The Quite Nice and Fairly Accurate Good Omens Script Book

Home > Fantasy > The Quite Nice and Fairly Accurate Good Omens Script Book > Page 24
The Quite Nice and Fairly Accurate Good Omens Script Book Page 24

by Neil Gaiman


  466EXT. JASMINE COTTAGE FROM ABOVE – STORM, DAY

  We see Jasmine Cottage from above. And we are pulling up and away, now looking at Tadfield, now southern England, now the whole of the UK, still centred on Jasmine Cottage and we . . .

  DISSOLVE from the reality of the satellite view to AN ANCIENT AND STAINED AND RATHER TORN AND TAPED-UP MAP, with a pin in it where Jasmine Cottage would be.

  467INT. SHADWELL’S FLAT – DAY

  The pin goes PING! And flies out of the map.

  Shadwell looks puzzled. He leans down, picks up the pin, pushes it into the map once again.

  Outside, the thunderstorm is just beginning to rumble. Madame Tracy comes in, with tea.

  MADAME TRACY

  Made you a cup of tea.

  Shadwell says nothing. Stares at the map and the pin.

  MADAME TRACY (CONT’D)

  I made it just the way you like it. Nine sugars and condensed milk.

  SHADWELL

  Awa’ wi’ ye, ye murrain plashed berrizene.

  Madame Tracy blushes.

  MADAME TRACY

  Oh, Mr Shadwell. You say the nicest things.

  Shadwell realises that he may have done something bad . . .

  SHADWELL

  I sent him into the jaws of doom.

  MADAME TRACY

  Who?

  SHADWELL

  Private Pulsifer. He’s just a lad. I let him go alone. I should have gone with him.

  MADAME TRACY

  He’s just having a nice day out.

  Shadwell shakes his head and points to the pin. It’s glowing red-hot. A wisp of smoke is coming out from the place the pin goes in.

  MADAME TRACY (CONT’D)

  That’s . . . unusual.

  SHADWELL

  I’m a bad man and a worse Witchfinder Sergeant. I canna believe I let him go. I should go to him.

  MADAME TRACY

  There’s the train to Tadfield.

  SHADWELL

  I can’t get there on my bus pass . . . There aren’t the funds for a train ticket . . .

  Madame Tracy reaches into her cleavage and removes a small roll of banknotes. She counts out twenty-five pounds. Shadwell ignores it.

  SHADWELL (CONT’D)

  I will not travel on the wages of harlotry and ghost-raising.

  MADAME TRACY

  You’ll need an extra five pounds for a sandwich and a coffee . . .

  SHADWELL

  (mutters rapidly under his breath to avert temptation)

  There shall not be found among you any one that useth divination, or an enchanter, or a witch. Or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard, or a necromancer. For all that do these things are an abomination unto the LORD.

  Madame Tracy doesn’t know what to say. And then the pin explodes from the map, which begins to burst into flame.

  Shadwell throws his tea at the map, putting out the flame. Madame Tracy puts her money back into her cleavage.

  MADAME TRACY

  If you won’t take it from me, what about one of those nice men who call up?

  SHADWELL

  Mister Crowley won’t pay in advance. I think he’s mafia. But the southern pansy in the bookshop might be a soft touch. Aye. He’s got money . . . Even now young Pulsifer could be suffering unimaginable tortures at the hands of the daughters o’ night. I cannot imagine what he’s going through.

  468INT. JASMINE COTTAGE, BEDROOM – STORM, DAY

  A hurricane is going through the bedroom, cards and everything else flying through the air. And under the bed, Newt and Anathema are making out, passionately and urgently. Newt suddenly pulls back and says:

  NEWT

  But shouldn’t we, have dinner or something first . . .?

  ANATHEMA

  Shhh . . . No time . . .

  And she kisses him again.

  469INT. SHADWELL’S FLAT – DAY

  Shadwell grabs an ancient and unpleasant hat, tips out the cigarette ends and puts it on his head. He nods.

  SHADWELL

  We cannot leave our people in there. They could be doing all manner of things to him, right this moment!

  MADAME TRACY

  I don’t think it’ll be the end of the world if they do, Mr S.

  But he’s slammed the door.

  470INT. JASMINE COTTAGE, BEDROOM – DAY

  Anathema and Newt are making love under the bed, while prophetic filing cards blow around the room. Arms and legs can be seen coming out from under the bed, holding on to the bedlegs. It’s very PG and very passionate.

  471INT. HOGBACK WOOD – STORM, DAY

  Adam is now standing above the others and is talking. Pepper is angry, and Wensleydale and Brian are whimpering. As we pull back, we realise that Adam is standing ON THE AIR, about a foot or two above the others.

  WENSLEYDALE

  We. Please. Adam. We have to go home.

  ADAM

  This is your home! Here! With me. You don’t have to go home or go to school or anything. Or do anything you don’t want to do, ever again.

  Brian looks from Wensleydale to Pepper . . .

  PEPPER

  Adam! Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it!

  Adam gets angry, and a little scared . . .

  ADAM

  Shut up! Stop talking! You all have to stop talking now! Everybody! Stop talking!

