02x04 - The Hitchhiker

[bunniefuu]

Lesi, could you play something
that's got a bit of swing?

I'm in the mood for something modern,
but not Bebop.

Ah.

Perfect.

Oh, I wish I could stop
and give you a lift, but I'm so late.

I'm sure someone will stop for you.

How odd.

I'm so, so sorry.

I really do have to get to... Oh!

I'm so sorry, can you be an angel
and give me a lift?

My car's broken down
and my phone's dead.

Just to the next town,
there's a garage there.

Oh... yes, well...

I suppose you better climb in, then.

You are the nicest person.

- I'd given up, thank you.
- Yeah.

I knew you couldn't resist
somebody under stress.

What a heap of junk this car is.

You'd think you would've upgraded
sometime in the last years,

but no.

Who are you?

It's Aziraphale, isn't it?

Former Angel of the Eastern Gate.

You have the advantage on me.

I do, yes.

Shax.

Former Admissions demon, senior grade.

Now a Hell's ambassador planner,

potentially to this
corner of the planet.

Replacing the demon Crowley.

Oh.

Crowley's got Gabriel, hasn't he?

I really have no idea
what you're talking about.

It's the only thing that makes sense.

Crowley is hiding the Angel Gabriel.

I think you must have me
confused for someone else.

I'm a little bemused as to why
Crowley should risk destruction for you.

You don't seem his type at all.

I can tell how Crowley's got him.

Crowley doesn't have Gabriel.
Where would he put him?

Gabriel would never go to Crowley,
he hates Crowley.

He hates you.

I don't know where he is,
but he isn't with Crowley.

- No?
- No.

You know what?

Sometime in the last , years,

I remember hearing
that you and Crowley were an item.

I didn't believe it then.

Not really.

Poor old Furfur.

He thought you were
his ticket to the big time.

Now he's on requisitions.

I'm afraid I have no idea
what you are talking about.

Nor where this Angel Gabriel,
who I've never heard of, might be.

You can let me out here.

- This is in the middle of nowhere.
- Sounds about right.

It's okay.

You've already told me where he is.

No! How, how did I tell you
where Gabriel is?

You didn't.

You have now.

If the b*mb does land here,

it would take a real miracle

for my friend and I to survive it.

That was very kind of you.

- Shut up.
- Well...

It was. No paperwork for us to have.

Oh, the books.

Oh.

I forgot all the books.

Oh, they'll all be blown to...

Little demonic miracle of man.

Lift home?

Hello.

Have a miserable eternity.

We'd like to apologize for the wait
and the conditions, but we won't.

Cheer up.
Things could be worse, and they will be.

sh**t number four, all the way down.

Have a miserable eternity.

Next.

...for the rest of eternity,

worse and worse and worse.

Next.

I've had enough of this, I need a cuppa.
You'll have to wait.

Excuse me. Excuse me!

Hello. Have a miserable eternity.

We'd like to apologize for the wait
and the conditions, but we won't.

Cheer up.
Things could be worse and they will be.

Aargh.

Ouch.

Unbelievable.

Having a rough one?

No, no, it's perfect.

I've spent all morning
processing men called Otto.

You know,

if you really want to get out of here,

I believe they are looking to move some
people

from Admissions to Temptations.

Well, it's never come easy to me.
Climbing the greasy pole.

I get all double tongue tied.

The thing is...

I do have the ear of the higher demons.

I could always put in a word for you.

Really?

If you were to hear something
on the Hell burn,

some demon somewhere up to some good,

just let me know.

I could get you
in front of the Dark Council.

You'd do that for me?

Then some day,

and that day may never come,

I could call on you

to do a service for me.

Yeah, yeah I will.

You know...

that was a very nice thing

- you did for me.
- Shut up.

There must be something I can do for you

- in return.
- Forget it, will you?

Right.

Spot of business to do.

Spreading the old demon drink.

Ah.

The theater.

Bravo! Sophocles, Shakespeare.

- Something like that.
- So improving.

Talking of improving.

Time for delivery
of some black market joy.

Lovely bottles of joy.
Thank you for sending proof.

We should not be here.

I'm telling you now,
my planning is always exemplary.

I had the Luftwaffe bombing plans

and everything was going
to the East end of London.

Absolutely.

It has something to do
with that swine Crowley.

What did you just say?

It was Mr. Crowley's meddling
that caused this.

Crowley?

Yes, they did say something about...

demonic interventions
just before the b*mb hit the church.

