The party Cook promised is underground, and did you know it is lit up like Christmas underneath the streets of Bristol?! They crawl down to start selling their stash, but there’s a small problem: the rave is being either crashed or thrown by Mackenzie Crook, who, in addition to being a mobster and a litterer and and a real estate mogul and a pirate and Horcrux-vessel and a socially-deficient co-worker, is also a drug lord. He spots Thomas and his band of merry slingers and decides to get mobstery some more.
Emily happens upon Naomi, who is muttering to herself in the corner like Gollum in the cave under Misty Mountain ("We wants it, we needs it. Must have the Precious. No! It will cheat you, hurt you, lie. She is our friend! You don’t have any friends; nobody likes you! She will look after us now, she will never hurt us! No! Leave now and never come back! Leave now and never come back!").
Emily says she’s sold three bags for a tenner each, which seems really cheap, and Naomi turns away from the wall and says, "I don’t even know why I’m f-cking doing this."
Parenthetically, from the future — Naomi, you are staring down a moral quandary about selling weed to help keep a guy off the streets, but you have exactly zero issue with pushing powder to buy your girlfriend a pair of safety goggles? I don’t even …
[Rophy says: If it's any consolation, Emily looks a lot cuter in those goggles than Thomas does in his apartment.]
And you know what else, Naomi — You’re f-cking doing it because Emily phoned and invited you, and she is the water that froze inside your rock, and you’re going to break yourself against her again and again for the rest of your life. Here’s a crash-course; Emily likes Walt Whitman:
I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it,
The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.
The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the
distillation, it is odorless,
It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it,
I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked,
I am mad for it to be in contact with me.
No, seriously, Naoms; I’ve seen episode six. It’s happening.
Emily thanks Naomi for keeping quiet about the kissing thing. Naomi says she doesn’t care what Katie thinks. Emily says she does care, so thanks anyway — and then, look who wanders into the frame.
Why, it’s the ubiquitous Effy Stonem. You might even say she’s omnipresent.