The shot opens on a closed door. It's the same glass door in a red storefront that we've seen in the last video: This is A.Z. Fell and co. A hand reaches out from behind the camera and grabs the handle, jostles it, drops. The door is not budging. A little paper sign on the inside rocks lightly to and fro; the side of it that is facing the camera reads “Closed”.

“Look at this shit,” says Liv's voice while the hand is wildly gesturing at the offending door. “What is this? Germany?? Are we closing on Sundays now? And look at this!”

There is shaking and the camera zooms in on a smaller sign on the door that is titled “Opening Hours”. It is unnecessarily complicated and says absolutely nothing about when it will actually be open or not.

“I need to call my café date and postpone til tomorrow. Ugh,” the camera is swung around at the coffee shop on the other side of the street. People are coming with tired eyes and leaving with steaming paper cups in their hands. A blonde woman is standing in front of a window and looking at the coffee as if it has hung the moon. “At least I have somewhere to sit and draft a new plan of attack. This has been the most boring cold open ever.”

_{End of cold open}

---

A hard cut, and we're back in the room – you know the one: Pictures of Nessie, Wolpertingers and the Bunyip on the wall. Newspaper clippings about the Leviathan. And in front of it all a woman, sipping from a mug that says “Piss of Bray Road”. She is looking into the camera with the expression of someone who has just told their cat not to touch the vase on the table and came back to find that the floor has been turned into an art installation made of glass shards.

Liv: Sooooo, my Sunday wasn't really going to plan. I made a few phone calls, postponed a meeting, and then did what normal Americans do when in London: Let a bunch of thimbleriggers shake me down, go to the London Eye and let myself be ripped off again. As if I don't make fun of tourists queuing to go up the Empire State Building.

Liv: Anyway, I thought before I go around and find every tourist trap in the city, I ask someone from around the neighborhood about the cryptid I was lying in wait for.

We cut back to the same, blonde woman we left off with – only this time, she is facing the camera. We're inside the café now, sat at a table. There are significantly less people inside than outside, and Liv seems to be one of the only ones sitting down. The barista, a woman radiating no-nonsense energy with a perpetual frown, walks up to us.

Barista: (sounding slightly annoyed, but trying to be polite) Hi, what can I get you?

Liv: Uh, can I get an iced coffee and a piece of lemon cake?

Barista: Sure.

Liv: And, sorry, question. Can I film in here?

Barista: I don't really care as long as you're not bothering my other customers.

Liv: Great, thanks!

With a sickness-inducing amount of shaking, the camera is placed on the table.

Liv: Can I ask you a question?

Barista: If you're gonna ask me about my love life, I swear to god-

Liv: Uh. No.

Barista: I thought for a second you were with that police person. Because of the... (gestures at the camera)

Liv: Ah... no. The police asked you about your love life?

Barista: Not really the police. A police stripper.

Liv: Uuuuuuh... It's a go-to topic of conversation in a strip club, I guess?

Barista: No, a stripper dressed as a police person came into my shop to ask about my love life.

There's a stretch of uncomfortable silence in which Liv is blinking rapidly and then shaking her head.

Liv: I didn't think I could get culture shock from going to Britain. Ahm. No police, no love life questions. Not unless that love life involves the bookseller from across the street?

Barista: God no. Not my type; pretty sure I'm not his type; and almost certain that man of his would order a mafia hit on me.

Liv: What can you tell me about him?

Barista: Nothing. I'll get your iced coffee-

Liv: You know something. You know he has “a man”. That's something.

Barista: That's nothing.

Liv: That's misandrist.

Barista: You only say that because you haven't met him. Look, I'm not about to gossip about my neighbours, even if they probably sent that police person after me.

Liv: They send... the- the stripper, disguised as police, to ask about your love life?

Barista: Iced coffee with a side of lemon pie, right?

Liv: Your neighbors did that?

The barista leaves the table and walks behind the counter.

Cut back to Liv's studio in the present: Everything is the same, except the mug. It now says “Even Nessi wouldn't swim in this”.

Liv: British neighborhood culture is wild. On my block, we mostly ask for flour and a spare egg. But yeah, that was pretty much the only interesting thing that happened on that Sunday. Other than that, I saw the sites, read some more Yelp reviews, and spontaneously visited a photographer called Deborah, but that will only make sense later. So I think I'm just gonna throw you into Monday – day 3 of my stay in London.

