# I'm not sick, but I'm not well
# And I'm so hot
♪ Cos I'm in hell. ♪
GRUNTING
MARK: 'Hmm.
'Once upon a time, I might have woken to the sound of a song thrush.
'Now it's a couple of guys pounding the living daylights out of each other.
'I mean, it's fine.
'It's just, when Jeremy had sex with women, I hated the noise,
'but at least there was something in it for me.
'Now it's like there are two Jeremys in there humping each other.
'That would be his dream.' JEZ: Fuck!
So, just to be clear, for my records.
You're sleeping with Joe regularly now.
Can't handle it. I can handle it, I'm fine with it.
Just, what, you've gone gay?
Your word, not mine. Sure, but...
let's say you had a Wikipedia page, which obviously you don't,
regardless of how many times you try and put one up.
Would it say that Jeremy Usborne was gay or straight?
I don't fit in to your tiny little boxes.
I'm just looking for that sacred connection, and for that,
I'd fuck any single member of the human race.
Yes. Yes, I believe that.
You know I've always been a bit gay. I've always liked a bit of that.
Like with Pej in Darty.
You and Pej?
We used to get pissed and pull each other off. Didn't you?
You should've. It was great.
I have a long and varied list of regrets,
Jeremy, but not being pulled off by Pej isn't one of them.
The thing about sex with a guy,
it's like getting your car fixed at the actual dealership.
They've got all the codes. You just plug right in.
I mean, you like blow jobs, don't you, Mark?
I'm eating a Fruit Corner, Jeremy.
Of course you do. But...
what's the most blow jobs you've ever had in one day?
Like in the first happy days of a relationship?
One. Right.
Well, my life now is a 24/7 blow-job bonanza.
I very much regret starting this conversation.
Put it this way.
I'm moving out and I've got a new address for you to forward my post to -
Blow-job City.
Jez, I've got to make a move.
Cool. Um, here's that Beastie Boys CD I was telling you about.
Thanks, but I don't own a CD player.
Oh. Yeah. Well, download the shit out of them.
They're cool. Yeah?
I think they started before I was born, and one of them is dead.
Listen, gotta go. THEY KISS
See you. Bye.
'The gay couple. I live with a gay couple.
'It's political correctness gone normal.'
I really like him, Mark. Do you think it matters
if I'm not young, dumb and full of come?
Oh, no. I mean...
you're older and...
intelligent and full of come. Yeah.
Except I'm not that intelligent,
because I don't really understand almost any of what the news is about,
and I'm not even certain that
I'm full of come. Oh, I'm sure...
'How did I get here?!'
I'm sure you're full of come.
That's nice. Thank you.
So, thank you... 'The one that got away.
'Lovely April.
'But you can't get away from Google, April. Corrigan and Google -
'the maverick detectives who just won't give up.
'Yup, she's just as beautiful as she was when I failed to sleep with her in Darty.
'And she knows a fuckload about the Ottoman Empire.
'If she voices the audiobook,
'then it's, "Look out, St Basil!" because I'm going to buy a box of wet wipes
'and have me a wanky Byzantine party.'
Um, things haven't been great between me and Joe lately.
'Yeah, that will happen when he's busy
'sucking off your life coach.' Maybe we should have a big chat.
And I should just say, like, "Are you ready to commit? Because I am."
What do you think?
No. Oh.
Right. Why not? The point is,
you do your thing, yeah, and let him do his thing.
And don't talk about upsetting shit.
That's the key to happiness.
That's not what I expected you to say. I'm a straight-shooter.
'And I'm fucking your boyfriend.' Time's up, I think.
Oh, right.
I'm going to call him.
'No, don't call him!'
Fuck it, I'm going to lock him out.
'Yeah! Lock him out!'
Do you want to, um...
..stay for a glass of wine?
Er... 'She's sexy,
'artistic, confused... It'd be rude not to!'
'"We studied Ancient History at Dartmouth -
'"but that's all ancient history! Ha-ha-ha!"
