In town, it seems to be morning, and Micheál is trying to sneak Laoise out the front door. Unfortunately, it’s difficult to do a quiet walk of shame in Ros na Rún, where Máire is doing round-the-clock surveillance of the entire town in an elaborate crisscross pattern learned during her time in Afghanistan. She starts carrying on about how “thank God, you’re safe!” and “thank God, I was up all night worrying!” and “thank God, I was only about two-thirds of the way through planning your funeral!”, which is also known as “Máire Morning Greeting #3.” Laoise explains that she didn’t come home last night because she was, erm, staying with a friend who lives, uhh, two towns over and is named, errr, Fionnuala O’Shacking Up. Máire questions this story, especially since she’s almost positive she attended Fionnuala O’Shacking Up’s funeral, but Laoise explains that, err, that was Fionnuala’s mother who was also named Fionnuala, and that furthermore she and Fionnuala fell asleep on the sofa during Fair City because, uhh, Fionnuala has a lot of gas leaks at her house, and also because Fair City is boring, especially now that Emmet isn’t there fighting with everybody all the time. Furthermore, she explains unnecessarily, she hasn’t been sleeping well lately, which is certainly a good reason to watch Fair City, and then she and Micheál flee in opposite directions. Well, I’m sure Máire is satisfied with this explanation and will meddle no further.
(I kid, I kid, Fair City fans. Please don't send me angry letters. I get enough of those from the Berni fans.)
At the pub, Tadhg is harassing Frances about her torrid non-affair with Cóilí Jackie, which you may recall consisted of his ruining her trip to see the new calf by offering to show her his udders. She, however, does not have time for his seafóid today because she’s been examining the bank statements and notices that earnings have been way down the past two months, and also that there have been a lot of checks made out to “Chernobyl Quarry” and “Upstairs Heat Vent & Sons.” He says this is because he had to order a lot of stock in July and August, such as 50,000 bags of crisps, and denies her request to see the books because he’s sent them to his accountant, Fernando Mac Money Laundering. She gives him a “Bitch, PLEASE!” look and then walks out, and it’s clear he’s nervous because he only mildly insults her as she walks out the door.
Back in the Icelandic Gaeltacht, Mack is walking Dee through the various parts of the plan, such as where the stove will go and where he’ll play Xbox. After telling us more about his back door than we really wanted to know, he starts carrying on about where the hordes of children will do their various activities, such as running away and getting Internet-kidnapped, but Dee is unimpressed, by which I mean she is throwing up in her mouth a lot. She sputters that it seems a bit isolated to her, what with it being on Saturn and all, but he counters that Mo and Peatsaí are just down the road, gesturing vaguely at the ocean with his crutch. Apparently Mo and Peatsaí live in a pineapple under the sea. Dee says she was really thinking that they’d be moving to Galway, with its bright lights and abundant Burger Kings, but he says they can’t afford a place in Galway, and besides, there’s no way he’d be able to get around on his crutches there with all those cobblestones. She says she’s making good money, but he sighs that she won’t be for long since any day know she’ll be having the first of their four-to-six children and will thus be on perma-maternity leave for the next 20 years. It’s clear he’s given this a lot of thought. She changes tactics, fretting that she doesn’t want to build the same house as Jimmy Entire-Family-Killed-in-Mysterious-House-Collapse, and that she’d like to find an architect who will design them something more modern, such as Frank Gehry or whoever designed Epcot Center. Eventually she wears him down, possibly because standing on a 45-degree slope on crutches is very tiring, and he agrees that they can look into it.
At Mo’s undersea pineapple, we have our first sighting of Postman David not working of the season. He’s standing in her kitchen complaining that John Joe is unreasonably angry with him just because he chained himself to a lagoon and caused the quarry to go out of business. God, get a sense of humor, John Joe! Mo is only vaguely interested in this because she’s busy arguing with Peatsaí about whether he’s strong enough to go for a walk on his septic finger yet. David suggests that perhaps he could write John Joe a letter, which is a waste of time since no letter has been correctly delivered in this town since he became the postman, and Mo snaps that she could not possibly give less of a shit about this, especially once we see her having some kind of ominous problem with her hand. OH, GOD, I DON’T THINK I CAN TAKE ANOTHER SEASON OF LOVELY MO BEING SICK AIEEE
Tadhg and John Joe are at the pub arguing about the quarry again. John Joe complains that no one wants to work with him because they think the quarry is/was Chernobyl-ing the river, so Tadhg tells him he just has to find out who’s actually doing the polluting and have them executed in the town square. John Joe replies that he’s asked Caitríona, but she won’t tell him. Tadhg’s helpful response is that he should ask her again, and then he throws him out, ordering him to take the Gaudi takeaway that Katy brought him and has apparently been sitting on the kitchen counter for several days with him. That seems wasteful—you’d think he’d slop it between two slices of bread and sell it to the customers. There’s nothing barflies enjoy more than a nice paella sandwich. After John Joe leaves, Tadhg gets a phone call from his accountant Fernando Mac Money-Laundering, who’s terrified because Frances is at his office and looks, you know, murderous. Tadhg nervously advises him to hide under his desk and have the receptionist tell Frances he’s on vacation and/or dead, which will of course slow her down for all of three seconds, but I suppose will give Fernando the chance to text a goodbye to his family telling them that he loved them.
