by Neil Gaiman
He’s waiting for the end of the world. Out of time. Out of hope.
He smiles, despite himself, at the antics of something cartoony on the screen that we cannot see.
We see from his POV, preferably stop motion, but if not, people in costumes: THREE BUNNIES, dancing, holding up signs saying SATURDAY, MORNING and FUN TIME.
Then one of the bunnies jerks and pulls off its head. In the costume is Hastur.
HASTUR
What the, what the HEAVEN is going on, Crowley? What have you done?
CROWLEY
Mmm. Hastur. Hey. Not following you. How do you mean?
HASTUR
The boy called Warlock. We brought him to the fields of Megiddo. The dog is not with him. The child knows nothing of the great war. He is not our master’s son. He said I smelled of poo.
CROWLEY
You can see his point—
On the screen, the cartoon Hastur, overcome with fury, thrusts his fist into a bunny, which dies.
HASTUR
You’re dead meat. You’re bloody history.
CROWLEY
Obviously the way you smell is a sensitive topic.
HASTUR
Stay where you are. We’re coming to collect you.
Hastur vanishes from the screen. The only surviving bunny looks sadly at the dead bunny. He takes off his hat in respect. Then he looks out of the screen, as if he doesn’t know what to do next, and waves sadly.
A shot of the cinema seats. Crowley has left already.
440INT. JASMINE COTTAGE, BEDROOM – DAY
Newt opens his eyes. He rubs his head. Everything hurts. His shoes have been taken off . . .
At the foot of the bed is Anathema. She holds up his wallet and his witchfinding kit. Opens a card . . .
ANATHEMA
You are Witchfinder Private Newton Pulsifer. Apparently all magistrates are enjoined to give you as much dry kindling as you need to burn any witches, hags or beldames you discover.
NEWT
I’m not actually a real witchfinder. There aren’t really any witches. I’m really . . . I’m a computer engineer. I just needed something to get me out of the house.
ANATHEMA
I’m Anathema Device. I’m really a witch. And here, you should read this. It will save time.
The storm is rising outside the cottage. Rain lashes the windows. Newt is looking at a card. We can see it has a prophecy typed up on it, and then notes in various hands annotating it. (See the book for examples.) Anathema has put all the cards, in a card-box, on the bed.
NEWT
(reading)
‘When Robin’s blue chariot inverted be, three wheels in the skye, a man with bruises be upon thy bed, achinge his head for willow fine . . .’
ANATHEMA
That’s you. Your car crash. And the aspirin. Have you ever heard of Agnes Nutter?
NEWT
I’m afraid not.
ANATHEMA
She was an ancestress of mine. One of your ancestors burned her at the stake. Or tried to.
NEWT
Ancestors?
ANATHEMA
Thou-Shalt-Not-Commit-Adultery Pulsifer. It was a religious family. Ten children, named after the ten commandments. Covetousness Pulsifer, False-Witness Pulsifer . . .
NEWT
If I was called Adultery Pulsifer, I think I’d want to hurt as many people as possible.
ANATHEMA
I think he just didn’t like women. Your family obviously has a tendency to burn mine. I took your matches . . .
NEWT
I’m not going to burn anybody!
ANATHEMA
I know. Agnes would have warned us if you were. She wrote all of these prophecies in a book, published in 1655.
NEWT
She knew I was going to crash my car?
ANATHEMA
Yes. No. Well, yes. My family has been figuring out Agnes’s Nice and Accurate Prophecies for four hundred years now. You could say we’re professional descendants.
NEWT
So how many prophecies are there?
Anathema points to the card box.
ANATHEMA
Several thousand. It averages out at about one prophecy a month – more now, in fact, as we get closer to the end of the world.
NEWT
And when is that meant to be?
Anathema looks over at the clock. Newt catches her glance.
NEWT (CONT’D)
Oh, come on! The world isn’t really going to end today.
ANATHEMA
The end of the world starts here in Tadfield. This afternoon. According to Agnes. I just can’t find it.
NEWT
It?
ANATHEMA
The Antichrist. The Great Beast. I’ve been searching for it. It’s impossible to find.
She hands him a card.
NEWT
Where the Hogge’s back ends the Young beast will take the world and Adams’s line will end in Fire and Darkness . . . Hogge’s back . . . Hang on. Hog’s Back Lane . . . Adam Young?
Anathema looks at him like she’s been hit.
ANATHEMA
What did you say?
NEWT
Adam Young. He lives at 4, Hogback Lane.
ANATHEMA
How did you . . .? I should have . . . I didn’t see that . . .
