We fade in from black to a still of the shocked face of the bookseller (slash cryptid?) standing opposite a nice, older lady with a warm smile. Liv's voice-over starts lazily and you can hear her sipping from a cup of coffee in between sentences: “Yeah, no cold open this time – you know where we were...”

The recording starts to rewind like an old VHS tape, until it stops and starts to skip to certain points in a collage of the things we've seen in the last video:

Four large men are sitting around a coffee table and having tea time with backs so straight, they would make a geometry teacher weep. One of them says: “Hey, I wanted to say a rude word to Barry. Why can't I say a rude word anymore?”

With a slim, dark-clad person standing next to him, the bookseller says: “In a manner of speaking, yes, we're married.”

Another scene, and Liv is asking him: “So, you're saying you're not the person who ran this shop in... oh, let's say 1941?” – “Of course not!” he answers easily.

And finally, we see the old lady again, as she takes a step towards the store owner, her hands slightly outstretched as if to take his. She says: “It is so nice to see you again!” All that he can say is an “oh” around his slack-jawed expression and wide eyes.

The voice over interrupts: “And here we are. Let's restart time, shall we?”

And with that, the recording of the bookshop bursts to life.

_{End of cold open}

---

Doreen: Do you remember me? I was here, I was... here.

Fell: I- I thought... I heard you were dying. A couple of years ago. 2019.

Doreen: Yes, that's what they told me, too. All these fine doctors had given up on me. Except one.

Fell: You were... I'm sure you were...

Doreen (cont.): Came in one day, took me by the hand and pulled me to my feet. “It's not yet time, old girl,” he said. I hadn't been able to stand up for several years until then.

Fell: Oh.

He suddenly stares out of the window. His eyes seem unfocused, until they suddenly latch on to something and clear up. It's like surprise, understanding and awe flash over his face in the span of seconds.

Fell: I see.

The bell above the door chimes, and the camera turns towards it, to reveal Mr Crowley in the doorway, frozen mid-motion, as he sees something in the store he apparently did not expect. He very casually steps outside again and pulls the door shut as silently as possible. The bell does not chime again for some reason.

Fell: Well, I am ever so glad to see you well, even if we never met in person and I have only heard from you from my father, of course. And recently, from that diary entry that was sent to me.

Doreen: Oh! But you... (her hand reaches out towards his face, not really to touch, but to grasp for something unseen between them) You look exactly like I remember you.

Fell: I'm sure the memory must have faded over all these years. And people do tell me that I look a lot like my grandfather.

Liv: Didn't your partner say there's a few “grand”s missing?

Fell: Well. And my grandfather rather looked a lot like his. Or so I've been told.

Doreen: It's like stepping back in time.

She takes a deep breath and turns around to look at the shelves, the windows, the winding staircase that leads up to the open second story.

Doreen: I was only here during the war, because we lost our house. And still, I never remember the war when I remember this bookshop. It was always so peaceful in here.

Mr Fell smiles softly at her.

Fell: Would you like a cup of cocoa, my dear?

Doreen: Oh, yes. He had cocoa, your grandfather. Always had cocoa. In the middle of the war.

Jerry the Head-Hoodlum: Here, take my seat! (he gets up and looks annoyed about it, too) Larry! Go get me a new chair!

Larry the Hoodlum: But my- (he sighs and puts down his fourth scone) Okay, boss.

Doreen: Oh, what helpful young men! You can call me Dory. What are your names?

Barry the Hoodlum: (pointing) I'm Barry. That's Jerry, Larry and Jean-Claude Baptiste.

Hoodlum #4 (Jean-Claude Baptiste): Wesh, wesh!

Fell: Well, that explains why he wasn't talking, I suppose.

Jim: (returning from the backroom with a tray) I brought more of those little dough balls! And tea!

Fell: And can you bring a cup of cocoa, please?

Jim: Aw, can Crowley make it? I want one too.

