We open to a shaky view of a London street. There are no pedestrians, no moving cars, no lights in the shop-windows (bar one) and no sign of life. As the camera angle gets steadier, we pan down the other direction of the same street. There is a whale. It seems oddly comfortable and someone has brought it a cup of cocoa that is standing on the ground in front of it, still steaming. It does appear that the whale’s lack of thumbs (or hands or arms) will make drinking the 10 ounces of liquid take more effort than it’s worth. But the whale looks pretty happy anyway (for a whale in the middle of a city that is not in Atlantis)!

Liv: (talking from behind the camera) So.

She takes a deep breath, as if that had been a complete sentence that warrants a break.

Liv: Welcome to the apocalypse. I-

Voice: I thought I’m your camera man, m’lady! Here, give me the phone!

Liv: I thought the end of the world is the worst thing that I will have to go through.

There’s some rustling and a lot of shaking. We briefly see two sets of feet on the ground while the camera is transferred from one person to another. When the view steadies, the owner of this channel, LiviaThan, comes into view.

Liv: I did not sign up for the end of the world in the company of a fedora-wearer. That’s worse.

Voice: Shows what you know about class and fashion.

Liv: (looking directly into the camera) We’re live-streaming from Soho, London. My name is Olivia Nathan-

Voice: And I am u/the_real_scooby a.k.a. ScoobyDoobyBlue, mod of r/bookshopcryptid! But you can call me Blue.

Liv: Do you always introduce yourself with your Reddit handle?

Blue: Only if I’m on the channel of someone with four million subscribers.

Liv: (giving a stink eye to someone above the viewer) Hopefully this will give you a good picture of what is going on in London. … To be honest, we’re mostly streaming this so that the other team can see how it’s going. But hey! If I gotta go out facing a bunch of angry, pockmarked people with amphibians on their heads, might as well earn that diamond playbutton while I’m at it, right? (She laughs. It sounds a little hysterical.) Mom, Dad, I hope you don’t see this.

She takes a deep breath and then turns away to walk slowly down the street. The camera follows her until a shop-window emitting an ominous, green glow comes into view. Above the window, the shop’s wide, spread-out sign reads: “Give me coffee or give me death”.

A woman steps out of a dark entrance next to Liv and gives a nod at the camera.

Woman: You recordin’ all this, lad?

She is slightly shorter than Liv, has her wavy, long, strawberry-blonde hair in a messy but intentional updo, and is wearing a comfortable looking off-the-shoulder sweater.

The camera shakes as someone behind it seems to use it to give her a salute.

Liv: I think everyone’s ready and in position, Ms Sandwich. Let’s get this over with before we become sane and change our minds.

Sandwich: Not gonna happen. (She sounds confident, and a little annoyed. As if all of this is just an inconvenience to her.)

Liv and the camera slip into the sheltered shop entrance that Ms Sandwich has just come out of. We see from here as the unafraid woman struts towards the shop with the green lights and enters. One of the glass panes over the front door is broken and in the eerie silence of a deserted London, we hear the click of the coffee shop door even here, down the street.

Through the hole in the front door, the voices of the people (?) inside the coffee shop are audible, too.

Sandwich: Mornin’ fellas. I had a real rough one so why don’t you make me a nice, hot, venti lactose-free double-cappuccino with decaf arabica beans and organic sugar, two shots of caramel syrup, one of crème brûlée, no cream but chocolate chips and one of your special little latte art swans on top?

A person with a clearly evil frog on their head laughs. Evilly of course.

Unhelpful Frog-Fan: We only serve death.

Sandwich: Yah, well, I’m the customer, and I prefer coffee.

Another man – younger than the first – who is wearing too much eyeliner and has his hair styled into two tall horns, steps forward.

Horn-Man: We’re here from Hell.

Sandwich: Yeah, tell me about it, kid. That’s why I need my caffeine. And make it extra fast, I don’t have all day.

Horn-Man: No, I mean- Wait, didn’t you say you wanted decaf?

Sandwich: Oh, don’t argue with me about my order, coffee-boy! If I want caffeine in my decaf, you better bloody give it to me. I’m paying for it, after all.

Horn-Man: I’m not a coffee-boy! I’m-

Sandwich: If you’re going to give me an earful about me not calling you a “barista”, you better put your money where your mouth is and give me my order.

Horn-Man: I don’t-

Sandwich: Oh, and I need it served at exactly 80 degrees. Otherwise I’ll either burn my mouth or it gets cold too fast.