'No.'
Thanks for coming. Thank you.
Hi. I love the Ottoman Empire.
I think I feel an affinity because some ingeniously savage children
at my secondary school called me "the sick man of Europe".
Sorry. TMI.
No! I was actually ostracised by
some horrible girls who called me Joan of Snark.
'Two peas in a fucking pod.'
Er, who should I sign it to? Mark. Mark Corrigan.
OK. 'Does she recognise me?
'I should say something.
'Could come clean.
'"You sold me some brogues and I followed you 200 miles
'"and faked being a mature student to see you."'
There you go. Thanks again for coming.
My pleasure. 'This is my chance.
'And I'm doing nothing.
'I am now, this instant,
missing my chance.' Sorry to flout the queueing system
like some syphilitic sultan,
but I just wanted to say that we did actually meet once before.
Years ago, at Dartmouth Uni.
I thought I remembered you! But I wasn't sure...
I transferred from Coventry, then I transferred back again.
It was complicated. I think Bez won Big Brother around then.
Kilroy started Veritas. Crazy times.
I'm rambling. But how would you like to have a glass of wine?
I have to say, this is the first time I've ever betrayed the ethics
of my life-coaching organisation.
Well, it was outside
our coaching window. Yeah. I mean...
I bet it's fine if football coaches have sex with their players, so long as
it's outside the coaching window. Listen, Joe'll be back soon, so...
you should probably go. 'Oh, I'd love to hang out with Joe,
'but maybe tonight isn't the best night.'
I'm going to have to book a double session just to talk this shit through!
'I'm creating my own work! I'm living off my own mess.
'Like when they fed all the cows to the other cows in the '90s
'and we got...what was it? Super-burgers?'
My day job's lecturing at South Thames College.
So this is your secret identity.
Sort of like Indiana Jones. Yes.
I'm very much like Indiana Jones. Except I don't have a whip.
And I ain't afraid of no snakes!
'An Indiana Jones reference mixed with a Ghostbusters reference! I love you,
'April Danecroft.'
I couldn't help noticing that your book's co-written.
That's my husband. 'Shit!'
I still use my maiden name for books.
'Of course. Of course she's married.'
You write together? That sounds like a...
a dream sort of setup. Well, I do all the PR.
And most of the bulk of the writing, too.
'Interesting.' I mean, it's fine.
Angus is so busy with all his...
research. 'Hello, resentment, my old friend.
'I've come to stoke you up again.' Mark,
I don't mean to be weird or anything, but...
did anything happen between us
at one of MacLeish's weird Darty Parties?
No, I-I mean, if I can just search the old memory banks...
'For the moment I replay nightly.'
..we might have had one cuddle once,
but that was about it, as I recall.
Look, it was so great to see you again.
I'd better go. Angus awaits.
'She's leaving. Again. Come on, Mark! Pull your dick from the stone!'
As a matter of fact, I'm having a dinner party tomorrow night.
Ridiculously short notice, I know, but...
Well, I'm free tomorrow.
Although Angus is going to a conference.
Well, why don't you come on your own? It's not like you're chained together.
Or are you?
Not last time I checked. Clank clank.
Tomorrow. It's a date.
I mean, that is the date on which it shall happen.
Great. 'Yes! Olympus has fallen.
'Now all I have to do is cook a meal so delicious she will make love to me.
'Such as...cheesy pasta.'
Jez, don't forget your phone!
BLENDER WHIRS
I thought you were going to the cinema
with Joe. Whatever.
It'll start with half an hour of adverts
which everyone sits through like obedient disciples
of the capitalist dictatorship. What the hell are you even doing?
I'm making hummus. Making hummus, he says,
like it's perfectly natural. No-one makes hummus.
It's only hummus, Jeremy. What are you going to do next?
Start making your own pasta? As a matter of fact,
I have made my own pasta. Jesus, Mark.
Jamie Oliver and Sainsbury's make the food. We eat the food.
April from Darty's coming over, as it happens.