Mr Fell has a brief moment where he just has a private, little smile on his face and looks towards the door. Then he turns to Doreen.

Fell: My dear, do you remember what that physician looked like – the one who discharged you from the hospital?

Doreen: Oh, no. I had been very ill at the time, and he was wearing those new-fangled sunglasses.

Fell: (mumbling to himself) Some might say terminally. (to Jim) Go fetch Crowley and tell him it is perfectly fine for him to come in. And tell him to make three cocoas.

Jim: Buuuuuut he's outside.

Fell: Right.

Jim: I am not allowed outside.

Fell: We'll make an exception for this. He is right in front of the door.

Jim: Yussss! (pumps his arm excitedly and leaves)

Liv: Soooo, while we're waiting. Do you mind telling me why your employer is not allowed outside and even lives upstairs?

Fell: This is not a sweatshirt shop!

Liv: Do you mean a sweat shop?

Fell: That, too!

Liv: That hadn't even crossed my mind, but now that you mentioned it, I should maybe-

Fell: He lives here because he is very confused and we're still trying to deal with his amnesia. Once remembers where he wants to go, he is free to do so. (under his breath) And I'm not sure I would still want him here.

Liv: Since your partner also works here, does he live here too, then? And is he allowed outside?

Fell: Well, I certainly...! (upset) Are you insinuating I'm keeping them here against their will?

Liv: (visibly looks over to the four hoodlums, still gathered around the coffee table) I wouldn't dare.

Fell: Well. (huffs) Then I suggest you find another line of questioning.

Liv: Alright. I wanted to go over just one or two theories about this shop. If that's alright with you? (nervously looks towards the door)

Fell: Well, of course, if that can finally dissuade you and your friends that there is anything supernatural going on here.

Liv: Right. Okay. Because thanks to someone called u/the_real_scooby or ScoobyDoobyBlue on Yelp, a lot of people think you might be a vampire. No offense.

Fell: A vampire! Me?

Liv: (nervously) I, uh. Look, it's, uh, not my theory-

The doorbell announces new arrivals, so Liv and the camera turn to see Jim and Mr Crowley coming back into the shop. Liv's face visibly relaxes as she sees the two who, so far, seem fairly human and haven't cursed anyone in the shop yet.

Crowley: Why does Jim tell me to make three cups of cocoa?

Fell: Well, because we need three.

Crowley: Do I look like the maid?

Fell: No, but I could be persuaded to call you nanny-

Crowley: Oh and because I took care of one child, I can now serve your guests.

Fell: (pouting) Well, yours tastes best.

Crowley: (sarcastically) Must be the asbestos I put in. You serve your racketeers and vloggers yourself.

Fell: Oh it's not for them! (to Liv) Or would you like one?

Liv: Oh, no! No, no, no! I've read about faeries! I'm fine! I'll eat outside. I've already eaten!

Fell: Alright. (back to Mr Crowley) They're for Jim, Doreen and me. Please?

Crowley: Ugh. (He does his full-body-eyeroll again.) Fiiiiine. (He stalks off to the backroom with Jim.)

Fell: (back to Liv) Look at this.

Mr Fell walks to the front door, opens it and steps out into the daylight. When he turns back around to look at the camera, he has his hands solemnly folded in front of his stomach.

Fell: I don't think a vampire could do this.

Liv: I guess... you don't look like you sparkle.

Fell: Excuse me?

Liv: What about a variant of a vampire.

Fell: I drink cocoa. I will prove to you that I drink cocoa. I don't think blood would taste particularly well to me. Although I do enjoy a black pudding.

Liv: Okay, but- (hesitates, then takes a deep breath and continues) It does seem like you hypnotized all these people here and your partner to do whatever you tell them.

Mr Crowley and Jim come back into the main room, the latter carrying three cups of cocoa and putting one in front of Doreen on the coffee table.

Fell: Excuse me?!