The barista (?) looks around to his colleagues who were all standing around, watching the scene bug-eyed and transfixed. As soon as they realize their buddy is turning to them for help, everybody is suddenly very busy with their shoelaces, the broken light fixtures, and in one case with picking at the rash on their arm.

Horn-Man: I don’t know how to make a cappuccino.

Sandwich: (rolling her eyes) Of course I get the intern. Listen, if I don’t get to work in 10 minutes, my girls will be in a mood. You know what? I should get them something too. Make that order a 20! But three of those with almond milk, one of the almond-milk ones without the chocolate chips and with vanilla syrup and one with triple espresso instead of cappuccino.

Horn-Man: Wait, if you want almond milk in that one, then what did you want with the regular ones?

Sandwich: Do I have to spell everything out for you?! Oat-milk of course. Except five that should be with cow’s milk, but two of them still lactose-free. And one with… You have goat milk, right? You’d better.

Horn-Man: No, I don’t think we have that…

Sandwich: Then what do you have?

Horn-Man: Uuuuh, I think I saw some scrubbing milk in the back?

Sandwich: Your stock problems really are not the concerns of me and my girls. 7 minutes left until I gotta leave with my order. (She starts tapping her foot.) What’s your name, in case I need to report you to your manager?

Horn-Man: Uh. Eric. I-

He looks thoroughly cowed, throws one more look that is clearly pleading for help to the person with the frog-version of Willem Dafoe on their head. The person sneers at him.

Unhelpful Frog-Fan: What is a cap’o’China?

Eric: It’s some kind of bean-tea. I think it’s usually without all the syrup-stuff. That was a recent invention of- (He stops himself.)

Unhelpful Frog-Fan: Of who?

Eric: Someone on Earth! Someone who is definitely entirely human like everyone on Earth! I’m just gonna- uhh…

With a sudden sense of urgency, Eric starts rummaging around for paper cups and other utensils behind the counter. He tries to turn on one of the machines but it gives a hissing sound and lets off steam that looks a little like a poison-cloud in the sickly green lighting of the coffee shop.

In the end, Eric busies himself with a single-serving drip brew maker and a paper filter. He seems almost relieved, when he brandishes the brown-ish liquid it made for him. After adding some shots from dubious looking bottles that may or may not have once contained syrups (one of them looks like someone not only tried to drink directly from it, but has taken a chunk out of the bottle’s neck, too), he serves it to his lone customer.

Sandwich: Oi! Where’s my latte art?

Eric: Ahm…

Eric pours some milk onto the coffee-cup in what looks from afar like a shaky zig-zag pattern.

Sandwich: In what world is that a swan?

Eric: It’s supposed to be the Swan Of Torment from the fourth circle of Hell. See? Here’s its tusks and that’s its stomach-mouth! And this is a soul it’s chewing on.

Sandwich: Are you taking the piss out of me?

Eric: Isn’t that the point of coffee? After you drink it, I mean.

Sandwich: Alright, that’s enough! I have a busy enough schedule without you giving me shit!

Eric: I gave you cappuccino! It’s just the colour that looks like-

Sandwich: I want to speak to the bloody manager!

Eric: I don’t have-

Sandwich: Now!

A woman suddenly emerges from the suspicious, absolute darkness in the back. She has long, black hair and is wearing a tight red and black leather outfit that has a few too many spikes and would even give Mr. Crowley a run for his money in the cool-goth-department.

Woman: (with a booming, authoritative voice) What’s all this noise?!

Sandwich: Finally! Are you the manager?

Woman: No. I’m the boss. Shax.

Sandwich: Perfect. I want a word about your toerag of an intern!

Shax: I have enough of a headache from all these idiots! You will leave!

Sandwich: Oh, they’re giving me a migraine too, believe me! We can talk outside.

Shax: (with a hiss) Fine. Anything to get out of here for five minutes. It’s more crowded than downstairs!

Sandwich: And I have a lot of complaints to go through!

Shax: Annoy me and you’ll wish you had never set foot into our new headquarters!

They start walking out of the coffee shop.

Sandwich: The customer service of your intern leaves a lot to be desired, luv! I had to play twenty questions with him before he even touched the bloody coffee machine!

As they pass the camera and continue down the street, their voices are getting farther and farther away.

Shax: Uuuugh. That damned idiot never shuts up with his blasted questions and his “important information”!