(to Newt)
Adam. That’s crazy . . . He’s so sweet . . . He and his friends carried you here. He’s the sweetest kid in the village. He’s not the Beast at the end of the world . . .
CUT TO:
441EXT. HOGBACK WOOD – DAY
Adam is leading the kids into Hogback Wood . . . they aren’t entirely in control of where they are going.
ADAM
Come on.
PEPPER
Adam. We all have to go home for lunch.
ADAM
There’s no point to going home.
BRIAN
But, my mum said I had to be there by one.
ADAM
It doesn’t matter. That’s all done now.
WENSLEYDALE
But we don’t actually want to go with you.
ADAM
You do.
We can hear a weird whispering, as if of distant voices . . .
WHISPERY VOICES
. . . make it better . . . start again . . . tear it down and start again . . .
ADAM
You know why you’re all coming with, Wensley? Because there’s nowhere else to go. What’s the point? What’s going to be left when we grow up? Everywhere you look, there’s all this environment going on. Everything’s being killed or used up and no one takes it seriously. Everyone thinks somehow it’ll all get better again. Where’s the sense in that?
BRIAN
Adam. This is all wrong. I’m not going with you.
ADAM
But you are.
Brian realises it’s true. They are all walking with Adam whether they want to or not.
WENSLEYDALE
It isn’t actually funny.
PEPPER
Wensley’s right. It’s a stupid game. You’re being weird.
ADAM
It’s our job to make it . . . start again . . .
WHISPERY VOICES
(undercurrents all though this)
. . . make it better . . . start again . . . tear it down and start again . . . make it . . . better world . . . start again . . . from the beginning. Start again . . . from the beginning . . .
PEPPER
What does that even mean? ‘Start again?’
ADAM
Make it better. Do it right this time. That would be good, wouldn’t it? If we just burned it all up. And started again. Right, Dog?
Dog whines. He shakes his head. He does not want to go back to Hell.
442INT. BENTLEY – LONDON STREETS – DAY
Crowley is driving. Fast. Angry. Radio Four is playing.
ANNOUNCER
. . . another chance to
hear the late Sir Terry Pratchett’s musical selections on Desert Island Discs. And . . .
(slips into Hellvoice without missing a beat)
DAGON
Crowley, the troops are assembled, the Four Beasts are riding. But where are they riding to? Something has gone wrong, Crowley. We trust you have a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this.
CROWLEY
Absolutely. Perfectly reasonable.
And he spies – no, it can’t be – Aziraphale, walking disconsolately back to his bookshop.
Crowley pulls the car around, with a screech of brakes. He gets out of the car, at a rush, slamming the door behind him.
Meanwhile, the radio keeps talking, to nobody. We cut back to it intermittently . . .
DAGON
Your explanation, and the circumstances that will accompany it, will provide a source of entertainment for all the damned of hell, Crowley. Because no matter what agonies the damned are suffering, Crowley, you will have it worse. Crowley? Are you listening? Crowley?
In the street, Crowley grabs Aziraphale. Crowley thinks about something for a moment. Comes to a decision.
CROWLEY
I’m sorry. Apologise. Whatever I said. I didn’t mean it. Work with me, I’m apologising here. Yes. Good. Get in the car.
AZIRAPHALE
What? No!
CROWLEY
Forces of Hell. They’ve figured out that it was my fault. We can run away, together. Alpha Centauri. Spare planets up there. Nobody will notice us.
Aziraphale shakes his head.
AZIRAPHALE
Crowley, you’re being ridiculous. I’m quite sure that if I can just reach the right people, I can get all this sorted out.
CROWLEY
There aren’t any right people. There’s just God. Moving in mysterious ways and NOT TALKING TO ANY OF US.
AZIRAPHALE
Well, yes. That’s why I’m going to have a word with the Almighty, and then the Almighty will fix it.
CROWLEY
That won’t happen.
(beat)
You’re so clever. How can somebody as clever as you be so stupid?
Aziraphale decides not to be offended by this.
AZIRAPHALE
I forgive you!
Crowley jumps back in the car.
Aziraphale shrugs. Sets off again down the pavement when there is a sound of a car hooting. He turns round to see Crowley leaning out the window. Crowley’s shouting.
CROWLEY
I’m going home, angel. I’m getting my stuff. And I’m leaving. And when I’m off in the stars, I, I won’t even think about you!
Aziraphale looks hurt. A PASSER-BY stops to console him.
PASSER-BY
I’ve been there. You’re better off without him.
443EXT. A CARPARK – DAY
There is nothing in the carpark but a GLEAMING RED MOTORBIKE.