The camera blinks to life on the dashboard of a car. It is pointed towards the two occupants: Liv behind the wheel, and an old woman with a kind smile in the passenger seat.

Liv: Thank you so much for agreeing to do this.

Old woman: Thank you so much for bringing me here. I wanted to see it again.

Liv: It's no problem. We're here. Would you like to rest a bit from the drive?

Old woman: I think I should. Especially since that last roundabout.

Liv: I- Uh. That was- I'm really sorry, the whole right-hand traffic is just really ingrained in my brain.

Old woman: Oh well, we survived. And so did that cyclist! Barely.

Liv: Um... How about we go and get you a table in the café I told you about. Anything you wanna get is on me!

Liv gets out and appears again at the passenger side of the car. She opens the door and helps the old lady stand. Once they're out of the car, they walk into the coffee shop that is visible through the rear window. It's called “Give me coffee or give me death” – the shop with the grumpy barista. After a while, Liv comes out again and goes to grab the camera. With a shaky rollercoaster ride of a recording, we are being carried to the other side of the road. Once Liv reaches the book store, the camera is shoved into her messenger bag again.

Liv: If it's closed today too, we'll just have to break a window and look around on our own. (a pause) In Minecraft. I don't wanna get eaten by a gigantic guard snake. Or bitten by Mr Midlife-Crisis-Goth.

She goes for the door handle and starts to rattle it with vigor. The door springs open immediately and the violence was completely unnecessary. The little bell rings and announces our presence as we slowly float into the bookstore, taking in the whole glory of it. This is the shot we saw in the cold open of the first video.

 

Voice over: You've seen this before – you know how it goes.

There is a blur of scenes from the last video, fast-forwarded and cut together: Four men with cricket bats. A middle-aged gentleman dressed very properly (for last century) in beige. The camera being pressed into a bookshelf. The four hoodlums sitting around a coffee table peacefully. Scones and tea. And suddenly the man in beige is very close to Liv and the camera.

Man: (perfectly unphased) Welcome to A.Z. Fell & co, my dear. Can I help you?

Liv: I, uuuh.

Liv is clearly distracted and seems to stare at the four no-longer-hostile men. After a good three seconds, she seems to remember that the man in front of her is the same person who hexed the racketeers, and she tries to take a step back. Behind her, the bookshelf shakes a little and she throws an apprehensive look over her shoulder. There's no escape.

Liv: I was just... looking for uh... Jim. And Mr Crowley.

Man: Oh, how nice! (he turns around and shouts into the general direction of the stairs) Jim? Have you and Crowley made a friend? There is a young lady here, asking for you! (he turns back to Liv) I'm afraid it might take him a little while. We decided to let him figure out how to put on his clothes all alone today. He's not particularly fond of shoelaces. And buttons.

Liv: Um, that's fine, I can... uh. (she points over her shoulder with her thumb, where the bookshelf is steadying itself for the next attack) Browse?

Man: Feel free to look around! It's so nice that Jim has made friends with someone. He's so fond of humans now.

Liv: Uh. Did you just say hum-

Man: Oh, but where are my manners. I am A.Z. Fell, the proprietor of this fine establishment!

Liv : Yeah, I- yeah. Ah, I mean: My name is Olivia Nathan. Nice to meet you!

Fell: So how did you meet Jim? In here, I hope?

Liv: Yyyyes...? Wait, is he not allowed outside?

Fell: Let's say, at the moment I would be a lot more comfortable if he kept himself to the confines of this building.

Liv: Your employee lives here, usually gets his clothes picked out and buttoned up by you, and he's also grounded?

Fell: Well. (It seems like there should be a sentence here, but none is coming.)

Liv: Well?

Fell: Well, he did behave rather poorly in the past, so I refuse to have a bad conscience about “grounding him”, as you say.

There is a moment where Liv visibly struggles with herself about whether to say something to that or not. In the end, insolence wins against reasonable fear.

Liv: Did you also ground the four thugs? (she points towards the sitting area where the clinking of tea cups can be heard from)

Fell: Oh no, they are free to leave if they wish to. After they finished their plates.

