FLEABAG

Episode 3.5
 Previously On Fleabag

Fleabag’s guinea-pig themed cafe is facing liquidation.

She was rejected for a small-business loan, and needs
£5,000 to remain solvent. She opened the cafe with her
best friend, Boo, who accidentally killed herself by
walking into traffic. She recently broke up with her on
again/off again boyfriend, Harry.

Her sister Claire is waiting to hear back about a job

promotion which would move her to Finland. At Claire’s
birthday party, her husband, Martin, kissed Fleabag,
who plainly rejected him. She hasn’t told Claire about
this.
 2.

COLD OPEN

INT. KARAOKE BAR - NIGHT

Fleabag sits alone at a table, with a glass of wine. Bon

Jovi’s ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’ is audible, but not prominent.

FLEABAG
(To camera)
I met the most disgustingly hot man
for drinks tonight. I mean, just
sinfully attractive. And as soon as
we left the bar, he looked deep
into my eyes and said-

EXT. STREET - NIGHT - FLASHBACK

Fleabag and the hot man (Karaoke Guy) face each other.

KARAOKE GUY
I want to do something with you
that I would never ordinarily do on
a first date. I don’t know what it
is about you, but I feel like you
could handle it. So, what do you
think? You down for a little fun?

INT. KARAOKE BAR - BACK TO SCENE

FLEABAG
(To camera)
Assuming we were on the same page
about wanting to go back to his
flat and mutually masturbate to
completion over still photos of Tom
Selleck’s moustache, I agreed. This
was, unfortunately, a wild
misinterpretation.

Reveal: She’s in a fairly busy karaoke bar. Karaoke Guy

stands at the front of the room, on the microphone, giving a
passionate performance.

FLEABAG (CONT’D)
(To camera)
It’s the sexual equivalent of the
stock market crash. How can anyone,
in good conscience, have sex with
someone that just gave a sincere
performance of ‘Livin’ on a Prayer’
to an audience predominantly
comprised of unenthusiastic office
workers and over-enthusiastic hen
party attendees?
 3.

He stretches his hand out to her, feeling the song. She

responds with a ‘finger gun’ motion, waits until he looks
away, then takes a deep gulp of her wine.

FLEABAG (CONT’D)
(To camera)
And if I do have sex with him, how
can I make it clear that it was not
because of this experience? Maybe
because he’s so hot, no one’s been
able to admit to him that this is
an awful move.
(Beat)
Honestly, he’s just being
irresponsible.

The song ends, people applaud. Karaoke Guy returns to sit

next to her, out of breath.

KARAOKE GUY
What a rush! Wow. What did you
think?

FLEABAG
Yeah, great! Good job!

KARAOKE GUY
It feels so good just to let it all
out, now I can relax.
(Beat)
So come on, what are you going to
pick?

FLEABAG
Me? Oh, no. I couldn’t follow that!

KARAOKE GUY
Go on! Or we can do a duet, if you
like?

FLEABAG
(To camera)
I am barely hanging on.
(To Karaoke Guy)
No, no, I’m fine, honestly. I’m
really more of a listener.

KARAOKE GUY
Have you never done karaoke before?

INT. FLEABAG’S FLAT - NIGHT - FLASHBACK

Fleabag and Boo dance around the living room. They sing along
to Whitney Houston’s ‘I Wanna Dance With Somebody’, but their
version is drunk, loud and bad.
 4.

INT. KARAOKE BAR - BACK TO SCENE

FLEABAG
Not in public.

KARAOKE GUY
Come on, you’ll love it.

FLEABAG
Or we could just go back to mine?

Karaoke Guy smirks.

KARAOKE GUY
I knew it. Something told me you
couldn’t resist the Jon Bon.

Fleabag laughs politely, then quickly finishes her wine. They

both stand up, Fleabag gathers her bag and straightens
jacket.

FLEABAG
(To camera)
Look at him!
(Beat)
Shut up.

END OF COLD OPEN

 5.

INT. FLEABAG’S FLAT - DAY

The following morning, Fleabag wakes up in bed, alone. She

looks over to see if the other half of the bed is empty,
pleased to see that it is. She lies back down for a moment,
then shrugs at the camera. She puts her right arm under the
duvet and slides it downwards to start masturbating.

Almost immediately, there’s a knock on the bedroom door. She

jumps and flings her arm back into view as the door opens.
Karaoke Guy takes a step in to the room, on the phone to
someone. She props herself up, and tries to look casual.

KARAOKE GUY
Are you free this afternoon?

FLEABAG
I can be.
(To camera)
If he suggests daytime karaoke, I
will scream.

KARAOKE GUY
Brilliant.
(To the phone)
That’s great. She’ll see you then.
Thanks. Bye.

