A bright, old-fashioned bell rings as we fade from black into a beautiful, gloomy bookshop. The image is so striking that you can smell the sweet odour of old paper and leather.

Voice over: They say that this place burned down in 2018 and even though there is no charred wood, no missing shelves or charcoal tang in the air, and I'm willing to believe them. Just with the caveat that, maybe, they are mistaken about the date. This is what I picture it must have been like, before the fire in 48BC: Alexandria.

Voice over (cont.): Alright. Maybe I'm overly dramatic.

The muffled voice of a man can be heard. It's almost unintelligible but there's a noticeable London accent. The subtitles say: “Listen here, pansy. A lot of shops in this neighborhood... suddenly catch fire, if you catch my drift. Would be a real shame if that happened to yours, wouldn't it?”

A man answers in the crispest RP: “I rather think it would.” He sounds slightly put out, but not as bothered as I for one think he should be by this.

The voice of the Londoner is heard again: “And that's why you should pay our... protective charge.”

The position of the camera seems weirdly low as it totters closer. Everything is filmed from an uncomfortable angle that has you looking up at a young woman's chin. Sometimes when she moves her hand, a ragged edge frames the shot: A zipper from a bag that obscures the recording device from anyone else in the shop.

At the edge of that sawed off horizon, four men come into view, two of whom are carrying cricket bats. The woman stops and takes a step back again.

“For just 200 quid a month, we'll make sure your extremely flammable little bookshop does not accidentally catch fire,” says one of the men who are probably not cricket players.

“What the f███,” the voice from the voice-over whispers. Only this time, it's in the actual shot, and not a voice-over anymore. There is hectic movement and the camera lens is briefly obscured. When the shaking stops, we are very close behind a bookshelf, with only a couple of partial spines visible.

The calm RP accent is heard again: “Thank you, but I don't think that will be necessary. We just recently had a fire, and I'm quite sure I can handle them on my own.”

“Oh shit, f███, f███, they're blocking the door,” a female voice whispers near the microphone.

“I don't think you understand, gramps,” the man with the thick London accent says menacingly.

“Oh, I understand perfectly well, my dear chap,” the calm voice answers. “Would you like some scones?”

There's a cacophony of four male voices in varying stages of confusion: “Uh, yeah?”, “Yes, please”, “That sounds nice” and “I- uh. I don't- I mean, I think so?”

“Splendid!” The RP accent sounds delighted. “Then let me fetch the scones, and I will make each of you young chaps a nice hot cup of tea. You can take a seat at the coffee table over there.”

A door closes. Some furniture scrapes. Very slowly, the camera moves again and turns around to face a sitting area underneath a skylight, complete with a small table, a couch and an armchair. Everything is absolutely cluttered with books. Four very confused looking hoodlums are very politely sitting around the table with their backs straight and their hands folded in their laps.

“What the f-”

There is no “bleep” this time because the curse is interrupted by the door in the back opening and a robust, beige man carrying a tray scones and a tea set out of it. “Here you go,” he says amicably as he sets it down between the four men with their well-behaved bodies and terrified faces. They each pick up a scone and a tea cup and splay out their pinkie fingers as they sip.

The voice of the man in beige – which is the one with the perfect RP accent – suddenly is very close: “Welcome to A.Z. Fell & co, my dear. Can I help you?”

“I, uuuh.”

Record scratch. Freeze Frame. The Voice over is back: “Hi everyone, I'm Liv, your friendly neighborhood Leviathan, and yeah. That's me. In the middle of a protection racket and a curse. You're probably wondering how I got here.”

A pause, and a short laugh, then: “...sorry, I've always wanted to do that for an intro.”

_{End of cold open}

---

Jump cut. We see LiviaThan in front of her usual set: A wall that is hung with several blurry photos and crude drawings of a Nessi, the Yeti, the Beast of Bray Road, and several other cryptids. Above all, there is a newspaper clipping with the headline “Leviathan sighted: What lurks in the Pacific?”

She herself is holding a steaming mug with the words “Jackalope Fuel” printed on it in neat lettering.

Liv: Good morning, LeviaFans and people who have no idea what this is because the Youtube algorithm is shit. Oh boy, do I have a trip for you! Because what you stumbled into is a channel where I, Liv, hi!, talk about myths and cryptids, their origins and how they are viewed by society today. And I have a special video for all of you.

Liv (cont.): Some of you might remember the videos I did... oh god, 5 years ago, now – how is this channel still alive? Anyway. So, in 2018, I did a series where I explained the entries on the cryptid iceberg. And in the last section, I briefly mentioned “the Soho bookshop cryptid” and said we're not gonna go into it “for reasons”.