Hoodlum #1: (around a mouthful of food) The scones have just the right amount of crunch on the outside! Can I have another one?

Hoodlum #2: Shut up, Larry!

Larry the Hoodlum: Sorry, Jerry. (he takes another scone)

Fell: Well, they are also welcome to stop by at any time for tea. But not for their usual business, I'm afraid. (to the men with the cricket bats) Would that be alright?

Larry & Hoodlum #3: Thanks, Mr. Fell!

Jerry the Head-Hoodlum: Shut up!

Liv: Um... So I'm doing a little sort-of-documentary for Youtube. Would it be okay for me to film in here?

Fell: Oh, of course! How quaint! What's a Youtube?

Liv: Great, thanks! It's where people watch videos on the internet. (she takes the camera out of the bag and after a little more earthquake-like footage, we finally get a clearer picture of everything) You know, your employee wasn't comfortable with me filming in here, so I probably can't use any of Saturday's footage, which would be a shame...

Fell: Oh, Jim probably just didn't understand your question. Of course you can use your footage!

Liv: Thanks, that's really kind! But I meant Mr Crowley, not Jim.

Fell: Oh. Well, then I insist on you using it, after all the ruckus he caused while I was in Edinburgh. His authority to decide anything in this shop has been revoked without further notice. Do you know? He was terribly rude to my customers and made them all leave bad reviews.

Liv: I have an idea, yeah.

Fell: A documentary of my bookshop...! Will it be on the BBC?

Liv: Ahm... noooo... It will be on Youtube.

Fell: Oh. It's an American channel, is it?

Liv: Kind of?

Fell: Well, be sure to get good pictures of all the first editions in the back! I'm sure your American viewers would love to see a well-preserved King James Bible from 1611.

Hoodlum #3: Could I have another cup of tea?

Fell: (tuts) Is that how you ask a host for a favour in Croydon?

All Hoodlums, except Jerry, in perfect unison: Sorry, Mr Fell. Could we please have another cup of tea?

Liv takes a tentative step back from Mr Fell at this display of witchcraft, and tries to inconspicuously look around for an exit if she needs one.

Fell: Of course, gentlemen. As soon as I finished my conversation with this remarkable young lady about the documentary she will be making about my bookshop! (he sounds a little too proud)

Liv: I... uuuh. On second thought, maybe I should just...

Jerry the Head-Hoodlum: What is wrong with you idiots? Stop that, we need to get out of here!

Jerry throws his scone on the floor. Mr Fell looks at it like a disapproving parent, and then turns the same look towards his rude guest.

Fell: Really, now. Someone ought to bless you with good manners.

Jerry: Sorry, Mr Fell. I'd like another scone, if it's not too much trouble.

Fell: See, was that so hard? Thank you.

Liv: (visibly freaked out) How about... um, I just buy a book and then I'm on my way? (she picks a book at random from the shelf behind her and laughs nervously)

Fell: You want to buy a book?

There is a sudden shift in tone. The bookseller isn't offended per se, but he seems oddly disappointed with where the conversation has gone. And in extension, with Liv. She chances a scared look towards the Hoodlums, who seem to have lost all free will after offending the bookseller. After that, she glances towards the exit again and seems ready to bolt, when suddenly...

Crowley: You! I told you, you can't record your Vines in here!

Liv immediately runs over to the rude employee in with the sunglasses, who has just come in. That she has taken an obvious dislike to him, when they were trying to out-sarcasm each other two days ago, is seemingly forgotten. Now she stands behind him, like a chihuahua using its human's legs as a shield after barking at the scary mailman.

Fell: She's filming a documentary of my bookshop, Crowley! (he wriggles in delight) For an overseas channel!

Liv: Youtube. Vine has been dead for years.

Crowley: I warned it. Physical or digital, I won't stand for plants letting themselves go.

Fell: Oh, you simply must be in the documentary with me, my dear! Come over here!

The bookseller beckons Mr Crowley towards him. The man in black does not move anything but his eyebrow.

Crowley: I am not going to be in a documentary about a bookshop.

Fell: Oh, of course you will!

Crowley: Will not!

Liv: But you work here!

Crowley: I most definitely don't.

Liv: You were selling books here, two days ago!

