by Neil Gaiman
Start on CAPTAIN VINCENT, played, if possible, by WILLIAM SHATNER, talking into a dictaphone. Slow pull back to reveal, first that the captain is on the bridge of the Morbillo, a relatively small, high-tech very fancy luxury cruise ship.
CAPTAIN VINCENT (V.O.)
Captain’s log, pleasure cruiser Morbillo. Was sailing south-south-west on course for Hawaii when we realised that something was amiss.
402EXT. MORBILLO DECK – NIGHT
Earlier: the FIRST MATE is pointing down, towards the ocean. The captain looks down and sounds like William Shatner as Kirk when he says . . .
CAPTAIN VINCENT
But that’s . . . impossible . . .
And we pull back to see that the ship is not on the ocean. It’s aground, on a FANTASTIC LANDSCAPE OF PYRAMIDS AND SUCHLIKE. The landscape is a seaweed-covered mash-up of H. P. Lovecraft and Ancient Egypt.
CAPTAIN VINCENT (V.O.)
It appears that a vast expanse of sea-bed has risen up beneath us in the night, revealing the sunken city of Atlantis.
Now we see the ATLANTEANS: they are all wearing old brass diving helmets, or things like fishbowls on their heads, and white robes. They are doing cruise-like things: shuffleboard and queueing for food and such . . .
CAPTAIN VINCENT (V.O.)
Old men in long robes and diving helmets have come aboard the ship and are mingling happily with the passengers, who think we organised this for their amusement. The High Priest has just won the quoits contest.
Final shot: our captain presenting the HIGH PRIEST with a tiny silver sports presentation award. They both smile for the camera. The High Priest is SO HAPPY.
403EXT. TADFIELD LANE – MORNING
The Them are walking down the lane towards Hogback Wood, with Dog at their heels. Adam is talking. He’s carrying a pile of dog-eared New Aquarian magazines . . .
ADAM
You have to read them too. I learned all this amazing stuff they don’t teach us at school. There was a man called Charles Fort who could make it rain fish!
BRIAN
Cooked fish?
ADAM
Course not. That would be stupid. Live fish.
PEPPER
Adam, I still don’t understand the thing you were telling us about alien spaceships. If I was an alien I wouldn’t go around giving people messages of universal peace and goodwill. I’d say,
(Darth Vader)
‘THISS IS A LASER BLASHTER. PREPARE TO DIE, REBEL SWINE.’
WENSLEYDALE
I’d say that too, actually, if I was an alien in a flying saucer.
BRIAN
Or ‘Exterbinate’.
ADAM
Obviously the aliens used to do that. Now they give messages of global peace and cosmic harmony, and the government hushes it all up.
WESLEYDALE
Why?
ADAM
It’s what they do. They hush up aliens and nuclear reactors and, and they hush up the people from Tibet who have secret tunnels and who are listening to everything we say.
They all look around as if they are looking for tunnels. Even Dog. Pepper, who has her doubts about all this, finally says them aloud.
PEPPER
Adam, I don’t think this stuff is, you know . . . Real. It’s made up.
Adam gives her a sharp look. Dog looks at her and does a small growl. A beat: is Adam going to get angry? Then he grins and . . .
ADAM
Things on the internet can be made up. But this is magazines. Course it’s real. Just like the city of Atlantis.
WENSLEYDALE
Actually, I don’t think Atlantis is a thing.
ADAM
It’s under the sea. And people live there.
WENSLEYDALE
How can they breathe?
BRIAN
I bet they wear diving helmets.
ADAM
Probably.
PEPPER
Do you believe that’s true?
And again Adam seems, well, spooky.
ADAM
Of course it’s true. What I say is true.
And he believes things, and they happen . . .
By now they’ve reached their base in Hogback Wood. They are getting ready to play.
BRIAN
Bags I be from Atlantis.
WENSLEYDALE
Actually, I think we should play Tibetans in secret tunnels.
ADAM
I want to play Charles Fort. He was . . .
BRIAN
The one who made it rain fish.
WENSLEYDALE
Excuse me. How? I mean, fish don’t fall from the sky. Unless there’s another sea up there which I don’t actually think there is.
BRIAN
Maybe the fish come from Atlantis and shoot up through the sky and then come down . . .
Adam wishes he’d thought of that.
PEPPER
I think we should play Charles Fort making it rain fish. And we should play Atlantis. Is there anything else in those magazines, Adam?
ADAM
(beat)
Yeah. I know so much stuff now.
TITLES SEQUENCE
404EXT. A PARK – DAY
TITLE CARD: SATURDAY MORNING FUN TIME
Aziraphale is looking for someone. He spies a human statue dressed as an angel, with wings. It’s not him.
