The Quite Nice and Fairly Accurate Good Omens Script Book

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The Quite Nice and Fairly Accurate Good Omens Script Book Page 18

by Neil Gaiman


  NEWT

  Even better than that. I found something really interesting. I’ve discovered some unusual weather patterns. There’s a town in Oxfordshire with some very strange weather events.

  SHADWELL

  Raining blood, is it? Or raining fish? Satanic frost in summer, witherin’ the crops, after some hag got into an argument with a farmer?

  NEWT

  No. It’s just . . . it always has perfect weather for the time of year.

  Shadwell is unimpressed . . .

  SHADWELL

  Call that a phenomena?

  NEWT

  Normal weather for the time of year isn’t normal, Sergeant. Crisp autumns, and long hot Augusts? The kind of weather you used to dream of as a kid? It’s snowed there every Christmas Eve for the last eleven years.

  SHADWELL

  Not interested. Just look for witches, and witch-caused phenomenomenoms.

  NEWT

  Is this what the Witchfinder Army does? I just go through newspapers?

  SHADWELL

  It is.

  NEWT

  I thought maybe we’d go to training camps . . . It would be quicker with a search on the computer.

  SHADWELL

  Witch’s tools, boxes of the devil!

  NEWT

  Tell me about it. I don’t think they like me.

  337EXT. DES MOINES, IOWA – DAY

  TITLE CARD: IOWA, USA

  We are outside a Burger Lord Fast Food Restaurant in Des Moines, Iowa. A piece of paper blows past: it’s a lonely and deserted place.

  338INT. BURGER LORD – DAY

  It’s a real diner. There’s an old man flipping burgers. He’s a bit corpulent, has a cowlick and is undoubtedly ELVIS PRESLEY. He’s happy. He’s humming to himself – an Elvis hit. Heartbreak Hotel perhaps.

  Sable and Frannie stride in to the Burger Lord. He’s holding a briefcase. Frannie shows ID to the waitress, who is vaguely baffled.

  GOD (V.O.)

  He’s a businessman with a chain of restaurants. And he’s about to launch something new.

  As he talks, Sable opens the briefcase to reveal a hamburger, a bun, a pickle, a milkshake, and raw French fries.

  SABLE

  Artificial bun. Artificial burger. Fries that have never even seen a potato. Foodless sauces. And, we are rather proud of this: a completely artificial dill pickle.

  FRANNIE

  The shake doesn’t contain any actual food content either.

  SABLE

  Nobody’s shakes contain actual food content. Okay. Let’s try it out.

  Cut back as the food that the FRY COOK has been cooking for us is pushed off the grill into the bin. Such a waste of food! And Sable’s new, brightly-coloured food goes onto the grill, and the chips go into the oil . . .

  Frannie is telling the waitress how to present the food:

  FRANNIE

  Press this button as you hand over the Chow. And don’t call it food. It’s Chow.

  She puts a tray of food down, presses the button. A very rapid voice says:

  RAPID VOICE

  CHOW™ brand unfood contains spun, plaited and woven protein molecules, designed to be ignored by your digestive enzymes, no-cal sweeteners, oil replacements, fibrous materials, colorings, and flavorings. Chow is an edible substance and must not be confused with food. Eating Chow can help you to lose weight, hair, and kidney functions. May cause anal leakage. Enjoy your meal.

  Elvis is troubled. He hums.

  SABLE

  That man . . .

  And now, coming into the diner, is the International Express man. He’s carrying a package.

  INTERNATIONAL EXPRESS MAN

  Party name of Sable?

  SABLE

  Yes?

  INTERNATIONAL EXPRESS MAN

  Thought it was you, looked around, thought, tall gent with a beard, nice suit. Package for you, sir.

  Sable scribbles FAMINE on the clipboard and opens the package to reveal a little silver pair of antique scales.

  SABLE

  Finally!

  He gives $20 to the Express man. Turns to the female assistant.

  SABLE (CONT’D)

  I’m flying to England.

  FRANNIE

  I’ll let the jet know. When are you returning?

  SABLE

  Who knows? Cancel all my appointments.

  FRANNIE

  For how long?

  SABLE

  The foreseeable future.

  Frannie’s fingers start flying over the tablet screen.

  Elvis is still singing.

  ELVIS

  You ain’t nothing but a hound dog . . .

  SABLE

  And fire that man. He irritates me.

  The hokey Burger Lord sign is being taken down and replaced with a hipster CHOW! sign as he leaves.

  339INT. SHADWELL’S FLAT – DAY

  Shadwell notices that Newt has managed to open a window, and immediately pulls it closed.

  NEWT

  Sergeant, the village I was telling you about with perfect weather. Well, it says in the manual that witches can influence the weather . . . What if I just sort of nipped over there tomorrow? And have a look around, you know. I’ll pay my own petrol.

  Shadwell ponders this. It’s been an odd and coincidence-filled day, so he asks:

  SHADWELL

  This village. It wouldna be called Tadfield, would it?

