Original subtitles

Voice of god: Current theories on the creation of the universe

state that if it were created at all

Ana' didn't just start as it were, unofficially,

it came into being about 74 billion years ago.

The earth is generally supposed to be about four-and-a-half billion years old.

These dates are incorrect.

Some medieval scholars put the date of the creation at 3760 bc.

Others put creation as far back as 5508 bc.

Also incorrect.

Archbishop James ussher claimed that the heaven and the earth

At 9am.

This too was incorrect...

B y almost a quarter of an hour.

[T was created at 9.73 in the morning, which was correct.

The whole business with the fossilised dinosaur skeletons

was a joke the palaeontologists haven't seen yet.

This proves two things.

Firstly, that god does not play dice with the universe.

.I' play an ineffable game of my own devising.

For everyone else, it's like playing poker in a pitch-dark room,

for infinite stakes, with a dealer who won't tell you the rules,

and who smiles all the time.

Secondly, the earth is a libra.

The entry for libra in the tadfield advertiser

on the night our history begins reads as follows.

"You may be feeling run-down and always in the same daily round.

"A friend is important to you.

"You may be vulnerable to a stomach upset today, so avoid salads.

"Help could come from an unexpected quarter."

This was perfectly correct on every count

except for the bit about the salads.

To understand the true significance of what that means,

we need to begin earlier.

A little more than 6,000 years earlier, to be precise,

just after the beginning.

It starts, as it will end, with a garden -

in this case, the garden of Eden -

and with an apple.

Go on. It's an apple!

Voice of god: [T was a nice day.

All the days had been nice.

There had been rather more than seven of them so far,

and rain hadn't been invented yet.

But the storm clouds gathering east of Eden

suggested that the first thunderstorm was on its way,

and it was going to be a big one.

Well, that went down like a lead balloon.

Yeah...

Sorry, what was that?

I said, well, that went down like a lead balloon.

Yes. Yes, it did, rather.

Bit of an overreaction, if you ask me.

First offence and everything.

I can't see what's so bad

about knowing the difference between good and evil, anyway.

Well, it must be bad...

- Crawley. - Crawley...

Otherwise you wouldn't have tempted them into it.

They just said, "get up there and make some trouble."

Well, obviously - you're a demon.

It's what you do.

Not very subtle of the almighty, though.

Fruit tree in the middle of a garden with a "don't touch" sign.

Why not put it on the top of a high mountain?

Or on the moon?

Makes you wonder what god's really planning.

Best not to speculate.

It's all part of the great plan.

It's not forus to understand.

It's ineffable.

The great plan's ineffable?

Exactly.

It is beyond understanding and incapable of being put into words.

Didn't you have a flaming sword?

You did. It was flaming like anything. What happened to it?

Lost it already, have you?

I gave it away.

- You what? - I gave it away!

There are vicious animals. It's going to be cold out there,

and she's expecting already,

and [said ”here you go, flaming sword, don't thank me,

"and don't let the sun go down on you here."

I do hope I didn't do the wrong thing.

Oh, you're an angel.

I don't think you can do the wrong thing.

Oh... oh, thank... oh, thank you.

It's been bothering me.

Crowley: I've been worrying too.

What if I did the right thing, with the whole eat-the-apple business?

A demon can get into a lot of trouble for doing the right thing.

Be funny if we both got it wrong, eh?

If I did the good thing and you did the bad one.

It wouldn't be funny at all.

Well...

Voice of god: Good 0mens. Being a narrative of certain events

occurring in the last eleven years of human history,

in strict accordance, as shall be shown,

with the nice and accurate prophecies of Agnes nutter, witch.

.I't wasn't a dark and stormy night but don't let the weather fool you.

Just because it's a mild night

doesn't mean that the forces of evil aren't abroad

they are.

They are everywhere.

Voice of god: Two demons lurk at the edge of the graveyard.

They are pacing themselves,

and can lurk for the rest of the night if necessary,

with still enough sullen menace left for a final burst of lurking around dawn.

Bugger this for a lark.

He should have been waiting for us.

Do you trust him?

- Nope. - Good.

It'd be a funny old world if demons went round trusting each other.