FLEABAG
Who was that?

KARAOKE GUY
Remember I told you about my
sister?

FLEABAG
(To camera)
Made a ridiculous amount of money
in a tech start-up, and, as he kept
repeating, she’s not even thirty.
Truly sounds like one of those over-
achieving women you eventually have
to cut out of your life because you
can’t handle the shame of being
around them, assuming they haven’t
already cut you out of theirs for
the exact same reason.
(To Karaoke Guy)
I think so. The businesswoman?

KARAOKE GUY
That’s the one. She’s been looking
to invest in young, entrepreneurial
women, I think you might be right
fit. I’ve set up a meeting for you.

Fleabag pauses with an unwavering smile, unsure of how to

take this news.
 6.

FLEABAG
Wow. I mean, yeah, that’s great!
Thank you!

KARAOKE GUY
You’re welcome.

FLEABAG
And it won’t be weird that she’s
looking for young women and I’m
older than her?

Beat.

KARAOKE GUY
You’re older than her?

FLEABAG
Didn’t you say she was twenty-nine?

KARAOKE GUY
Yeah?
(Beat)
Yeah, uh, no it’ll be fine. I’ve
left all the details in a note on
your kitchen bench. And, uh...
You’re really over thirty?

Fleabag nods.

KARAOKE GUY (CONT’D)

Wow. Well, you don’t look your age.

FLEABAG
How old do you think I look?

KARAOKE GUY
You know, I’ve actually got to run.
Last night was great. Best of luck
with Natasha!

He quickly leaves her room. Fleabag slumps back into her

pillows. We hear footsteps, and the door to her flat opening
and slamming shut.

INT. CAFE - DAY - FLASHBACK

Boo sits at the table in the window, playing with Hillary,

the guinea-pig. Fleabag is standing, very worked up.

FLEABAG
But I haven’t spoken to her in
years! And now she wants to swoop
in and sort my life out? I don’t
want her help, I don’t need her
help.
 7.

BOO
She’s just being nice. You’re
reading it all wrong.

Fleabag sits down opposite Boo. She gets her phone out and
reads the message she received.

FLEABAG
“Saw you opened a cafe. If you need
any advice, I still have my masters
in business studies - sorry, I
can’t remember what your degree
was. I recently helped launch the
Splooge Juice Company, if you want
to see what I can do. Don’t be
afraid to reach out.”

Boo takes the phone, and reads it again in a lighter way.

BOO
“Saw you opened a cafe! If you need
any advice, I still have my masters
in business studies-”

Boo winks exaggeratedly.

FLEABAG
No, you can’t editorialise a wink!

BOO
But it’s a joke! Why would they
have taken her masters away?

FLEABAG
If that’s what she thinks a joke
is, then I don’t trust her advice.

BOO
People aren’t always arseholes on
purpose. Sometimes they mean well.
(Beat)
But, obviously, fuck her advice,
she helped launch a juice company
called Splooge.

Fleabag laughs loudly.

INT. FLEABAG’S FLAT - BACK TO SCENE

Fleabag sighs deeply, then finds her resolve.

FLEABAG
(To camera)
Hardly in a position to turn down
the offer of money. Even if it
comes from a woman who isn’t about
to be put out to pasture.
 8.

EXT. STREET - DAY

Fleabag, dressed smartly and looking self-assured, walks down

the street.

FLEABAG
(To camera)
Okay, feeling good. I am a
confident business woman, perfectly
prepared to beg for money from the
affluent sister of a man who I am
almost certain owns at least one
pair of leather trousers, and best
of all, I have time to spare. All I
have to do is stay calm, focus on
saving my cafe, and not get
distracted.
(Beat)
Haven’t heard from Claire since her
birthday. But that’s normal.
Nothing to be concerned about.
(Beat)
Wonder if she’s found out about her
Finland promotion.
(Beat)
Wonder if Martin told her that the
gift he gave her is actually a
sculpture I secretly stole from our
godmother. And also that he tried
to kiss me at her birthday party.

EXT. CLAIRE’S PATIO - NIGHT - FLASHBACK

A scene from the previous episode: Fleabag visibly recoils as

Martin tries to kiss her.

EXT. STREET - BACK TO SCENE

FLEABAG
(To camera)
No, I probably would have heard
from her. Unless, of course, he did
tell her, and she responded by
telling him she’s finally leaving
him, and he became so enraged that
he beat her to death. But I don’t
think Martin’s capable of doing
something that sexy.
(Beat)
That was a joke. I will tell her.
I’m going to tell her. About all of
it - the sculpture, the kiss,
everything. I just can’t do it now,
because of this meeting.
(MORE)
 9.

