Only he and Fleabag know the real reason for the decision, but her glee in anticipating Godmother’s reaction is merited. His brother has been in a dubious “lorry accident” and the Priest has to care for him, pedophile or no. The Priest, who looks as depleted as Fleabag, has come to tell the happy couple that he can’t officiate their wedding. Death-marching to Dad and Godmother’s home for another portrait session, she perks up considerably when she finds the Priest already inside. The episode opens on a punishingly hungover Fleabag, who’s been laid low by too much gin and too many orgasms (nine!!) from her remarkably gifted attorney. Like its heroine, it’s here to upend your expectations and utterly dazzle you, and it succeeds wildly on both counts. Unfolding over a single Chatty Wednesday, it takes a freewheeling approach to plot, tossing characters around the board with wild abandon. But it’s only the beginning for this rollicking, hilarious episode, which might be Fleabag’s all-time best. It’s a short sequence that says more than many entire TV episodes.
He won’t be.” The next shot is a rueful pillow-talk confession: “He’s really good at it.” When Hot Misogynist invites Fleabag to sleep with him because he’s “really good at it,” her inner monologue responds: “He won’t be. The cold open compresses her drinks date with Hot Misogynist into 45 hilarious seconds, as Fleabag rapid-fire switches between arousal and horror.
After one very dark night of the soul, Fleabag has returned to her preferred vices: telling both the patriarchy and good-looking men where they can stick it.
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