Now some of you might not know this, but after a long, hard day of brutally murdering your favourite characters, there's nothing I like more than sitting down in a big, comfy armchair and enjoying a nice hot cup of fluffy-wuffy uwu nonsense juice.

Now I know what you're thinking, Alex, the world is dying held hostage by corporate greed and myopic, self-interested political leaders, I don't have time to check in on my favourite

Blorbo-Scrunkly-Twink-Ship drama, I've got to go eat the rich.

And I hear you, I really do.

Eating the rich is important, but so is self-care, and sometimes you've got to slow down to smell the flowers.

So with that in mind, we wanted to give you a little something to help you out, a sous-sang of silliness to send you on your way.

And so we present to you this lovingly crafted Season 1 Bonus Fluff episode, affectionately titled Plenty More Fish, which is full to the brim with positivity like friendship, love and punctuality, and is guaranteed completely organic and free from artificial horrors.

So while you're waiting for your Amazon-based exquilatine to arrive, why not sit back, relax, and enjoy a taste of our delicious nonsense.

Mmm, yum.

There you are.

What happened to the usual table?

Already taken.

What?

How are we supposed to mope about in the corner when we're in the middle of the room?

The vibes here are unconducive to bitterness.

Yeah, well, tough.

So sit your vibes down and get drinking already.

Got you a pint of your hipster piss.

IPAs aren't hipster, Colin.

They sell them in Tesco.

Almost thought you weren't going to show.

I missed the chance of seeing you moaning into your pint.

Never.

It's the better listener than you.

True, but it hardly ever calls you a sour old wanker with no taste in women or drink.

Harsh, but fair.

Speaking of...

Merry divorce!

And a happy piss-off.

What is it now, three years?

Four and twelve.

Still living the bachelor dream?

What, dying alone?

That's the plan.

Is your next of kin still that hard drive when you keep all of your porn?

Huh, you think it's just the one?

Poor, naive Alice.

So young, so foolish in the ways of love.

Speaking of...

Ah, and there it is.

Go on then, take your shots at poor little Alice.

It's been, what, a month now?

About that.

I still can't believe you got on the job after everything you said.

Hey, moaning about exes on divorce-mas is just what you do.

He's actually a good guy who just needed to catch a break.

Sure, sure.

Must be hard for you, though.

All those unfamiliar human feelings bubble into the surface.

Ew, are you trying to upset me?

Aye.

Then up your game, Becker, because I'm a stone-cold emotional fortress.

Oh, good.

Then you probably won't have a problem with what's lurking behind you.

What?

Alice!

Call in!

Oh, God.

Alice, what is Sam doing here?

I, uh...

Hey!

Am I early?

No.

Did Alice invite you?

Uh, yeah.

She said you were having a divorce party, which I assumed was just her way of staying a bit of a booze-up, so...

You see, Alice, this is what happens when everything that comes out of your mouth is a sarcastic joke.

People get confused.

Oh.

Ah.

Listen, if I'm intruding, I can...

You're here now.

What are you drinking?

Uh, IPA.

Thanks.

Alice?

Okay, so Colin's been divorced a couple of times, and as part of some bizarre cosmic joke, both of them ended up being finalised on the same day of the year.

So he and I, we've kind of got this little tradition now, where on that day, today, we get together, get pissed, and, uh...

And?

And bitch about our exes.

Oh.

Oh, I should go.

Too late for that.

Colin's already gone to get you a drink.

You duck out now, and you're as good as dead.

Sure, but...

I wouldn't worry.

He loves to see me squirm, so I'm sure he'll have a great time.

Here you go.

Thanks.

Drink it.

Uh, okay.

Well, go on, then.

Sorry?

I think what Colin is trying to say is that as the newest member of this particular bitchy subcommittee, you have to spill on your exes.

Um, okay.

So, uh, there was this girl...

I'm right here.

Hey, I'll have you know I have plenty of exes.

What, like actual humans?

Get on with it.

Right, yeah, sorry.

So, uh, her name was, uh, Kelly, and she worked at my old office in HR.

Red flag.

Did she make you sign a form?

She was nice.

That's not what I asked.

She may have needed us to declare a potential conflict of interest, but...

But that wasn't why we split up.

Christ, what was the reason, then?

Oh, it just didn't work out.

Right.

Listen, Sam.

If you're going to hang with the mean girls, you're going to have to do better than that.

What sucked about her?

What obnoxious habit did she have?

What drove you up the wall and made you want to gnaw your arm off?

Oh, I don't know.

Oh, actually, she had this weird thing where when she laughed, her tongue came, like, all the way out of her mouth.

It was so weird, I can't really do it.

It was like...

Ew.

Right?

