Episode 2

Fleabag:I opened the cafe with my friend Boo. Yeah, she's dead now.

Claire:My sister: I have two degrees, a husband and a Burberry coat.

Fleabag:Dad's way of coping with two motherless daughters was to buy us tickets to feminist lectures, start fucking our godmother and eventually stop calling.

Claire · Fleabag:Please don't contact me or turn up at my house drunk in your underwear. It won't work this time. / It will.

Fleabag:I think my period's coming.

Fleabag · Harry:Nice haircut. / It's better.

Fleabag:Give me two. [Beat] Gang bangs, Asian, I'd put a tenner on it.

Martin · Claire:Oh, well, it must be my lucky day. / You said she only likes to talk to people she fancies.

Fleabag:Martin has been sent to his study; Fleabag looks at camera after Claire says 'He's organising your surprise birthday party.'

Fleabag · Claire:I have a week to organise that now. / Best of luck.

Fleabag:Stole it from a market. / Market artist.

Fleabag:Or I'll tell her you were watching gang bangs.

Martin:Please don't do that again. [pause] I wasn't, by the way.

Fleabag · Harry (quoting):You're not like other girls. You can... keep up.

Fleabag:I admire how much Harry commits to our break-ups.

Fleabag:A few times, he's even cleaned the whole flat. Like it's a crime scene.

Fleabag:I've considered timing a break-up for when the flat needs a bit of a going over.

Harry:I don't think this is working. [Harry appears to be attempting to fold/pack dramatically and it's not going well]

Fleabag:But he always leaves... him to come back for.

Fleabag:I'm not obsessed with sex, I just can't stop thinking about it. The performance of it. The awkwardness of it. The drama of it. The moment you realise someone wants your body. Not so much the feeling of it.

Fleabag:I took half an hour trying to look nice and I ended up looking amazing. Just one of those days.

Fleabag:Yeah, you check me out, chub-chub, because it's never gonna happen.

Fleabag:Oh, God, he can't believe how attractive I am. Kind of worried I'm going to make a sex offender out of the poor guy.

Fleabag · Man on street:Here we go. This better be good. Here we go. [Man coughs and says 'Hooker slag.']

Fleabag:Oh. Dropped my cucumber.

Fleabag · Customer:That'll be, er, £12.55, please. / London, eh?

Customer · Fleabag:Where do I recognise her? Is she famous? / Boo's death hit the papers. Local cafe girl gets hit by bike and a car and another bike.

Fleabag:I'm sorry, I don't have any change. [Customer has presumably not paid enough]

Fleabag:The next man who walks in here is getting ridden to death.

Fleabag:Dad! / Not ideal.

Dad:Dad's extended attempt to start a meaningful conversation repeatedly failing — ellipses, false starts, 'er...' — before pivoting to 'Did you take the sculpture?'

Fleabag · Dad:No. / What sculpture? / Oh, right, fine, good. Good, you said no and... ..that means I can go.

Dad:Oh, right, fine, good. Good, you said no and... ..that means I can go.

Woman · Fleabag:Hey. Do you do, like, hot organic-y food? / Of course. / Like, risotto. / Yeah. Sure. Grab a seat.

Fleabag · Jake (or male acquaintance):Fucked me up the arse. / What are you getting?

Fleabag · Jake:Oh, just these. For my... ..tiny, bleeding vagina. / Hot.

Jake · Fleabag:Stock cubes. / Hot.

Jake · Fleabag:I hope it's a light flow. / Oh, it never is. / It never... ..is.

Fleabag:Yes! / Yes, fucking yes, please, yes. / Yes. / Cool.

Steph (woman in gym/café):Yes! I'm so happy with my body now. I don't have to define myself by how I look because I've just got a fucking great body. Yeah, I can do other stuff now!

Woman (gym friend):Mike wants to start trying for a baby. / OK. / No... I can't blow this body on a baby, Steph. I'm going to have to leave him.

Fleabag:Oh, shit. Oh. That is not hygienic.

Fleabag (flashback) · Boo:I suppose you should meet Hillary. [pause] The most important thing is, if you don't like it, we can't take it back, OK?

Fleabag · Boo:As long as I can wear it or eat it I'm happy. / You can do both of those things.

Fleabag · Boo:You idiot! / Escape artist.

Fleabag:I don't feel anything about guinea pigs, they're pointless, but Boo took Hillary very seriously as a gift and, soon, everything became guinea pig-related.