What's he calling himself up here these days?

Crowley.

Here he comes now, the flash bastard.

♪ For me, for me, for me... ♪

If you ask me, he's been up here too long.

Gone native.

Enjoying himself too much.

Wearing sunglasses even when he doesn't need them.

- Hastur: All hail Satan. - Ligur: All hail Satan.

Hi, guys. Yeah, sorry I'm late,

but you know how it is on the a40 at denham.

- I tried to cut up towards... - Now that we art all here,

let us recount the deeds of the day.

Course. Deeds. Yeah.

I have tempted a priest.

As he walked down the street he saw all the pretty girls in the sun.

I put doubt into his mind.

He would have been a Saint. Now within a decade, we shall have him.

Nice one.

Ligur: I have corrupted a politician.

Let him think that a tiny bribe wouldn't hurt.

Within a year, we shall have him.

Right, you'll like this.

I brought down every London area mobile phone network tonight.

- Yeah? - Yeah. Wasn't easy.

And what exactly has that done to secure souls for our master?

Oh, come on. Think about it.

15 million pissed-off people who take it out on each other?

It's not exactly, hmm... craftsmanship.

Well, head office don't seem to mind.

They love me down there. Guys, times are changing.

So... What's up?

This is.

Yes.

Already?

Yes.

And it's up to me to...?

Both: Yes.

You know, this sort of... It... it really isn't my scene.

Your scene.

Your starring role.

Take it.

Like you said... times are changing.

- They're coming to an end, for a start. - Why me?

Cos they love you down there.

And what an opportunity. Ligur here would give his right arm to be you tonight.

Well, someone's right arm, anyway.

Hastur: Sign here.

Now what?

You will receive your instructions.

Why so glum?

The moment we've been working for all these centuries is at hand.

Centuries...

Our moment of eternal triumph awaits.

Triumph...

And you will be a tool of that glorious destiny.

Glorious... tool. Yeah.

I'll, um, be off, then.

Get it over with. Not that I want to get it over with. Obviously.

But I'll be popping along.

Great. Fine.

Yeah.

Ciao!

Ligur: What's that mean?

Ciao?

It's Italian.

It means food.

Voice of god: Crowley was all in favour of armageddon in general terms,

but it was one thing to work to bring it about

and quite another for it to actually happen.

- Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit! - Radio: When oueen released...

- Why me? - Bohemian rhapsody on Halloween 7975,

it was because... you earned it crowley. Didn't you?

What you did to the m25 was a stroke of demonic genius, darling.

The m25. Yeah. Well, yeah. I'm glad it went down so well.

Here are your instructions.

This is the big one, crowley.

♪ .I' see a little silhouetto of a man

♪ 5caramouche, scaramouche will you do the fandango?

♪ Thunderbolt and lightning... ♪

♪ Very, very frightening me

♪ Galileo, Galileo, Galileo... ♪

Mmm.

- Mind ifljoin you? - Gabriel.

What an unexpected pleasure.

- It's been... - Quite a while, yes.

Why do you consume that?

You're an angel.

It's Sushi!

It's nice.

You dip it in soy sauce and...

It's what humans do, and if I am going to be living here among them...

Well, keeping up appearances. Tea?

I do not Sully the temple of my celestial body with... gross matter.

Obviously not.

- Nice suit. - Yes. I like the clothes.

Pity they won't be around much longer.

They won't?

We have reliable information that things... are afoot.

They are?

Yes. My informants suggest that the demon crowley may be involved.

You need to keep him under observation -

without, of course, letting him know that's what you're doing.

I do know. Yes, I've been on earth doing this

- since the beginning. - 50 has crowley.

It's a miracle he hasn't spotted you yet.

Yes, I know!

Miracles are what we do!

Voice of god: Meet Deirdre and Arthur young.

They live in the oxfordshire village of tadfield

are we there yet? Arthur? Four minutes apart.

It's definitely this way. It's just the roads look all different in the dark.

The nuns said to come in when they were four to five minutes apart.

It's just a bit, well...

Ooh, do we have any egg and cress sandwiches?

Voice of god: Meet Harriet dowling

and her husband, American diplomat Thaddeus dowling.

