"Tin o' minerdel an' a packa' o' Tay'O. I'm soo hungry I'd ate the arse of a farmer tru a tennis racket"
One portion of potato crisps may well be insufficient to satisfy the hunger brought on by the exchange of blows, in which case, the assailants may well say: "Give us a nuther Tay'O."
It would be wise not to over indulge in these foodstuffs, as a bout of indigestion or even nausea might result.
"Jesas, I'm as sick as a lorry load a mars bars," our off-colour friend might comment.
Hostilities over, the neighbours would return to one dwelling or another, where the host would say to the guest,
"Like the fella says, pu da turf on da fire."
The reconciled friends may well begin to converse about some of their fellow locals.
"Is he your cousind?" one might ask of the other, the answer to which, in the midlands of Ireland is invariably:
"Yes."
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