Over at the pub, someone who looks like Bobbi-Lee is sweeping, but she’s using the correct end of the broom so it must be someone else. Pádraig stomps in and angrily tells her that she and her big mouth have ruined his friendship with Adam, and she’s surprised because she expected the two of them to be planning a wedding by now. The theme will be, “That Time Pádraig Punched Adam For Calling Him A Gayboy.” She does her usual “I was only trying to help” routine, which—unlike, say, Berni’s—is usually genuine, and she gets back the usual “I don’t need your help!” as Pádraig storms out.
Maggie then breezes into the pub with Pól in tow, which annoys everyone who’s ever met him, but she promises that he won’t cause any trouble. Frances can’t believe all the lecturing she’s been giving Maggie about Pól has been for naught, so she and Tadhg march over to their table to give them a piece of their collective mind. They threaten to murder Pól for a while and he promises to be good, which means the next time we see him the pub will be on fire and he’ll have a lighter in his hand and go ten minutes without blinking.
Gráinne has come to visit Caitríona at the radio station for some reason, and finds her complaining that if she’d known this job would involve accounting and paperwork she never would’ve taken it. I’m not sure what she thought a radio station manager did all day, but trying to understand how Caitríona’s mind works is always a dangerous and potentially insanity-inducing endeavor. She announces dramatically that she’s up to her eyeballs in work, by which she means these Farmville crops are not going to harvest themselves, and she looks harried because she’s been there for 45 whole minutes and thinks it’s about time to call it a day.
Maggie and Pól are still at the pub discussing the works of John Donne and also the fact that Davood Ghadami gives them funny feelings when they’re watching Strictly. Just then Coinín Jackie comes down from the hills, which is always a sign that good times are about to ensue, and starts ranting about how Pól killed his dog and stole his turf. Pól responds by giving him a bunch of lip, at which point Jackie grabs him by the collar and starts choking him. Of course everyone in the pub is in favor of this except Maggie and Pól, so she starts screaming for them to stop, and Mo goes to have a panic attack in the corner. I guess that storyline is ongoing despite the magical healing powers of Mack’s hugging and Dee’s talking about herself all the time. Because Tadhg does not want to deal with the paperwork generated when an ex-convict is murdered in one’s pub, he eventually pulls them apart, so Pól as usual tells everybody to go frig themselves and storms out while Maggie screams for him to come back like a fool. Áine has materialized behind the bar, as she is wont to do, to complain that she’s scared of the bad man, as she is also wont to do, but Frances assures her that she and Tadhg won’t let anything happen to her. Áine explains that she’s also afraid that Pól will hurt Maggie, and Frances thinks it’s time for her to have a word with Maggie about Pól again. If things go the way they seem to be going, Maggie needs to be much more afraid of Frances than she is of Pól, because he may burn your house down, but she will reduce you to a pile of broken DNA strands.
At the radio station, Muireann has decided to up the ante in the high-stakes poker game she’s playing with Caitríona by informing her she’s just been named a regular guest on the station’s Sunday-morning current affairs program. It’s also being renamed Total Crap With Muireann Uí Gharbháin. Caitríona smilingly responds that this will be happening over her dead body, because she knows Muireann is just trying to use the station as a political soapbox. She represents the Screaming Gorgon Party, which is somewhere between Fine Gael and the Coalition of Christian Pirates (CCP) on the political spectrum. Caitríona says the current-affairs program was part of the old schedule, and that it probably won’t be on the new schedule, so she should shut up and go away. The station has been on the air for a week and a half and they’re already totally revamping the schedule? At this rate she’ll have turned it into a shoe store by Christmas. Anyway, Muireann threatens to have the advertisers she recruited pull their sponsorship if she doesn’t get her own program and then disappears in her characteristic cloud of green smoke. A nervous Caitríona wonders whether she can actually do this, and Amy replies that she doesn’t know, but she’s going to find out, so she picks up the phone and starts making calls. Clearly Amy is the only one in this storyline who has any idea what’s going on.
