Fleabag Play Script [2024]

This piece captures the play’s essential loneliness, its scab-picking humor, and the raw address to the audience as both confessor and voyeur.

So. The guinea pig died. Not a metaphor. An actual guinea pig. My friend’s. Well, she’s not my friend now, obviously. I was housesitting. I was supposed to water the fern and not kill the rodent. I did one of those things. Guess which. fleabag play script

Welcome to the mess. It’s got central heating and a broken lock. Please, take a seat. There’s wine in the glass if you want it. Or don’t. I won’t be offended. I’ll just assume you’re dead. This piece captures the play’s essential loneliness, its

That look. I know that look. It’s the “oh, you’re still doing this” look. My dad has that look. He wears it like a cravat. Not a metaphor

Cracker

I miss my best friend. I know you’re supposed to say that quietly, into a pillow, with a glass of white wine and a Joni Mitchell record. But I’m saying it here. To you. With red wine and no record. Because the needle’s broken. Because I broke it. Because I break things. Not on purpose. That’s the worst part. I break them with love.