FLEABAG (CONT'D)
I need to put it all out of my
mind, because I definitely do not
have time to deal with the
emotional fallout that-

EXT. CLAIRE’S HOUSE - DAY

Claire opens the front door to see Fleabag standing on the

doorstep, smiling brightly.

FLEABAG
Hi!
(To camera)
See, she’s fine.

CLAIRE
What’s wrong?

FLEABAG
I’m here to plan your next surprise
party!

CLAIRE
What?!

FLEABAG
I’m joking. Although you do seem
surprised!

CLAIRE
Why are you actually here?

FLEABAG
I need to talk to you about
something. Is Martin-

Martin comes up behind Claire to see who’s at the door. He

sees Fleabag, and puts his arm round Claire to reinforce
their partnership.

FLEABAG (CONT’D)
He is in. Perfect.

MARTIN
And to what do we owe the pleasure
of seeing you this morning, all
shiny and bright like Louis
Armstrong’s strumpet?

FLEABAG
Good one.

CLAIRE
She needs to talk to me,
apparently.
 10.

FLEABAG
Yes, I do.
(Beat)
Did I leave my hat at your party
the other night?

CLAIRE
What hat?

FLEABAG
My beanie hat. I can’t find it,
wasn’t sure if I left it here.

CLAIRE
You weren’t wearing a hat.

FLEABAG
Pretty sure I was.

CLAIRE
No, I definitely would have
remembered if you were wearing that
ratty, old, beanie hat. Especially
to my birthday party. You could
have just texted me about this, you
didn’t need to come over.

MARTIN
But then we wouldn’t have got to
see her in all her morning glory!

Fleabag pauses for a second, frustrated by Martin’s presence.

FLEABAG
You’re right. I actually came to
tell you not to worry about the
cafe, or me. I’m on my way to a
meeting with a potential investor.

CLAIRE
Really? But that’s great news! Why
didn’t you just say so?

FLEABAG
Bragging felt beneath me.
(To camera)
No way she believes that - I still
brag about how I was one of the
five girls whose arse was groped by
our school’s P.E. teacher. He was
later fired. But still, top five.

Claire frowns, but continues.

CLAIRE
And you’re sure they’re a
legitimate investor? How did you
find them?
 11.

INT. KARAOKE BAR - NIGHT - FLASHBACK

Karaoke Guy sings his heart out into the microphone.

EXT. CLAIRE’S HOUSE - BACK TO SCENE

FLEABAG
Networking.

MARTIN
So it’s some guy you fucked.

Claire speaks before Fleabag can retaliate.

CLAIRE
(To Martin)
Could you give us a moment, please?

Martin holds his hands up to show his innocence, but retreats

into the house.

FLEABAG
To his credit, it would be nice if
they all started contributing.

CLAIRE
I’m sure. This meeting could be
really good. I hope it goes well.

FLEABAG
Thanks.

CLAIRE
You’re sure that’s all you wanted
to say?

Beat.

FLEABAG
Yes.

CLAIRE
Well. Best of luck.

FLEABAG
(To camera)
She’s resisting the urge to tell me
not to fuck this up.

Fleabag smiles expectantly at Claire as they stand in

silence.

CLAIRE
Anything else?

FLEABAG
No.
 12.

INT. NATASHA’S OFFICE - DAY

Fleabag sits in front of an organised desk, in a clean,

modern office. On the other side of the desk sits a woman -
Natasha - who is typing quickly on her laptop. She’s very
well put together, and gives off an air of power and
efficiency.

On the wall to Fleabag’s right hang a series of three fine-

art photographs, each showing a naked person tied up with
ropes, their bodies suspended to create beautiful geometric
patters. Fleabag can’t take her eyes off them.

Natasha shuts her laptop lid, and Fleabag quickly looks away
from the photos. She notes Natasha’s commanding presence and
sits up a little straighter in her chair.

NATASHA
Sorry about that, small crisis
averted.

FLEABAG
No problem. Thank you for seeing
me!

NATASHA
You’re welcome. So!

Natasha gestures at Fleabag to begin. Fleabag smiles politely

back.

FLEABAG
(Agreeing)
So.

Beat.

NATASHA
Sorry, you have a pitch for me?

FLEABAG
Oh, no. Yes. Sorry. Right. Well, I
run a local, independent, guinea-
pig themed cafe. It’s been open for
a few years and has been quite a
successful business, but recently
it’s been suffering a financial
downturn due to-
(To camera)
The guinea-pig novelty not being
sufficient enough to stop it being
known as a death cafe-
(To Natasha)
The recession, mostly.

NATASHA
Didn’t the recession end?
 13.

FLEABAG
Did it ever, really?

NATASHA
Hmm. Fair enough.

Natasha fiddles with a pen for a moment, avoiding Fleabag’s

eye contact. Fleabag looks pleased that her bluff worked.