The archangel Gabriel, whom we have met before, is jogging towards us. Aziraphale spots him, tries and fails to attract his attention, then starts running awkwardly beside him.
AZIRAPHALE
It’s me.
GABRIEL
I know it’s you, Aziraphale.
AZIRAPHALE
Yes. Look. We have to get the word upstairs, to, to the Big Boss. There are prophecies.
GABRIEL
And what’s in human prophecies that matters to us?
AZIRAPHALE
The kraken wakes and rises from the sea floor. So does Atlantis. The rain forests return. And that’s just for starters. Armageddon is coming. I’m fairly certain it starts today. Just after teatime.
GABRIEL
Exactly. Right on schedule. I really don’t see what the problem is.
AZIRAPHALE
Look, will you please slow down, just a minute!
Gabriel stops. Aziraphale is panting . . .
GABRIEL
Well?
AZIRAPHALE
I just . . . I just thought there was something we could do.
GABRIEL
There is. We can fight. And we can win!
AZIRAPHALE
But there doesn’t have to be a war.
GABRIEL
Of course there does. Otherwise, how could we win it? Wrap up anything you have to wrap up down here. Report back to active service. And . . .
He reaches out and pats Aziraphale’s stomach.
GABRIEL (CONT’D)
Lose the gut. You’re a lean, mean, fighting machine. What are you?
AZIRAPHALE
Um. I’m . . .
But Gabriel has jogged off.
AZIRAPHALE (CONT’D)
(to himself)
I’m soft.
He looks at the world. GABRIEL (miraculously back) taps him on the shoulder. Aziraphale jumps.
GABRIEL
Nearly forgot. According to our records, you were issued with a flaming sword. You haven’t lost it?
AZIRAPHALE
What, like I’m going to just give it away or something?
Gabriel gives him an approving look.
405EXT. A ROAD NEAR A RIVER – EARLY MORNING
Sunrise. The sky is a vivid shade of red.
TITLE CARD: SATURDAY
Then a beat, then:
TITLE CARD: THE LAST DAY OF THE WORLD
We are on the outskirts of a town, or rather on the ring road that goes around it. Somewhere very rural with a big, bad road. Everything feels pretty and quiet until, with a ROAR—
A lorry comes barreling round the bend, spee
ding. Queen’s ‘Another One Bites the Dust’ is playing on the radio. The unshaven DRIVER looks sleepy, and chugs a pill back with some coffee.
406INT. INTERNATIONAL EXPRESS MAN’S BEDROOM – MORNING
A nice little suburban bedroom. The International Express man is getting dressed. From the bed, his wife stirs.
EXPRESS WIFE
Lesley? Come back to bed.
INTERNATIONAL EXPRESS MAN
Can’t, love. Delivery to make.
EXPRESS WIFE
On a Saturday morning?
INTERNATIONAL EXPRESS MAN
At least it’s local. Two deliveries and then I’m done.
EXPRESS WIFE
Lesley . . . Who are these deliveries for?
INTERNATIONAL EXPRESS MAN
I don’t know, love. Someone important. Head office said that the job was booked about six thousand years ago.
EXPRESS WIFE
They were joking.
INTERNATIONAL EXPRESS MAN
Well, the company’s only eighty years old. But I saw the paperwork . . . Anyway. Ours is not to reason why. Ours is to deliver packages.
EXPRESS WIFE
Love you . . . tiger.
INTERNATIONAL EXPRESS MAN
Love you, Maud.
He puts on his cap, in front of the mirror.
407EXT. INTERNATIONAL EXPRESS MAN’S HOUSE/INT. VAN – MORNING
Inside the van. The door opens and the International Express man looks in: nothing in there but a package and an envelope. He ticks it off on his clipboard.
Then he climbs into the driver’s seat and heads off. It’s early in the morning and nobody else is up.
408INT. HEAVEN – DAY
Michael approaches Gabriel, who is sitting at a desk with a beautiful view.
GABRIEL
I still need the battle formation strategy.
MICHAEL
It’s on the way. I may be out of line here, but I’ve been following up on Aziraphale’s comments during our last meeting.
GABRIEL
I’m disappointed in him. Not thinking like an angel.
MICHAEL
I went back through the Earth observation files. There may be an explanation.
Michael puts some black-and-white photographs down in front of Gabriel.
Awkward, paparazzi-style photos of Aziraphale and Crowley in conversation – in Victorian days in St James’s Park, eleven years ago in St James’s Park, on a bus together . . .
GABRIEL
I’m sure there’s a perfectly innocent explanation.
MICHAEL
Of course. Would you have any objection to me following this up, using backchannels?
GABRIEL
There are no backchannels, Michael.
MICHAEL
Obviously not.
