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The Quite Nice and Fairly Accurate Good Omens Script Book

Page 3

by Neil Gaiman


  HASTUR

  ‘They love you down there.’ And what an opportunity. Ligur here would give his right arm to be you tonight.

  LIGUR

  Somebody’s right arm, anyway.

  Hastur has produced a clipboard.

  HASTUR

  Sign here.

  Crowley writes A. J. Crowley on the clipboard.

  LIGUR

  No. Your real name.

  Crowley uses the tip of his finger, and writes a sigil which burns where he’s touched it. The entire sheet of paper goes up like flash paper.

  Ligur holds out the large wicker basket. It could be a dog-basket, but it’s the wrong shape . . . Crowley looks dejected.

  CROWLEY

  Now what?

  HASTUR

  You will receive instructions. Why so glum? The moment we have been working for all these centuries is at hand!

  CROWLEY

  (dully)

  Centuries.

  LIGUR

  Our moment of eternal triumph awaits!

  Crowley is forcing a smile. It does not convince anyone.

  CROWLEY

  (dully)

  Triumph.

  HASTUR

  And you will be a tool of that glorious destiny!

  CROWLEY

  (dully)

  Glorious. Tool. Yeah.

  He takes the basket from Ligur.

  CROWLEY (CONT’D)

  Okay. I’ll, er, be off then. Get it over with. Not that I want to get it over with. Obviously. But you know me. Keen.

  Two implacable demon faces. Crowley backs away down the path.

  CROWLEY (CONT’D)

  So I’ll be popping along. See you guys ar— see you. Er. Great. Fine. Ciao.

  In the mist. We hear the Bentley car door slam.

  LIGUR

  Wossat mean, ‘Ciao’?

  HASTUR

  It’s Italian. It means ‘food’.

  125INT. AZIRAPHALE’S BOOKSHOP – NIGHT – 2007

  A CLOSED sign is on the door. A glass of wine is poured. Now we see an antique gramophone needle descend onto a record.

  Aziraphale settles himself incredibly comfortably into a chair as the music begins: Schubert’s String Quintet.

  A huge, happy smile crosses Aziraphale’s face as the melodies wash over him.

  This is a man at peace.

  126INT. CROWLEY’S BENTLEY – NIGHT – 2007

  GOD (V.O.)

  Crowley was all in favour of Armageddon in general terms, but it was one thing to work to bring it about and quite another for it to actually happen.

  Crowley is driving. He looks miserable, stressed and upset. The mystery basket is on the back seat. He turns on the radio.

  CROWLEY

  Oh. Shit . . .

  NEWSREADER (V.O.)

  And the FT index finished up five points today, after vigorous trading.

  CROWLEY

  . . . Ohshitohshitohshit. Why me?

  And the voice of the newsreader becomes the voice of SATAN . . .

  NEWSREADER (V.O.)

  Because you earned it, Crowley. Didn’t you? What you did to the M25 was a stroke of demonic genius, darling.

  127INT. HELL, ROOM 515 – 1973

  Flashback. A very dark room where several demons (including, if possible, BEELZEBUB and Ligur) are sat, watching a presentation by Crowley. Hastur is in the front row and the most unimpressed. Crowley’s in 1973 clothes, giant flared trousers and boots, possibly with a mullet and sideburns, standing in front of a screen.

  We are looking from their point of view:

  A big drawing of the M25. Crowley is making changes on it with a pen as he talks.

  CROWLEY

  So thanks to three computer hacks, selective bribery, and me moving some markers across a field one night, the M25 London Orbital Motorway, which was meant to look like this, will, when it opens in 1986, actually look like this, and represent . . .

  And he replaces the slightly amended M25 picture with the Odegra symbol . . .

  CROWLEY (CONT’D)

  . . . the dread sigil Odegra in the language of the Dark Priesthood of Ancient Mu. Odegra means ‘Hail the Great Beast, Devourer of Worlds!’ Can I hear a wahoo?

  EVERYBODY

  (dutifully)

  Hail the Great Beast, Devourer of Worlds.

  And now we see a map of the South of England with Odegra around London, where the M25 is.

  CROWLEY

  Once it’s built, the millions of motorists grumbling their way around it are going to be like water on a prayer wheel. They’ll grind out an endless fog of low-grade evil that will encircle the whole of London. Yes, Duke Hastur?

  Hastur has his hand up.

  HASTUR

  What’s a computer?

  128INT. CROWLEY’S BENTLEY – NIGHT – 2007

  And the conversation continues.

  CROWLEY

  The M25. Yes. Well, glad it went down so well. Yup. Leave it to me.

  SATAN (V.O.)

  That is what we are doing, Crowley. But if anything goes wrong, then those involved will suffer greatly. Even you, Crowley. Especially you.

  Crowley nods. He’s terrified.

  SATAN (CONT’D)

  Here are your instructions. This is the big one, Crowley.

  And Crowley FREEZES for a moment, as information is downloaded directly into his brain. (Perhaps, from behind the dark glasses, his eyes could glow for a moment.)

  A bad idea to do this while he’s driving, because a lorry is heading towards him in the fog.