NATASHA (CONT’D)
Listen, I’m really sorry to have to
say this, especially with you
having come all the way over here,
but this type of venture isn’t
really what I’m looking to invest
in. I’m mainly focussing on digital
and software based products.

FLEABAG
Oh, well then I’d love to tell you
about my idea for a guinea-pig
themed dating app!

NATASHA
Brilliant! Please do!

FLEABAG
Oh, no. Sorry, that was a joke.
(Uncomfortable beat)
Anyway, yes, that’s completely
fine, I understand. Thank you for
meeting with me regardless.

NATASHA
No, thank you for coming in! I’m
really sorry about all of this - I
should have called first to
confirm. I was told you were
running a virtual guinea-pig cafe,
Nathan must have got his wires
crossed somewhere.

FLEABAG
(To camera)
Bon bloody Jovi.
(To Natasha)
He probably thought the idea was so
ridiculous that he subconsciously
added the word virtual to make
sense of it.

Natasha laughs.

NATASHA
Maybe!

Fleabag laughs along, although visibly insulted.

 14.

NATASHA (CONT’D)
Well, anyway. Best of luck.

FLEABAG
Thank you, you too.

Fleabag stands up, and glances at the pictures one last time.

FLEABAG (CONT’D)
Sorry, I just have to ask, what are
these pictures of?

NATASHA
They’re photographs from a Shibari
artist, it’s erotic art based on
ancient Japanese rope bondage.

FLEABAG
They’re fascinating.

NATASHA
I agree! I’ve have some experience
with the physical side of it, but
I’ve always loved the art that
comes from it. I’m glad you like
them, there’s actually an event on
tomorrow night, if you’re
interested in going.

FLEABAG
Yes please!

Natasha is briefly but clearly taken aback.

FLEABAG (CONT’D)
(To camera)
Shit. She was being polite. Shit.

NATASHA
Oh, well then great! Great, I’ll
message you and let you know the
details.

FLEABAG
Great! Okay. Well. Thank you. I’ll
see you then.

She leaves the office.

INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE NATASHA’S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS

Fleabag walks away from the office, down the corridor.

 15.

FLEABAG
(To camera)
Well, I didn’t get the money I need
to save the cafe, but at least I
get to attend an erotic rope
bondage night with a woman who does
not want me there, and must also
logically assume that I think all
business ideas have to somehow
incorporate guinea-pigs.

INT. CAFE - DAY

The cafe is empty, except for Fleabag. She is sat on her

stool behind the counter, using her phone to look at pictures
of Shibari.

The door opens, causing her to nearly drop her phone. She
hurriedly places it face down on the counter, and stands up.
A hipster-type guy enters, looking around, judgmentally.
Fleabag greets him with an exaggerated smile.

FLEABAG
Hi there. What can I get for you?

HIPSTER GUY
Yeah, hi. What kind of coffee do
you serve here?

FLEABAG
Black, white, cappuccino, latte-

HIPSTER GUY
No, sorry, I mean where are your
beans from?

FLEABAG
Oh, just Tesco.

He stares at her, not amused. Realising that her answer was

wrong, she gives a fake laugh.

FLEABAG (CONT’D)
(To camera, not smiling)
Jesus Christ.
(To Hipster Guy, smiling)
No, of course, they’re from an
independent supplier. I believe
it’s a blend from Costa Rica.
Fairtrade. Rich and dark.

HIPSTER GUY
That’ll have to do. Can I get a
large soy milk cappuccino, dry,
with a half pump of hazelnut syrup
to take away, please.
 16.

Fleabag looks like she’d rather be anywhere else.

FLEABAG
Certainly! That’ll be thirteen
pounds, please.
(Off his reaction)
Fairtrade.

He fumbles in his pockets for change. Fleabag walks to the

coffee machine, ensures she’s out of his eye line, then picks
up an empty takeaway cup. She bumps it around to make a
little noise.

FLEABAG (CONT’D)
(Announcing)
One half pump of hazelnut syrup.

She places the empty cup under the spout of the coffee
machine, then fills up a jug of soy milk, puts the milk
steamer in it, and starts the machine.

She returns to the counter, takes Hipster Guy’s money, and

rings it through the till.

FLEABAG (CONT’D)
Thank you.

HIPSTER GUY
Do you have wifi here?

FLEABAG
Not currently.

HIPSTER GUY
Oh, that’s great. I love that.
Everyone’s on their phones all the
time, it’s like, when did we all
stop speaking to each other?

FLEABAG
Yes, exactly.

The two of them stand in silence.

The sound of the coffee machine slowly fills the void.

Fleabag returns to it, turns off the steamer, and adds the
milk to the cup. She secures a lid onto it, then returns to
Hipster Guy and places it on the counter in front of him.

