Original subtitles

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 90 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 18, 19 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 bomb 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.

Shoot 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 52 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 bomb 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 bomb went off, Mrs. H.

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

I paid you for 40 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 24 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 Nazi 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 24 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 8:30 p.m. tonight.

Thank you very much.

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

Something climactic.

Like that.

A Bullet 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 died 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 15 shillings for the rifle.

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...

27 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 100% 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 shooting, I'll catch the bullet.

I'll do all the hard bits.

As a demon, you must have fired off a lot of guns, 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 bullet 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 rifle...

Ah!

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

- Now, sir... - Got you.

...I would ask that you take this bullet

and load it into the rifle.

Very carefully.

It's perfectly simple. Aim for my mouth,

but shoot past my ear.

I just squeeze that there, do I not?

Haven't you fired a gun before?

Not as such.

If you would...

load the bullet into the gun.

That's right.

Bullet loaded!

Yes, thank you.

Ladies and gentleman,

my volunteer

here, will on...

on my signal,

fire the rifle at my head,

and in that explosive moment,

I will attempt to catch that bullet

in my teeth!

Are you ready, sir?

When you hear my signal, sir,

shoot.

Ready?

Of course, we are hooked.

Aim.

If that gun 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 Bullet 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 17.

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,

killing 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 attack 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.