The Royle Family is a popular, BAFTA award-winning television sitcom produced by Granada Television for the BBC, which ran for three series between 1998 and 2000, with a special episode in late 2006. It concerns the lives of a working class Manchester family, the Royles.

The series is remarkable for its simple production and realistic portrayal of working-class family life at the turn of the millennium. It, therefore, has something in common with kitchen sink drama. The scripts contain often banal conversations and episodes commonly revolve around a family occasion, such as the marriage of the family's daughter Denise, the birth of her first child, and the child's christening. All the episodes take place in the Royle's home, which appears to be a typical British council house or similar; most centres on the telly-centric living room. The first series of the show was written by Caroline Aherne and Craig Cash, who also acted in it, along with poet and comedian Henry Normal. In the second series Aherne and Cash were joined by Carmel Morgan, and finally the third series was written by Aherne and Cash alone.

In a list of the 100 greatest British television programmes drawn up by the British Film Institute in 2000 and voted on by industry professionals, The Royle Family was placed 31 st . In a 2004 poll to find Britain's best sitcom, The Royle Family was placed 19 th out of 100 nominations.

The show was made by rival company and 3sixtymedia partner Granada Television.

nise Royle: Dad, stop fiddling with yourself. m Royle: I'm not fiddling with meself, I paid a quid for these underpants and I've got about 50 pence worth stuck up me arse. rbara Royle: She's right. If you're not picking you're arse, you're pecking you're teeth. m Royle: I'll pick what I want in me own house and when she gets her own house she can pick what she likes - her nose, her arse, her teeth. Just go and treat yourself. rbara Royle: Oh, I'm ashamed of this family, I am really.

nise Royle: You're tight as a crab's arse, you, Dad. m Royle: Crab's arse, my arse, it's two pound fifty phoning next door!

m Royle: Anne Robinson, my arse! Watchdog? I am watching a bloody dog!

n hearing that Denise is pregnant] m Royle: At least you can do something bloody properly!

t's Christmas day and Emma and her parents have been invited to the house - Jim is telling Roger about his career prospects] m Royle: I've joined the dance ger Kavanagh: What dance is that, Jim? m Royle: The REDUNdance

rbara Royle: [about her mother on the phone] It's shocking, really, you know - she's 82. m Royle: Why what's happened? rbara Royle: Well, she went down the precinct and she had this voucher - and it was one day out of date and the miserable sod of a manager wouldn't let her have the money off! m Royle: How much was it worth? rbara Royle: 20p. m Royle: 20p? It'll cost her more than that to ring every bugger she knows to tell!

rbara Royle: Antony, take that chicken out to the bins, will you, love? That chicken will start to stink if we leave it out. tony Royle: Mam, I've just sat down [points at Jim] what about lazy-arse here! rbara Royle: 'Ey! There's to much swearing in this house [turns to Jim] that's you that is Jim, you've taught him that! m Royle: Taught him my arse!

nise Royle: Shall we go down The Feathers for the last hour? ve Best: No, I'm knackered. nise Royle: Ok. I'm not bothered anyway - we can always stay in and watch the telly. ve Best: Is there 'owt on? nise Royle: No. ve Best: Well, we may as well go down the feathers then. nise Royle: You were too knackered to go a minute ago! rbara Royle: Oh, let him go for a drink if that's what he wants! nise Royle: I just asked him! He said he was too knackered to go! ve Best: Do you wanna' go or what? nise Royle: I wanted to go in the first place. I'm not going now anyway - you've annoyed me.

rbara Royle: [talking to Denise who obviously isn't listening] Oh - you know that Donna who works with me. Well, she only works half days - afternoons. And her Mam usually picks the kids up for her; anyway - her Mam's going into hospital and she won't be able to pick the kids up for her. So, Donna, wants to swap to mornings', so - she has to see Pauline. So, she goes and sees Pauline and she says "Can I swap to mornings?" and she tells her, you know, about her Mam going to hospital and all that. And Pauline's not having any of it - she's got herself in a right pickle. What's she going to do? nise Royle: What are you on about? rbara Royle: Donna! m Royle: What's the matter with her? rbara Royle: Well, her Mam you see normally picks the kids up for her in the afternoons' after school - but she's going into hospital so she won't be able to. So Donna wanted to swap - Pauline won't let her. So she's stuck with someone to pick the kids' up for her, ain't she. m Royle: Well, what's that got to do with you? I mean it's not your bloody problem is it? rbara Royle: I'm just telling you! m Royle: Well, don't you think I've got enough to worry about myself? rbara Royle: [sighs] You've no interest in anyone but yourself, Jim.