A red helmet sits on the seat, and red gloves. One of the gloves is on the ground.
And there are three friends talking — JACKIE and her BOYFRIEND, and their MALE FRIEND. They are happy, and the woman and her boyfriend are very much in love. She’s possibly even showing her engagement ring to the friend.
A figure in scarlet walks over to the bike. It’s WAR, wearing the red hair we saw her in as a war correspondent. She puts on one of the gloves, looks around for the other.
Both the boyfriend and the friend have noticed, and they race towards the fallen glove, trying to be the one who gets it to War.
The friend gets there first; the boyfriend stamps on his hand to grab the glove but . . .
Jackie elbows him hard in the face and sends him flying as she snatches the glove from his hand and tosses it to War.
War catches it, smiles a thank you, and puts it on.
Then War puts on her helmet and drives her bike away, while in the background the three former friends continue to beat each other senseless.
444EXT. CROWLEY’S FLAT – DAY
Crowley pulls up outside the flat.
RADIO VOICE
Crowley. Stay where you are. You will be collected.
He scans the street. No sign of anyone following.
445INT. CROWLEY’S FLAT – DAY
He’s through the door of his flat, checking his watch, talking to himself . . .
CROWLEY
They’ll be here any moment . . .
He picks up a plant mister, and mists a green plant with it.
446INT. CROWLEY’S FLAT, KITCHEN – DAY
He gets a large plastic bucket from under the sink. He’s still got the plant mister. He puts it into his jacket pocket.
447INT. CROWLEY’S OFFICE – DAY
He looks at the framed Mona Lisa sketch hanging on the wall. Reaches up for it.
The Mona Lisa swings open, revealing a safe. Crowley is turning the dial. He looks nervous. The door opens.
He reaches into the safe, takes out two arm-length rubber gloves, and a big rubber apron. Puts them on, hurrying like someone stressed in a caper movie.
Crowley takes out the dusty Thermos flask – it’s the tartan Thermos flask that Aziraphale gave him in Episode Three. Then gets the tongs from the safe.
448EXT. CROWLEY’S FLAT – DAY
Hastur and Ligur ring the doorbell.
449INT. CROWLEY’S OFFICE – DAY
He takes the top of the Thermos off, using the tongs.
It’s a careful procedure. If he sweated, he would sweat now. The doorbell rings.
450INT. CROWLEY’S FLAT – DAY
The last drop of water drips from the Thermos into the bucket.
The sound of the front door being knocked down, downstairs . . .
Crowley winces. Then he carefully opens the office door.
451INT. CROWLEY’S OFFICE – DAY
Crowley is standing on a chair and carefully balancing the bucket on top of the door, which is about eight inches ajar.
We hear a muffled old lady scream from downstairs. Crowley looks sympathetic.
Then Crowley scans the room: a desk with a telephone with answering machine attached. Chair behind it. He takes the plant mister from his pocket. Sprays a green and luxurious plant with it. A drop of water glistens in ECU. Then he puts the mister down on the table.
452INT. CROWLEY’S FLAT
The main door is kicked open. Ligur and Hastur walk in, Ligur in front.
HASTUR
Crawleeeee . . .
LIGUR
We only want a little word with you . . .
HASTUR
We know you’re here somewhere . . .
LIGUR
Crawleeee . . .
453INT. CROWLEY’S FLAT – DAY
Crowley is settling himself behind the desk. He’s removed the apron already. Now he’s pulling off the PVC gloves. He looks nervous.
He moves the plant mister so it’s next to him on the table. Then he puts on a relaxed and casual face.
CROWLEY
In here, people.
454INT. CROWLEY’S FLAT – DAY
And Ligur is in front. He pushes forward into Crowley’s office . . .
455INT. CROWLEY’S OFFICE – DAY
In slow motion, the bucket on the top of the door falls, comically, onto Ligur’s head.
Ligur peels and flares like a lump of burning sodium. Oily brown smoke oozes from him, and he screams. Then he crumples, folds in on himself, and what’s left lies glistening on the burnt and blackened circle of carpet, looking like a handful of mashed slugs.
Crowley is relaxed.
Hastur is standing in the open doorway, looking at the remains of Ligur in horror.
CROWLEY
Hi.
HASTUR
Holy water. I can’t believe even a, a demon would . . . Holy water . . . He hadn’t done nothing to you!
CROWLEY
Yet.
Crowley raises the green plastic plant mister, and sloshes it around threateningly.
CROWLEY (CONT’D)
HASTUR
You don’t frighten me.
In extreme close up. A drip of water on the nozzle slides slowly down the side of the plant mister.
CROWLEY