And she was into old black and white comedies.

You know, Laurel and Hardy, the Marx Brothers, that kind of thing.

I mean, that's annoying, sure, but...

No, I mean, she was really into them.

As in, every day it was around her place, watching old movies, and every time we ended up...

I'm sure you looked very fetching dressed up as Charlie Chaplin in stockings and handcuffs.

What? No, it was nothing like that.

Although, she did ask me if I smoked cigars and seemed a bit disappointed when I said no.

Oh, Sam.

My poor little oblivious baby shrimp.

I'm telling you, it wasn't like that.

We were just talking about...

Oh, my God.

What?

She bought me a bowler hat.

I'm sorry?

What do you mean, she bought you a bowler hat?

It was a gift.

She said she thought I'd look good in it.

I bet she did.

Amazing.

It's not like I wore it out on the street or anything.

Just once or twice when...

Sam, I know you think you want normal, but I think it's pretty obvious that deep down, you only go for the truly depraved and bizarre.

Sounds about right.

Damn skippy.

Well, what about you then, huh?

I'm guessing it was non-stop horror stories when I wasn't on the scene.

Mate, you have no idea.

You are a well-adjusted genius alpha male heartthrob compared to what Alice has been dating.

I'm not that bad.

Oh, no?

So you'd be happy to hang out with Amy again then?

Look, say what you like about Amy.

Alright, I will.

She was a psycho who got you mixed up with your own brother and then stabbed him for being an imposter.

I'm sorry, what?

Okay, Colin is exaggerating.

She barely broke the skin and, in her defence, she was very high at the time.

Jesus.

Obviously we broke up after.

Yeah, a month after.

A month?

Jesus, Alice.

I was trying to say earlier, say what you like about Amy, but she was a fabulous lay.

My theory is, Alice can only get off with people who are properly batshit, you know?

Like...

God, what was his name?

Ignatius.

That was it.

Bloody Ignatius.

The man who was being hunted for the secret to Cold Fusion.

Okay, in my defence, he didn't tell me that until the second day.

That's true, because he was too busy on your first day explaining how you might need to go off-grid because he was being pursued by... what was it he said?

Despicable agents with numerous foreign powers.

And there was a second date.

He could have been a sexy super-spy.

I mean, I don't know how super he could be if he told you that on the first date.

Oh, stick it up your bowler hat.

You have no idea how bad it is out there for a trans woman with basic standards.

Right, so if I meet one, she'll have my sympathies.

You're up, Becker.

Oh, yeah.

This is your divorce party, or whatever, isn't it?

So go on, then.

Weirdest hook-up.

I don't do hook-ups.

I mostly just pay people, marry them, then divorce them.

Speaking of, you're about due to drop down on one knee again, aren't you?

I'd watch out if I were you, Sam.

If I'm on my knees near any of you lot, it'll be because I'm finally rigging the entire place to blow with you inside it.

Oh, man.

All right, then.

How about the first marriage?

What happened there?

He cheated on me with my manager.

Had been for a while.

Shit.

Right, sure.

Tragic.

Terrible breach of trust and all that.

Blah, blah, blah.

But that's not the real reason, is it, Colin?

Alice.

Come on, you don't need to...

Colin?

Um...

Might have been sort of maybe looking to break it off anyway for a while.

Oh, yeah?

Because?

Because he was turning into a crypto bro.

I'm sorry, what?

Oh, yeah, yeah.

Laugh it up.

You try living with someone when they fill their flat with bloody graphics cards running non-stop.

You never put towards the energy bill, and every conversation was just another lecture on bloody blockchain or blobcoin or whatever the latest bullshit doing the rounds on Reddit was.

That does sound...

A lot.

Yeah.

So, when I caught him messing around with Clive,

I dropped his crypto wallet in the bog, took a dump, and flushed.

Last time I checked, that shit would be worth about 1.2 million now.

Jesus Christ.

Yeah.

And that, Sam, is why we celebrate this most holy of days to drink, moan, and remind ourselves that it's absolutely the right decision to die bitter and alone.

There's plenty more fish in the sea.

And they're all covered in their own shite.

Hmm.

Well, I don't know if I'm quite at your level yet.

Still got the heart of a romantic, I guess.

Oh, we'll cut that out of you and burn it on the altar as a sacrifice to the gods of messy breakups.

I see.

And would the high priests of Heartbreak accept a pair of pints as sacrifice instead?

I suppose they could be convinced to lightly amend our dread litany.

Just as long as there isn't any of that IPA piss.

Of course you'll be missed.

I expect a full report on him next year after you wreck your life reopening that particular scrawny can of worms.

Bite me.

No thanks.

Vegetarian, remember?