Back at their place, Mack is telling Dee about various meals they might eat at different times today, such as lunch and dinner, and also that they should look into finding an architect. Wait, wasn’t Eoin an architect? BRING BACK EOIN. Dee says she already knows a great architect, by which she means whoever built The Gherkin, and that she’ll be able to hire him at a good price because she just represented him in a human-trafficking trial. That last part is implied. Unfortunately, he’s in Bangkok or Ukraine or somewhere non-suspicious like that at the moment, but she’ll call him as soon as he gets back on the 12th of never. She shoos him off, and just then she hears an email notification. She walks over to her laptop, which has browser tabs open to many sites but for some reason not www.rosnarunrecaps.com, DISCRIMINATION, and sees that there’s a new message from DNA Ireland with confidential results! Well, that was fast. When I’ve run DNA tests on myself and my friends it has always taken weeks.
After the break, Gráinne is hilariously hosting her terrible radio show, the topic of which today is a missing chihuahua. Next she promises/threatens she’ll be reading the death notices, but first, a little music, hopefully “Another One Bites the Dust.” This is what they’re reduced to when Keane’s isn’t having a 2-for-1 sale on manure for them to talk about. John Joe arrives to scream about rabble-rouser Gráinne being on the radio just days after Amy was fired from the station for raising rabble, but Caitríona explains she’s only here temporarily and Gráinne adds that she’s here against her will anyway, like most of the people in Caitríona’s life. He demands to know who the actual polluter is, so she replies that she can’t tell him yet, but what she can tell him is that the station will be officially apologizing to him and offering him free advertising during their popular 3-4 a.m. timeslot. John Joe, however, hisses that this isn’t going to help him since he’s already well into planning his suicide, or possibly a murder-suicide if he gets ambitious, and then storms out.
Out in the street, Eric tells Laoise that she left some of her stuff at his place, presumably that sad potted plant from that sad cardboard box we saw her carrying around on moving day, and adds that she can come pick it up any time, because he’s moving back to Dublin. It seems he’s been spending more time there lately, which has reminded him that there are, you know, things to do there. As they hug goodbye, Máire materializes and starts squawking about “the lovebirds,” so Eric gets in his car and drives away. Máire urges Laoise to stop him, by throwing herself under his tires if necessary, but she replies that she doesn’t need Eric anymore because she has a new man: Adam! No, no, as brilliant as that would be, it’s Micheál, of course. Too bad, Adam!
Gráinne storms into the café and orders a glass of wine, but Berni tries to talk her into today’s special, which is a free Heimlich maneuver with any entrée. After her dressing-down by Tadhg, Gráinne is not in the mood for Berni’s nonsense and bites her head off, which causes Berni and Caitríona, who is hanging around not working, to decide that she must be drunk. Because, you know, Gráinne is always hanging around drunk all over the place. A big fight breaks out which of course quickly turns to the subject of the quarry, because all roads lead there these days, especially those that are coated in oil sludge and liquefied cow shit. Caitríona yanks Gráinne aside and tells her to knock if off about the quarry or she’s going to be in big trouble, and meanwhile Frances, who’s been sitting there eating her gristle taco all this time, looks very suspicious about why Tadhg is sticking up for John Joe all of a sudden.
Over at the shop, Mo tells Colm she’s got her cancer support group today, and then they complain about Peatsaí for a while, and then when she starts to leave, she almost falls down and he has to catch her. OH JAYSIS. She claims the floor was wet and the sun was in her eyes and so on, but he looks worried and dubious.
At Micheál’s, he and Laoise are making out when the door opens and Máire appears. This is why if you live in Ros na Rún you should always keep your doors locked, because if it’s not Máire bursting in to mind your business, it’s David to deliver somebody else’s mail. A moat full of piranhas might help, too. She’s here to congratulate them and start banging on about getting married, because as soon as any two single people in this town learn each other’s names, Máire starts planning the wedding.
Back at their place, Dee is staggering around the kitchen sighing. There’s no sign of Mack, so we’ll assume he’s lying semi-conscious on the bed with his crotch smoldering. She seems restless, and then goes to take her birth control pill, thinks about it for a bit, and then dramatically throws them in the garbage and smiles triumphantly. Another, less wasteful option would’ve been to start sneaking them into Katy’s food JUST IN CASE.