I’m never fully concentrating, always simultaneously thinking a huge thought about the future or scrolling through Vinted

Some friends and I were talking, at the weekend, about the TV shows War (about a couple getting divorced) and The Diplomat (about an entirely different couple, not getting divorced). I hadn’t seen either because I was busy with Colin from Accounts. One friend had seen one show but not the other, and couldn’t remember which; a second friend had seen both and couldn’t remember anything that happened in either.

It emphatically wasn’t because they weren’t good. The second friend seemed medium-sure, in fact, that they were both great. His thesis is that he just watches so much TV that none of it can find any purchase in his memory.

After season two’s mortifying ending, the charming hit comedy is back for the last time … with sex parties, extreme cringe and a final answer to the central will-they-won’t-they

There are cliffhangers, and then there’s whatever happened at the end of Colin from Accounts’ second season. We had, by that point, witnessed protagonists Ashley and Gordon’s unconventional love story evolve from bizarre meet-cute – key stages: boob-flashing, car accident, injured dog – to soulmate-level relationship. But what starts with an exposed nipple can abruptly go tits up. On a heaving dancefloor at Ash’s best friend’s wedding, Gordon – drunk and buoyed up by the DJ dropping Slice of Heaven by Dave Dobbyn (the Oceanian equivalent of Come on Eileen, judging by the euphoric reaction) – decides to ask his girlfriend to marry him. Ash, humiliated by the circumstances, doesn’t respond. Everyone else films it and laughs. Gordon insists the whole thing was a joke and awkwardly boogies on. Then the credits roll.

If you had somehow managed to wipe this eye-watering faux pas from your mind’s eye, fear not: the Aussie rom-sitcom returns for its third and final series by replaying the agonising proposal in full. It gets worse. We discover the pair split soon after and haven’t seen each other for three years. In fact, they’ve both since found other (extremely attractive) partners: the kind but dim David and the hyper-capable and efficient Chelsea. As Ash later observes, they’ve “upgraded” – but you know their respective hearts don’t really belong to their nice new beaux.

It’s deliciously satirical, fizzes with electric chemistry – and it’s snortingly funny too. If you haven’t watched the worst named show on TV yet, do so. Right now!

Sometimes the best things in life have the worst names. The Beatles. Smeg fridges. Nintendo Wii. But top of the tree is Colin from Accounts (Monday 7 September, 10pm, BBC Two), a name so bland I almost slipped into medical unconsciousness upon hearing it. It’s worse than bland. There’s an aspect of comedy-tie zaniness to it, a “Look, we’re calling our possibly office-based sitcom the most boring thing we can think of!” tedium. One can imagine the lazy jokes, the stock characters. Within 15 minutes of watching it, I was genuinely toying with the idea of a CFA tattoo.

How did this unpromising Australian import become my favourite? By being a showcase for fearless writing, electric chemistry and delicious comic timing. Written by real-life partners Patrick Brammall and Harriet Dyer, it tracks the relationship of medical student Ashley and Gordon, a brewery owner and ball cancer survivor. The romance, like their writing, is allergic to schmaltz. Their meet-cute occurs in the street when Ashley flashes a boob at Gordon, causing him to crash his car and permanently disable a stray dog that they unwillingly adopt together. (That’s Colin. It’s not really about Colin.)

As the show takes its final bow, Patrick Brammall and Harriet Dyer reflect on ‘having a ball’ playing exes while being married with kids, ignoring notes from US TV executives and having ‘big old cries’ at the end

It began, as all great romances do, with a nipple flash. When Colin from Accounts, the little comedy that could, started airing back in 2022, the world fell in love – hard and fast. It was a surprisingly prickly Australian show about Ashley, a student doctor (Harriet Dyer), and Gordon, an older brewery owner (Patrick Brammall), who fall in love after she pops a boob at him, he hits a dog with his car, and they jointly land an astronomical vet bill and a new pet.

The show shared its name with its furriest star – full name: “Colin from accounts payable, who is working on the big merger” – and it was as charming as the title suggested, winning fans across Hollywood and the world. That Brammall and Dyer were actually a couple, now married with two kids and a dog (no wheels), just made everyone love the show even more.