  NEWT

  How did you know that?

  SHADWELL

  Aye. I suppose it can’t do any harm. Be here at nine o’ the clock in the morning, afore ye leave.

  NEWT

  What for?

  SHADWELL

  Yer armour of righteousness.

  340INT. CROWLEY’S FLAT, BEDROOM – EVENING

  Crowley’s bedroom. We see a MONTAGE of Crowley trying to get to sleep by lying on the bed, on the wall, then on the ceiling.

  CLOSE UP on his open snake-eyes. He’s wide awake. Then he puts on his dark glasses.

  341INT. CROWLEY’S FLAT – EVENING

  He walks through the flat. Pauses to spray a houseplant with a plant mister.

  342INT. CROWLEY’S OFFICE – EVENING

  Crowley picks up the landline. He dials a number.

  343INT. AZIRAPHALE’S BOOKSHOP – EVENING

  Aziraphale is pacing around. He looks miserable. He jumps when the phone rings, and then picks it up. We cut between them.

  CROWLEY

  It’s me. Meet me at the third alternative rendezvous.

  AZIRAPHALE

  Is that the old bandstand, the number 19 bus, or the British Museum café?

  CROWLEY

  The bandstand. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.

  344EXT. THE YOUNG’S HOUSE – EVENING

  It’s night. The lights are mostly out, but downstairs people are watching TV.

  345INT. THE YOUNG’S HOUSE – EVENING

  Adam’s parents are watching TV. Adam is sitting in the corner, reading the pile of New Aquarian magazines.

  ADAM

  Dad. Did you know there are ley lines everywhere?

  MR YOUNG

  No, Adam. Ley lines are rubbish. You’ll like this bit, Deirdre. He’s taped a gun under the chair.

  ADAM

  It’s not rubbish. They wouldn’t write about it in a magazine, if it was rubbish.

  Mr Young ignores Adam and watches a little more of the TV show.

  ADAM (CONT’D)

  There’s people from Tibet watching everything we do through hidden tunnels.

  His parents both look at him at the same time, with the same expression.

  ADAM (CONT’D)

  I think I might go to bed early, actually.

  He gets up and leaves.

  DEIRDRE

  Do you think he’s all right?

  346EXT. ST JAMES’S PARK – EVENING

  The duckpond at St James’s Park. The park is locked. Crowley is standing by the pond, waiting. He checks his wa
tch. Aziraphale hurries over.

  CROWLEY

  Any news?

  AZIRAPHALE

  Um. What kind of news would that be?

  CROWLEY

  Well? Do you have the missing Antichrist’s name, address and shoe size yet?

  AZIRAPHALE

  (guiltily)

  Shoe size? Why would I have his shoe size?

  CROWLEY

  Joke. I’ve got nothing either.

  AZIRAPHALE

  It’s the Great Plan, Crowley.

  CROWLEY

  For the record, great pustulent mangled bollocks to the Great Blasted Plan.

  AZIRAPHALE

  May you be forgiven!

  CROWLEY

  I won’t be forgiven. Not ever. That’s part of a demon’s job description. Unforgivable. That’s what I am.

  AZIRAPHALE

  You were an angel once.

  CROWLEY

  That was a long time ago. We find the boy. My agents can do it . . .

  AZIRAPHALE

  And then what? We eliminate him?

  CROWLEY

  Well . . . somebody does. I’m not personally up for killing kids.

  AZIRAPHALE

  You’re the demon. I’m the nice one. I don’t have to kill children.

  CROWLEY

  Uh-uh.

  AZIRAPHALE

  If you kill him, then the world gets a reprieve. And Heaven does not have blood on its hands.

  CROWLEY

  No blood on your hands? That’s a bit holier than thou, isn’t it?

  AZIRAPHALE

  I am a great deal holier than thou. That’s the whole point.

  CROWLEY

  Then you should kill the boy yourself. Holi-ly.

  AZIRAPHALE

  I’m not killing anybody.

  CROWLEY

  This is ridiculous. You are ridiculous. I don’t even know why I’m still talking to you.

  AZIRAPHALE

  Frankly, neither do I.

  CROWLEY

  Enough. I’m leaving.

  Aziraphale calls after him . . .

  AZIRAPHALE

  You can’t leave, Crowley. There isn’t anywhere to go.

  Crowley looks back. He looks at Aziraphale. Above them, a beautiful starry sky. And Crowley softens.

  CROWLEY

  Big universe. Even if this all ends up in a puddle of burning goo, we could go off together.

  AZIRAPHALE

  ‘Go off together?’ Listen to yourself.

  CROWLEY

  How long have we been friends? Six thousand years?

  AZIRAPHALE

  Friends? We aren’t friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don’t even like you.

  CROWLEY

  You do.

  AZIRAPHALE

  (blurts out the truth)

  Even if I did know where the Antichrist was, I wouldn’t tell you. We are on opposite sides.

  CROWLEY

  We’re on our side.