Mr Crowley saunters over and comes to slant next to his “in-a-manner-of-speaking husband” like he's the leaning tower of Pisa. Liv takes a step to the side, so he is now in between Mr Fell and her, just in case.

Crowley: Why do you keep doing that? I'm not a... not a... street lamp, you moth!

Liv: (to Mr Fell) Well, prove it!

Crowley: Prove what?

Fell: Crowley, dear, would you mind fetching me the cards?

Crowley: What cards? Why?

Fell: I'd like to perform a magic trick for the Youtube.

Crowley: Oh no. (groans) No, you're not doing that. I'm not gonna let you do that. I'm also in the stupid video, standing next to you, and I will not be seen standing next to “Fell the Marvellous”. Ever. Again.

Fell: I told you to please go and fetch the cards!

Crowley: And I told you when I see a card in your hands again and you're not playing bridge like the old lady that you are at heart, I will incinerate it. And you look ridiculous with that mustache.

Fell: Will you stop dragging my mustache into this?

Crowley: Will you stop looking ridiculous with it?

Jim: Can I have a mustache? I'd love to look ridiculous!

Crowley: (mustering Jim) That ship has sailed long ago, ex-supreme Muppet.

Fell: Mustaches do not look ridiculous! Now do as I say, Crowley!

Crowley: Or what? You already forced me to be in a “documentary”, what threats could you possibly have left?

Fell: (to Liv) Are you convinced yet, or do I need to get him really going?

Crowley: Hey! What?

Liv: No, the bitchiness was pretty convincing.

Crowley: Oi!

Liv: I suppose the only other superpower, that ScoobyDoobyBlue claims you have, is talking to snakes.

Fell: Well, there are no snakes here with a vocabulary refined enough to hold a polite conversation, I'm afraid.

Mr Crowley gives him a look that is hard to decipher thanks to the sunglasses.

Liv: Okay, then... He also claims that you (she gestures at Mr Crowley) are his (gestures to Mr Fell) guardian angel.

Without missing a beat, Mr Crowley turns to Mr Fell, lifts up his sunglasses and looks him deep in the eyes. The store owner seems slightly surprised, but holds his gaze. He shifts closer. There's a second where his eyes shift downwards.

And then Mr Crowley flicks his nose.

Crowley: Not a guardian angel. Can do physical harm as much as I want.

Fell: (rubbing his nose) Really!

He seems unnecessarily put out over a simple flick. Mr Crowley looks at down at him with a besotted smile.

Liv: Well I guess... Not really definitive proof, but as good as I'm gonna get. It's really too bad that you don't have your pet snake anymore.

Mr Crowley's head whips around to Liv and he glares at her as much as the sunglasses let him.

Doreen: Dearie, I think that is enough cocoa for me after the visit to that nice, little café across the street. I would like to look around, if that's okay?

Liv: Sure, I'm coming! (She goes over with a shaking camera and offers Doreen her arm.) What would you like to see?

Doreen: Well there was this... where we hid, when the planes were coming. Down below.

Liv: Uh... Like, a bunk-

Fell: (hastily) There is no bunker here.

Mr Crowley furrows his brows and looks at Mr Fell in silence.

Fell (cont.): Actually, we don't even have an underground level.

Crowley: (whispers) She's been in there before, angel. Several times.

Fell: Maybe you're misremembering, Doreen, dear? I'm sure you've moved around a lot during the war. Perhaps it was at another shelter, where you went underground?

Mr Crowley opens his mouth again to say something, but the store owner cuts him off.

Fell: Would you excuse us for a minute? Crowley, a word?

They step away to the other side of the room and stand together very closely, while Mr Crowley leans into Mr Fell's space to hear. While he has his hands in his pockets, Mr Fell is dramatically wringing his.

The camera has trouble focusing on them, but Liv is evidently trying. There is a short shake when she tries to step closer, but is held back by Doreen's arm, still looped through hers. In a last attempt to catch whatever the two men are talking about, she is zooming in further.