Liv (cont.): Well. (deep breath) This video is “reasons”. It was supposed to come out in 2019, by the way. But while researching, the stuff I found became weirder. And weirder. And, yeah, okay, I fell into a tiny rabbit hole of “What the fuck is that bookshop”, and before I knew it, it was 2020 and... uh. Let's just say traveling to another country was a bit more... forbidden than I had planned for.

Liv (cont.): So then, I don't even know what happened to 2021 and you can't convince me that year even existed – and then 2022 rolled around and I had personal stuff going on.... Long story short, it's 2023 now and I have a flight booked for Europe tomorrow. London, to be specific. Because if you didn't know – and I sure didn't before I first started researching – Soho, as in “Soho bookshop cryptid”, is in London.

Liv (cont.): Cue all the angry British viewers leaving comments like “What did you think Soho is?!” Look, only last week, I talked to someone from Germany who thought that “Hell's Kitchen” is a place they made up for Gordon Ramsey and Daredevil. You Europeans are not better than us.

Liv (cont.): Anyway. It's time to pack my bags. I'll tell you the rest on the way. Come on!

She waves at the camera as if to tell us to follow her, and then grabs it. The screen goes dark for a second. There are glimpses of a suitcase being dragged across a sidewalk and heaved into a taxi trunk. The outside of an airport that Liv is pointing towards while pulling an overly panicked face. And then clouds and the ocean beneath them. The camera shakes and is turned around to the face of our host looking towards the aisle, nodding and accepting a glass of water. Then she turns her attention towards the recording again.

Liv: Okay, so. (She toasts her glass towards the audience.) The abridged version is: A long time ago, someone started a thread on r/AskReddit where they dunked a bunch of screenshots from Yelp and sarcastically asked the community if that stuff was normal in the UK. On the pictures were reviews of a bookshop in Soho – which, yes, is a part of London, gold star for remembering! – by a lady complaining about a dog with glowing eyes, and another commenter saying there is a giant snake in the shop.

Liv (cont.): From there, it got more and more traction. People theorized about what's wrong with the animals, and then the conspiracy theorists came, and eventually, it got its own subreddit under r/bookshopcryptid. That's where I started my research and found the Yelp page pretty quickly. Yupp: It's real, the reviews are real, and so are dozens more that are way weirder than what we've seen so far. But we'll cross those bridges when we get to them.

The screen fades to black.

It looks like it blinks awake again on a cloudy afternoon in a street that is visibly older and decidedly more English than anything you find in the US. The camera zooms in on a coffee shop with the name “Give me coffee or give me death”, and a hand comes into frame from behind the camera, frantically pointing at it several times.

Liv: Important date in there tomorrow. Remember this. (a breath) But first... (she turns around) let's go and buy a book, shall we?

A red store front comes into view. The windows are huge but caked in a patina of dirt that only decades and decades of not paying your cleaning staff will buy you. In between the milky glass you get some rare glimpses of the inside – or rather the mountains of books that are stacked immediately behind the window. On top, yellow letters are announcing that this is “A.Z. FELL AND Co. – PURVEYOR OF BOOKS TO THE GENTRY”. The camera crosses the street, rounds a corner and is shoved into a bag at Liv's side, before she pushes open a door that leads to the sight that we saw in the cold open of this video: The Bookshop (capital T, capital B). A bell rings to announce our presence, accompanied by voices in the middle of a conversation:

Man's voice: Have you tried chewing on the jacket of a Kafka? I heard that is almost the same taste.

Woman's voice: Funny. I just wanted to know if you at least have that if you're not even selling the Descartes first edition!

Man's voice: What would someone who thinks bookshops sell frozen yogurt do with a first edition of “Discours de la méthode”?

Woman's voice: I- It was a joke, the whole frozen yogurt thing! And it's for my boyfriend if you have to know!

Man's voice: I suggest you take your boyfriend to a bad Italian ice cream parlour run by an American, then.

Woman's voice: What? No, not the yogurt, the- oh fork it. I'll leave. (in a cheery tone) But just so you know: I'll leave a review so scathing, you'll go to hell for it!

Man's voice: Hah! Do your worst!

The bell rings again. There's a beat of silence.

Liv: Um, excuse me!

Man's voice: (sounding uninterested) We probably don't have what you're looking for and if we did, we wouldn't sell it to you.

The bag (and Liv) swing closer to the voice and we see a tall man with sunglasses tower over the camera.

Liv: Uh... can I just browse?

Man with sunglasses: I don't know. Can you?

Liv: Did they hire you for your dad jokes or for your exceptional sales tactics, because-

A cheery voice: Hello! Can I help you browse? I am Jim! Short for-

Man with sunglasses: -short for 'we're just about to close'.

Jim: (confused) No, that's not right. 'Just' is short for 'Justin', not 'Jim'!

The rude salesclerk-slash-failed-rockstar waves dismissively into the direction of the cheery voice.

Man with sunglasses: Go have a look around with her, then. But remember the rules!

Jim: Nooooooo sales.