  At the last moment, he gets his brain back, and twists the steering wheel hard, slamming out of the lorry’s way, a manoeuvre that throws the wicker basket across the back seat.

  And now, for the first time, we can see what it is: a wicker bassinet. And the sleeping NEWBORN BABY inside it opens its eyes, and it wails . . .

  129INT. JAPANESE RESTAURANT – NIGHT – 2007

  Aziraphale walks in. The SUSHI CHEF points to his favourite table, kept free for him.

  SUSHI CHEF

  Here is a selection of your favourite rolls, Honoured Aziraphale-San.

  (Aziraphale-san no sukina makizushi o tokubetsu ni torisoroete oki mashita . . .)

  The chef, who puts them, along with a cup of steaming tea, on the table, bows. Aziraphale bows back.

  AZIRAPHALE

  Thank you, chef, that’s very kind of you.

  (Taisho, sore wa wazawaza)

  He sits at his empty table. Smiles as he eats his first nibble. Life is good.

  And then his smile vanishes. He looks up: in the mirror on the wall, there is someone standing beside him. And we pull back off the mirror to see . . .

  . . . the angel GABRIEL is indeed now miraculously standing next to Aziraphale. He is tall, fit, handsome and charismatic: a leader of angels, and he smiles angelically at Aziraphale.

  GABRIEL

  Mind if I join you?

  Aziraphale obviously minds, but he smiles, and says:

  AZIRAPHALE

  Gabriel. What an unexpected pleasure. It’s been—

  GABRIEL

  Quite a while, now.

  He picks up a piece of sushi, examines it, unimpressed.

  GABRIEL (CONT’D)

  Why do you consume that? You’re an angel.

  AZIRAPHALE

  It’s sushi. It’s nice. You dip it in soy sauce and . . . it’s what humans do, and if I am going to be living here among them . . . well, keeping up appearances . . . tea?

  GABRIEL

  I do not sully the temple of my celestial body with gross matter.

  AZIRAPHALE

  Obviously not. Nice suit.

  GABRIEL

  Yes. I like the clothes. Pity they won’t be around for much longer.

  AZIRAPHALE

  They won’t?

  GABRIEL

  We have reliable information that things are afoot.

  AZIRAPHALE

  They are?

  GABRIEL

&nb
sp; My informants suggest that the demon Crowley may be involved. You need to keep him under observation, without, of course, letting him know that’s what you’re doing . . .

  AZIRAPHALE

  I do know. I’ve been on Earth doing this since the beginning.

  GABRIEL

  So has Crowley. It’s a miracle he hasn’t spotted you, yet.

  (a beautiful smile)

  I know. Miracles are what we do.

  130EXT. HOSPITAL – NIGHT – 2007

  A green Morris Traveller is driving cautiously along the road outside the hospital. Inside the car are DEIRDRE YOUNG and her husband, ARTHUR YOUNG. He is in his forties; she is in her late thirties and hugely pregnant. This is her first child. But everything’s very normal . . .

  GOD (V.O.)

  Meet Deirdre and Arthur Young. They live in the Oxfordshire village of Tadfield.

  DEIRDRE

  Are we there yet? Arthur? Four minutes apart.

  MR YOUNG

  It’s definitely this way. It’s just the roads look all different in the dark . . .

  DEIRDRE

  The nuns said to come in when they were four to five minutes apart.

  MR YOUNG

  It’s a bit, um. Well. Nuns.

  DEIRDRE

  Do we have any egg and cress sandwiches?

  Deirdre reaches for a sandwich, and as she does so, has a contraction . . .

  A sirening motorcade zooms past them – an ambulance, followed by three black cars.

  DEIRDRE (CONT’D)

  Arthur. Just follow them.

  131INT. AMBULANCE – NIGHT – 2007

  Suddenly RAPID-CUTTING, ultra-adrenaline: the ambulance is going at speed. In it is HARRIET DOWLING, the movie-star beautiful wife of the American Cultural Attaché to London. Very pregnant. Standing near her, and being thrown around, are TWO SECRET SERVICE AGENTS. Holding a video screen, and a video camera. It’s a pre-Skype video hookup from the old days.

  GOD (V.O.)

  Meet Harriet Dowling and her husband, American diplomat Thaddeus Dowling.

  On the video screen we can see TAD (THADDEUS J.) DOWLING, cultural attaché, back in the US, soon to be presidential hopeful, in a White House meeting. He’s talking to her:

  TAD DOWLING

  Breathe, honey. Just breathe.

  HARRIET

  I am breathing, goddammit, Tad. Why aren’t you here?

  TAD DOWLING

  Honey. I’m with you. I’m just also here with the President.

  PRESIDENT BUSH

  Hey, Harriet. Sorry we had to borrow your husband.

  TAD DOWLING

  Hon, I’d better get back to the strategy conference.

  HARRIET

  You are meant to be with me, you useless sonofabitch.

  (contraction)

  TAD DOWLING

  Honey, you’re going to the best place we could find at short notice. The, uh . . .

  SECRET SERVICE #1

  St Beryl’s Convent Birthing Hospital, sir.