They? Who is they?

Crowley and his bookseller friend,
Mr. Fell.

Real sissy type, a proper fear girl.

Schtum for a minute.
So this all happened in a church?

And this Crowley was there?

In a church, on hallowed ground?

Tell me...

everything.

Broken? All of them?

Didn't you have air
in your bloody tires?

What's the matter with you,
you great lump?

Right, yeah, I did,

I parked right next to
a place where a b*mb went off, Mrs. H.

Don't you Mrs. H me, you cheeky sod.

I paid you for bottles
and I bloody well want them.

What a day.

You smashed my Whiskey,

the heating is knackered,

and the girls won't go on stage
because it's so bleeding cold.

And to top it all off,

tonight's magician has just been
arrested as a deserter.

I'm f...

Erm, I wonder if I might be able to
help you out on behalf of my...

erm, good friend here.

I am no stranger
to the art of prestidigitation.

Right, here is the deal.

I can grant you temporary license

to go back up to Earth
as zombies for hours.

- As zombies?
- Zombies, yes, the living dead.

Then if you are able
to find me hard proof

that the demon
Crowley and this Mr. Fell,

who from your description
appears to be an Angel,

are not just associating
but actively working together,

I will be authorized to grant you
freedom from Hell and Damnation.

What if this Angel, Mr. Fell,
uses his heavenly powers against us?

No worry about that,
I recently qualified as an authorized

miracle blocker.

I can stop all that very easily, but...

if you don't want to do it, no problem,

the alternative is this.

Oh!

Not him, that's Asterik,
he just brought me the clicker.

Thank you.

- A spider's web?
- Give me a minute, it's fiddly.

Comandant Klupps.

You'd be passed through
this spider's digestive system,

expelled as faecal matter,

reconstituted as a n*zi headed fly

and the whole sorry
business is repeated.

For how long?

Let me check for you.

Eternity. So, if you'd rather take

the initial hours
as a living dead on Earth,

just sign here, otherwise it's straight
through there for spinne time.

So...

what do we do when we find the proof?

Just twist the jewel on this,

that summons me, I'll be right there.

And then what?

Well, I should be the one
to collect the proof

with this state of the art device.

All done.

As newly inculcated
members of the undead,

you will experience
periods of blood lust

which you will have to satisfy.

These cravings can only be quenched
by the consumption

of living human brains,

just to keep you going. Any questions?

Good.

♪ I'll... ♪

♪ Tell you a story ♪

♪ That is sure to please ♪

♪ Of a great farting contest ♪

♪ At Burton-on-Tease ♪

I bet that's worth a packet.

Here, let me try.

- I am so sorry.
- Oh, woops.

All right, I'll say it.

I'm starving.

♪ I'll tell you a story ♪

♪ That is sure to please ♪

♪ Of a great farting... ♪

Well...

At least he has oxygen, eh?

♪ And this year's event ♪

♪ Had drawn quite a large crowd ♪

♪ And the betting was even ♪

♪ On Mrs... ♪

I'll be honest, that wasn't...

unpleasant.

I agree.

Almost...

chickeny.

- Or chopped liver.
- Mm...

Who knew living brains
could be quite so...

♪ But with muscles well-tensed
and legs full apart ♪

♪ She started a final
and glorious fart ♪

♪ Beginning with Chopin,
and ending with Wing ♪

♪ And went right up the scales
to God Save the King ♪

He's repeating on me, sorry.

This way, this way.

He'll be in his bookshop.

Cheers for getting me off the hook.

Oh, there's no need
to thank me, that's what...

friends

are for.

You're aware that you're going to be
performing on the West End Stage

tonight?

♪ The West End, the West End... ♪

It's just that those stages
take some filling.

You're talking to the Angel

who fooled Nefertiti

with a lone caraway seed
on three cowry shells.

Aha! Professor Hoffmann's modern magic.

Ah, there you are.

"To Mr. Fell," that's me,

"a wonderful student."

We must know what they are saying.

Let me look, I'm an expert lip reader.

Hand me those.

Go on, then.

I'm a lonely GI
anxiously awaiting the arrival

of the Ladies of Camelot. Amaze me.

Yeah, erm...

Go on, Mr. British man,

wow me with your miracles.

Can I just say that I do

only allow myself one
tiny weeny miracle?

Just to warm the audience and myself.

Erm...

For instance,

turning a common turnip

into an inkwell.

