![]() Why? A ‘groggy’ Arabella enters with David. Searching the stalls, she finds one, extracts a syringe, and takes this game to a whole new level, sucking his drug into it and not a moment too soon. This is Theo’s time to shine.Īs ‘Patrick’ blathers on about nothing of consequence to Arabella as she takes a few sips before tossing the drink, Theo snatches his drug and decamps to the Gentlemans’ room. As Terry is grinding up on his mate Tariq ( Chin Nyenwe), David turns to slip something in Arabella’s drink. He introduces himself as ‘Patrick’ and orders her a Gin and Tonic. Terry wants to help and Theo knows exactly where thee actress can play her part.Īt the bar, Arabella meets her assailant in the flesh and they lock eyes for the first time since that January 22nd night a year prior. In a white bob wig and a vinyl ensemble that would have Grace Jones envious, Bella sidles up to the bar and to David ( Lewis Reeves). Theo ( Harriet Webb) makes the trio and now they wait for the rat to chase the cheese. If Arabella’s the hook and Terry’s the line, who is the Sink Him? Her take on recidivism is a big risk, but Terry is down for the alliance as it is “spicy, blud.” They’re one out though. Now, T’s already thinking her girl is bonkers for surveilling the bar for so long, but Arabella knows that a criminal always returns to the scene of the crime. Escaping into the next stall, her girl Bells is already two steps ahead, instructing Terry to put on a disguise. Terry ( Weruche Opia) is standing by on their next move. In the women’s bathroom, Bella’s shocked and shook. She stares through to her goal, not at it. This is where Arabella’s ( Michaela Coel) mind puzzle is taking shape. We open up just where we left off: outside of the Ego Death Bar. Though, if vengeance had a theme song, I would think this diamond needle on the mindfuckery finale of I May Destroy You ( HBO) titled “Ego Death” would play just fine, Hi-Fidelity. The thing is you’re doing fine, right? That’s when you pipe in Tierra Whack’s “ Pretty Ugly” until you’re left off imagining Daft Punk’s “ Something About Us” and you realize the soundtrack to your life is more of something songs cannot sing a paeon unto. Well, that sounds like a bushel of fucking sunshine, doesn’t it? Sonically, it’s “ Mr. A complete loss of subjective self-identity. ![]()
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