HIPSTER GUY
Is this mine?

Beat.

FLEABAG
Yes. One large soy milk cappuccino
with a half pump of hazelnut syrup.
 17.

HIPSTER GUY
Dry?

She smiles to hide her obliviousness.

FLEABAG
Of course.

HIPSTER GUY
Great. Thanks.

He takes the coffee, turns, and leaves the cafe. Fleabag

drops her smile as soon as the door shuts, and slumps back
onto her stool. She picks her phone up and continues to
scroll through the images, then changes her mind and puts it
back down.

FLEABAG
(To camera)
I’ve never really delved that far
into BDSM. Well, at least not with
Harry. Once when we were having
sex, I told him to spank me. He was
so panicked by the request that he
punched me. Just walloped me,
square in the bum cheek. It wasn’t
even that bad, it kind of worked,
but he was mortified. Kept making
weird apologetic gestures, like-

INT. FLEABAG’S KITCHEN - DAY - FLASHBACK

Harry and Fleabag are sat opposite each other at her kitchen
table. She has his laptop open, he is reading the paper.

FLEABAG
Do you want another slice of-

Harry jumps out of chair before she can finish her question.

HARRY
No, please, let me. You sit.

She looks slyly proud of herself.

INT. CAFE - BACK TO SCENE

FLEABAG
(To camera)
We didn’t really get much kinkier
than that. I once dated a guy who
just wanted me to wear heels all
the time.
 18.

INT. FLEABAG’S FLAT - NIGHT - FLASHBACK

Fleabag is sat up in bed, with her legs stretched out and

crossed over at the ankle. She’s wearing an oversized T-
shirt, sweatpants and high heels, and eating a slice of a
large, greasy pizza. As she takes a bite, a glob of cheese
falls onto her T-shirt. Still chewing, she looks at it for a
moment, then picks it up and adds it to her mouth.
She uncrosses and recrosses her legs, trying to make the
heels feel more comfortable.

INT. CAFE - BACK TO SCENE

FLEABAG
(To camera)
I thought he wanted it to be all
lingerie and endless seduction, but
nope. Just as long as I was wearing
heels. He also liked to gag me,
which I think started as a fetish
and then became a convenience for
him.

She looks at the guinea-pig pictures on the wall, subdued.

FLEABAG (CONT’D)
(To camera)
Guinea-pigs have to be among the
least sexy animals. At least
gerbils and hamsters have the
reputation of being used in rectal
play, even if that is just a myth.
No one’s ever started a provocative
rumour about guinea-pigs.
(Beat)
Maybe I should. Maybe it’ll help
business.

Her phone vibrates on the counter. She picks it up, reading

the text she received.

FLEABAG (CONT’D)
(To camera)
Natasha, with the details for
tonight. We’re still going ahead
with this.
(Beat)
Hmm. Not the location I would have
expected.
 19.

INT. PUB - NIGHT

Fleabag enters a busy, typical pub - Victorian style

architecture, a threadbare outdated carpet, tables with
throngs of people sat around them, wall-mounted flat-screen
TVs showing football. The bar itself is littered with
clusters of men, mostly middle aged, all nursing pints.

Fleabag spots a doorway with a sign fastened above it,

stating ‘FUNCTION ROOM’ and a vertical arrow.

FLEABAG
(To camera)
Can’t back out now.

She takes a few confident strides towards the doorway, then

makes a sharp turn in the opposite direction, walking towards
the bar.

INT. PUB - NIGHT

We see Fleabag finish downing whatever spirit she ordered,

then slam the empty glass back on the bar. She winces from
the alcohol, and takes a breath to steady herself.

FLEABAG
(To camera)
Okay. Can’t back out now.

INT. FUNCTION ROOM - NIGHT

Fleabag opens the door to the function room, and steps

inside. The space is quite cramped, with a low ceiling, with
the sound of background chatter.

At the far end of the room is a slightly raised stage. Three

people are setting up easels and arranging desks on it.

On the floor sit three women - they each have a partner

binding them with ropes into different positions. They look
slightly contorted, but they’re in full communication with
their partner, so it’s clear they’re comfortable and enjoying
themselves. In one corner is a crate filled with ropes.

The ceiling of the room has a rigging system made up of

sturdy wooden beams, each with straps hanging from them. Two
women, already bound, are each being hoisted up by two men,
with a third fastening them to the straps. Another woman,
already secured to the rigging but hanging quite freely, is
performing aerial acrobatics - tieing herself up in her rope
then gracefully spiralling downwards, holding gymnastic
poses.

All the women are wearing gym wear - some in leggings and
tank tops, others in shorts and sports bras, baring as much
as they want to while putting comfort first.
 20.