Fleabag:So reliable. Utterly inaccessible. Relentlessly profound. All he wants is to get you in the bath and ask questions like... 'What are you afraid of?' And you find yourself saying things like... 'I guess... losing the currency of youth.'

Fleabag · Arsehole Guy:Ask me a question. / When did you realise you were so good looking? / I knew I was different when I was about nine, but shit got real around 11. Shit got real? / You know... Aunts got weird.

Arsehole Guy · Fleabag:Do you ever feel lonely? / Yeah. Of course. Do you? / Never.

Arsehole Guy · Fleabag:Do you want some pineapple? / Yeah. [then sex sounds immediately follow]

Fleabag · Arsehole Guy:God, yeah! Oh, they're so small! They are so small! ... God, they are so fucking tiny! Yeah, I guess they're... Oh, God, they're hardly even there! I mean, what the fuck even are they? / Bit much. / Excuse me!

Arsehole Guy:Bit much. / Excuse me!

Fleabag:I'm having a Harry panic. Madame Ovary's telling me to run back to safe place, I can make baby in safe place, but you've got to ride it out. Mustn't call Ha—

Harry · Fleabag:Thanks for coming. / Were you busy? / No, I was in the interval... of Cats. The musical.

Fleabag · Harry:Was it good? / Really good, actually. Really good. / Sorry for interrupting. / No, that's OK. I, er... I got the feeling it wasn't going to end well for the cats, so probably good to remember them like that before they all...

Fleabag:I wish he'd just fuck me. All he wants to do is make love.

Fleabag:I wish he'd just fuck me. All he wants to do is make love.

Fleabag:He's wasting me. I was once fucking this guy who would breathe on every thrust... / You're so young! / I masturbate about that all the time.

Fleabag:I masturbate a lot these days. Especially when I'm bored. Or angry. Or upset. [...] Or happy.

Fleabag:Look, I think we should stop masturbating. And don't say anything yet...

Fleabag · Harry:I've hidden our vibrators. / Our?

Harry · Fleabag:Well, I think you're being really sexy. / Don't! / Oh! I'm joking. I never masturbate. I don't know how.

Fleabag · Harry:Also, I thought we should try and surprise each other once every day... / Are you getting this out of a book?

Claire · Fleabag:How are you? / Quiet day? / Yeah, I'm fine. / You OK? You look stressed. / Well, I'm successful, so...

Claire · Fleabag:Do you have rye bread? / No, but I have some normal bread you can puke up after.

Claire:Great.

Claire · Fleabag:Claire organises her own surprise party — 'I can organise it, do the food, act surprised, and just take it off your hands.' — completing the full collapse of the surprise party fiction

Claire · Fleabag:How behind are you? If it's money that you need... / I don't need money. / That'll be £25, please.

Claire:Can't believe that thing's still alive.

Claire · Fleabag:Oh, any news on Harry? / Yeah, we're back together. / Oh, God, I can't keep up.

Fleabag:Harry? [looks into her flat, finds someone else there] Oh. Shit.

Jake · Fleabag:Surprise! [jumping out at Fleabag in shower] / Why would you do that? I thought I was going to get raped!

Fleabag:It was a good joke.

Fleabag:It was a good joke. [Harry says this after Fleabag nearly had a heart attack from the surprise]

Fleabag · Harry:That was horrible. / It was a surprise. / I know. / Thank you.

Martin (on phone):I know what you look like! I know what you took! That is the last time!

Fleabag:I had to go into the history on my computer to find something I'd seen on the H&M website this morning and... I don't want to point fingers but... anal, gang bang, mature, big cock, small tits, hentai, Asian, teen, MILF, big butts, lesbian, gay, facial, fetish, bukake, young and old, swallow, rough, voyeur and public.

Harry:Why are you being so sexy? / Don't make me hate you. Loving you's painful enough.

Fleabag:OK, sorry, but I really think you should write that down... For your songs and stuff. It's perfect! It's poetic yet real. Serious.

Harry · Fleabag:Don't... make me... / Hate you. / Yeah, I know, thank you.

Fleabag:He's going to write that down. [watching Harry]

Harry:I'm not going to clean. / It's still in pretty good shape, so...

Harry:DOOR SLAMS / DOOR OPENS / Forever. / DOOR SLAMS

Fleabag:He'll be back.