  There’s a sparking around their faces. And now they have no mouths . . .

  472EXT. SHADWELL’S FLAT – DAY

  The bad weather has started. Shadwell’s hat blows off. He looks worried. He picks up his hat.

  He gets on a bus . . .

  473EXT. AZIRAPHALE’S BOOKSHOP – DAY

  Rain splashes the outer window. Aziraphale hangs up a CLOSED sign.

  474INT. AZIRAPHALE’S BOOKSHOP, BACK ROOM – DAY

  Aziraphale pulls back a rug. There’s a circle painted on the wood under the rug, a cabalistic circle filled with symbols. He grabs some candelabras, lights the candles, puts them around the circle. Then he stands with his hands together.

  AZIRAPHALE

  Hello. This is the Principality Aziraphale. I’m looking for . . . um. A Higher Authority. Is there anybody there?

  A moment of silence. We hear a knock on the door in the background.

  AZIRAPHALE (CONT’D)

  (calls out)

  We’re closed!

  (to the circle)

  This really is frightfully important. I’m prepared to take this all the way to the top.

  And suddenly the circle flares, and fills with light. And a HUGE FACE appears, filling the room.

  AZIRAPHALE (CONT’D)

  I need to speak to the Almighty.

  METATRON

  Speak, Aziraphale.

  AZIRAPHALE

  Is that . . . am I speaking to . . . God?

  METATRON

  You are speaking to the Metatron, Aziraphale. To speak to me is to speak to God. I am the voice of the Almighty.

  AZIRAPHALE

  Well, yes. But you’re the voice of the Almighty in the same way a presidential spokesman is the voice of the president. I actually need to speak directly to God.

  METATRON

  What is said to me is said to the Almighty.

  Aziraphale does not believe this.

  METATRON (CONT’D)

  Well, Aziraphale?

  AZIRAPHALE

  I want to complain about the conduct of some angels. But the important thing is, the Antichrist. I know who he is, I know where he is.

  METATRON

  (flatly, unimpressed)

  Good work, well done.

  AZIRAPHALE

  So there doesn’t need to be any of that nonsense with a third of the seas turning to blood or anything. There needn’t be a war. We can save everyone.

  METATRON

  The point is not to avoid the war, it is to win it.

  AZIRAPHALE

  Ah. Hmm. What sort of initiating event will precipitate the war?

&
nbsp; METATRON

  We thought a multi-nation nuclear exchange would be a nice start.

  AZIRAPHALE

  (hopelessly)

  Very imaginative.

  And we look through the open door to the back room, all the way through the bookshop, to the front door, and the open letterbox, and close in on a pair of angry eyes. SHADWELL’s.

  And then REVERSE the shot: we see the bookshop, and beyond that, Aziraphale talking to a giant head in a roomful of light . . .

  METATRON

  You also wished to complain about the poor conduct of some angels?

  AZIRAPHALE

  Not really much point, now.

  METATRON

  The battle commences, Aziraphale. Join us.

  AZIRAPHALE

  In a jiffy. Two shakes of a lamb’s tail. Just a couple of things left to tie up.

  METATRON

  We will leave the gateway open for you, then. Do not dawdle.

  AZIRAPHALE

  Jolly . . . jolly good . . .

  The Metatron vanishes. But the etherial light that fills the circle does not completely vanish. There’s a weird, musical humming noise that lingers too.

  AZIRAPHALE (CONT’D)

  Is, um, anyone still there?

  No answer. Aziraphale carefully walks around the circle. He picks up the telephone from the desk, and dials.

  475EXT. AZIRAPHALE’S BOOKSHOP – DAY

  CLOSE UP on Shadwell’s hands, using his skeleton key on the lock.

  476INT. AZIRAPHALE’S BOOKSHOP – DAY

  Aziraphale is on the phone. We hear it ringing.

  We hear the TING of a shopbell, as someone opens the door, very quietly. But Aziraphale doesn’t notice.

  We hear the phone being answered.

  CROWLEY (V.O.)

  Hey.

  AZIRAPHALE

  Hello. I know where the Anti—

  CROWLEY (V.O.)

  This is Anthony Crowley.

  AZIRAPHALE

  I know who you are, you idiot, I telephoned you! Listen . . .

  CROWLEY (V.O.)

  You know what to do. Do it with style.

  (BEEP)

  AZIRAPHALE

  Um. It’s me. Listen . . .

  There’s a click. It might be easier for people to follow the chronology if we CUT BACK TO Crowley and Hastur, in the scene we have seen, as Crowley says . . .

  477INT. CROWLEY’S OFFICE – DAY

  CROWLEY

  Hello? I . . . uh. This isn’t a good time. I’ve got an old friend here.

  AZIRAPHALE

  But . . .

  478INT. AZIRAPHALE’S BOOKSHOP – DAY

  But there is a roar from behind Aziraphale, and he drops the phone.

  Shadwell is advancing.

  SHADWELL

  You foul fiend! In league with the forces of darkness!

  AZIRAPHALE

  No! Sergeant Shadwell . . .?