It's hard to make out any words over the clinking of teacups on saucers and the chewing on scones that is going on at the table. Jim is slurping loudly. But every now and then, bits and pieces are almost intelligible.

Fell: … still down there … last time …

Crowley: … miracle away? … three months now …

Fell: … gotten around to it!

Mr Crowley scrunches up his nose in disbelief at something his boss is saying. The camera zooms in even further.

All of a sudden, a gigantic eye appears in front of the lens and Liv shrieks. The picture is all garbled and blurry, as the camera tumbles to the floor and lies there.

Voice: 'ello, 'ello, 'ello! What have we here?

Liv: Uh, sorry. You startled me. Dory, would you hold on a second?

The camera is picked up again and we are treated to more visual chaos, before it finally stills, returns back to a normal zoom factor and focuses on a person with a wide grin, wearing a sheer white police uniform.

Police person: Don't make me arrest you for recording a private conversation! It's not polite! They will surely tell you what they were talking about, afterwards.

Liv: I'm sorry, are you actual police?

Police person: (proudly wiggling their head) Yes, I am! My name is Inspector Constable and I am charged with observing this bookshop!

Liv: Only... I'm pretty sure there is no police uniform in the UK that is completely white.

Constable: Of course there is, silly! You're looking at it.

Liv: …The problem is, that I do not have enough knowledge about this country to 100% refute that.

Doreen: Do they hand out white uniforms now for especially good bobbies?

Constable: (visibly preening) Yes! I was constable of the month! Only my name isn't Bobby.

Doreen: That's nice, dear!

Liv: (under her breath) Okay, you're clearly no help. Hey, you! (Liv and the camera swivel around to the hoodlums.) I bet you know exactly what each police rank looks like.

Jerry the Head-Hoodlum: (looking annoyed with himself) I'm keeping out of this!

Liv: What? Why?

Larry the Hoodlum: Commenting on other people's clothes is kind of rude.

Constable: That's right! You see? I am a police person!

Liv: I hate this country.

Mr Crowley and Mr Fell join the conversation again.

Crowley: Yeah, sorry, cellar's closed. Hi, Inspector Constable. Find anything suspicious about love lives of coffee shop owners?

Liv: Wait, that's you?

Constable: I did! I asked after it, and apparently it's connected to something called a “ban on entering the premises”.

Jim: (shouting from the coffee table) Nice! We hand those out too!

Crowley: Ah. I'm sure if you keep up the good work, you will learn about even more bans. They're human collectibles.

Liv: (turning to Mr Crowley) Did you send a police-stripper after your neighbor to spy on her love life?

Crowley: Of course not.

Liv: Yeah, okay, that would've been really weird.

Crowley: I live in Mayfair and my neighbours are an old widow and an accountant who never had anything even resembling a love life.

Doreen: (pulling Liv to the back of the store) Can we go and see the old bomb shelter now?

Crowley: Er, that caved in after the war.

Fell: We never had any floors below this one!

Doreen: Don't be silly, it is right here!

She goes to a bookshelf and pulls out a fake spine like in an old detective novel. Nothing happens.

Fell: Like I said, there is no floor below this.

Jim: (barely audible from the coffee table) What about the old bomb shelter that you can only access if you pull the green and the blue book in the second row at the same time?

Doreen: Oh right!

Crowley: Why does he know this?

Doreen goes to pull on two books at the same time and the bookshelf starts spinning around ninety degrees, opening up a passageway with a stone corkscrew staircase leading downwards.

Crowley: Not even I know this!

Fell: (testily) Well maybe you should help cleaning more often, then.

Crowley: I offered you at least a dozen times-

Fell: (cutting him off) You know very well that I mean cleaning the human-

Crowley: (cutting him off in return) -itarian way. By paying people desperately looking for jobs. That's how that word was going to end, right, angel?

Liv: Can we focus on the fact that there is a secret passage in this shop?!

Constable: Oh, fun!! Er... I mean… I need to investigate what's down there!