The girl from the shoe shop?
You finally tracked her down and you're luring her back to your lair
to eat her with pasta.
It isn't a lair, it's my flat!
And my sole subterfuge
is that she thinks she's coming to a dinner party.
But I've got a feeling that the other guests may cancel at the last minute.
Naughty, unreliable guests.
Finally I'm rubbing off on you. Jez,
I think she might actually be my perfect woman.
She's a serious academic historian
who got my joke about Indiana Jones!
She just texted, saying, "Professor Jones has her whip ready."
I think it's probably the sexiest text
anyone has ever received! Wow.
You should go the full Indy. "I love you," on the eyelids.
LAUGHING Brilliant.
But far too mad.
Go on! It'll be hilarious!
I was thinking, "How can I turn up the heat?"
I could blink at her as she came through the door.
More than hilarious. It would be a hoot!
It would be a bit of a hoot, wouldn't it?
But it's the sort of thing you'd think about but never actually do.
Not on my watch!
Come on. You've tracked down the love of your life. Go for it!
NERVOUS LAUGHTER
No, Jez! Yes, Mark.
This is what real friends are for.
Making you do brilliant things that you'd never do otherwise.
This is how the El Dude Brothers roll.
God.
Right, then, hold still. Come on, Mark.
Oh!
This is crazy! You're mental!
How does it look?
DOORBELL RINGS
Oh, my God! Why would she be here so early?
I haven't even finished pureeing the chickpeas!
Megan. Hey, Jezebel.
Got off work early. Thought I'd see how it's hanging.
'Oh, no! Joe in the bedroom, Megan in the hallway!
'I'm playing Genital Jenga!'
Good to see you.
It's just... Megan.
Joe. Megan!
Joe popped over. What a fun coincidence.
Are you having a coaching session, or...?
No, he came round for a friendly visit.
Why? Do you have a coaching session booked?
No, no, no. These are both just friendly, coincidental visits.
'How lucky and brilliant.
'This party needs to break up fast.
'How? Fire? Use a lighter to start a little fire in the hall?'
I'll be in in a minute.
There we go.
Four and a half hours of tears and sweat and pain
and it will, if I'm lucky,
taste almost as nice as a slice of freshly buttered toast.
'OK, let's get the fuck out. A run?' PHONE RINGS
'Yeah, let's go for a totally normal Saturday night three-person run.'
April.
Dr Jones, I presume. Just whipping up a feast.
'Hi, Mark. I'm really sorry.
'Angus isn't going to his conference tonight after all.
'Is it OK if we both come to the dinner party?'
'No way.'
No problemo, amigo. Hasta la vista.
'Spanish? Has the stress turned me entirely Spanish?'
'I promise we're house-trained.
'We'll fit right along in with your other guests.'
Er, of course.
They... They won't mind. They're very relaxed, the other guests.
One more person at the dinner party.
No big deal.
'Thanks so much, and sorry for the short notice.'
'See you in 30.' Adios.
'Oh! Utterly fucked and unaccountably Spanish.'
Can you smell... HE SNIFFS
..like, smoke? Um... No. No?
Maybe I'm not feeling very well. Perhaps you guys should...
Hi there. I know you've probably got plans tonight,
but I insist you all stay for a delicious feast.
That might not be so convenient.
Well, that's as it may be, but I'm afraid I insist.
Joe, Megan, it is going to be amazing. You must stay.
Er... Wonderful.
What the hell are you doing?
I'm sorry, but I need backup.
Angus is coming. April's husband.
You didn't mention the husband, you dark, filthy, dirty horse.
Yes, well, she's got a husband and, in 30 minutes, he'll want some dinner.
I need to bulk out.
Lettuce!
Bulky...lettuce? They'll bring wine, but we need booze.
Where's the rum? Get the rum, make a cocktail.
What cocktail? Any-fucking-thing.
Rum and water, rum and milk. Chop some parsley into it.
They're all basically horrible. It's action stations!