  SHADWELL

  You monster. Seducing women to do your evil will!

  AZIRAPHALE

  I think perhaps you’ve got the wrong shop.

  SHADWELL

  You are possessed by a DEMON! And I will exorcise you with bell, book and candle!

  AZIRAPHALE

  Yes, fine, but please, keep away from the circle. It’s still powered up . . .

  SHADWELL

  BELL!

  He slams his hand down on the little hotel-style ding-for-service bell. It DINGS.

  AZIRAPHALE

  I’m honestly not a demon. I don’t know what you think you saw, but . . .

  Shadwell picks up the copy of The Nice and Accurate Prophecies and slams it down on the table.

  SHADWELL

  BOOK!

  Shadwell sees the candles burning around the circle. He heads for them, but Aziraphale’s body blocks him . . .

  AZIRAPHALE

  Please! You must keep away from the circle . . .

  Frustrated in his attempt to get the candle, Shadwell pulls an ancient zippo-style cigarette lighter out of his pocket, flicks it alight and thrusts it at Aziraphale . . .

  SHADWELL

  Practically a candle!

  AZIRAPHALE

  Look, the circle is still on, and it would be very unwise for you to step into it without proper precautions, whatever you think you’ve seen just don’t cross the circle, you stupid man . . .

  SHADWELL

  By the powers invested in me as a duly appointed Witchfinder, I charge ye to quit this place and return henceforth to the place from which ye came, and deliver us from evil, returning nae more!

  And Shadwell puts away his lighter and sticks out a pointing finger. Aziraphale is working hard to keep Shadwell from stepping into the circle.

  And then . . . Aziraphale looks like something bad has happened.

  He looks down.

  We see that he is himself STANDING IN THE CIRCLE OF LIGHT. Shadwell is pointing his finger at Aziraphale, like a gun. Aziraphale swears for the first time in 6,000 years.

  AZIRAPHALE

  Oh . . . fuck.

  The humming noise becomes a loud rushing noise, and Aziraphale VANISHES. The light goes out in the circle. There’s nothing left but the flickering candles . . .

  SHADWELL

  Hello? Hello?

  He reaches out his left hand, and lowers his right hand with its pointing finger, as if it’s just shot someone. He never expected such a thing to happen.

  A beat and he panics, and runs, slamming the door HARD behind him.

  The slam of the door makes a burning candle fall over. The burning candle rolls into a pile of Aziraphale’s papers, which begins to burn . . .

  And over that we hear children singing Buddy Holly’s ‘Everyday’, Langley-School-music-project-style, as we . . .

  FADE TO BLACK.

  Episode Five

  The Doomsday Option

  501EXT. SOHO – STORM, DAY – PRESENT DAY

  Storm clouds so dark it might as well be night. The city is alive with the clanging of fire engines and police sirens.

  Crowley is driving towards us, and he’s angry. And he’s scared. But he’s Crowley, so he’s trying as hard as he can to play it cool.

  We hear an engaged telephone tone, and the message THE NUMBER YOU HAVE CALLED IS CURRENTLY BUSY; or something similar.

  502INT. AZIRAPHALE’S BOOKSHOP – DAY

  We see a telephone off the hook, and hear a repeated recorded message on the lines of: ‘If you wish to make a call, please hang up and dial again.’ Smoke is drifting past it.

  503INT. CROWLEY’S BENTLEY/EXT. AZIRAPHALE’S BOOKSHOP – DAY

  Crowley gives up on the phone. He drives past a fire engine, and then sees Aziraphale’s bookshop. Efficient FIREFIGHTERS are unrolling hoses, getting ready to storm the building, from which smoke is pouring.

  Crowley’s car rides up onto the pavement and pulls up with a screech of brakes. He gets out, and is intercepted by a firefighter.

  FIREFIGHTER

  Are you the owner of this establishment?

  CROWLEY

  Do I look like I run a bookshop?

  FIREFIGHTER

  Appearances can be deceptive. I, for example . . . Hey! You can’t go in there!

  Crowley has pushed his way through the firemen, reached the door, and as he reaches it, it OPENS without him touching it, to reveal an inferno inside . . .

  FIREFIGHTER (CONT’D)

  Stop him!

  Crowley walks inside.

  504INT. AZIRAPHALE’S BOOKSHOP – ON FIRE

  Smoke fills the place. One wall is already burning. Crowley is trying, still, to play it cool . . .

  CROWLEY

  Aziraphale! Aziraphale! Where the Heaven are you? You idiot. Aziraphale! For Go— for Sa— for SOMEBODY’S SAKE, where ARE you?

  We hear rumblings as things fall . . .

  Crowley looks around desperately. Behind him a window smashes . . .

  A firehose spurts water through the window, into the inferno,
and straight into Crowley.

  Crowley is knocked backwards, into the flames.

  Out of the fire, he gets to his feet . . . His hair is a mess. His dark glasses have been knocked off, revealing his real eyes, yellow and slitted like a snake’s. His face is filthy. His clothes are burned and ripped, and he is angry and upset.

 

‹ Prev