Breathe, honey. Just breathe.

I am breathing, goddammit, tad. Why aren't you here?

Honey, I'm with you. I'm with you.

.I' 'm just also here with the president.

Hey, Harriet. Sorry we had to borrow your husband

Birth is the single most joyous co-experience

that two human beings can share,

- and I'm not gonna miss a second of it - tad!

[F we can get back to the matter in hand?

I'll get back to you, honey.

You're meant to be with me, you useless son-of—a-b...

At some point this evening,

mrs dowling will arrive.

She will undoubtedly have secret service agents with her.

You are all to ensure that they see nothing untoward.

Sister Theresa and I will deliver the dowlings' child in room four.

Once he has been born, we will remove the baby boy from the mother,

and give her back our master's child.

Everything is ready.

Tonight... it begins.

- Sister Mary loquacious. - Yes, excuse me, mother superior,

I was wondering where the other baby was going to come from.

Not the American baby, I mean, that's obvious,

that's just the birds and the bees, but, you know, the, uh...

Master crowley is on his way with our dark-lord-to-be, sister Mary.

We do not need to know more than that.

We are satanic nuns of the chattering order of st beryl,

and tonight is what our order was created for.

Sister grace, you are on duty reception.

Sisters Maria verbose and Katherine prolix, you will assist sister Theresa.

The rest of you know your duties.

Oh, it's them.

Places!

Excuse me, mother superior.

I didn't get a job. Probably an oversight.

Yes, of course.

You could make sure there are biscuits.

The kind with pink icing. I think we had a tin in the convent larder.

- Breathe. Breathe, Deirdre. Breathe. - I am breathing!

Excuse me. Deirdre young.

Contractions are now four... Fourminutes apart.

- Welcome to st beryl's... - Mrs young.

We weren't expecting you till next week.

Now, Arthur will be with me while I'm in labour.

I'm afraid not. We believe that fathers just...

Complicate the process for everybody. We'll let him know when to come up.

I'm not going to argue with nuns.

Nurses know what they're doing, Deirdre.

- I'll see you when it's... - She'll be in room three.

- Deirdre: Arthur! - Right.

Good... good luck.

Voice of god: It may help to understand human affairs

to know that most of the great triumphs and tragedies of history

are caused not by people being fundamentally good

or fundamentally bad

but by people being fundamentally people.

You've left your lights on.

- That's clever. Is it infrared? - Has it started yet?

Um, they made me go out.

Any idea how long we've got?

Well, I think we were... Getting on with it, doctor.

Got it. What room's she in?

- We're in room three. - Room three. Got it.

Voice of god: There's a trick they do with three playing cards

which is very hard to follow, and something like it

for greater stakes than a handful of loose change, is about to take place.

Deirdre young is in delivery room three.

She has just given birth to a golden-haired male baby we will call

babya.

Harriet dowling is giving birth in delivery room four.

She is having a golden-haired male baby we will call baby b.

Psst.

Sister Mary loguacious is about to be handed a golden-haired male baby

we will call the adversary, destroyer of kings,

angel of the bottomless pit

prince of this world

and lord of darkness.

Oh! Is that him?

Yup.

Only I'd expected funny eyes,

or teensy-weensy little hoof-i-kins.

Or a widdle tail.

It's definitely him.

Fancy me holding the antichrist.

Counting his little toesy-wosies.

Do you look like your daddy?

I bet he does. Do you look like your daddy-waddy-kins?

He doesn't. Take him up to room three.

Room three.

Do you think he'll remember me when he grows up?

Pray that he doesn't.

Voice of god: Three babies.

Watch carefully.

Round and round they go.

Sister Mary, what are you doing here?

Shouldn't you be taking biscuits to the refectory?

Master crowley said to take the baby to room three.

Well, get on with it, then.

Has it happened yet?

I'm the father. The husband. Both.

Ooh, yes. Congratulations.

Your lady wife's asleep, poor pet.

Twins?

Nobody said anything about twins.

Oh, no, no. This one's yours.

That one's... someone else's.

Just looking after him. No, no.

This one is definitely yours, your ambassadorship,

from the top of his head to the tips of his hoofy-woofies,

which he hasn't got.