Fell: It's just an old entry to the underground. But it's dangerous now. It has been labeled liable to collapse by the HSE.

Liv: That's okay, I'll sign a waver. Come on, Dory!

Together with Liv and Doreen, we are stepping into the staircase and start descending.

Fell: (from behind) Crowley! Do something!

Crowley: Well, Inspector, what we have here, is a classical case of trespassing.

Constable: But they're just going down the stairs. (it sounds like their voice is following us)

Fell: That is what trespassing is. Don't you want to arrest them?

Constable: No, that would mean I don't get to see the secret room!

Fell: But-

Crowley: Well, we tried. Come on, angel, this is gonna be interesting.

Judging by the consistent level of their voices, both of them are also following us downstairs now.

Fell: (whispering) This is your fault! I already took care of that other girl's reviews yesterday. Imagine where we'd be right now if I hadn't, and this young woman had read them!

Crowley: (under his breath, but clearly amused) Well, you said you'd take care of the cellar situation too, months ago!

Fell: (whispering) I would have gotten around to it eventually! It's your mess!

Constable: Could you speak up a bit? Sometimes, a word you say is difficult to understand.

Fell: This is a private conversation!

Liv: Yeah, no, the microphone definitely picked all of that up.

Fell: We were whispering!

Doreen: My dear, I could hear you perfectly fine and I forgot my hearing aid.

It has gotten gradually darker as we descend the stairs, so Liv finally turns on a flashlight on the camera. She pans it across a large room that has clearly once been built as a WWII shelter. But the spotlight catches on bulks and bulks of crochet-blankets, tartan cushions and off-white throw-pillows, all arranged in some kind of gigantic nest. And in the middle of it… Something so dark, it seems to swallow the light completely.

Liv: What the f-

Fell: (hissing) This is your fault.

Constable: Ooooh, what is this?

Crowley: (clearly not caring anymore if they are overheard) You said I should come in here instead of staying in the car-

Liv: God, why is it so warm in here?

Fell: I told you. It's an old tube station. They get rather warm.

Doreen: There used to be a light switch right- (dim, reddish lights come on) Ah! There is it.

Liv: Is that... a heat lamp?!

Constable: This is really cozy! Oh, I'd love to sit in the middle of that pile of blankets if it wasn't for the huge leather tube.

Liv: Wait. That's a heat lamp, and that's... that's...

She, and in extension we, step closer towards the big, black thing that is nuzzled into the blankets.

Liv (cont.): (unsettled) That is a snake's skin.

Doreen: That's nice, that didn't use to be here before.

Liv (cont.): (slightly hysterical) That is a 30 foot long snake's skin!

Constable: Oh, good job there's heat lamps here. Without its skin, the poor snake would probably be very cold.

Fell: Yes. So. Ahm. You see, the tube… Ah…

Crowley: (casually) Yupp. Sorry, forgot to clean this up. But someone told me to just leave it, because he wanted to take care of it.

Fell: (barely audible but very, very angry) Yes, well, don't pretend like you don't have that lock of hair you stole from me in the 11^th century!

Crowley: Ngk!

Liv: That is... th-that is, like, from a European Yamakachi, or...?!

Fell: I am so sorry, but we need to-

Crowley: (cutting him off) -we need you to sign some paperwork to not talk about this, or Heyday Films will be very cross when pictures of their old props surface on the internet.

Liv: What?

Crowley: This one's not out yet, so we're not allowed to say anything about it, other than that they paid us to provide the old bunker as a set.

Liv: This... (getting closer to the snakeskin, one hand reaching out to touch it) This is a movie prop?!

Crowley: Pretty good, huh? Unfortunately I heard the movie got scrapped before they even finished it, so it probably won't ever see the light of day.

Fell: Wh-what a pity!

Liv: It feels so real!

Crowley: Stop touching it!

Fell: The- … The film people wouldn't like it. Please, don't touch it.