But before...

that, everything...

I do is accomplished by...

skillful conjuring alone.

Now... I have here

a sixpence

and a farthing.

But...

if I close my hand thusly,

for but a blink of an eye...

Well?

- What is he saying?
- He says...

- Banana.
- Banana.

- Fish.
- Fish.

- Gorilla.
- Gorilla.

- Shoe lace.
- Shoe lace.

A dash of nutmeg.

Banana, fish, gorilla,
shoe lace with a dash of nutmeg.

And...

The farthing...

has vanished.

Right.

What you just did is remarkable,

I don't have the foggiest notion
how it's done.

But that's a trick
for close quarters, eh?

What you do tonight has to be bigger.

I see, yeah, you're right, of course.

We need something new,
something dramatic.

You know if there's somewhere we can...

I don't know, buy tricks.

Well, there is ah...
Will Goldstone's magic shop.

But that's for
professional conjurers only.

You, my Nefertiti fooling fellow,

are about to perform
on the West End Stage.

If that doesn't make you
a professional conjurer,

I don't know what does.

Oh, that's marvelous, sir.

- Are you familiar with it?
- No.

Well, please hand me the contents
and I will gladly show you.

A lot of fun that, a lot of fun.

- And it's only two and six.
- Oh, well, that's...

not the sort of thing we're looking for.

I need a showstopper.

Erm, oh.

Like these beauties.

Oh, yes.

You see, I do have a gift for prop...

Erm.

Well, a sort of natural dexterity.

What about this?

We call this one
the professor's nightmare.

Now, I've got a big piece of rope,

a medium size piece...

Ah, with you in a few moments, sir.

And a wee baby piece.

Now, if I gather up the ends here,

and collect all of the
unequal ends here,

a little tug,

and they all stretch to become
exactly the same length.

You see the big piece is the same length
as the medium size piece

and the short piece is the same length
as the other two.

See, this one here,
this one is the long piece.

You can tell it apart
from the others, right?

Perhaps is the light.
You see, there's the long piece,

there's the medium piece,
and there's the short piece.

Now this is perfect
for a talented amateur such as yourself.

A talented amateur?

Well, I'll have you know
I'm booked to appear in the West End.

Erm, the Windmill theater
at : p.m. tonight.

Thank you very much.

I'm looking for something
with a bit more scale.

Something climactic.

Like that.

A b*llet Catch, lovely.

No, no, no.
I'm afraid that's not for you, sir.

- What about this?
- No, no, I've found my showstopper.

- How much is it?
- You do not understand.

Twelve people have d*ed
presenting this effect.

Years ago,
I sold one to a lovely Chinese fella

and he ended up six foot under.

I'd hate to see
the same thing happen to you.

- How much?
- Are you sure?

- Are you sure you are sure?
- Quite sure. How much?

Two pound ten.

And another four pound shillings
for the r*fle.

But you'll need a firearms license.

Oh, I have one of those already.

- You what?
- Oh, yes, I keep a Derringer

in the bookshop,
inside a hollowed out book.

In case I get into a scrape.

You read too many books.

And seven pounds, and...

five shillings.

Your life is worth a lot more
than seven pounds five shillings.

Well, is a life worth more than...

pounds and five shillings?

On your head be it.

I mean, I have warned you.

It'll take a miracle for you to be
able to perform this safely tonight.

That's why you just sell us the trick.

Leave the miracles to us.

You don't understand, look.

Where are we?

Here, you need nerves of steel.

And a hand as steady
as the rock of Gibraltar.

Well, I have those.

Sir, go and take a look
at the pocket tricks over there, go on.

I'll be with you in a minute.

You're going to need
a % reliable marksman.

Someone you can really trust.

Otherwise, it's lethal.

Oh,
I've got the perfect man for the job.

At least,

I think I have...
excuse me, for one minute.

You'll do the sh**ting,
I'll catch the b*llet.

I'll do all the hard bits.

As a demon, you must have
fired off a lot of g*ns, yeah?

- I'll do it.
- Yay.

But if anything goes wrong,
can we agree that we break your...

one miracle limit?

Neither of us wants the paperwork,
do we?

Excuse me, sir. Fake ears
are two shillings, thank you very much.

It's not fake.

It's my own.

I didn't mean it, sir.

I mean,

take everything you want.

It's my treat.

Sir?

Sir?

Please. Sir!

And now, a master of misdirection,

marvelous in his mysteriosity,

with miracles at his fingertips.