All... Present and correct, is he?

Oh, yes.

Normal. Very, very normal.

A boy! Mr president [Have the honour, sir,

to report myself the father of a regular y-chromosomed son.

Now we just have to take him away for a minute

to weigh him and the usual.

This father-of-a-male-boy-son is all yours, mr president.

Harriet! Yes!

Where's the baby?

Satan give me strength!

Do you know where our master's child is?

Sister Mary loquacious has him. In room three.

Now, we call these biscuits, but you'll be looking at them

and going, "oh, cookies."

I call them biscuits.

Voice of god: As methods of human communication go,

the human wink is quite versatile.

For example, sister Theresa's meant...

Where the hell have you been?

We're ready to make the switch,

and here's you in the wrong room with the adversary, destroyer of kings,

angel of the bottomless pit, prince of this world

and lord of darkness, drinking tea.

And as far as she was concerned,

sister Mary's answering wink meant...

This child is the adversary, destroyer of kings,

angel of the bottomless pit, prince of this world

and lord of darkness,

but I can't talk now because there's this outsider here.

Sister Mary, on the other hand,

had thought that sister Theresa's wink was more on the lines of ..

Well done, that sister Mary - switched over the babies all by herself.

Now, indicate to me the superfluous child

and I shall remove it and let you get on with your tea

with his royal excellency the American ambassador.

Extra baby removal!

But I'm wittering on.

Where were you before you took up this appointment?

Swindon.

Aww...

Here's your little man back.

All cleaned up and weighed.

Look, honey.

Ourson!

- He's beautiful, hon. - What a little tyke, huh?

Seeing him makes me understand what's important in life.

It's not work.

I'm going to teach him to play baseball,

- and on sundays we 71 go fishing... - Tad!

Sorry, honey, we 71 call you back.

You must name the child.

Well, we were going to name him Thaddeus, after his dad,

and his dad's dad.

- Damien's an excellent name. - Damien dowling?

Too alliterative.

Warlock, then. It's an old English name.

A good name.

Hello, warlock.

Damien?

No, I'd always fancied something more...

Well, traditional.

We've always gone in for good, simple names in our family.

Cain.

Very modern sound, Cain, really.

Or there's always...

I mean, there's always Adam.

Adam?

Hmm.

Adam.

Come on, little one.

Do you know, Deirdre...

I think he looks like an Adam.

Ooh.

Hello, Adam.

Voice of god: It would be nice to think that the nuns had the surplus baby

discreetly adopted. That he grew to be a happy, normal child,

and then grew further to become a normal, fairly contented adult

and perhaps that is what happened.

He probably wins prizes for his tropical fish.

Call aziraphale.

Car phone system: Calling aziraphale.

Sorry.

All lines to London are currently busy.

I'm afraid we're quite definitely closed.

Crowley: Aziraphale. It's me.

We need to talk.

Yes. Yes, .i' rather think we do.

I assume this is about...

Armageddon.

Yes.

Voice of god: Everyone knows the best place for a clandestine meeting in London

is, and always has been, st James's park.

They say the ducks are so used to being fed by secret agents

that they've developed pavlovian reactions to them.

The Russian cultural attache's black bread is particularly sought after

by the more discerning duck.

Crowley and aziraphale have been meeting here for quite some time.

You're sure it was the antichrist?

I should know. I delivered the baby.

Well, not delivered-delivered, you know, just...

Handed it over.

An American diplomat.

Really?

As if armageddon were a cinematographic show

you wished to sell in as many countries as possible.

The earth and all the kingdoms thereof.

We will win, of course.

- You really believe that? - Obviously!

Heaven will finally triumph over hell.

It's all going to be rather lovely.

Out of interest, how many first-class composers do your lot have in heaven?

Cos Mozart's one of ours.

Beethoven.

Schubert.

All of the bachs.

They have already written their music.

And you'll never hear it again.

No more Albert hall. No more glyndebourne.

Just celestial harmonies.

Well...

That's just the start of what you'll lose if you win.

No more... fascinating little restaurants where they know you.

No gravlax and dill sauce.

No more old bookshops.

We've only got eleven years, and then it's all over.

We have to work together.