Man with sunglasses: No sales.

Jim: Nooooo talking about my name.

Man with sunglasses: No talking about any names.

Jim: Nooooo leafing through the sketchbooks when Crowley is watching.

Man with sunglasses: No leaf- Wait what?

Jim: No wait, that's the rule after “Don't tell Crowley about this rule”. Right! Customer? Follow me to the books! Just behind this bookshelf! In front of the other bookshelf! On the third bookshelf!

As he says that, he – a broad-shouldered man with a wide grin – comes into view and stirs us – the camera and Liv – deeper into the labyrinth of books.

Man with sunglasses: (distantly) What sketchbooks?!

Jim: Are you looking for a book?

Liv: Do you sell anything else?

Jim: I'm not sure we (he makes air-quotes with his fingers) “sell anything”. But we have more than books! We have flies. And cocoa. Do you want cocoa? We don't sell it, but he (pointing back the way he came) makes a mean cocoa when he gets upset. (short pause) It's really easy to make him upset.

Liv: If this is not already his “upset” state, then I don't really want to hear the bitching when he is upset, thank you. You say you're new. Since when do you work here?

Jim: Oh, around noon! We were having a laaaaaate day today!

Liv: No, I mean- How did you hear about the job opening? Were they advertising in the papers? I couldn't find any internet presence of this shop aside from Yelp.

Jim: I- (he hesitates) I... remembered? And then I came here?

Liv: You showed up, just like that, with a job application? Sorry if I'm asking a lot of questions, I'm just really interested in this place. How did the interview go after you arrived?

Jim: Very confusing! I didn't know the answer to any of the questions that Aziraphale – uh, the owner of the bookshop – asked me! And he was veeery frustrated. He even yelled at me once. I don't remember him ever yelling at me before!

Liv: Oh, so you knew him before? And he yelled at you during a job interview?

Jim: Yeah! I didn't know much else, but I knew he would help me! But I think he was very upset that I showed up without what I was supposed to bring to him. Or clothes.

Liv: You showed up without- That was you! There were videos on Instagram! Uh, I'm sorry that people took your medical emergency and put it on the internet. The shop owner wrote something about you being confused and needing help.

Jim: Oh yeah, I'm reeeally good at being confused and needing help. That's why I came here! Crowley loves questions and Aziraphale loves helping!

Liv: I heard he is a very helpful person. So I'm guessing that much is true?

Jim: Oh yeah! He gave me a blanket and a bedroom and a name...

Liv: A wha-

Jim (cont.): ...and a lot of books to read! Would you like a book?

Liv: Uh. Yeah! Do you have any books about the Flying Dutchman, maybe?

Jim: Ohoho! Do we! I'm sure we do. What letter do they start with?

Liv: I'm not looking for specific titles.

Jim: Yeah, no, I meant the first sentence in the book. What letter does that start with?

Liv: I... don't know?

Jim: Ah, don't worry, I have developed an infallible search system! Come over here!

He leads us to a shelf with books that are in absolutely no discernable order. A Hemingway is wedged in between “50 Shades of Grey” and “How and Why Wonder: The Solar System”. He starts pulling them off the shelf and looking at the spines. After about 5 minutes of this, he says:

Jim: My system has discerned that it doesn't start with an A. On to B.

Liv: On second thought, I think I'd just like to buy this one.

Liv pulls a book off the shelf, seemingly without even looking. The sales assistant takes it from her to look at and leaf through.

Cheery Man: “The Picture of Dorian Gray”. Huh. That must be a misprint! It doesn't have a single picture!

Liv: That's fine. Can I buy it?

Jim: I mean, you can try?

Liv: What's that supposed to mean?

They walk towards the front of the shop again, where the rude man with the sunglasses is trying his irresistible charms on a new customer who is already halfway out the door.

Man with sunglasses: -from the back. A five-pence might just be a smidge too heavy for someone of your physique.

Customer: I can't- ...Why- ...This is- ! Oh! Oh really!

Man with sunglasses: I told you.

Customer: It's glued to the pavement!

Man with sunglasses: (in mock outrage) No!

Customer: This really is the rudest way I have ever been treated in my entire life!

Man with sunglasses: So sad to hear it, Sir, please leave a review and don't let the door hit you on your way out.

He snaps and the door slams shut – on the customer's behind. There is a yowl and then indistinctive swearing on the other side of the glass.

Liv: Hi again. Are you the owner?

Man with sunglasses: Do I look like I own a bookshop?

Liv: Given that you're currently standing behind the register of a shop stacked to the roof with books...?

Man with sunglasses: Look at you, being old enough to know context clues! The owner is gone.

Jim: To Edinburgh to find a song that was stuck in my head.

Liv: Is... that a British proverb?

Man with sunglasses: Yes, it means keep your American nose out of other booksellers' business. ...did you happen to see any sketchbooks while you were rifling through our stuff?

