Running To You…
Carla gingerly sneaks into her flat, sees the sinister cooking knife on the counter and decides the best course of action is to run out and get the police a honkin’ big tire iron, or spanner. Weapon in hand, she runs back into the flat to kick ass…à la Lara Croft with bigger nostrils.
BTW maybe it’s just my overeating ass, but can’t she smell dinner? What intruder stops to whip up a stew? Tony emerges in a bathrobe, and Carla hurls the spanner with enough force to shatter a really ugly lamp. Tony, it seems, wanted to create a romantic surprise for Carla by making and serving a candlelight dinner and he is the hors d’oeuvre in velour. Carla is unimpressed and abrasive. She orders Tony to get dressed and get out.
While he is changing, Carla has a few moments on the Barbarella couch to soften up with a glass of wine. She asks Tony what this display is all about. In a word, and not to sugar coat it…sex! Apparently horny Scottish guys break into flats and make haggis. Carla comments that lust is one of the seven deadly sins, and Tony dares her to name them all. While this won’t happen, she does name the seven dwarves, starting as follows…Sally Janice, Vicki.…They move onto the 10 commandments and agree that Tony has apparently coveted his neighbour’s wife….and wants to again (fade to smooch).
Over dinner later, Tony declares that they’re opponents, and launches into some footy talk…apparently he tried out for The Bhoys (Celtic); they said he was too good and it’d be unfair to the Rangers….Smuuurfman……tell them….Smuuuurf…..’kay, wait for Smurf. They lock horns over washing up the dishes. Tony suggests a naughty alternative.”What do you think I am,” Carla responds, ” an amusement park?”
Somewhat later, Tony is finally going…and no weapons next time…Hello, Moto….
Running a Scam…
Molly and Paul are looking for the elusive betting slip when Paul hedges around the subject of continuing on as lodger. Molly is wishy-washy. At the garage, Tyrone and Kev are working hard to clear the backlog, but still find time to fantasize that Claire is a savage librarian in bed. Over a pint at Rovers, Jack is less than thrilled to hear from Molly and Ty that they want Paul gone. Jack does realize they might want to start a family of their own one day. He urges them to be straight about it.
Paul, meanwhile, has found the betting slip by observing that Vera used them as paperback bookmarks. Eureka! Molly, Ty and Jack arrive home to find Paul cheerily reading the newspaper, we assume bursting to share his happy news. Before he can, Tyrone serves him his notice. This comes as a blow to Paul. He heads off to the pub, he says to celebrate his birthday…shoving the betting slip into his jeans.
Outside of the pub, Violet, her exercise ball, and Jamie run into Lauren, who asks if the flat is all nice and clean. Violet unloads and spews nasty words on her sister. Lauren defends Sean’s attempts to contribute and assist. Some bloke takes a poke at Violet for being a biatch in the street.
Back at the stinky lemony flat, ( I LOVE that smell, what’s their problem?) Jamie confesses he wishes he was the baby’s real dad. They talk about running away from everything, to a faraway land when Sean can’t ever find them with tangerine trees, and marmalade skies…. Jamie says they’d have to leave all their friends. Violet points out that Sean did “help her” but feels “it’s going to get worse”. They discuss sneaking away…like a do-it-yourself witness protection program in a box.
In Other News…
At the Platt’s Tina and DavId are enjoying TV and allow Gail to haul in all the Freshco’s bags on her own. Tina accepts a glass of wine and David wants his mom to chuck him a “choc. ice” (British ho ho cake). Gail hopes they’re going out because she wants to watch telly. David says no, they’re watching a DVD but gives Gail permission to watch her little tv thingy upstairs. David and Tina go off to bed, telling Gail that they will explain Tina’s sleepover and clean up their mess in the morning.
Ryan arrives home and is disgruntled to see Alex watching his TV. Alex tries to be inclusive, giving him a rundown of the telly choices. Ryan is having none of it.