The ropes binding the women have all been strategically

positioned and wrapped around them to create patterns and
contrast the shape of their bodies. All of the knots holding
them in place look complex but artistic.

Fleabag gazes around the room, fascinated.

FLEABAG
(To camera)
It’s like a sexy Cirque Du Soleil.
If they lost all their funding and
were forced to perform in a small,
sticky, slightly pungent function
room above a pub in Camberwell.

A woman, Rosa, approaches.

ROSA
Hi! Are you one of the models?

FLEABAG
Oh god, no, I wish! If you strung
me up there I’m sure I’d end up
looking like a Victorian housewife
that hanged herself.

ROSA
Hey, there have been plenty of
artists who’ve made good money
selling portraits of sad Victorian
women, you’d be doing us a favour!

FLEABAG
Oh, then no need to bother tieing
me up, I’ll just lie down and you
can say I died of consumption.

Rosa laughs, which is not the usual reaction that Fleabag’s

inappropriate jokes receive.

FLEABAG (CONT’D)
Sorry, no, not a model. Natasha
invited me?

ROSA
Oh, perfect, you’re one of the
artists then?

Before Fleabag can object, Natasha arrives, carrying a large

studio bag.

NATASHA
You made it, fantastic! Come and
have a seat, I’ll get you set up.

ROSA
Nice to meet you, I hope you enjoy
it!
 21.

FLEABAG
Thank you, you too.

Fleabag and Natasha walk towards the stage.

NATASHA
You found it okay then?

FLEABAG
Yeah, not a problem. Just a quick
question, that lovely woman asked
if I was one of the artists?

NATASHA
Christ, sorry, I should have said -
you have to participate. If we let
in everyone that just wanted to
watch, we’d be better off doing it
downstairs. Or, you know, as a live-
stream. We’re trying to create a
space where we’re all respectful
and mature...
(Beat)
Basically we’re trying to keep the
perverts to a minimum.

Fleabag laughs politely, then stops abruptly to address the

camera.

FLEABAG
(To camera)
Not an entirely foolproof system.

NATASHA
Anyway, it’s not a problem is it?
You’re okay with drawing?

FLEABAG
Oh, yeah! Yeah, absolutely. I love
drawing.

The two have reached the last desk on the row. Natasha puts
her bag down on it, then retrieves several items from inside.

NATASHA
Brilliant. Well, this will be your
spot. Here’s a sketch pad, and this
pencil case has got pens, pencils,
charcoals, whatever you like to
use. Draw what you see, draw what
you feel, and try and have fun!

FLEABAG
Got it. Fun. Great!
 22.

INT. FUNCTION ROOM - NIGHT

The session has begun. On the stage is a row of five people

working at desks, behind them stand three more people with
their work mounted on easels. There’s a relaxed atmosphere -
some of the artists are chatting to each other, and the
models talk to their partners.

Fleabag looks to be studiously drawing away. Her eyes

repeatedly look up to the models, then return to her sketch
book.

Reveal: Fleabag’s drawing. She has drawn the models as

incredibly basic stick figures, which loosely match the
positions they’re in.

FLEABAG
(To camera)
Don’t say a bloody word. I can’t
draw, I’ve never been able to.

She props the sketch book up in front her to compare it to

the scene. The way she has drawn the stick figures being
suspended from the ceiling makes it look like an awful game
of hangman.

She puts it back down on the desk, resigned.

FLEABAG (CONT’D)
(To camera)
It looks like something you’d find
in the desk drawer of a child
psychologist. I only wanted to come
and pique my curiosity about
bondage and quietly admire the
human form and instead I’m leaving
with this... Manifesto.

She picks up her pencil again and looks back at the models.

INT. CAFE - NIGHT - FLASHBACK

Boo and Fleabag sit at one of the tables in the cafe, playing
Pictionary. Boo can’t guess what Fleabag’s drawing is meant
to be.

BOO
Stop doing the same thing, draw
something else!

FLEABAG
No! There’s nothing else to draw!

BOO
Lady and the tramp! Legally blonde!
 23.

FLEABAG
No, what?! These are two separate
drawings!

BOO
How can a girl and a dog both be
clues to the same answer?

FLEABAG
It’s not a dog!

BOO
I give up, just tell me!

FLEABAG
Babe! That’s a pig! She’s a babe!

Boo laughs, hard. Fleabag joins in, more due to Boo’s

reaction.

BOO
Have you ever even seen a fucking
pig?

INT. FUNCTION ROOM - BACK TO SCENE

FLEABAG
(To camera)
She kept that drawing stuck on her
fridge. It made her laugh every
time she looked at it. I can only
imagine what she would have done
with this one.

An older man - George, another artist - walks towards her.

She instinctively hunches over her drawing to hide it from
view. He smiles warmly as he reaches her desk.