It's the end of the world we're talking about.

It's not some little temptation I've asked you to cover for me

while you're up in Edinburgh for the festival.

- You can't say no. - No!

We can do something. I have an idea.

No! I am notinterested.

Well, let's have lunch. Hmm?

I still owe you one from...

Paris.

1793.

Yes.

The reign of terror.

Was that one of ours or one of yours?

Can't recall.

We had crépes.

Mmm...

That was scrumptious.

So, what are you in the mood for now?

Alcohol.

Quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol.

Aziraphale: I have several very nice bottles of chateauneuf-du-pape

in the back. I picked up a dozen cases in 1921, and there's still some left...

For special occasions.

Not very big on wine in heaven, are they, though?

Not going to get any more nice little chateauneuf-du-papes in heaven.

Or single malt scotch.

Or little... little froufrou cocktails with umbrellas.

Crowley, I've told you, I'm not helping you.

I'm not interested. This is purely social.

I am an angel.

You are a demon. We're hereditary enemies.

Get thee behind me, foul fiend!

After you.

Voice of god: That night Arthur and Deirdre young

proudly took the baby they believed was theirs

home to the quiet English village of tadfield

the antichrist had been on earth for 24 hours...

While in London's soho,

an angel and a demon had been drinking solidly for the last six of them.

So, what... what exactly is your point?

My point is... My point is...

Dolphins. That's my point.

Big brains. Size of...

Damn big brains.

Not to mention the whales.

- Brain city, whales. - Kraken.

Ohh...

Great big bugger.

Supposed to rise up to the surface, right... right up, at the end,

when the sea boils.

Well, that's my point!

Whole sea bubbling, the dolphins and whales,

everybody turning into bouillab... bouillab... bouillab...

Bouhl"

fish stew! Anyway, it's not their fault.

And that's... same with gorillas.

They say, like, "woo!" They say a lot of...

"The sky's gone red! There's stars crashing down!

"And what are they putting in bananas these days?"

All creatures great and small.

And you know what's worse? When it's all over,

you've got to deal with...

Eternity!

Eternity?

Yeah, it won't be so bad at first.

Although no Stephen sondheim first nights in eternity, I'm afraid.

Although I have heard rumours that your boss

really loves the sound of music.

Fancy spending eternity watching that?

Could literally climb ev'ry mountain over and over and over and over.

And over and over.

I don't like it any more than you do, but I told you.

Ican't diso...

Not do what I'm told.

I'm an angel. I...

I can't cope with this while I'm drunk.

I'm going to sober up.

Yeah. Me too.

Agh!

Voice of god: Harriet dowling took baby warlock to his new home,

an official London residence.

Our mission is done, lord hastur.

The baby is in place, and his parents are none the wiser.

Well, no need for the convent any longer, then, is there?

I'm afraid I...

- Dissolve. - What?

Your order's dissolved.

- We're what? - Hang on a moment.

We did everything that was asked of us. What about our reward?

So irritating.

You never shut up, do you?

We are a chattering order.

We say what is on our minds, and right now, what's on my mind

is that you can't treat us like...

Would you like to tell them that the order is dissolved?

Or would you rather that they all perish in the fire?

What fire?

Even if I wanted to help, I couldn't.

I can't interfere with the divine plan.

Well, what about diabolical plans?

You can't be certain that thwarting me isn't part of the divine plan too.

I mean, you're supposed to thwart the wiles of the evil one

- at every turn, aren't you? - Well...

You see a wile, you thwart. Am I right?

I... broadly.

Actually, I encourage humans to do the actual...

Look, the antichrist has been born.

But it's the upbringing that's important. The influences.

The evil influences, that's all going to be me.

It would be too bad if someone made sure that I failed.

If you put it thatway...

Heaven couldn't actually object if I was thwarting you.

It'd be a real feather in your wing.

We'd be godfathers... sort of.

Overseeing his upbringing.

If we do it right, he won't be evil.

Or good. He'lljust be normal.

Yes. It might work.

Godfathers.

Well, I'll be damned.

It's not that bad, when you get used to it.

I understand you need a nanny.

They do say as you might be looking for a gardener.

