyes.) Orla: But Erin, 'Murder She Wrote' is on tonight. You never miss 'Murder She Wrote'. (Erin's expression changes into annoyance.) Erin: (whispers) Shut up. (Clare frantically runs up to Erin.) Clare: We're going to be late. David: Yeah. Kicks off at six. Erin: Sweet. Cool. Maybe I'll see you there then. (Clare drags Erin away quickly.) (Orla stares at David, opening and closing her fists. David throws lighter and Orla catches it. She follows Erin and Clare.) [At the bus stop. Erin, Clare and Orla pass a bus beside the river.] (Orla follows with her arms in the air, pretending to be an aeroplane.) Clare: (panicky) You're not seriously going to his concert, are you? Erin: Gig, Clare. It's called a gig, and I have to go. He invited me specifically. Michelle: (getting out of the bus that the girls just passed) Motherfuckers! (Erin, Clare and Orla turn to face Michelle.) Michelle: (walking towards the other girls) 'Motherfucker', it's my new thing. Watched this film last night. My Da got it off Pyro Pauline, and it's about these two lads, and they wear these crackin' suits and they rock about just shooting people and eating cheeseburgers, and they're all “motherfucker” this, “motherfucker” that. It's got your man in it. Awk, what do you call him? The disco dancer from 'Look Who's Tal