Let us welcome
the death defying prestidigitation

of the amazing Mr. Fell.

You're on. Get on with it.

Those were the Ladies of Camelot,

they're the bees knees.

I bet you're all thinking,

"What's that man doing up there,

on the stage?

Is he here to amaze and befuddle us all

with his prestidigitation

and jiggery-pokery?"

- Get on with it!
- Oh.

Erm...

Well, the answer is, yes, I am.

Erm...

To amaze you,

first, I shall require

the assistance of a gentleman

from the audience. Now,

is anyone here
familiar with using firearms?

Oh.

Erm...

Erm... you, sir!

You look like
you might have a steady hand.

- Yep.
- Ah.

Erm, yep, we'll escort you up
onto the stage.

Erm...

Before we... thank you.

Before we begin,

we just need a little something

to check

that the magic

is working

today.

Miracles blocked.

What have we here?

A common or garden turnip.

But in a blink,

and before your very eyes,

I transform it

into an inkwell.

What on earth is he playing at?

- I thought you said he was a magician.
- He is.

I say again.

From turnip

to inkwell.

Oh, well.

Sometimes...

you meet a...

stubborn turnip.

So...

best get on to the main event.

Tonight...

I will take my life in my hands,

as I dare to perform...

the b*llet catch!

A round of applause for

this total stranger.

Yeah.

- My miracles aren't working.
- Neither are mine.

Now, would you be so good

as to...

take this r*fle...

Ah!

The gentlemen of the press
are intrigued already, I see.

- Now, sir...
- Got you.

...I would ask that you take this b*llet

and load it into the r*fle.

Very carefully.

It's perfectly simple. Aim for my mouth,

but sh**t past my ear.

I just squeeze that there, do I not?

Haven't you fired a g*n before?

Not as such.

If you would...

load the b*llet into the g*n.

That's right.

b*llet loaded!

Yes, thank you.

Ladies and gentleman,

my volunteer

here, will on...

on my signal,

fire the r*fle at my head,

and in that expl*sive moment,

I will attempt to catch that b*llet

in my teeth!

Are you ready, sir?

When you hear my signal, sir,

sh**t.

Ready?

Of course, we are hooked.

Aim.

If that g*n goes off in his face,
now it'll be a right old mess.

Never mind the paperwork,
they probably won't be able

to put him back together again.

Get on with it, for God's sake.

Fire!

What the f...

Thank you!

No paperwork.

Oh, thank you.

Thank you!

Oh, thank you!

Get on, girls, for God's sake.

But do you really think it went well?

Absolutely.

Chalk up a win for
the side of the Angels.

Ah!

Enter.

Hmm, well, well, well...

What have we here?

Sorry, have we met?

Oh, no,
you never had the pleasure, but...

we have, haven't we?

Have we?

What do you mean "have we?"
You know we have.

We were in the same legion.

Just before the fall.

Doing dubious battle
on the plains of Heaven.

Remember?

I remember going into battle,
I don't remember being there with you.

Sorry.

I was right next to you.

We did loads together.

You said jump on me back
like a monkey in a waist coat.

Anyway, whether you do
or whether you don't, it doesn't matter.

I'm here to inform you,

as a representative
of the high powers of Hell,

that you, Crowley,

are in breach of the infernal code.

Consulting and collaborating
with an Angel,

Fell the Marvelous, aka...

Azirapalala.

Azirapapap.

Aziphapalala.

Aziraphale.

Pure coincidence. I happen to be here,

he asked for a volunteer.

The miraculous b*llet Catch

requires the use
of a trusted stooge and confidant.

Where did you get that booklet?

It's only available
to working professional magicians,

such as myself.

Be it be.

Got it from the man in the magic shop
just after you left.

It was... his last wish
that we should have it.

But you're dead.

Living dead.

Now,

agents of Hell.

Don't bother trying any funny business,

I think you'll find someone
who has great authority

has put a half hour miracle block
on this entire theater.

- Who?
- Me! Who do you think?

Come on, come on.

Erm...

All right, Crowley.

- Shall we?
- Oh, we shan't, this is ridiculous.

No, what's ridiculous is demons like you
doing what they please.

And somehow still getting on,
while demons like me graft

for hundreds and hundreds of millennia

and never get a sniff of a promotion.

Well, not this time.

Expect a legion to come for you
first thing tomorrow.

Enjoy your last night on Earth.

But first, what about our deal?