409INT. HEAVEN, A STAIRWELL – DAY
Even the stairwell has a view. Michael pulls out a communication device that looks expensive and advanced.
MICHAEL
It’s me. It’s our man Aziraphale. Is there any possibility that he’s working for you? No? Well, then, you might want to investigate the activities of the demon Crowley. Might be playing his own game. Word to the wise. No, I’m telling you that you can’t trust him . . . Of course you can trust me. I’m an angel.
410INT. HELL – AN OFFICE
Ligur is at his cramped desk, in a tiny office. He puts down an old, stained telephone from the 1960s.
LIGUR
Oh Crowley, Crowley, Crowley. What have you been playing at?
And then he growls . . .
411INT. CROWLEY’S OFFICE – NIGHT
A globe of the world. We’re looking at the UK. Then it spins slowly. Then we see America go past, and we start to pull back.
CROWLEY
England’s out. America’s out. Atlantis didn’t exist yesterday, exists today, still out. Everywhere is going to burn.
Crowley has a globe in the corner of the office, and is pushing it with his finger.
He grabs a big book of astronomy, flips it open to a picture of the moon, then to beautiful Hubble-style photos of outer space . . .
CROWLEY (CONT’D)
(to himself)
The moon? No atmosphere. No night life. Alpha Centauri . . . That’s always nice at this time of year . . . if you can run far enough, you don’t have to hide . . .
(then, impressed in spite of himself)
Nice nebula. Look at that. I helped build that one . . .
He closes the book, and looks up, and talks to God, in the classical fashion.
CROWLEY (CONT’D)
(to God)
I only ever asked questions. That’s all it took to be a demon in the old days. Great Plan? Hey! God! Are you listening? Show me a Great Plan! Okay, I know you’re testing them, you said you were going to be testing them. But you shouldn’t test them to destruction . . .
Crowley stares down at the stars in the book, or out of the window at the stars above . . ..
CROWLEY (CONT’D)
(quietly)
Not to the end of the world.
412EXT. A BUSY ROAD NEAR A RIVER – MORNING
The International Express man parks his van on the verge.
Then he opens the back. Takes out the package, leaving the envelope behind.
He looks right, left, right again, and steps out into the road and as he starts to cross: VROOOOOM! A juggernaut lorry comes past.
A shot: the road’s empty; what happened to him?
Ah. He was in the ditch by the side of the road. He threw himself on top of the package. Now he’s getting up, putting his glasses back on and his cap. He’s muttering to himself.
INTERNATIONAL EXPRESS MAN
Shouldn’t be allowed, bloody lorries, no respect for other road users, what I always say, what I always say is remember that without a car, son, you’re just a pedestrian too . . .
He brushes himself off, and walks down to the river bank.
413EXT. THE RIVER BANK – MORNING
White, last seen on a polluted ship, is sitting looking at the water.
They are wistful and happy, and what they are looking at is foam, sludge, plastic bags and ick of all kinds floating on top of the water.
WHITE
Look at it.
The International Express man is walking along the bank. His face is a study.
GOD (V.O.)
In the old days, and it wasn’t that long ago really, there was an angler every dozen yards, children played here, courting couples came here to hold hands, and to get all lovey-dovey in the Sussex sunset. He did that with Maud, before they were married. They came here to spoon and, on one memorable occasion, fork.
The International Express man reaches White.
INTERNATIONAL EXPRESS MAN
Party name of Chalky, sir?
White nods listlessly, but doesn’t look at him.
WHITE
Look at that river.
INTERNATIONAL EXPRESS MAN
Yes, sir. It’s the pollution. Progress, you could call it.
WHITE
It’s just so damned beautiful.
INTERNATIONAL EXPRESS MAN
Funny old world isn’t it and no mistake. I mean you go all over the world delivering and then you wind up practically in your own back yard, so to speak. I’ve been to the Middle East, and to Dez Moines, and that’s in America, sir, and now here I am, and here’s your parcel, sir.
And he shows them the parcel. White seems in no hurry to take it.
INTERNATIONAL EXPRESS MAN (CONT’D)
You have to sign for it, sir.
He hands them a clipboard and pen. The moment White touches the pen, it starts to leak. We can see a P and then just a splodge. They hand back the pen.
INTERNATIONAL EXPRESS MAN (CONT’D)
Red sky in the morning, shepherd’s warning. Or is it sailor’s warning?
WHITE
Everybody’s warning.
The International Express man has
no idea what they are talking about.
INTERNATIONAL EXPRESS MAN
Very good, sir.
WHITE
Or very bad. Depends where you’re standing. It’s good if you’re us.
The International Express man walks away. White rips off the packaging, brown paper and bubble wrap. They drop it into the river.
GOD (V.O.)