Fuck! How quickly can you get to Mr Patel's and back?
Mr Patel's? Austerity cornflakes and Latvian feta?
Look, here we go.
Beans. Everyone likes beans. I can't serve baked beans.
Beans are pasta sauce. Beans are not pasta sauce!
They're...tomato-y.
Ketchup is tomato-y.
That's not a pasta sauce. It is when I make pasta.
What the hell are you doing? I-I'm picking the beans out.
With your disgusting human fingers?
Mashed. I can mash them.
Right, we're getting somewhere.
Cooking's all about confidence.
I'm just going to mix it all together.
I need to go Nigella. I'm going to be the Hairy Biker.
That's not Nigella. That's not even Ainsley, mate.
How about some lovely filling lettuce?
What are you doing?! I'm improvising.
'Good. It's like Who's Pasta Is It Anyway, yeah?'
How old are these? I don't know. They're always good,
eggs, aren't they?
Till they hatch.
Are they? Yeah?
You know what? Maybe it's fine. Is it...Moroccan?
Maybe it is Moroccan.
'Yeah, Morocco. Anything goes in Morocco.'
Right, OK! I like it that way. They can't prove otherwise.
Fuck them. Exactly.
That's the dinner-party spirit. Fuck them all!
HE LAUGHS NERVOUSLY Listen, Mark.
The pasta will be fine. It'll all be fine.
Do you think? Absolutely.
HE SIGHS Although I would recommend
getting rid of the love message on your eyes.
Oh, my God. I forgot!
Oh, my God! 'Urgh, lid scour.'
Is it coming off? Is it coming off? Not exactly.
Jeremy, did you use permanent marker?
I might have used permanent marker.
I'm going to have to bleach my eyes.
Good idea. Although...
eyes, bleach - is that a bad one?
I'm going to have to keep my eyes open all night. Is that possible?
I can do this. I can do this all night.
DOORBELL RINGS 'Oh, I can't do this.'
'Don't blink, don't blink.' Hi, Mark.
Hi, April.
This is Angus.
'Just got to keep my eyes firmly open.
'That's the most important thing.' I brought you some chocolates
instead of wine, cos everyone always brings wine, don't they?
Oh... Lovely.
'That'll be one bottle of wine between six, then. Perfect(!)'
So, you and April were at Dartmouth together?
Yes. Briefly.
'Almost unbearable urge to blink.
'Ahh! Lovely, lovely blink.
'Enjoy it. Last one of the night.'
Shall we go through?
Help yourself to hummus.
It's freshly made and, if I say so myself, quite delicious.
'Unlike the rest of the meal.' Cocktail?
'Mm, rum, water, lettuce, vinegar and the secret ingredient - salt.'
April said you were off to a conference.
Yes. Date mix-up.
But I think April will be able to join me.
I'm actually talking tomorrow
on transcultural memory in the Ottoman Empire.
'Oh, look who's won the lettuce lottery.'
Wow, this is, um... It's Moroccan. I love it.
It... It's quite subtle.
'Blink impulse off the scale and drink disgusting.'
Um... I might take it slow, leave some for your other guests.
Good idea. I'll just go and see where the other guests have got to.
KNOCK ON DOOR
OK, can you haul in the mannequins, the normalisers?
Also, Megan, would you happen to have a small make-up bag about your person?
'Oh, my God. Yeah, that'll work.'
Yeah? Yeah, mate.
Do I claim fancy dress or go full English,
button down, hope they don't mention? Look,
you probably need to know, Joe thinks Megan's fucking around on him
and Megan thinks Joe's fucking around on her.
Right. God. And...
I happen to know that they're both right.
Because I've sort of ended up sleeping with both of them.
You're humping them both? To be honest, it's getting quite tiring.
Especially when I have to do them both in one day.
Oh, that must be really hard. I'm so sorry for you, Jez(!)
Uh, uh... Eh-heh-heh-heh.
Uh, uh, uh, eh-heh-heh-heh.
Yeah.