Oh, young master warlock!

You're growing fast.

You must be all of, er...

Five. I'm five.

What's that?

Oh, that's brother pigeon.

And brother snail.

Ooh, and sister slug.

Now, you remember, young warlock,

as you grow,

to have love and reverence for all living things.

Nanny says living things

are only fit to be ground under my heels, brother Francis.

Well, don't you listen to her.

You listen to me.

Will you sing me a lullaby, nanny?

Of course, dear.

♪ Go to sleep

♪ and dream of pain

♪ doom and darkness

♪ blood and brains

♪ sleep so sweet

♪ my darling boy

♪ you will rule

♪ when earth's destroyed... ♪

The gardener says that I must be kind and nice to everybody...

Even sister slug,

and not everdestroy the earth.

Don't listen to him.

Listen to me.

Voice of god: There are many doors that will take you to heaven or to hell,

but when crowley and aziraphale report in an official capacity

to their respective head offices,

they take the main entrance.

Tell us about the boy, warlock!

He's a remarkable child, lord beelzebub.

But is he evil?

Fantastically evil.

- Killed anyone yet? - Uh... not yet.

But there's more to evil than just killing people, eh?

I suppose. But it's fun.

Have you encountered any problems from the...

Opposition?

They don't suspect a thing.

I am proud to say that, on a very real level,

the antichrist child is now being influenced towards the light.

Very commendable, aziraphale.

- Excellent work, as usual. - Yes.

But aziraphale, we will be most understanding when you fail.

After all, wars are to be won.

Not avoided.

But... but I won't fail.

I mean, that would be bad.

Aziraphale,

what you're doing is praiseworthy, but obviously doomed to failure.

Still, as the almighty likes to say,

climb ev'ry mountain.

Ford every stream.

The boy's too normal.

Excellent. It's working.

The heavenly influences are balancing out the hellish.

A no-score draw.

I hope you're right. Only six years left to go.

- Crowley? - Yeah?

I mean, if he comes into his full power...

How do... how do we stop him, then?

I'm sure it won't come to that.

- He's big. - He's the biggest we've got.

Only the best for our young master-to-be.

Do you think he's hungry?

Only one way to find out.

- You, get in there. - Me?

Yes, yes. You.

Watch out for his teeth.

Ooh.

It's not like you didn't tell him to look out for the teeth.

I think he was hungry.

Warlock, are you listening to me, honey?

Look what they used to think dinosaurs looked like.

- Whatever. - They're old,

- and educational. - It's dumb.

It's not dumb, sweetie. It's a dinosaur.

A dumb-asaur, more like.

Can we talk about my birthday party?

Why can't we have my party in an escape room?

Honey, for the last time, we've already hired...

But mom...

Crowley: Well, we've done everything we can.

All we can do now is wait for his birthday.

The hell-hound will be the key.

Shows up at three on Wednesday.

Right.

You've never actually mentioned a hell-hound before.

Oh, well, yeah.

Yeah, they're sending him a hell-hound

to pad by his side and guard him from all harm.

Yeah.

Biggest one they've got.

Won't people remark on the sudden appearance of a huge black dog?

His parents, for a start.

No-one will notice anything.

It's reality, angel.

And young warlock can do what he likes with that,

whether he knows it or not.

It's the start of it all. The boy's meant to name it.

Stalks by night, throat-ripper, something like that.

But if you and I have done ourjob properly,

then he'll send it away unnamed.

- What if he does name it? - Then you and I have lost.

He'll have all his powers, and armageddon will be days away.

There must be some way of stopping it.

If there was no boy...

Then the process would stop.

Yes, but there isa boy.

He's over there writing a rude word on a description of a dinosaur.

Well, there is a boy now.

That could change.

Something could happen to him.

I'm saying you could kill him.

I've never actually... killed anything.

I don't think I could.

Not even to save everything?

One life against the universe?

This hell-hound.

- It'll show up at his birthday party? - Yeah.

Well, then we should be there. Maybe I can stop the dog.

In fact, I could entertain.

No, no, no. Please, no. No.

I just need to get back into practice.

Oh, no, no. Don't do your magic act.

- Please. - Wah!

Please! I am actually begging you.