Liv: I thought you said they didn't need it anymore and you were supposed to clean it up?

Fell: Well, nonetheless. It's not yours to touch.

Liv: Fine! (holding her free hand up) Sorry.

Doreen: Why did you change the lights?

Fell: I wanted... the actor – to be more comfortable. It was so terribly cold outside at the time. And… making… such a beautiful snake skin is quite the taxing job.

Liv: What movie was it?

Fell: Excuse me?

Liv: I love monster movies. I'd love to make a video about this project if it got scrapped and not many people know about it. Especially if it features the Yamakachi or whatever this was.

Fell: Er...

Crowley: It was called...

Fell: Big...

Crowley: Snake...

Fell: Darling.

Liv: A monster movie called “Big Snake Darling”?!

Constable: That sounds brilliant!

Crowley: Can we please go back up now? I'm getting a headache.

Doreen: It really is very hot down here.

Crowley: Yes, that's why I'm getting a headache.

Everybody marches back up the stairs in single-file; except Doreen who is being led by Mr Fell this time.

Fell: (over his shoulder) So I assume all the questions for your documentary have been answered now? It is quite a standard bookshop.

Constable: Oh yes, that's true. I mean, when you don't count that it's also an embassy.

Liv: An em-

Constable: And being led by an an-

Crowley: -anxiety ridden owner who is getting tired of this whole Youtube thing. Isn't that right, angel?

Fell: Ah. Yes, quite.

Liv: I only have two things left, if that's okay.

Fell: Well, if it's only two questions...

Liv: Okay. First... why did you send the world's most suspect private detective to spy on your neighbor?!

Constable: That's not nice! Mr Crowley and Aziraphale have taught me not to spy on people's privates.

Liv: People's what?

Crowley: She means you.

Constable: Oh!

They all file out of the staircase through the secret bookshelf-passage, but they stay standing around by the opening to finish the conversation.

Fell: Since you keep asking about this spying business, I suppose you have talked to Maggie, then?

Liv: Maggie? The woman who brought Doreen over? You sent them to spy on her too?!

Constable: Oh, Aziraphale didn't send me to spy on them! Actually, it was Michael who sent me to spy on- … (they catch themself) nobody! I mean, I don't know anyone called Michael! I'm a police inspector!

Crowley: Constable.

Constable: Inspector Constable. I observe, I don't spy! On nobody!

Liv: Uh. What? Who is Michael?

Fell: An old coworker of mine. (bitterly) We may not have parted on the best of terms, so now they would love to know what I am doing at any given time, in case I divulge any company secrets.

Liv: You? They were spying on you, too?

Constable: (disappointed) How did you know?

Crowley: (whispering to them) He doesn't know, don't worry. He's just suspecting, but he can't prove anything.

Constable: (relieved) Oh! Brilliant, thank you!

Fell: That's how that whole mess got started, yes.

Constable: And now I am observing whether Maggie from next door and Nina from across the street are actually in love!

Liv: Okay?? Why?!

Constable: To check if Aziraphale made them fall in love, silly!

Fell: Er...

Liv: Okay, can anyone explain this to me like I am a normal, non-British person who doesn't follow insane leaps of logic, please?

Crowley: Inspector, why don't I make you a nice hot cup of tea to look at in the backroom, while Aziraphale explains what's going on?

Constable: Oh, okay. But wouldn't it be helpful if I was here to explain anything that he doesn't know?

Crowley: Oh no, that would be against police code paragraph 13 subsection A5: A constable cannot divulge their business to unrelated documentarians.

Constable: Of course, I knew that.

Crowley: (He offers Doreen his arm.) Would you like to accompany us?

Doreen: Oh, thank you. (She takes his arm.) You remind me of a nice young man, back in the war, who used to play marbles with me down in the bunker during the air raids. He always offered me his arm.

Crowley: Oh, really?

He grins widely and walks off to the backroom with Doreen and the “police” person.