Fell: (shocked) Crowley!

Crowley: No, what I did was not sell books here, so by definition I do not and have never worked here.

Liv: …fair. I can't really dispute that.

Fell: Now come over here so we can be in the picture together!

Liv: Uh, that's okay, I have you both in the shot from here already.

Mr Fell waves for Mr Crowley to come over, again. All in all, he seems very excited to be in a documentary about his shop. Mr Crowley still has his sunglasses on, so I suppose that's why he does an eyeroll with his entire upper body: His hands are tucked into the pockets of his jeans, but he throws his whole body backwards and then rolls it back upright.

Crowley: Okay, fine. But if we end up on Come Dine With Me, it's gonna be your fault.

Fell: (fondly) Oh, hush.

Liv: Really, it's okay.

Mr Crowley slouches over to Mr Fell and stands so close to him that their shoulders are touching. He looks as if Mr Fell just asked him to take over his place at the dentist's during a root canal treatment. Mr Fell beams at him as if he's hung the stars.

Meanwhile, Liv looks a little anxious that she can't hide behind the sarcastic salesman from the creepy shop owner, anymore.

Liv: Ah. Okay, great. I'll... film you like that, then.

Fell: (with a very put-on voice) Hello and welcome to our bookshop, A.Z. Fell and Co.

Mr Crowley turns his head and looks at his boss with a small smile on his face.

Fell (cont.): I opened it in 1800 and have been collecting first editions, rare volumes and reading materials of all kinds ever since!

Crowley: But Satan help you if you ever want to buy anything.

Liv: What do you mean, you opened it in 1800?

Fell: Right. I mean my ancestor of course.

Crowley: Of course.

Liv: Which ancestor, exactly?

Crowley: Yeah, which ancestor was it, angel?

Fell: It was my... great-great-great-great-great-grandfather.

Crowley: What was his name again?

Fell: (glares at him) His name was Anthony J. Fell, if you must know.

Mr Crowley barks out a laugh.

Liv: Wait, then why did he call the shop A.Z. Fell and not A.J. Fell?

Crowley: What a great question! Why is that, angel?

The glaring from Mr Fell intensifies.

Fell: Well, maybe he thought that just a J sounds extraordinarily silly in a name.

Crowley: (snorts) Bastard.

Liv: You see, the reason I was doing this sorta-kinda-documentary is because there's a lot of rumors online that this shop is being run by a cryptid.

Fell: A what?

Liv: A magical creature, or person, I guess, in your case. A person who founded the shop in 1800 and is still running it to this day.

Fell: O-oh.

Crowley: Well, would you look at that, what an interesting concept for a documentary!

Fell: (unsure) Well... (pause) That would be ludicrous though, wouldn't it? I am not my great-great-great-grandfather.

Crowley: Only half as great as five seconds ago, is he?

The glaring from Mr Fell at his employee is back.

Fell: I might have accidentally tacked on too many “great”s before. He really was my great-great-grandfather.

Crowley: There goes another one.

Liv: I mean, I suppose it would make sense that, if your... uh, great-great-grandfather opened the shop, you would look a lot like him.

Crowley: Huh, would it? Let's see, if they were having a child at the age of 25 on average, then that would be... what, 100 years back from now? How old are you again, angel?

Fell: I... am.... (looking at Mr Crowley intensely) sev-

Mr Crowley raises an eyebrow minutely.

Fell (cont.): Fif-...

Mr Crowley's eyebrow goes down again and he gives a small nod.

Fell (cont.): Fifty!

Liv: That would mean that you were born in 1973, and four generations of your ancestors have to span over 173 years, where the last of them would have to have been at least 18.

Crowley: They have their children at a rather old age, the Fells. It's tradition.

Liv: In the 19^th century?

Crowley: Took them a while to find a spouse. Hard to find people willing to marry a recluse with a bookshop that doesn't sell books.

Mr Fell starts his favorite past-time of glaring at Mr Crowley again.

Liv: That reminds me. I wanted to go through some of the theories I've found online, but there's so many, I think I'll do it in a blog post another time. But one thing that comes up again and again is: Are you married?

Fell: Me?

Liv: The both of you. (points at Mr Crowley) To each other.

Mr Crowley starts sputtering consonants that I don't know how to transcribe.