Liv: Depends. What letter does it start with?

Man with sunglasses: What is that supposed to mean?

Liv: See? I have no idea but I thought you would know what it means. Anyway, we have established that the book we found does not have any pictures, so it probably isn't your sketchbook.

Man with sunglasses: In that case, let's loop back to keeping your nose out of the bookshop. Literally. We're closing.

Liv: It's 3pm!

Man with sunglasses: Jim's bedtime is very early.

Liv: I have a couple of questions first. I'm making a... “documentary” about this shop. What's your name?

Man with sunglasses: None of your business.

Jim: Is that long for Crowley? Because everyone else calls you Crowley. Or slinky lad, in case of Ms. Sandwich from next door.

There is an audible crunch that might or might not be Slinky Lad's teeth grinding into dust.

Crowley: (to Liv) Can you ask your other questions from the other side of the door?

Liv: That would seem kinda rude of me and I've been told you Brits are big on manners, even though I've found the perfect exception to that rule. Can I buy this book?

Crowley: Yes. Do you have a phone? Type in: “amazon.co.uk”.

Jim: I thought everyone who uses that word under this roof gets kicked out.

Crowley: I can use it, the customers can't. And you can't. You have to do what the angel says, I get to do what I want and then pretend I don't see the withering glares.

Jim: Aaaah, but I have to follow his rules. That makes sense. That's why I can't show you the sketchbooks.

Crowley: No, no, no, no wait! What sketchbooks?

Jim: Aha! Nice try, but I know you're testing me. Rule number one: Don't talk about the sketchbooks to Crowley! And you just said I have to do what Aziraphale says.

Crowley: Oh for-

Liv: Is it true that you don't sell any books?

Crowley: We- Who told you that?

Liv: I have read your entire Yelp page and not a single person ever managed to buy a book.

Crowley: Well, why would they mention that they bought a book in a Yelp review of a bookshop? That seems rather redundant.

Liv: With the amount of people mentioning that they failed to buy a book, it seems like it there should be at least one mentioning they got one and love it or whatever.

Crowley: People love to complain. They never write reviews when they're happy.

Liv: Exactly! Except with this shop, where a lot of people are very vocal and happy about not being able to buy anything.

Crowley: Who are you again?

Liv: Olivia Nathan. Nice to meet you, Mr. Crowley.

Crowley: It's not.

Liv: Yeah, we agree on that.

Crowley: So, Ms Nathan, ask away! Just know that asking questions will get you thrown out without answers.

Liv: You speaking from experience?

He pauses for a second and gives her an odd look.

Crowley: We're closing in one minute. Ask your questions or leave.

Liv: I thought you're closing right now and you won't answer my questions?

Crowley: Oh, I'm not going to answer them. Can't exactly chuck you out on your ear without a chance to ask, though, can I? Only an absolute bellend would do that if you ask me.

Liv: Alright. What do you know about the shop's owner?

Crowley: Your life expectancy isn't long enough for the answer. Next one.

Liv: Nice, we've moved on from rude to vaguely threatening. Are there any animals here? Dogs, snakes?

Crowley: No, this shop is cruelty free. We do have a Jim though.

Jim: Hi! I'm also cruelty free, but people keep telling me that I have not always been!

Liv: Staying in “vaguely threatening”-territory I see. Last question: Can I film in here?

Crowley: Can- I'm not dancing in your Tic Tac! Get out.

Liv: Fine!

There is a cut back to the room with the cryptid posters and the news paper clipping about the Leviathan sighting. Lazy footsteps are heard as Liv meanders back into the frame, sipping from a cup that says “Sasquatch tears” on it.

Liv: So. My first day in London wasn't very fruitful. But to be fair, I had just landed, my jetlagged inner clock thought it was 10am in the morning, and the guy-slash-cryptid I was looking for was apparently in another country. But remember the start of the video? Or that I mentioned I had plans for the café on the other side of the road? Gosh, surely that won't come back and be obnoxiously relevant later on, right?

Liv (cont.): But unfortunately for you, all this took a lot longer than I anticipated and I need to appease the Youtube gods with several videos this week. So this will be a series. And you will watch the next part or the Leviathan will get you! I'll see you then!

She waves and the camera seemingly shuts off. After a few seconds of black silence, however, there is a sudden cut to a shaky, blurred image of the man in sunglasses talking to a blonde man. It is apparently filmed from far away and on an unflattering level of digital zoom. Suddenly, a huge grinning face jumps into view so close by that nothing is visible anymore. “'ello, 'ello, 'ello, what have we here?” says an overly cheery voice that is indeniably disguised to be deeper than it is naturally. “Don't make me arrest you for recording a private conversation!”

The recording is cut off from there, and the words “Subscribe to be alerted for the rest of the videos” appear on screen.