Victoria sets the tone for the episode by wearing denim that doubles as weaponry. “These jeans are my favourite things,” she coos, stroking the lethal looking spikes that jut from her at hip level. They should be standard issue club-wear in certain parts of South West London, but one would hope that Chelsea - well, Fulham, had a little more class. Eurotrash Sophie sees the spikes and remembers that it’s her birthday soon. She wants a Bollywood theme, and she wants Victoria to arrive riding a leopard, or Spencer. “I don’t want to ride on Spencer ever,” sniffs Victoria. Come on, love. Not even if his was the last chopper out of the Glastonbury car park? Oh, alright, maybe not.
Spencer’s chopper could possibly support Sophie, Victoria and a leopard right now - after some highly illegal pool based heavy petting, he’s giving Stephanie a bath. These Americans might like their fancy showers, but they clearly need some supervision when it comes to sitting in a tub of their own watery filth. Stephanie is unleashing a boner killer among the bubbles. Does Spencer remember when Stephanie met Lucy at the polo? “She felt bad for me, it was like I was the next victim.” Spencer feels some of the blood rush back to his other head. “She’s jealous, only girls do it,” he murmurs. Just girls, eh, Spenny? Girls with nothing in common but you? We’re sure Steph has nothing to worry about...
Biscuits has finally nailed down a date with Phoebe. “I haven’t been on a date in YARS!” she growls, removing her right hand from her right nipple to accept a drink. “Do people still make a point of aggressively drawing attention to their secondary sexual characteristics?” Phoebe has a type. “Leather jacket,” she murmurs, nodding approvingly at Biscuits’ outerwear, which looks suspiciously like something Alex wore in the last episode, but never mind. “Oh, and you have to be ambitious, funny, charismatic.” One suspects the jacket is the only non-negotiable.
However, Louise, who is at home with Binky helping her revise for her driving theory (“I have A LOT more free time now” sniffs Louise) has just happened upon an astonishing fact, courtesy of her brother, who’s temporary, clunky nickname shall be Interfering Sam. Interfering Sam knows for a fact that Biscuits slept with Lucy Watson shortly before the polo. So Louise, not even pausing to gather wine and popcorn, telephones Phoebe immediately. “You’re out with Jamie now? Well, I don’t want to be the messenger here, but...” begins the most damaging sex revelation since some aide rushed up to Hillary and said “Hey, did ya hear about Bill’s intern?”
Biscuits has an answer for everything. “It doesn’t mean shit, it happened once, I went to her house, had a bottle of vodka, I know I fancy you, I like her a lot,” purrs Biscuits, no more concerned for his impropriety than he is for his liver. Biscuits is an eligible bachelor who can put his chocolate finger wherever he damn well chooses, but he must know, from the well documented evidence, that schtupping Lucy Watson is as sensible and consequence free as dry humping a beehive. Not that it was Lou’s place to say anything. If she can’t keep her hands off her phone, poor Binks is never going to pass her driving test. Phoebe takes the news in as relaxed a manner as she is capable of, tossing phrases like “arch enemy” into the air.
The Bois try to resolve Biscuits’ problem - well, Proudlock (who is PERSISTING WITH THE TOPKNOT) is helping and Boulle is trying to jump over them on his skateboard. “Spencer deserves to know before anyone else,” surmises Biscuits, resolving to tell his best pal about his genital themed error. It’s a tough one - Spencer probably doesn’t want to hear that his best friend slept with his ex, but no-one in Chelsea understands the compulsion to stick one’s willy in inappropriate places like Mr Matthews. Biscuits seeks absolution over an oddly fizzy looking Bloody Mary. Spencer takes it relatively calmly. “Watson’s devious and you’re a bit of a slut. It was bound to happen,” he murmurs, sagely. “Your loyalty has been brought into question.” Given Spencer’s penchant for making inappropriately epic pronouncements about his social life, he should try dating Phoebe himself. “I’m not going to start dating someone my best mate doesn’t like. Can’t do that,” says Biscuits, loyally. Oh, don’t start having a boring moral code, Biscuits! It’s much more entertaining when your penis is free to gambol in all the bushes in the Royal Borough. We’re relying on you to put the whore in horticulture.
A furious Lucy accosts Stevie and Interfering Sam and has at them for their rumour mongering. “It was great gossip!” protests Interfering Sam. His honesty is refreshing. Lucy tackles Biscuits with a furious air-kiss in which she attempts to take his nose off with her cheekbone, and makes it clear that she’s not happy Biscuits went on a date with Phoebe, so her feelings are entirely clear and non confusing. Binky discovers Alex is her new neighbour, and gets invited to his housewarming. “Are you going to cook for us? Can we not just get a takeaway?” she says, with the focus of a woman who understands what it’s like to leave a ‘roll your own sushi’ party to get a sneaky M&S ham sandwich. And we learn the producers thought better of hiring a new girl called Tiffany - her name has been abbreviated to the more Cheltenham Ladies’ friendly sounding ‘Tiff’.