  TAD DOWLING

  St Beryl’s. Right. Honey, you just keep on having the baby. They’re recording the whole thing. Birth is the single most joyous co-experience that two human beings can share, and I’m not going to miss a second of it.

  PRESIDENT BUSH

  Tad. If we can return to the matter in hand?

  TAD DOWLING

  I’ll get back to you, honey.

  And the screen goes blank. Mrs Dowling bites back some really impressive swearing.

  132INT. ST BERYL’S CONVENT MAIN HALL – NIGHT – 2007

  An old convent, part of which has been converted into a small birthing hospital. We are looking at a dozen NUNS. The MOTHER SUPERIOR is facing them, with charts behind her. The SATANIC nature of the place is given away by the upside-down cross on the wall beside the Mother Superior, who holds a pointer.

  On the chart: a stylised mother.

  MOTHER SUPERIOR

  At some point this evening, Mrs Dowling will arrive. She will undoubtedly have secret service agents with her; you will all ensure they see nothing untoward.

  She sticks a stylised baby on the sheet beside the mother.

  MOTHER SUPERIOR (CONT’D)

  Sister Theresa and I will deliver the Dowlings’ child in Room Four. Once he has been born, we will remove the baby boy from the mother, and give her back our master’s child.

  She moves the baby to the far side of the sheet, swaps it with an identical baby but with horns, who is now beside the mother.

  MOTHER SUPERIOR (CONT’D)

  Any questions?

  SISTER MARY LOQUACIOUS begins, hesitating, to raise a hand. A sharp look from SISTER GRACE VOLUBLE and she lowers her hand.

  MOTHER SUPERIOR (CONT’D)

  Very good. Everything is ready. Tonight, it begins.

  But now SISTER MARY has raised her hand . . .

  MOTHER SUPERIOR (CONT’D)

  Sister Mary Loquacious. You have a question?

  SISTER MARY LOQUACIOUS

  Yes, excuse me, Mother Superior, but I was wondering where the other baby was going to come from, not the American baby, I mean that’s obvious, that’s just the birds and the bees, but the, you know—

  MOTHER SUPERIOR

  Master Crowley is on his way with our dark Lord to be, Sister Mary. We do not need to know more than that. We are Satanic Nuns of the Chattering Order of Saint Beryl. And tonight is what our order was created for. Sister Grace, you’re on duty reception. Sisters Maria Verbose and Katherine Prolix, you are there to assist Sister Theresa, the rest of you know your duties.

  We can hear the ambulance siren drawing up outside.

  MOTHER SUPERIOR (CONT’D)

  Places!

  And the nuns begin to move, and as they do, they begin to chat to each other, each one saying whatever’s on her mind.

  SISTER MARY LOQUACIOUS

  Excuse me. Mother Superior. I didn’t get a job. Probably an oversight.

  MOTHER SUPERIOR

  Yes. Yes, of course. You could make sure that there are biscuits. The kind with pink icing. I think we had a tin in the convent larder.

  Mother Superior reaches out and tips the upside-down cross the right-way up. And she SMILES.

  133EXT. ST BERYL’S CONVENT – NIGHT – 2007

  Behind the ambulance and the motorcade of black cars, we see a green Morris Traveller.

  DEIRDRE

  Right.

  134INT. ST BERYL’S CONVENT RECEPTION – NIGHT – 2007

  We watch as two things are happening at the same time.

  Harriet Dowling is wheeled in, followed by a Secret Service man with a video camera, OTHER SECRET SERVICE MEN saying things like ‘Clear!’ into their earpieces, and all is commotion . . .

  Meanwhile Mr and Mrs Young walk up to the front desk. He’s carrying a little suitcase. Sister Grace Voluble is at the desk.

  DEIRDRE

  Excuse me. Deirdre Young. Contractions now four minutes apart.

  SISTER GRACE VOLUBLE

  Welcome to St Beryl’s, Mrs Young. We weren’t expecting you until next week.

  Deirdre turns to Mr Young, takes the suitcase.

  DEIRDRE

  Now Arthur will be with me, while I’m in labour . . .

  SISTER GRACE VOLUBLE

  I’m afraid not. We believe fathers just . . . complicate the process for everybody. We’ll let him know when to come up . . .

  DEIRDRE

  But—

  Mr Young looks relieved.

  MR YOUNG

  Not going to argue with nuns. Nurses. Know what they’re doing, Deirdre. I’ll see you when it’s . . .

  Deirdre glares at him as she is taken away by several nuns. An ELDERLY NUN looks at Mr Young as he walks out of the door and says,

  ELDERLY NUN

  She’ll be in Room Three.

  CUT TO:

  135EXT. ST BERYL’S CONVENT – NIGHT – 2007

  A vintage Bentley pulls up. Crowley gets out, grabs the hamper with the
baby in it and heads towards the cloisters, leaving the car’s lights on, a demon in a hurry with a lot on his mind.

  GOD (V.O.)

  It may help to understand human affairs to know that most of the great triumphs and tragedies of history are caused, not by people being fundamentally good or fundamentally bad, but by people being fundamentally people.

  He spots Mr Young loitering by a black motorcade car and assumes he is something to do with the US embassy business . . .

 

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