MARY : Jaysus. But thon Bugsy fella's a right oul' nyarky crayter, isn't he?

BIDDY : He is, in sowl! A rip!

MARY : A rip indeed! A sour oul' glipe!

BIDDY : You've said it there, missus. Sour as gall! And a glipe to boot! But sure what would you expect when he was a gangster as a young fella.

MARY : Was he, by God?

BIDDY : Aye, Bugsy Malone. Sure they made a fillim about him years ago.

MARY : Was it any good?

BIDDY : Ah, now, Mary … I'm no Barry Norman. But it was hardly Citizen Kane, if you know what I mane.

MARY : I think I'm with you. Hardly Casablanca.

BIDDY : You're on the right lines, Mary. Let's just say it was no 2001. (They both ponder, shake heads and tut to themselves for a few seconds.) Mind you, Mary. His sister was a great girl altogether.

MARY : She was?

BIDDY : Aye. Molly, God be good to her. The poor crayter died of a fever when she was still young.

MARY : Could nobody save the poor girl?

BIDDY : Not a one. Thon oul' fever was the end of her.

MARY : Remind me now. What was it she did for a living, again?

BIDDY : A fishmonger. In Dublin. Leastways that was where I first laid eyes on her. You know there's some damn fine healthy weemin in thon oul' Dublin. Anyways. She worked the straight and narrow streets. If a street was half-way crooked, or if there was room for two cars to pass, she wasn't interested. Some voice on her, too. Oh, the golders of her! "Cockles and mussels", she'd roar. "Get your cockles and mussels!" Like a bloomin' fog-horn she was.

MARY : How did she get into thon line?

BIDDY : Sure it was a family affair. Her ma and da were at the same oul' game and she just carried on where they left off.

MARY : Sure it's no wonder.

BIDDY : Divil a bit!

MARY : But they say her oul' ghost can often be seen in them self-same streets she used to work.

BIDDY : I'd say thon was an oul' bit of codology. Ghost, indeed! A drap too much Arthur Guinness, I'd say!

MARY : You could be right, there. But I'm only tellin' what I heard.

BIDDY : You couldn't be up till them oul' ghosts, though, could you?

MARY : You could not. Slippytits the whole ching-bang. I'd give the oul' ghosts a wide berth, Biddy.

BIDDY : The bum's rush, missus.

MARY : Indeed! I'd walk up the awr side of the street if I seen one of them lachakoes coming my way.

BIDDY : And if the oul' street was straight and narrow, you'd see them for a quare distance!

MARY : You would! I'd jewk into the chemists so I would and get myself some corn plasters or a bottle of Magnesia till she'd passed.

BIDDY : You'd be doing the right thing, Mary. Thon oul' ghost poisonin' you to buy mussels aff her!

MARY : Aye! Or a jar of cockles!

BIDDY : You couldn't be up till them, at all! Ah well, there's my bus now. Good luck, now!

MARY : Aye. Safe home, now Biddy.