Eddie and Patsy were taken back to the townhouse by Eddie's chauffeur. They got out, bags swinging about them, and struggled up the front steps. Once inside, they decided to have a drink in the living room to avoid conversing with Saffy and 'Gran,' whom they could hear talking downstairs in the kitchen.

"I need to ask you a favour, Eddie," Patsy said, accepting the drink that Eddie offered her.

"What is it? What're you up to, darling?" Eddie asked. She collapsed onto the sofa next to her.

"Eddie, I – I think I might need the bottle for this," Patsy admitted, curling her fingers agitatedly; she had glimpsed the bottle of vodka sitting on the mantelpiece.

"Alright then, darling," Eddie said at once, concerned. She got up and retrieved it. Patsy took a huge swig of it before continuing.

"Bloody hell," she said, gasping as she screwed the lid back on. "You're right, Eddie. There are no celebrities for my talk show next week. Zilch." She curled her forefinger and thumb into an O-shape, depression washing over her face.

"Well I sort of knew that, darling," Eddie said, lighting up a cigarette. "I'm listening sweetie, carry on."

"So, umm, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to be interviewed by me?" Patsy said.

Eddie froze, cigarette suspended in her mouth. "What? Me? What do you mean me, darling? I'm not famous, I'm not anything special, am I?"

"Well I know that," Patsy said brutally, "but I thought you could just – pretend."

"Pretend, darling? You want me to pretend to be famous?"

"Why not?" Patsy said, sniffing loudly. "You're all I've got Eddie."

"Think you drew the short straw there, Pats," Eddie said. She laughed nervously and lit her cigarette properly.

"So will you do it?" she pressed.

Eddie looked hesitant. "I'm not sure it would be for me, darling. I mean, what would I talk about, hmm? My whole life is a complete failure, darling. People won't even know who I am, they won't care about my woes sweetie, I'll be laughed outta there –"

"Come on Eds, we can make up a glamorous story for you, the celebrity the world forgot! Something like that?"

"Well cheers for that, darling," Eddie said.

Saffy entered the room, followed closely by Gran.

"Afternoon Mum," Saffy said. "The man from the clinic phoned me and told me how rude you were to him."

"Ugh, told-me-how-rude-you-were-to-him," Eddie said, mimicking her daughter's voice. "He was the rude one, darling. Frightened poor Pats, didn't he?"

"I've got him marked," Patsy said, leaning back against the sofa and pointing vaguely at nothing. She took another swig of vodka.

"He was only trying to be helpful, you didn't have to be so insolent," Saffy snapped.

"Insolent, darling? Insolent? You're the insolent one for nosing into people's lives! We just wanna live, sweetie! We can't be in shackles the whole time, can we?" Eddie beseeched.

Gran ambled further into the sitting room. "Hello Patsy, dear," she said happily.

"Oh…yeah…hi Mrs. M," Patsy said vaguely, now smoking. "I need an answer, Eddie!"

"An answer about what, dear?" Gran asked, interested. "I think it's very dangerous leaving the answering to Edina, you know. She's not of sound mind."

"Like you can comment on sound mind, old woman," Eddie said. "Could someone please get her outta here? God."

"Eddie!" Patsy said again.

"Answer what, Mum?" Saffy asked.

"Ugh, just this thing Patsy wants me to do for her talk show, sweetie," Eddie said.

"What thing? Don't do anything embarrassing," Saffy barked. She looked incredibly serious.

"The only embarrassing thing she'd have to say is admitting she had you," Patsy said from the sofa. Saffy scowled at her.

"Well, I – I suppose, darling. But I'm not happy, darling, not happy…" Eddie said. "Why don't you just use Saffy instead, offer her up as a sacrifice…" she muttered as an afterthought.

"A sacrifice, dear? It all sounds very barbaric," Gran said.

"Mum, what have you gotten yourself into?" Saffy asked. "You're not going on Patsy's talk show, are you?"

"Of course not, sweetheart, course not," Eddie said quietly, getting up and patting Saffy on the arm.

"Oh Eddie, one more thing," Patsy said. "It pains me to say it, but I'm going to have to pluck a few more interviewees out of the dark for this blasted talk show; you know, so it goes on for long enough. I was thinking about the little troll child, possibly Mrs. M, and that idiotic assistant of yours?"

"What?" Saffy cried.

"I agree with Saffy, darling," Eddie said, "coulda picked a better selection!"

Patsy got up and shook her head. "There is no other selection, Eddie, so I'm afraid they'll have to do. I'm already retching over the idea of sitting so close to Saffy."

"There'll be a table in between you, sweetie, it'll be fine," Eddie soothed, frowning.

"And they've all got to pretend to be famous and fabulous," Patsy finished, glugging down the vodka now. "So I suggest you wipe their memories or something and give them fabulous new ones; hypnotherapy, Eddie?"

"Not sure I can do that, sweetie," Eddie said through gritted teeth, staring around at them all.

"I don't want to do this," Saffy said staunchly, folding her arms. She looked on the verge of tears.

"I'm not sure I've got a mind to wipe, dear," Gran said.