GEORGE
Hello there! How’re you getting on?

FLEABAG
So far, so good!

GEORGE
Is this your first time at this
kind of life drawing class?

FLEABAG
Yes, I thought I’d try something
completely different. Yourself?
 24.

GEORGE
Me? Oh, no, I’m old hat here. I
started out at still life classes,
then moved onto life drawing
classes and then I heard about this
this, and for me, there’s no going
back now. I love it, the things
I’ve seen and the people I’ve met.
There isn’t a human body out there
that could surprise me anymore.

She sits up a little, assuming he’s flirting with her.

GEORGE (CONT’D)
And of course my wife loves that
I’m not pestering her to sit for me
anymore!

Her assumption being wrong, she slumps back down.

GEORGE (CONT’D)
I come home with my portraits from
these nights and she can’t believe
her eyes. Says it’s best I get it
out of my system here because
there’s no way she’ll be posing
like this for me!

He points to her canvas, still shielded by her body.

GEORGE (CONT’D)
Do you mind if I have a look?

FLEABAG
Oh, um... I’m sorry, I’m actually
really private about my... art.

GEORGE
Sorry, love, of course. Absolutely,
it’s your personal work. I’ll let
you crack on, you don’t need me
distracting you!

He nods kindly at her, and shuffles back across the stage.

FLEABAG
(To camera)
I really want him to draw me.

She looks back down at her work.

FLEABAG (CONT’D)
(To camera)
Maybe I’ll bump into him and we’ll
accidentally swap work, see what
his wife makes of this shit.
 25.

She picks her pencil back up, and continues drawing for
moment, then feels her phone vibrate. She pulls it from her
pocket and looks around to make sure she’s not breaking any
rules.

FLEABAG (CONT’D)
(To camera)
Claire. Wants to know how the
meeting went.

She looks up at the room again, unsure how to respond. She

leans back from her desk, and takes a photo of her drawing
with her phone. She presses send, we hear the ‘whoosh’ sound
effect.

FLEABAG (CONT’D)
(To camera)
I think that neatly sums up that I
managed to balls the whole thing
up. Maybe she’ll show Martin and he
can find a buyer for it. More
likely he’ll take it to his office
and start furiously masturbating.
(Disdainfully)
Martin.

She picks her pencil up again, and carries on drawing.

INT. FUNCTION ROOM - NIGHT

The night is winding down. The models are all untied, and the
artists are all packing their belongings away.

Natasha approaches Fleabag, carrying her studio bag and an

empty folder.

NATASHA
Here! If you want to take your work
home with you.

FLEABAG
Oh, brilliant! Thanks for letting
me use these, too.

She hands Natasha her collection of pens and pencils. Being

sure to hide her art from view, she slots it in to the
folder.

NATASHA
So, what did you think?

FLEABAG
Well, I can’t imagine my drawing is
anything but insulting to these
models and the ancient Japanese.
 26.

NATASHA
I’m sure it’s not that bad!

FLEABAG
I know, you’re probably right.
(To camera)
She’s not.
(To Natasha)
But I’m really glad I came. I don’t
know what I was expecting, but it’s
been a real treat. Everyone was
really lovely, it was just a nice
environment to be in.

Natasha smiles.

NATASHA
Well, most people are going to head
downstairs for a drink, but if
you’ve got time, I could show you
some basic knots? Might come in
useful the next time you’re at sea,
or something?

FLEABAG
Or kidnapping!

Natasha looks mildly uncomfortable, but agrees.

FLEABAG (CONT’D)
I mean, if you’re sure you don’t
mind, then yes, please. I’m sure
I’ll find a use for them.
(To camera)
It will be kidnapping.

They step down from the stage, onto the main floor. Natasha
walks to the crate in the corner and retrieves a thin rope
and two cushions. She hands one to Fleabag, and they sit on
them, cross legged, facing each other.

NATASHA
Okay, so. Put your arms like this.

She bends her elbows and uses each hand to grip the opposite
arm’s inner forearm. Fleabag copies the motion.

NATASHA (CONT’D)
This is the boola boola knot, it’s
probably the most useful one to
know. Or it’s the first one I
learnt, at least.

She proceeds to tie Fleabag’s arms together, not talking

through the process, but demonstrating each stage clearly.

FLEABAG
How did you get into all this?
 27.

NATASHA
I had a girlfriend who enjoyed it.
She kept saying “it’s just like a
hug, but with bruises!” And then I
tried it, and it was a huge stress
relief. You can do it where you tie
the ropes on your pressure points
and it acts like acupuncture, but
it always felt really good to me
regardless. I think when most
people look it up on the Internet,
they see these bound up naked women
and it can seem pretty distressing.
But for me, like, the sexual aspect
isn’t even the main selling point.
I like the power, the control of
it. You can make someone else feel
strong and connected, but at the
same time you can make them feel so
vulnerable. They depend on you.