On the plus side, she's fucking around on him and he's fucking around on her.
So, if they find out about each other
then I don't see that they can make much of a fuss.
Well, you can't fuck them both, I'm afraid.
That's not how civilisation works.
'Civilisation, schmivilisation.'
Did Maggie mention that she's actually an artist?
It's Megan. Oh, of course!
Maggie's just a nickname.
That she hates. Are you wearing eyeshadow, Mark?
Er, yes. That's s-something I'm doing.
I-I understood it was the fashion, but, uh, I may have been misinformed.
'Serve up, move on.'
So, you two are writing a book together?
I do the bulk of the writing,
but Angus's ideas are what the book's built on.
April's doing herself a disservice.
She's the real historian of the two of us.
I think of myself more as a...
as a theologian, really.
The Holy Roman Empire is a guilty pleasure... 'He's very decent.
'Very wholesome.
'How can I steal his wife?' These aren't fashionable subjects.
All above our heads.
Especially yours, eh, Jez?
LAUGHTER 'Ah, yeah, that's right.
'Always rely on Jez for a chuckle. I'll show them.'
Can I ask you a question, Angus, of a theological nature?
I'll see what I can do. Did Jesus have...
a cat?
I wouldn't have thought personal pets in the sense that we...
If you don't know, just say. Well...
I do find it interesting that all you pointy-heads,
living inside your Westminster bubble... I'm not a politician.
People like you in your ivory towers,
who are like, who gives a fuck about the real issues...?
The issue of whether Jesus had a cat?
HE CLEARS HIS THROAT Do dig in.
What is it? Um... It's Moroccan.
Like my eyeshadow.
Tastes like baked beans on spaghetti with lettuce.
I'd hate to call you a racist at my dinner party,
but I think it's a little more sophisticated than that.
It's from the Atlas Mountains.
'This is a disaster. Joe thinks I'm an idiot. I'm not an idiot.
'I'm Paxman.'
To be honest, er, I've never really got it about Jesus.
I mean, apart from all the Christian stuff, what did Jesus actually do?
What did Jesus do... apart from Christianity?
Yeah, put that aside. The moral universe we all live in?
I'm not knocking the guy.
I'm just saying, you know, apart from that, what did he actually achieve?
You know, I'm not saying I like him, but at least Hitler did some paintings.
If you're comparing Hitler and Jesus, I'm afraid I'm out.
'Ooh, hello!
'Naughty, naughty Megan.
'Am I betraying Joe or Megan more?
'I like him loads, but I'm her life coach.
'What the fuck?
'Joe? No, don't cross the streams.
'Shit!' What the hell?
I, um... That was actually Mark's foot.
He does that sometimes for laughs.
What?
Put your foot in my groin under the table.
No, I don't. Mark's got his shoes on.
He's quick. He slips them on and off.
It's part of our flirty, dirty game.
I have no idea what he's talking about.
'There goes a valuable glassful.'
- What's going on? - What's going on?!
My boyfriend is fucking my life coach. No, Megan.
Can we talk about this, please? 'Oh, brilliant.
'Freak-show sideshow at the shit-show.'
What the fuck were you doing?
What was I doing? What the fuck were you doing?
I might leave them to it.
'Ohh, the Corrigan stare.
'The full Paddington.'
I need a cigarette. Has anyone got a cigarette?
I thought you'd given up.
I thought things, you thought things.
Turns out, people can surprise you.
'Hello!'
Go on. Fine. Choke yourself.
At least I tell you when I'm breaking a promise.
'Stop actually rubbing my hands.'
Sorry, it's just a... bit of a flashback to Corfu.
Corfu? Er, it's nothing.
Not nothing.
When we were in Corfu last summer, we had a little relationship trouble.
I'm sure all's well now. I-I don't want to pry.
'Wheedle, wheedle, pry and needle.'
We've had counselling, we've dealt with the issues, we've moved on.
But the wounds are still there.
That can happen with wounds. It can be good to give them a good...
inspection now and again.
