by Neil Gaiman
CROWLEY (CONT’D)
I said it’s meant to be . . .?
He looks around. Aziraphale is nowhere to be seen.
Nearby: the PARK KEEPERS, whom we now recognise as angels, are bundling Aziraphale, with his mouth taped up, and hands zip-tied behind him, into their deckchair truck.
URIEL
Renegade angels all tied up with strings.
SANDALPHON
These are a few of our favourite things.
Crowley sees this, and starts to run after them . . .
CROWLEY
Hey! Stop! Stop them!
A large mum TOURIST says:
LADY TOURIST
What’s wrong, love?
CROWLEY
My friend! They’re kidnapping my friend!
LADY TOURIST
Bad luck, dear.
And she swings back and brings down a crowbar on the back of Crowley’s head. It would have killed a human . . .
He sways . . .
CROWLEY
Not a problem. Everything’s tickety-boo.
Crowley’s POV: everything gets swimmy, and then he falls. Crowley falls to his knees.
Crowley’s POV: the lady tourist is now transformed into Hastur in a wig. Her husband is Dagon; their children are monstrous tiny adults, Don’t Look Now-style.
The van with Aziraphale in it drives away, and Crowley tries to crawl after it.
And then he collapses.
And the screen goes black.
631INT. HEAVEN – DAY
We are high up in a really nice office block with a fantastic view of the world. Beautiful decor.
GABRIEL
Ah. Aziraphale. So glad you could join us.
AZIRAPHALE
You could have just sent a message. I mean, a kidnapping, in broad daylight . . .
GABRIEL
Call it what it was. An extraordinary rendition. So. With one act of treason, you averted the war.
As we’ve pulled back, we can see that Aziraphale is tied to a chair.
AZIRAPHALE
Well, I think the greater good demanded . . .
GABRIEL
Don’t talk to me about the greater good, sunshine. I’m the Archangel Fucking Gabriel. The greater good was we were finally going to settle things with the opposition once and for all.
(to angels)
Any word from our new associate?
There are other angels standing around.
URIEL
He’s on his way.
GABRIEL
You’re going to like this, Aziraphale. Bet you didn’t see this one coming.
632INT. HELL
Crowley is in chains, and standing, lonely, in the centre of the box.
HASTUR
. . . and the murderer of a fellow demon, a crime I saw with my own eyes!
CROWLEY
Is there anything I can say in my defence?
HASTUR
That’s a very good question, Crowley.
DAGON
Objection. It’s a stupid question. There’s nothing you can do or say, traitor. You’ve done it all.
BEELZEBUB
Objection suzzstained. Creatures of Hell, you have heard the evidence against the demon known as Crowley. What is your verdict?
Through the glass, we see hundreds of DEMONS, naked flesh and slug-flesh, tentacles and faces, a nightmare world, watching the proceedings. And the mouths open, and we hear a chant of . . .
DEMONS
Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!
Beelzebub smiles at Crowley.
BEELZEBUB
Do you have anything to szzay before we take our vengeance on you?
Crowley shrugs.
CROWLEY
What’s it going to be then? An eternity in the deepest pit?
Hastur, Beelzebub and Dagon smile and shake their heads in unison.
HASTUR
We’re going to do something even worse. We’re deleting you, as painfully as we can. Letting the punishment fit the crime.
The little usher creature shouts:
USHER
Send for the Method of Execution!
We hear the DING! of a lift door.
Lift doors open at the back of the hall. And the angel Michael steps out. The angel is wearing white robes, and holding a glass jug, filled with water.
CROWLEY
The archangel Michael? That’s . . . unlikely.
DAGON
It’s diplomacy. You ought to approve of that. Cooperation with our old enemies.
HASTUR
Oy. Wank-wings. You brought the stuff?
Dagon, Beelzebub and Hastur seem very nervous. So does the little usher.
ARCHANGEL MICHAEL
I did. I’ll be back to collect it . . .
HASTUR
You, um . . . Ought to do the honours. I’ve seen what that stuff can do.
Michael pours the jug of water into the bath. It’s apparently inexhaustible: the water flowing from the small glass jug fills the bath.
CROWLEY
That’s holy water.
ARCHANGEL MICHAEL
The holiest, yes.
BEELZEBUB
It’sz not that we don’t truszt you, Michael, but obviously we don’t truszt you. Hazstur, test it.
Hastur leans over and grabs the little demonic Usher, who flails, terrified.
USHER
What? What did I do?
HASTUR
Wrong place. Wrong time.
Hastur tosses the usher into the bathtub.