  AZIRAPHALE

  There isn’t an ‘our side’, Crowley. Not any more. It’s over.

  Crowley takes a deep breath, as if he’s going to keep talking. And then he lets it all go.

  CROWLEY

  Right. Well, then. Have a nice doomsday.

  347INT. ADAM’S BEDROOM – NIGHT

  Adam’s in bed, with a torch/flashlight, reading New Aquarian magazines. He has a bag of sherbet lemons, which he is sucking. (The sherbet lemons, not the bag.)

  ADAM

  Brilliant.

  He picks up the next copy. The headline on the cover of this one is ‘NUCLEAR POWER? NO THANKS! CAN WE MAKE PLANET EARTH A NUCLEAR-FREE ZONE?!’

  Adam is getting sleepy. He puts down his sherbet lemons. He drops the magazine. Before he falls asleep he manages to turn out the light. And we hear WHISPERY VOICES. They are saying things like:

  WHISPERY VOICES

  You can do it. You can change it. Fix it, Adam. It’s getting closer. It’s getting stronger.

  And Adam sleeps. A moment of perfect peace and then . . .

  348EXT. TURNING POINT NUCLEAR POWER STATION – NIGHT

  We hear LOUD klaxons going off.

  349INT. TURNING POINT CONTROL ROOM – NIGHT

  A nuclear power control room. SMYTHE is sleepily staring at the controls. He’s baffled. HORTENSE GANDER, a Shift Charge Engineer, comes in. RED LIGHTS are flashing. The klaxon continues to sound. The huge room is filled with dials, and as we watch, swathes of the dials go down to zero, and areas of the wall of dials go completely dark.

  HORTENSE

  That’s a bit impossible.

  SMYTHE

  Yeah. What do we do?

  Hortense pulls out her phone. She thumbs it, and is apparently calling ‘Mr Whippy’.

  HORTENSE

  You don’t do anything. I’m going to wake up the station manager.

  350INT. STATION MANAGER’S BEDROOM – NIGHT

  The STATION MANAGER’s mobile phone starts playing a happy, inappropriate song like NELLIE THE ELEPHANT. The screen on his phone says ‘The Cornetto’. His hand fumbles for it, answers . . .

  STATION MANAGER

  You want to what?

  351INT. TURNING POINT CONTROL ROOM – NIGHT

  Hortense is looking at the dials. She’s on the phone.

  HORTENSE

  I want to open the reactor.

  352INT. STATION MANAGER’S BEDROOM – NIGHT

  The station manager turns on the light by his bed.

  STATION MANAGER

  Is this a joke?

  353INT. TURNING POINT CONTROL ROOM – NIGHT

  Hortense seems unruffled.

  HORTENSE

  Two hundred and forty megawatts of power are currently being produced by this power station, Eric. It’s just, according to our indicators, nothing’s producing them.

  STATION MANAGER

  I can’t just tell you to open up the reactor, Hortense.

  HORTENSE

  No Eric. Obviously not. But you can call someone who can.

  354INT. MINISTER’S BEDROOM – NIGHT

  An important male middle-aged MINISTER is awake, naked, sitting on the bed, and grumpy. Next to him is a MALE SEX WORKER, who is sitting, grumpily mouthing, ‘I’m on the clock, you know’, and tapping his wrist . . .

  MINISTER

  What do you mean, I have to authorise it? Is there anyone else? I KNOW I’m the minister. Well then, yes. I authorise you to open the bloody thing up.

  355INT. NUCLEAR REACTOR – NIGHT

  Hortense and the station manager are unscrewing a huge screw-door. Smythe is checking the Geiger counter . . . it’s silent:

  SMYTHE

  Nothing. Not even the normal background radiation.

  STATION MANAGER

  How can we be putting out power with a dead reactor?

  SMYTHE

  Got me on that, chief.

  Hortense throws open the door and looks down at the room. It’s a circular room the size of a grey squash court, with pipes coming in . . . but not connecting to anything. The room is utterly empty.

  HORTENSE

  Oh. There’s something you don’t see every day. An enormous room without a nuclear reactor in it.

  STATION MANAGER

  But . . . There’s nothing there.

  SMYTHE

  Not nothing, chief. Look . . . what’s that?

  And we move in on the only thing in the room . . . A SHERBET LEMON.

  HORTENSE

  It looks like a sherbet lemon.

  CUT TO:

  356INT. ADAM’S BEDROOM – NIGHT

  And Adam is blissfully asleep. The bag of sherbert lemons spilled on his night table, on a pile of New Aquarians. We hear the satanic whisper voices, but they are too quiet to make out what they are whispering . . .

  WHISPERY VOICES

  Mend it all. End it all . . .

  And Buddy Holly’s ‘Everyday’ starts, this time sounding almost like a lul
laby, as we . . .

  FADE TO BLACK.

  Episode Four

  Saturday Morning Funtime

  401EXT. MORBILLO DECK – DAY – PRESENT DAY

 

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