rma Speakman: I never drink me, just a sherry at Christmas, whiskey at new year and a bottle of stout.

ry Carroll: Look at Anthony's hair. He looks like a little choir boy. m Royle: He looks like a little gay boy.

m Royle: Woah-ho, if you lot take my advice, you won't go near that lavatory for at least half an hour and whatever you do don't strike a bloody match. nise Royle: Dad, we've got company. m Royle: Well, it's only Dave, he's as bloody bad. nise Royle: Why do you have to announce it every time you go to the toilet. m Royle: I'm only making polite conversation, what's the do with her? nise Royle: Well, we could do without it, thanks all the same. m Royle: [to Barbara] And what do you keep buying that bloody cheap toilet paper for? It's cutting my arse to ribbons. nise Royle: Mam, tell him, he's doing it on purpose now. rbara Royle: When I was buying the dear stuff you complained. m Royle: [taken aback] I didn't. rbara Royle: You did, said you 'may as well wipe your arse on pound notes. m Royle: [Jim starts to laugh hysterically] Oh, yeah, I did, yeah, I did, yeah.

rbara Royle: [in a discussion of homosexuals] Well, I don't care what anybody is - I don't care whether they're gay, straight or Australian. It's what they're like as a person that matters. m Royle: Aye, aye Barb', steady on there, will ya? This ain't Live Aid you know, its just my bloody birthday. rbara Royle: Oh, you're a sarcastic bugger you are Jim!

rma Speakman: [after Dave agrees to take her home] Oh, you're a good'n. I'll leave you something nice in my will. ve Best: Hey - why wait till then? There'll be plenty of room in the back of the van when you get out - I've had my eye on that clock of yours. rma Speakman: Ha, ha - you cheeky begger. Hugh Scully'd give us a few bob for that. nise Royle: Will you stop talking about Nana dying? m Royle: Yeah! Have a little bit of respect - wait till she's gone out of the door. [laughs] Oh, I'm only joking, Norma - bloody hell, it'll be a sad day in this house when you snuff it... if we don't get that clock. rbara Royle: Oh - he hasn't got a heart, Mam - he's got a swinging brick.

m Royle: Get your coat on, Barb. rbara Royle: Are you taking me with you? m Royle: No, I'm gonna turn the fire off... of course I'm taking you. I wouldn't leave you here on me birthday, would I? Better bring your purse. rbara Royle: [quietly] Ugh.

rma Speakman: May God forgive you Jim Royle for talking ill of the dead like that. m Royle: I wasn't speaking ill of the dead, I was speaking about you, the living bloody dead!

nise Royle: [talking about Dave and Beverly Macca] Every time when I come out of the toilet she was round him, right, like flies, right, round shit. [to Dave] And you're the shit, and she? she's not even the fly because she's to fat to be the fly and she's the shit and that's what they are, they're two shovels of shit. rbara Royle: You don't have to bring shit into it, love.

nise Royle: [to Dave] Every time you do a gig round here, that cow is there! m Royle: What's going on now? rbara Royle: Oh, they're arguing about Beverly Macca. m Royle: She's all right ? Beverly. She's a tasty little piece.

nise Royle: I'm only not smoking in front of Baby David until he's old enough to get up and walk out of the room, then it's his choice.

ve Best: 'Ey, I'm rough today me me guts are well off, I had a bad pint last night. m Royle: I bet you washed them down with a few more, though, didn't you. tony Royle: How d'ya know if its a bad pint? ve Best: Cos you can shit through the eye of a needle. m Royle: Where did you go? ve Best: Pear tree. m Royle: Bloody hell, you don't wanna drink in there. ve Best: Well, I know that now, don't I? m Royle: Bloody hell, He doesn't clean his pumps him. tony Royle: No, actually the lagers all right. m Royle: How would you know, soft lad? tony Royle: Dad, I'm 15. m Royle: 'Ey! listen if I ever catch you in The Feathers I'll clip you round the bloody ear, you do not shit on your own doorstep! ve Best: I nearly did last night, I couldn't get the key in quick enough.

rbara Royle: How's your diet going, Cheryl? eryl Carroll: Oh, all right thanks, yeah, Barbara, I lost 4 pounds... and then I put 2 back on and then another 2. But I've not gained any. rbara Royle: Oh, well I think you're doing ever so well to stick to it, love.