Fell: Married? (he looks a little shell-shocked, all of a sudden)

Liv: Yeah. Only there's this girl called “Traveller” online who is injecting herself in all the theories about you and she insists that you must be married.

Crowley: (disinterested grunt)

Liv (cont.): But there's other theories about Mr Crowley being your guardian angel-

Crowley: (frustrated gurgle)

Liv (cont.): and I've also read reviews insinuating you had a wife and a little boy during that period in 2007, when the shop was closed.

Crowley: (teakettle whistle)

Liv (cont.): I can't tell which one I believe more, so I'll just redirect that question to you.

Crowley: No we-

Fell: In a manner of speaking, yes, we're married.

Crowley: Ngk?!

Mr Crowley's head whips around and he's staring at Mr Fell in wonder. (I'd say maybe they're not out, but if that's true, they have been making so much ruckus in their closet for the last few years, that everybody knows they're in it.)

Fell (cont.): These other people must be mistaken. The person they saw here with me and the little boy, was my dear Crowley here.

Liv: I heard they were pretty sure that it was a woman.

Fell: Well, so is Crowley sometimes.

Liv: Oh! Sorry! I just assumed- I shouldn't have assumed, I guess. Sorry.

Fell: Well, I suppose that answers all your questions, and clears the ridiculous angel-accusation up, doesn't it? There are no ethereal beings here.

Jim's voice: Hello! You again! Did you remember what letter your book starts with?

Into view comes Jim, dressed in tuxedo pants, a Christmas sweater and a pajama button-up on top of it all.

Liv: Oh, hi again! (to Mr Fell) Is he the son then?

Fell: He is... in foster care. Just like the little boy was, too. (looks at Jim's outfit) Oh dear.

Crowley: Hm.

Fell: What are you wearing?

Jim: Do you like it? I picked it out myself!

Fell: I can see that. And why is Crowley not commenting on it? Crowley?

Crowley: Hnnn?

Fell: Are you alright, dear? You are staring at me like you saw a ghost, while there is a perfectly mockable Jim around.

Hoodlum #3: He looks besotted!

Crowley: Ngk.

Jerry the Head-Hoodlum: Don't put your nose in other people's relationships, Barry! It's impolite!

Barry the Hoodlum: Sorry, boss.

Larry the Hoodlum: Could we have some more scones?

Fell: Of course! I'll be right over. (he turns to Mr Crowley and pats his chest amicably) Maybe you should go and get some fresh air, dear.

Mr Crowley finally stops staring at Mr Fell's face and instead looks at the hand on his chest.

Crowley: Ngkay.

Fell (cont.): (turns to Jim) And you go get some more scones for our friends. There should still be some left in the backroom.

Jim: Righto!

Fell (cont.): (to Liv) And you can end your documentary, assured that there is nothing out of the ordinary going on here.

Jerry the Head-Hoodlum: Hey, I wanted to say a rude word to Barry. Why can't I say a rude word anymore? I'm not saying “a rude word”, I'm saying “a rude word”! ...Oh, god bless it!

Fell (cont.): Absolutely nothing is strange, everything tickety-boo; there are no angels, guardian or otherwise, and no people pretending to be their ancestors.

The little bell at the entrance rings again, and while Mr Crowley is leaving, a blonde woman is leading the old lady by the hand, whom we last left at the café across the street.

Blonde woman: Hello, Mr Fell. This dearie here wanted to take a look around your shop, so I thought I'd help her get here.

Fell: Oh, thank you, Maggie. And hello to you and your new friend!

Liv: So, you're saying you're not the person who ran this shop in... oh, let's say 1941?

Fell: Of course not!

Liv: What a pity, because if you were, you might recognize Doreen Lester, the little girl that the shop's owner took in during World War II, and whose diary entry wound up on your Yelp-page.

Fell: I-

Old lady: Hello! It has been such a terribly long time!

Liv: Doreen, meet Mr Fell, the owner of the store.

Doreen: It is so nice to see you again!

Fell: (seemingly overwhelmed) Oh.

Cut to black.

Voice over: You know the drill: If you wanna know what Doreen and I can uncover, you should like and subscribe. And watch the next video in this series or suffer the Leviathan's wrath!