You've no idea how demeaning that is. Please.

Wah...

- In your finger. - No, it was in your ear.

- It was in your pocket, then... - It was... close to your ear.

Never anywhere near my ear.

You're no fun.

- Fun? - Yes.

It's humiliating.

You can do proper magic. You can make things disappear.

But it's not as fun.

Make you disappear.

Where has he got to? Is he in here?

Somewhere?

There he is!

We'll come back to that one.

You sees me old top hat? But wait.

What's this?

Could it be our old furry friend...

Harry the rabbit?

It was in the table.

You said there was gonna be a celebrity magician.

I had penn & teller at my party

and I had a silent disco

- and I got a... - You're rubbish.

Excuse me. Excuse me!

He's right, you know.

You are actually rubbish.

Five, four,

three, two, one...

The time is upon us.

As soon as the boy names the hound,

armageddon will begin.

Find your master.

He's not back yet?

He's down in hogback wood playing with his friends.

I've told him to be home by teatime.

Right. Well, give me a shout when he gets back,

- and then we can light the candles. - Oh, you...!

That was the best 11th birthday ever.

It was all a bit of a disaster,

- I'm afraid. - Nonsense.

You gave them all a party to remember.

Last one any of them will ever have, mind.

It's late.

Comes of putting it up your sleeve.

Radio: Sky is still the subject there are 42 seconds available.

- The hell-hound. - Can you tell us something about...

- It's late. - The isle of Skye,

and your time starts...

Hello, crowley.

Hi. Who's this?

Dagon.

Lord of the files.

Master of t orments.

Yeah. Just checking in about the hell-hound.

He should be with you by now.

Why? Has something gone wrong, crowley?

Wrong? No. No, nothing's wrong. What could be wrong?

Oh, no, I see him now.

Yes, what a lovely big helly hell-hound.

Yes, ok, great talking to you.

No dog.

No dog.

Wrong boy.

Wrong boy.

Voice of god: The right boy was playing in the woods with his friends.

After all, it was his birthday.

Hogback wood was their Eden, where they could play,

unbothered by adults.

The children called themselves the them.

Pepper and Brian,

wensleydale,

and the birthday boy,

their leader who found their den and invented the best games of all.

A dam.

It's my birthday. Of course I'm going to get a dog.

You never get what you want. I wanted a bike,

and I asked for it, and I told them I wanted a razorblade saddle

and 12 gears and everything.

And do you know what they got me?

A girl's bike. With a basket.

But you are actually a girl, pepper.

That's just sexist.

- I want a dog. - Oh, right. And your mum and dad

are just going to get you a big old rottenweiler, then, Adam?

I don't want a big dog.

I want the kind of dog you can have fun with. A little dog.

I want a dog that's brilliantly intelligent

and can go down rabbit holes and I can teach tricks.

And I'll call him...

Voice of god: And this is the moment

the naming.

This will give it its purpose, its function, its identity.

This is the moment that sets armageddon into motion.

The hell-hound growls a low rumbling snarl of spring-coiled menace.

The sort of growl that starts in the back of one throat

and ends up deep in someone else 's.

I think I'll call him dog.

Saves a lot of trouble,

- a name like that. - And what?

This dog's just going to turn up?

Maybe.

Here, boy. Come on.

Crowley: Armageddon is days away, and we've lost the antichrist.

Why did the powers of hell have to drag me into this anyway?

Well, don't quote me on this,

but I'm pretty sure it's because of all those memos you kept sending them

saying how amazingly well you were doing.

Is it my fault they never check up?

I'm to blame they never check up?

Everyone stretches the truth a bit in memos to head office, you know that.

Yes, but you told them you invented the Spanish inquisition

and started the second world war.

So the humans beat me to it. That's not my fault.

Something's changed.

Oh, it's a new Cologne. My barber suggested...

I know what you smell like.

The hell-hound has found its master.

Are you sure?

- I felt it. Would I lie to you? - Obviously.

You're a demon. That's what you do.

Well, I'm not lying.

The boy, wherever he is, has the dog.

He's named it.

It's done.

He's coming into his power.

We're doomed.

Well, then.

Welcome to the end times.