It’s as if a lump of sodium has been dropped into water. It flares and sputters, and the usher SCREAMS before vanishing.
BEELZEBUB
Demon Crowley, I sentence you to extinction by holy water. Have you anything to say?
CROWLEY
Well, yes. This is a new suit, and I’d hate to ruin it. Would you mind if I took it off?
HASTUR
Keep making jokes, funny man.
But Crowley has removed his jacket, and is undoing his tie . . .
633EXT. SHADWELL’S FLAT – DAY
The motor scooter is parked and chained up outside the house.
634INT. SHADWELL’S FLAT – DAY
Shadwell is sitting in his grimy bedsit, reading a book. It’s an ancient demonological text, although someone has drawn glasses and moustaches on all the demons. He looks like a man with a lot on his mind. There is a knock on the door.
SHADWELL
(warily)
Just leave the plate outside the door.
The door opens. It’s Madame Tracy. She looks . . . well, she looks normal. Not like a medium. Not like a sex worker. Not like an eccentric. Just rather off-puttingly normal.
MADAME TRACY
Hello, Mr S.
SHADWELL
Aye, Jezebel?
MADAME TRACY
I was just thinking, after all we’ve been through in the last two days, seems silly for me to leave a plate by the door, so I’ve laid a place for you at the table.
SHADWELL
In your den of iniquity?
MADAME TRACY
That’s right, dear.
635INT. JASMINE COTTAGE – DAY
There’s a ring at the doorbell. Newt opens it, to see GILES BADDICOMBE standing on the doorstep: a middle-aged solicitor. Baddicombe gives a smile. He’s holding a cardboard box, and has a notebook in his hand.
BADDICOMBE
Hello. Mister
(checks notebook)
Pulzifer?
He hands Newt his card.
NEWT
Pulsifer. Yes.
He looks down. The card says
Giles Baddicombe
Robey, Robey, Redfearn and Bychance
Solicitors
13 Demdyke Chambers, PRESTON.
BADDICOMBE
I have the peculiar honour of bringing you and Mrs Pulsifer a small bequest.
NEWT
There isn’t any Mrs Pulsifer. I mean, there’s m
y mum, but she’s in Dorking.
BADDICOMBE
How odd. The letter is quite specific. Can I come in?
He walks in, puts the package down.
NEWT
Coffee?
BADDICOMBE
I mustn’t. To be honest, we’re all very interested in this. Mr Bychance nearly came down himself, but he doesn’t travel well these days.
NEWT
I have no idea what you’re talking about.
BADDICOMBE
The bequest. It’s what’s in the box. With the letter. My firm has had it for over 300 years. I don’t know the full details because I joined the firm only fifteen years ago, but . . .
636EXT. AGNES NUTTER’S TIME – DAY – 1650s
FLASHBACK. Virtue Device knocks on a door. A very young lawyer, ROBEY, opens the door.
VIRTUE
Master Robey? This is for you, from my mother. And this, with it, for safekeeping.
She hands him a package tied with twine, and a sealed note.
637INT. ROBEY’S ROOMS – DAY – 1650s
Robey opens the sealed note, breaking the seal. A gold coin falls out. He opens the package and inside it is a brand new metal box.
He looks at the box and then he smiles . . . He reads the note hungrily.
GOD (V.O.)
The letter contained a gold coin, certain instructions and five interesting facts about the next ten years which would ensure that he was able to pursue a very successful legal career. All he had to do in return was see that the box was carefully looked after for rather more than three hundred years, and then be delivered . . . here on this particular Sunday morning.
638INT. JASMINE COTTAGE – DAY – PRESENT DAY
Baddicombe shrugs.
BADDICOMBE
We’ve been looking after it for three hundred years. And, um . . . Well, here it is.
Anathema has come downstairs. Newt has finished opening the box that the thing was in. It’s an ancient metal box.
ANATHEMA
It’s from Agnes.
NEWT
Are you sure?
ANATHEMA
I recognise the style. Hello. I’m Anathema. Well . . . Let’s see what’s inside.
BADDICOMBE
We’ve had bets in the office . . .
ANATHEMA
Would you like to open it?
BADDICOMBE
I say. That would be something to tell my grandchildren.
He opens the box.
BADDICOMBE (CONT’D)
That’s odd.
He takes out an envelope, addressed to GYLES BADDICUMBE. He opens the envelope. An ancient coin falls onto the table. He reads a note.
BADDICOMBE (CONT’D)
Excuse me. I, um . . .
White-faced, he takes the coin and runs out of the door.
A glance out of the window shows him driving away. Newt picks up the letter from the table, and reads . . .