A blonde woman with a high ponytail and a red hairband around her head comes out from behind the camera. She is clutching a big, turqoise toilet bag, takes a few hurried but quiet steps after the retreating Shax and Ms Sandwich, brandishes a cellphone and takes a photo of the two of them.

Sandwich: And I don’t think he’s ever seen a swan in his life. What he drew on my cappuccino looked a bit rude. Which I appreciate-

The rest of their conversation is completely inaudible.

Blonde woman: I only have one blurry picture of her face. I hope that’s enough.

A new voice from behind the camera: It’ll have to be.

Another voice: Oh goodness!

Two more woman emerge from where Liv and the camera are hiding: One with long, black braids and an older one with short, orange hair.

Liv: (speaking directly into the camera while indicating the two) Nina and Madame Tracy are off.

In the background, we see the two women run toward the coffee shop – the one Liv called Nina in the front, running light-footed and slightly crouched, as if she is trying not to be seen. When she reaches the coffee shop, she puts her back against the wall and sneakily peers into the window beside her.

Madame Tracy hurries after her – fully upright and hobbling a little as if she is not wearing the right shoes for a secret mission. She has her forearms folded upwards against her biceps instead of waving her arms beside her torso while running. When she reaches the hidden Nina, she stands beside her in plain sight.

Blonde woman: Oh! Oh dear. (stage-whispering) Nina! We haven’t done the… (She trails off as she realizes that Nina and Tracy can’t hear her.) I’ll better…

She puts the phone back into her pocket, keeps the oversized toilet bag pressed against her chest and runs after the two other women. When she reaches Madame Tracy, she gingerly leads her farther away from the shop windows, so they can’t be seen from the inside.

Liv: (whispering into the camera again) Maggie has the cosmetics. They haven’t-

In the background, the blonde woman – Maggie – fishes dark eyeshadow out of her big toilet bag, compares it to something on her phone that she’s looking at again, and then applies it to Madame Tracy’s face.

Liv: Okay, I think they’re almost ready to go through the backdoor. I hope Nina really knows the way…

Blue: (from behind the camera) It’s her shop. If she can’t show that grandma how to sneak in without being seen, then I guess they deserve being found out.

Liv glares at him.

At the coffee shop, the three women seem to have finished applying make-up to Madame Tracy’s face. They compare their work to something on Maggie’s phone, and then, after a satisfied nod, run into the small back-road that divides the building from the French restaurant next to it.

Blue: Do you think they’ll find some kind of disguise inside?

Liv: I sure hope so. These evil guys can’t be as stupid as Mr. Crowley said.

A few seconds tick by after Nina, Maggie and Madame Tracy have vanished from sight. Then, suddenly, there’s movement inside the coffee shop. Madame Tracy comes into the main room from the back. She is sporting very heavy eye-liner that is visible even from this distance, and what looks like three previously discarded leather belts that she must have found somewhere in the back.

Some of the unhealthy looking folks in the coffee shop turn to look at her.

Tracy: Ahmmmm… (She clears her throat.) Excuse me, dearies!

Liv: (putting her face in her hands) Oh no.

Blue: The plan barely started and it’s already failing…

Maggie’s voice: (stage-whispering so loud the camera can pick it up) Just act like when you pretend to be possessed by a ghost, remember?

Person with an unfortunate fish-eyes-condition, in the coffee shop: Who said that?

Tracy: Oh, yes, just let me… Mimimimi- (clearing her throat again) Yes. (in a slightly deeper voice) Yes. (She sounds commanding, all of a sudden. Well… more than before, at least.) Listen here, everyone! It’s me! Your leader!

Unhelpful Frog-Fan: We know who you are, Shax.

Eric: I didn’t. (laughing nervously) She looks so different, for some reason! And she went out that door, not-

He’s pointing at both the back of the coffee shop that Tracy stepped out of, and the front door that we watched Ms Sandwich and Shax leave through.

Unhelpful Frog-Fan: Can’t even recognise physical faces. Useless little-

Tracy: Oh, no, don’t chide the poor-

Nina: (clearing her throat loudly from somewhere in hiding)

Tracy: I mean: Silence! I have new orders for you!

Fish-eyed person: Did anyone else hear that?

Eric: New orders? Can we do a workshop first? I don’t even know half the words in the coffee-order I just made.

Tracy: No, my orders are: Gather your things, we’re marching on St. James Park!