During a game of football with Biscuits, Alex admits to flirting with Binky in front of Fran.
“There’s a horrible triangle,” he reveals. Yes, Alex. The only good triangle is green and a Quality Street. Biscuits, impressively, has a suggestion for making things even worse. Why doesn’t Alex uninvite Fran from the houseparty and just have Binky over? “What you say is, look Fran...I’m sick!’” advises Biscuits, winningly. This is horrible, especially because Fran is so excited. She’s making Cheska help her pick outfits, and is warned off a frock that’s “Victorian and virginal at the same time. Leather is sexy and cool.” Why is everyone in the area so obsessed with leather? Has one of them acquired a supersized herd of cows at a knockdown price? Poor Fran can look as leathery or virginal as she likes - Alex has texted claiming a rugby injury. “I bet he just sent Binky the same message,” comforts Cheska. Oh, nooooooo!
Via a detour in which we discover Stephanie wasn’t expecting the London Eye to be so slow (“No wonder the lines were so long!”) and Phoebe has dyed her hair Breakdown Pink, accessorising with the sort of headband they give you when you’re playing tennis in asylums, Binky arrives at Alex’s, wearing the sort of trousers that were seemingly picked out with the express intention of not giving Alex any sexy ideas. However, Alex has ordered posh takeout with see through cucumbers, and after briefly pretending Fran can’t make it, reveals his fiendish plan. “I lied. Is that bad?” he pouts. Jesus, Alex, if you have to ask. “Then I realised I really do quite like Binky,” he adds, because nothing makes a woman drop her knickers faster than being referred to in the third person. “It’s...quite a nice situation,” admits Binky, as Alex leans in to smooch her face off. It’s like seeing Ken with Skipper. It looks like Phoebe will be replacing her headband with a vintage child’s baseball cap and plastic propeller combo.
It's time for Sophie's Bollywood pardy, which gives the whole gang an opportunity to show off some seriously offensive post colonial moves, apart from Alex, who's outfit and routine is inspired by Babylon Zoo's mid nineties smash, "Spaceman". We meet the neo posh Tiff, who Biscuits pimps out to Stevie, and we discover that she's either very, very drunk, or suffering from an hysterical condition. Bitchy Victoria enjoys Cheska's bride costume. "Is it because she'll never be a bride?" she cackles, and Mark Francis swoons with delight. Binky debriefs Lucy and then Fran on the Alex situation, giving up three quarters of the way through, crying "I'm too embarrassed to look at you, I can't cope." George Osbourne might like to have a bang on that one.
Spencer is wearing a jacket so excellent that it's making Mark Francis "livid". Also livid is Stephanie, who is understandably furious that Spencer didn't come home the night before and didn't tell her where he was or why."I don’t really do the communication thing. People get in touch with me, not...since when have you been the fun police?" splutters Spencer, outdouching himself in every category of bellendry going. Unless poor Spenny's finances have taken a turn for the worst, and he's used up all the credit on his Pay As You Go phone but is too embarrassed to say so.
Stephanie isn't too distressed to make everything very awkward. "Oh, I forgot, you guys hate each other!" she beams, as Phoebe lays into Lucy. It's a tough result to call. Watson is nails, but Phoebe has an unknowable, unhinged energy, and she's wearing all the pointy jewelry a person can fit on their own face. Phoebe calls Lucy a slut, which is the worst word she knows, and Lucy shoots back "You’re the most unpleasant girl I’ve ever met."
"Coming from you!"
"Your nose ring looks really weird."
"Your dress looks tacky."
This is a good time to point out that Lucy's skirt and top would be perfectly serviceable as a bridesmaids outfit, while Phoebe looks like she's doing some festive shoplifting, and has wrapped a pair of mini Christmas puddings in a Monsoon Home throw.
Lucy storms off to tell Biscuits how she feels, which is mostly that she doesn't want a boyfriend, but then, before the credits, gets embroiled in a sudden, steamy snog. To the victor the spoils!
Next time, Phoebe's brand new chin piercing becomes entangled with her eyebrow chain, and she's banned from asylum PE for life - but refuses to give back the headband. Alex evades jury duty after Biscuits suggests that he's got to stay in and wait for the person who's repairing the washing machine. Spencer tearfully admits that he's pawned his iPhone for leather jacket money, and gives Stephanie the number to his 15 year old Argos pager.