NEWT
Here is A Florin, lawyer; nowe, runne faste, lest thee Worlde knoe the Truth about yowe and Mistre∫s Spiddon of the councille’s Towne planning department.
Anathema reaches into the box. There is a yellowing 350-year-old manuscript. And she reads the front page, in a handwriting we recognise.
ANATHEMA
Further Ni∫e and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Concerning the Worlde that Is To Com. Ye Saga Continue∫!
She looks at Newt and bites her lip. He looks at her.
639INT. MADAME TRACY’S FLAT – DAY
At the table where the seance was held. There are flowers on the table and a tablecloth, and Mr Shadwell and Madame Tracy are sitting concluding their dinner. Nothing has been said for a while, but the dinner was good. Shadwell dabs his lips with a serviette.
MADAME TRACY
I know it’s wicked, but . . .
She produces a bottle of Guinness, and pours it for Shadwell, who is impressed.
She sips her tea as he slurps his stout.
MADAME TRACY (CONT’D)
You know. I’ve got a tidy amount put away. Sometimes I think it might be nice to move out of London. Get a little bungalow. And they say that two can live as cheaply as one . . . and it would be nice to have a man around . . .
Shadwell suddenly realises what he’s being asked.
SHADWELL
I . . . I don’t think Private Pulsifer is ever coming back. I’m the only witchfinder left.
MADAME TRACY
Well, you found me, love. I’m not much of a witch, but I’ll have to do. Now what?
SHADWELL
Now . . . I pop the question . . .?
MADAME TRACY
Well, go on, then.
Madame Tracy nods.
SHADWELL
Aye. How many nipples ha’ ye got, Jezebel?
MADAME TRACY
Retired Jezebel, Mr S. Just the two.
SHADWELL
Well, then. That’s all right.
640INT. HEAVEN – DAY
Aziraphale is tied to a chair. The angels in nice suits are arranging a circle of stones on the nice floor in front of them. It’s a circle just big enough for someone to stand in.
AZIRAPHALE
So we’re waiting for somebody?
No answer. They ignore him.
AZIRAPHALE (CONT’D)
Nice stones. What are they for?
URIEL
Barbecue.
AZIRAPHALE
What fun. I love a barbecue.
In answer we hear the DING of a lift (elevator) door.
And here is the DISPOSABLE DEMON. He’s looking around as if this is not somewhere he would ever choose to be. He’s holding a metal pan, with a cover on it.
DISPOSABLE DEMON
Nice view. You don’t get this view down in the basement.
SANDALPHON
You got the thing?
DISPOSABLE DEMON
Oh yes. Tit for tat deal. This is a first.
He takes the top off the metal pan, with a flourish. Flames are burning in the pan – weird-coloured flames, burning hard.
Look at Gabriel and the other angels – some of them step back, or avert their glance. This is scary.
Only Aziraphale seems unfazed.
Demon puts the pan of fire on the stones. It flares up.
DISPOSABLE DEMON (CONT’D)
Can I . . . Can I ask a favour . . . can I hit him? I’ve always wanted to hit an angel.
SANDALPHON
Go for it.
Demon heads over to Aziraphale. Who looks up at him, unafraid.
And demon has second thoughts.
DISPOSABLE DEMON
I . . . should be getting back. I’ll come and pick up the Hellfire in, what, an hour?
URIEL
Barbecue will be over and done by then.
The pillar of Hellfire is burning, and the angels are no more comfortable with it than the demons are with the holy water. It’s terrifying for them.
Two of the angels, Uriel and Sandalphon, pull their flaming swords.
(NB: the burning swords are burning with a very different kind and colour of flame to the Hellfire. And they do not have to burn.)
Uriel walks over to Aziraphale with his sword out. We think he’s going to stab Aziraphale, but no . . .
Uriel cuts the rope that ties Aziraphale to the chair.
URIEL
Up.
Aziraphale gets up. Brushes himself down. Adjusts his bowtie.
AZIRAPHALE
I don’t suppose I could persuade you to reconsider . . .?
The angels in the room are impassive.
AZIRAPHALE (CONT’D)
We’re meant to be the good guys, for Heaven’s sake.
GABRIEL
And for Heaven’s sake, we make an example of a traitor. Into the flame.
And Aziraphale walks forward. Reluctantly. This is so hard.
He takes a deep breath. He’s almost at the flame . . .
AZIRAPHALE
&
nbsp; Right. Well, lovely knowing you all. May we meet on a better occasion.
GABRIEL
We won’t. It’s Hellfire. It will destroy you absolutely and utterly and for ever. Now shut your stupid mouth and die.