Seriously, Irish people, it is not my fault this movie is so racist again Irish people!
[Editor's Note: Wait, is "Irish" even a race?]
Well, it’s very simple, the answer is SMOKEBOMB.
*run run run*
Now with the sprinkler system spraying water all over All Of Russell Tovey’s Nice Things (trademark pending), the gang struggles to switch it off. Which they do! Hey, at least the water didn’t resurrect the dead Grabber-
It latches itself to Jagger’s face like a particularly clingy girlfriend and starts suckin’ his blood, also like a clingy girlfriend, until the combined efforts of Lisa, Tovey, and Jagger smacking himself in the head manage to kill it.
Okay, wait, lemme try that again
Okay, we’re good.
Irish Bruce Campbell wanders back in, and Jagger starts demanding how the hell Campbell managed to kill one of those things by himself. Turns out, he had something in his blood… namely, alcohol. You see, ingesting alcohol is the only way to kill them! My god, if only we lived on an island with hot and cold running whiskey!
They take the dead Grabber to the bartender to discuss their plans of how to defend against these things, but his barkeep wife wanders in. “So, what are you guys all hiding conspicuously? A dead alien?”
“No, it’s… um. The hooker I’m hiring for your birthday! Yeah, we’re… we’re working out a routine!”
“Oooh, exciting! I’ll leave you alone then!”
“… Fuck, now I’ll actually have to buy a hooker. Do you have any idea how expensive that is?!”
They realize that, to keep everyone safe, everyone on the island will have to be Irish Bruce Campbell levels of drunk, with only one person to remain sober and in control, either Jagger or Lisa. Hmm… the tea-totalling workaholic who’s never even been drunk, or the barely functional alcoholic… well, obviously the one who has trouble with self control around alcohol should be the one forced to remain sober, I shouldn’t have to tell you why!
A table at the bar is filled with everything Campbell drank last night, and they all gather around as Lisa gets utterly smashed, and to complete the effect, Campbell even offers up his bottle of Irish moonshine, which I’m fairly certain is actually a type of gasoline. Oh god, if the moonshine don’t kill you, you’ll live till you die!
… What, nobody gets it? Sheesh, no one remembers the classics anymore.
To double check, they slip the blood to the once-again-alive Grabber (good god, he is harder to kill than a superhero), and it dies once again, but at this point, I’m pretty sure it just uses heaven’s revolving door. The next part of Jagger’s brilliant plan involves inviting everybody else to the pub to get them as smashed as possible, which, seeing as it’s a church full of Irish people, works as soon as he says it’s a free bar! (Oh, what am I talking about, you get a church full of anyone and they’d do the exact same thing.)
With everyone getting sloshed, the gang, Jagger, Lisa, Tovey, Campbell, the Barkeep, and Dr. Nicholas Cage all gather in the back of the bar to pool weapons. “So, what have we got?”
“I’ve brought my nail gun!”
“And a board with a nail!”
“And a pellet gun!”
“And a machete!”
“And my water pistol!”
“And my moonshine!”