After the break, Vanessa is at the café telling Berni how much she misses Niall, but even though he’s only a couple of hours away, she doesn’t feel like she can get away because she’s got to be here helping Fia with her new business. Yes, I’m sure Fia couldn’t possibly sew together a top without you hanging around watching her and carrying on about the time Niall saw a dingo. Bobbi-Lee hilariously interjects that what Vanessa really needs to do is knock some manners into Fia’s little blonde head, but because Berni’s not in the mood to clean blood and hair off the counter today, she quickly changes the subject to how dreamy Niall sounds. Vanessa is only too happy to point out that he’s significantly younger than she is and that he can’t get enough of her womanly curves and the way she spends hours summarizing old Duran Duran videos and episodes of Eldorado for him. Oh, and because everyone in Ireland knows everyone else, it turns out he’s an old friend of Mack’s, which will probably serve a purpose at some point in the future, but not right now. Bobbi-Lee storms off in a huff after she and Vanessa get into an argument over absolutely nothing, which gives Berni a chance to casually and totally hypothetically ask her about what it’s like to be in a May-December relationship, or in Berni and Briain’s case, mid-February–December. Vanessa tells her it started out as just a bit of fun, but then turned into something more, and eventually they got married and couldn’t be happier now. Well, give Fia and Niall five minutes together and I’m sure they could put an end to that. Vanessa concludes that there’s nothing wrong with it as long as the young lad has good sense and maturity, and Berni looks dreamily into the distance, wondering if the fact that Briain can burp the entire alphabet counts as good sense and maturity.
Behind the bar, Áine asks Tadhg in front of Frances if Maggie can move in with them, which gives him palpitations and causes Frances to send her to her room. When it’s just the two of them, she tells Tadhg she’s getting sick of Maggie’s nonsense, first bringing Pól into the pub when she knows he’s not welcome and then having the nerve to compare him to Tadhg, whom she carries on about as if they’re best friends. She asks him how well he and Maggie know each other, and he evasively talks about the gang of kids they were both a part of, and how they’d all go to the cinema and the sweet shop and the Easter Uprising together, as kids do. She crosses her arms and glares at him silently with what is my absolute favorite Frances expression, the one that would give Batman himself instant diarrhea, and he breaks out into a cold sweat and starts nervously adding too many details to his story, which by this point has basically turned into a montage of scenes from The Little Rascals. She remains stone-faced and silent until he finally concludes, “Nothing happened between us!” and runs upstairs, and it seems the house of cards he and Maggie have spent all this time assembling is about to be knocked down and shoved up their asses.
On the awkwardness, regret, and magazine aisle at the shop, Pádraig apologizes to Adam for hurting his feelings, and Adam replies that he’s the one who’s sorry for putting Pádraig in an uncomfortable situation. Pádraig tells him he’s got nothing to be sorry about, because he knows the role Bobbi-Lee played in all this, and I love how her name is used in the village as shorthand for “Don’t worry, I know this wasn’t actually your fault.” They agree to be friends again and to forget this entire thing happened, at least until they start fighting over the same guy or get anonymously set up with each other on Grindr.
Back at the café, Berni tells Vanessa her young lad is a total ride and there’s only about a 60 percent chance he’s a psychotic stalker, but that she’s decided to steer clear of him because she doesn’t want people calling her a cougar. As if that’s the worst thing anybody’s ever called Berni. Vanessa’s take on this situation is that “people” can go eff themselves, and if Berni doesn’t give this toyboy a try, she’ll always wonder what might’ve been. I’m going to guess “public humiliation, a yearlong falling-out with Evan, and something that takes 14 days of antibiotics to clear up.” She worries what will happen if the town gossips find out, as if she’s not the vice-president of the Irish Gossip Association’s Galway chapter, but Vanessa reiterates her “fuck ‘em” platform. It clearly gives Berni something to think about, and my guess is that something is Briain’s thighs.
Back at her place, Berni tells Briain she was hasty in asking him to move out, but he says it’s the right thing to do because if he can’t be with her in the, you know, riding sense, he’d rather be far away from her. He tells her he’s quitting his job, too, and thanks her for everything she’s done for him. He leaves, but then immediately comes back in to return his key, at which point she sticks her tongue down his throat and starts ripping his clothes off. I wish they would build the “Berni’s bedroom” set so these two can stop having sex in the kitchen. Anyway, I can’t decide whether I want Bobbi-Lee or Evan to find out about this first, but either way, they’re going to have to interrupt Labhrás’ gardening show with breaking news of a double homicide before long.