- Freedom from Damnation.
- Absolutely.

You're free to go. Ta-da.

But you can't leave us like this.

You need to make us into living humans.

Oh, no... clause .

Un-revocable eternal life on Earth

as zombies.

Granted.

Might be all right.

Thank you for seeing me,
your maleficences.

I took this photograph of
Crowley and Aziraphale together.

So you have your audience
for the dark council then?

There are vacancies in...

Temptations?

Indeed there are.

But I'm afraid it looks like
you'll be staying right here.

Eh?

Oh, hang on, that's not...

But...

How?

There was a miracle blocker in the room,

I saw you put it back in the envelope.

Who needs a miracle when
you've had private lessons

from the great Prof. Hoffmann himself.

I simply say the magic words.

Banana, fish, gorilla, shoe lace,

with a dash of nutmeg, and...

Well, I got it right
the time that mattered.

You really are...

terrible at magic.

Shall we retire the act?

Perhaps.

- Might be for the best.
- Hmm.

I...

I knew you would come through for me.

You always do.

Well, you said "trust me."

And you did.

You could've walked away.

If you were truly

as evil as you like to paint yourself,
you would've done that.

Nah.

That's the trouble with you lot.

You don't just see things
in black and white.

Sometimes,

you've just gotta blur the edges.

Well, maybe there is something
to be said for.

Shades of grey.

Well, shades of...

dark grey.

Shades of a very light grey,

I'd rather fancy.

State your business.

Oh, for Satan's sake, you know who I am.

I have an appointment
with Lord Beelzebub.

State your business.

I am Shax, demon of the fifth house,

earthly representative
of plenipotentiary

of the vastness of Hell.

Here to see Lord Beelzebub.

Well,

you're not on the list.

What's up, babe?

Let me in to see Lord Beelzebub

or I will rearrange your vital organs
and hang them on the wall.

In a frame.

Ah, fair enough.

Shax, demon of the fifth house.

Well?

What news?

- The Angel went to Edinburgh.
- Which Angel?

You know which one.

Crowley's pet.

- Why Edinburgh?
- Not sure.

Maybe they want us to think
Gabriel is in Edinburgh.

Maybe Crowley wants the Angel to
make us think Gabriel is in Edinburgh.

- Maybe...
- Maybe he actually is in Edinburgh.

- Oh, he's not in Edinburgh.
- Why not?

Because he's in the bookshop.

Gabriel's in the bookshop?

You're certain of it?

Yes.

Thank you, Shax.

Good work.

Yes?

Now that we've located Gabriel,

what do we do?

- Well, we formulate a plan.
- I formulated a plan.

I take a legion of demons
and we storm the bookshop,

k*lling anyone and anything
that stands in our way.

We capture Gabriel
and we drag him as tribute

before the throne of Satan, our master.

Can you enter the bookshop,

without permission?

Not technically, no.

But give me a legion
of Hell's finest troops

and see what I can do.

It's a chance I've been waiting for,
Lord Beelzebub.

To be clear,

you are hereby authorizing me

to storm the Angel's bookshop,

sending wave after wave of demons

to besiege it until it falls
and capture the Archangel,

destroying anything and everything
that stands in our way?

No.

I am not authorizing you to do that.

Oh.

I am commanding you to do it.

I want you there, Shax.

On the ground.

Bravely leading the att*ck
into the bookshop,

leading the army of the damned.

I can do that.

Oh.

Oi, you need to put your brakes on.

Now go back to where I parked you.

There you are!

I was worried something
might've happened to you.

Erm, no, nothing happened to me.

Very uneventful journey indeed,
no strange things at all.

Good, that's what we want to hear.

Erm, everything okay with...?

Oh, yeah, fine.

He's singing to himself.

I think he must've been asleep,

I heard snoring coming from his bedroom.

Did you miss me?

I bet you did.

- I'm sure it did.
- So...

Any more clues from the mystery
of the missing Archangel?

Not exactly.

Or, if there are,
I haven't yet cracked the case.

But I'm certainly hot
on the trail of something.

I'm sure you are.

Oh, by the way,

the whole sudden rain and awning thing
was a complete washout.

Sorry?

You know, project

making Nina fall in love with Maggie.

I failed, it's your go.

Oh, I see.

Well, then.

Whickber Street Traders
and Shopkeepers Association

monthly meeting, here we come.

You're really hosting the meeting?

Absolutely.

And I can guarantee you

it will be a night

to remember.