rma Speakman: [talking about Dave and Denise's honeymoon] So, where is it you're going again? nise Royle: Tenerife. rma Speakman: Ooh, that'll be gorgeous, won't it! Me and your grandad went to Blackpool for a week in a B&B. It's a Harry Ramsden's now, which is quite fitting as we met in a fish shop, It was after the town hall dance, I went there with my friend Betty. rbara Royle: Oh, Betty. rbara Royle: She married a joiner, moved to Leeds, he knocked her about a bit, but her home was lovely. ry Carroll: Do you ever hear from her, Norma? rma Speakman: No, I never liked her even when we were best friends.

m Royle: [talking about Joe] Look out, here comes Mastermind.

rma Speakman: Is this hat too far forward? m Royle: No, we can still see your face.

rma Speakman: Would you like a sandwich, love? ve Best: No thanks, Nana. rma Speakman: There's no Picalilly left in this jar. m Royle: You're joking. Do you think we can continue with the celebrations in the face of that revelation?

rma Speakman: Where's your best man, Barry in't it? ve Best: No, Gary. He's got to work he can't get the morning off, he's coming straight from the butchers. m Royle: It's all we want, innit,tThe church stinking of bloody mince. iggy: Ey, you know what'll happen, don't ya, he'll put his hand in his pocket for the ring and pull out a pork chop.

rbara Royle: Give us a go of that new lippy, Denise. It's a lovely colour, in't it? You know I can't usually wear red, it does nothing for me. Can't wear red, can I, Jim? m Royle: No, that's what's held you back all these years. rbara Royle: D'ya know I am looking my age, it's these last few months it's crept up on me. Mind you it could be worse at least I've still got me schoolgirl figure. m Royle: I must clean that mirror. nise Royle: Get lost, Dad, Mam's got a great figure for a woman her age. rbara Royle: It's gonna be really tempting working at that Bakers. I don't wanna put any weight on before the wedding, I want to get meself a really nice little suit. m Royle: Why don't you go in your school uniform, it still fits you, doesn't it?

rma Speakman: Ey, I tell you who is in hospital, Gwen's husband. rbara Royle: Ooh, what's he having done? rma Speakman: He's having something fitted. m Royle: What - a wardrobe?

rbara Royle: [talking about Cheryl] Have you asked her to be bridesmaid? nise Royle: Aw, yeah, aw, she was thrilled. m Royle: Bridesmaid, my arse, she'll look like a bloody Easter egg on legs. tony Royle: Yeah, and the only reason you're having her as a bridesmaid is to make you look better. nise Royle: Get lost, Anthony! rbara Royle: Is she really on a diet? nise Royle: Yeah. rbara Royle: D'ya think she'll ever get married? tony Royle: Who'd have her? m Royle: Stevie Wonder. tony Royle: [laughs] Yeah.

m Royle: Anthony, if that's the invisible man, tell him I can't see him.

rbara Royle: Get the door, will ya, Anthony? tony Royle: I have to do everything around here! m Royle: It's probably Snow White looking for you, Grumpy!

m Royle: I'm gonna go and have a chat with the Arabs. eryl Carroll: What d'ya mean Jim? m Royle: Mustapha Crap.

tony Royle: Who's stunk that toilet out? rbara Royle: Who d'ya think. m Royle: Well that's what its for isn't it, where d'you expect me to shit? You'd soon have something to worry about if I crapped in the kitchen.

rbara Royle: Is there 'owt on, Jim? m Royle: No rbara Royle: 'Ey Jim, Jim, d'ya fancy an early night? m Royle: There must be bloody something on, mustn't there!

nise Royle: Dad! Your flies are undone! m Royle: Ah, the cage might be open, but the beast is asleep. rbara Royle: Beast my arse!

m Royle: [on Christmas Day] The one day we all decide to sit down and watch the telly, and they put a load of shite on!

eryl Carroll: [talking about Anthony] Has he got a girlfriend yet? nise Royle: Yeah... His hand

rma Speakman: [about her eye surgeon] D'ya know what he said, Barbara? He said, even though I'm taking the cataract out of your eye, I'm leaving the twinkle in.

ve Best: [Jim, Dave and Denise are watching Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? The previous question was Ethanol is a form of which substance?] Alcohol. I thought you would've known that, Denise. nise Royle: I've never even drank ethanol.

nise Royle: [yelling at Dave after going into labour with him not there] Trust you not to be here when me waters broke! You right useless lump of shite!

ry Carroll: Michelle, I think I have one of your children in my class. chelle: Are you a teacher Mary? ry Carroll: Yes. rbara Royle: No you're not a teacher, you're a dinnerlady! ry Carroll: Oh yes.