As a penance, I went to live with the monks on Mount Athos for three months.
Ten weeks.
Ten weeks, whatever.
Apparently, he lived on nothing but dry bread and goat's milk.
But when I picked him up, there were a lot of Nutella jars in his recycling.
I know, and I'm sorry.
I can be weak.
Weak how exactly, Angus?
You don't have to achieve sainthood.
Just, ooh, try not to fuck anyone else.
'This is amazing.
'So uncomfortable.
'This could be my night of greatest triumph.
'If we weren't all about to die from eating these poisonous eggs.'
For the cheese course, I have a soft cheese...
'Dairylea moulded together with my bare hands.'
..plus a tasty young Stilton. Ingenious. But totally mental.
'Out of bread and crackers.
'Just need to state it with conviction.'
It's time for cheese and lettuce. 'Most natural combination in the world.'
So, we've got good news. We're going to make a go of it.
We're looking at the possibility of moving forward as a three.
Becoming a...triangle.
A very respectful, very boundaried, rather horny triangle.
With guidelines.
Three-ism.
Th... Three-ism?
Well, I think it's great you're trying to approach the situation
in the most adult way possible.
My God. Is that what you want?
To give it a go with her and me in some kind of triangle?
'Oh, Angus. You just can't seem to say the right thing, you lovely arsehole.'
HE SIGHS I'm sorry this all happened here.
'Just very sensitively shut her in.'
I am upset. It's obviously still a bit raw.
But I do still love him.
Of course. Of course you do.
Can you tell him I need to talk to him? 'Maybe I will, April.
'Although you might have picked a slightly corrupt postman.'
OK, I mean, this is very exciting,
but I might need to make a move home, so, Joe...
Oh, I thought Joe was staying here tonight,
um...according to the guidelines.
No, it's Saturday, so it's a Joe and Megan night.
Right, but you spent last night together.
Um... "On no two consecutive nights shall..." Et cetera, et cetera.
Yeah, but you two already fucked today. It's my turn for a go on Joe.
Oh, OK.
Well, then, yeah, I mean, I guess it's up to Joe.
Is it? Is there a rule for...?
Oh, this is fucking bullshit!
ANGUS CLEARS HIS THROAT
What did she say? Look,
don't shoot the messenger, but April said she...
doesn't want to speak to you.
She loves you, but she's not sure she likes you.
Right. 'Naughty postman.
'Drink down my lies, Angus.
'They taste good, don't they?'
Is this Ribena?
Yes, it's Ribena. I'm an alcoholic.
I'm a complicated guy with a complicated past.
Like you and April.
Why did you have to sleep with her? I'm right here!
Oh, everything was all right when you were humping two people,
but when I started, that's not allowed?
No, no, you knew we were humping when we humped.
You kept Megan a secret because you like her more than me.
Admit it.
No! I won't fucking admit it, because it's not true.
Angus loves you, but...he doesn't know if he respects you.
April... I was just explaining.
I-I think I got it right, that...
I need some space to think.
Uh-huh. That's wise.
I understand. I'll go.
'That's right, off you fuck.'
April, if you like, there's a B&B nearby,
or I can take the sofa and you can...
That's kind, Mark, but I want to go home.
Gus, do you mind staying here? Of course.
Let's talk anon.
Bye, Mark.
And thank you.
Great. She's gone and I'm left with the Jesus lunk who, because of manners,
I can't simply push out the window. For God's sake, this is pathetic.
I never asked you to fight over me. Get off!
Yeah, the fighting phase seems to be ending, actually.
Oh, for fuck's sake!
Thank you, Mark, for letting me stay. You're a good man.
I feel like I want to talk.
You know, really talk, about...
sin and man and God and love
and the mystery of the Trinity.
Right.
Yes? 'Yep, let's sit here, me and my make-up,
'and drink vinegar and lettuce and rum and eat moulded Dairylea
'and scribbled Cheddar and talk it all through for ever,
'while those two gently hump in the corner.'