Fleabag stares at her like she’s seeing into her soul. She
looks as though she’s finally found someone she can confess
all of her own hang-ups to, that might actually understand.
She opens her mouth to say something, but Natasha continues.

NATASHA (CONT’D)
But for me, it’s only good with one
person, when I have a partner that
I can completely trust.

Fleabag’s face drops.

FLEABAG
(To camera)
Never mind.

NATASHA
Sorry, I know I’m massively over-
sharing. There, try moving your
arms.

She gestures at the completed knot. Fleabag wriggles her

arms, but can’t free them.

FLEABAG
Wow. Hug with bruises is pretty
spot on!
(To camera)
I regret this.

NATASHA
Here, you can have a go on me if
you want.

She undoes the knot and hands the rope over, then puts her
arms in position. Fleabag starts to copy the process.
 28.

NATASHA (CONT’D)
So, can I ask, when you say it’s a
guinea-pig themed cafe, is it like
one of those cat cafes where they
roam around and you can pet them as
you please?

FLEABAG
No, it’s really a design choice.
It’s an ordinary cafe with pictures
of guinea-pigs on the walls. And
one actual guinea-pig, who, to be
fair, sometimes escapes her hutch
and roams around. Which gets her
mistaken for vermin more often than
not. She also sits in the window
and watches the world go by like,
she’s a character in a teen drama
that wants everyone to think she’s
deep and poetic.

NATASHA
But why guinea-pigs?

FLEABAG
I bought my friend a guinea-pig for
her birthday a few years ago. I
think it was the first time someone
had given her a present that wasn’t
owl related, and she really ran
with it. You know when you’re a
child, and you say you like
something and it sticks to you?
Everyone thought she loved owls.
She hated owls. So the second she
saw that guinea-pig I think she
knew the chance she’d been given,
and she really made it her own. To
be honest, the theme made sense
with her around too, no-one ever
questioned it. Now I suppose people
find it somewhat creepy.

NATASHA
Did you two part ways?

INT. ROAD OUTSIDE CAFE - DAY - FLASHBACK

Boo stands on the kerb, watching the traffic fly past,

contemplating whether or not to step into it.

INT. FUNCTION ROOM - BACK TO SCENE

FLEABAG
She died. Walked into a cycle lane.
 29.

NATASHA
Oh my god. I’m so sorry!

FLEABAG
It’s fine. I’m fine.

She finishes the knot, and they sit in an awkward silence.

NATASHA
I’m sorry I can’t... With the
money. It’s just-

FLEABAG
Oh, no, of course. I don’t need
your money. Don’t worry about it.
(Beat)
I’m actually going to head off.
Thank you, tonight was great. A
real experience. Thanks for
bringing me.

She stands up, gathers her bag and folder, and hurriedly
walks towards the door.

NATASHA
Hang on, I need untieing!

FLEABAG
Oh, god, sorry.

She turns around, walks back over and undoes the knot.

NATASHA
Thanks. Keep in touch if you want,
you have my number.

FLEABAG
Great. Yes. Thanks!

She walks back to the door.

FLEABAG (CONT’D)
(To camera)
So needy.

INT. TUBE - NIGHT

Fleabag sits on the tube, staring absently into space.

INT. CAFE - DAY - FLASHBACK

Fleabag sits behind the counter, and looks up as Boo enters,

with a carrier bag.

BOO
Look what I got!
 30.

She withdraws a watercolour print of a guinea-pig, and beams

as she hands it to Fleabag.

FLEABAG
Is this a portrait of Hillary?

BOO
No! There was a craft stall at the
market and I had to buy it. It’s so
cute!

FLEABAG
You bought a picture of an animal
you already own?

Boo rolls her eyes.

BOO
I knew you’d say this. You don’t
get art, that’s your problem.

Fleabag smiles broadly, entertained by how insulted Boo is.

INT. TUBE - BACK TO SCENE

Fleabag says nothing, but comes out of her trance and glances
around the carriage.

INT. FLEABAG’S FLAT - NIGHT

Fleabag enters her kitchen and puts her bag down on the
counter. She removes her drawing from its folder, and studies
it. After a moment of indecision, she walks to her fridge,
takes a takeaway menu out from under a magnet, and uses the
magnet to secure her drawing.

She stands back and looks at it. She decides it’s the right
decision, then turns and leaves the kitchen.

She strides back in, seconds later.

FLEABAG
(To self)
Don’t. Can’t. Stupid.

She yanks the drawing off the fridge, opens the nearest
drawer and shoves it inside, unceremoniously. She leaves the
kitchen again.

END OF SHOW