Liv: Why are you making them believe they're actually police?

Fell: Er, my old coworker... it's complicated. It's just easier this way.

Liv: Okay. Okay, fine.

Liv's voice breaks on the last word. It seems a bit like she is slowly losing her sanity.

Liv (cont.): But you have to tell me why you are setting up your neighbors with each other and why your old boss is somehow involved in this!

Fell: Coworker. Yes, well... I got terminated from my old employment for... extraordinary reasons, and-

Liv: What reasons?

Fell: They didn't like that I...

Mr Fell sighs. Then he turns around to look at the door Mr Crowley and his entourage are disappearing through, and waits until it closes behind them.

Fell: (somber) I fell in love with the wrong person.

Liv: Oh? ... Oh! Shit, I'm so sorry.

Fell: Yes, well. I'm not. (He turns back to Liv and recomposes himself.) There are a lot of things that I regret. He was never one of them. (He takes a deep breath.) So, as I was saying: I was let go from my former workplace. But, er... I had taken something from the office and when they came to interrogate me, I said it was to carry out my previous job to make Nina and Maggie fall in love.

Liv: Wh- that doesn- okay, let's start with: What the hell was that company where you needed to make people fall in love?

Fell: A romantic greeting card producer. “The hell” has nothing to do with it.

Liv: … (incredulous silence) And what did you steal from your office? A card?

Fell: Oh no, nothing like that. Don't be ridiculous.

Liv: It doesn't sound half as ridiculous as the rest-

Fell (cont.): It was Jim.

Liv: Sorry what?

Fell: What I kept from my old office. It was Jim.

Liv: You... “stole” your coworker-

Fell: Boss.

Liv: What?

Fell: Jim used to be my boss, until his recent spot of amnesia.

Liv: Jim- Jim fired you from your old job for being gay, so you “stole” your boss and left the greeting card company that “makes people fall in love” – your boss who then got amnesia and works for you in a bookstore – so those greeting card sellers hired a random person dressed in a Halloween police costume to go after you, and you got them off your back by telling them that you use your old boss to make your neighbors fall in love. Which they are cool with but need to verify?!

Fell: Er... yes. That sounds about as right as it's going to get.

Liv: I thought your family had this bookshop since 1800? Why were you working for a criminal dating app fronting as a greeting card company?!

Crowley: (coming back to slouch and grin) Worked two jobs at the same time, our diligent man of duty. Like you millennials do. Didn't you, angel?

Fell: Er... Right. For the money!

Liv: I thought a movie company paid you a bunch of money so they can use your basement as a snake breeder for a flick called “Big Snake Darling”!

Crowley: Don't say that name so derisively! They paid an advertising agency serious money for a title like that.

Fell: (insulted) Really! It was a safe room for a moult, not a breeding room. No need to be crass. Now, you said you had one last thing to ask after all that. How about we get to it sooner rather than later? Because as we have established over and over again, and you just confirmed in your apt summary: This is just a regular bookshop and all those theories you had about me hypnotising people, are utterly ridiculous.

Liv: Yeah okay. I have one last theory, that I'm sure you can debunk just as easy, then.

Fell: I'm listening?

Liv: You were closed, yesterday, so I had nothing better to do than to be on the internet all day. And suddenly there was this review on Yelp, with a new theory by a girl called TheTravellersJester.

Fell: O-oh?

Liv (cont.): Unfortunately, it was gone so fast that I couldn't even read it in time.

Fell: What a shame.

Liv (cont.): So what an awesome stroke of luck that someone tagged me in the comments and told me to screenshot it! Let me just pull the whole thing up on my phone real quick.

Mr Fell looks from Liv to Mr Crowley and back again while his facial expression morphs from horrified to pissed to dreadful.

Crowley: Oops?

Cut to black.

Voice over: Well, of course I kept the best for last! I guess you have to watch the next video in this series if you want to hear the most batshit theory... better be there, or the Leviathan will devour you!