There’s absolute silence for a second. Two seconds. Five.

Unhelpful Frog-Fan: Who is that?

Fish-eyed person: St. James... Didn’t we kill him one millennium ago? When did he marry someone called “Park”?

Tracy: It’s a place! A place in London! And we’re going over there now, on a nice walk! So go to the loo now if you have to; we’ll be out and about for quite a while!

Unhelpful Frog-Fan: You don’t sound like Shax…!

Maggie’s voice: (still loud enough to be heard even on a camera recording from far away) Tell them it’s a siege, not a ‘nice walk’!

Fish-eyed person: There’s definitely something there!

They take a step towards the back room that Madame Tracy has appeared out of.

Tracy: Oh dear me! Nonono, don’t come here!

Fish-eyed person: Ah-ha!

They pull Nina and Maggie out into the main room by the scruff of their necks.

Person with voluminous grey hair in a middle-part: Spies!

Fish-eyed person: (with a sneer as if they found a roach) Humans!

Maggie: Let us go, you putrid… person!

In the foreground where the camera is located, outside the coffee shop, we see Liv turning to ScoobyFedorabyBlue behind the camera. She looks a little weary.

Blue: I think the entire plan just went to shit.

Person with voluminous grey hair in a middle-part: Why are there humans with you, Shax?

Tracy: Ahm… Those are my…

Unhelpful Frog-Fan: (narrowing his eyes) I know those two.

Liv: Mr. Crowley, are you seeing this? You need to-

Unhelpful Frog-Fan: They’re are satanic nuns.

Fish-eyed person: (letting them go (or rather throwing them on the ground), disappointed) They work for us, Furfur, you idiot!

Person with voluminous grey hair in a middle-part, whose name is apparently Furfur: You were the one who-

Fish-eyed person: (to Maggie and Nina) You are from our satanic coven, are you?

Maggie: (audibly surprised) Y-yes? (after waiting for a reaction that isn’t coming) Yes!

Nina looks befuddled at Maggie, who just shrugs as discretely as is possible while everyone is staring at you.

Nina: Sure. Who even knows what’s going on at this point! We’re satanic nuns.

Liv: (whispering to herself) Why does she sound annoyed?

Blue: I’ve only known her for a few days but I think that’s just her usual voice.

Liv: (under her breath) When talking to you maybe.

Tracy: (turning to the remaining people in the coffee-shop who are have more sensible jobs than satanic nuns) So, now that that’s cleared up, off you pop! All of you! To St. James Park! Toodles!

Blue: Back on track with the plan. Looks like we don’t need goth-grandpa here after all.

Eric: (hemming and hawing) Only…

Tracy: Yes?

Eric: Only – you see – we don’t know where that is…

Furfur: Idiot! Shax will lead us! Like she always does. Won’t you, my sweet storky?

Tracy: Oh, goodness! Ahm… yyyyyyyes. Yes, let’s go! Everyone, follow me!

Liv: (under her breath) I sure hope this plan has a backup-plan where we get her out of this…

The door of the coffee shop is flung open and everyone inside (bar Nina and Maggie) waddles, shambles, limps or hobbles after Madame Tracy down the street. When she passes Liv and ScoobyNeckbeardBlue, she gives the camera a forced, desperate smile that looks like a cry for help.

Liv: (speaking into the camera) That’s a wrap on Operation Cuckoo!

Blue: You could also call it a fail.

Liv: (to Blue) Well, they are on the way… (With a sigh, she looks into the camera again.) …including Madame Tracy.

Liv suddenly flinches, presses a finger into her right ear and massages something in it. Something small and black seems to be plugging the inside of her ear. She pulls a mobile phone from her back-pocket and gives the screen a quick glance. It seems to already have been unlocked and some kind of soundless video is playing.

Liv: Who gave the old man the other phone? (There’s a beat of silence.) No, it is not my fault! I’m sorry your wife got abducted. Or abducted herself into leading an army. Blame literally any of the weird creatures in that coffee shop! Not me! (Another beat.) What the actual- I know you’re from a different time and your generation handles things a little differently but you did not just ask me about my boobs! (Pause.) Two! Okay? Like probably any other person here! And even if I had more or fewer, what would that even-

Blue: Shh! Shut up, shut up, shut up!

As Liv falls silent and looks around nervously, there are faint voices that she must have been talking over. They get steadily louder until, on the other side of the street, Ms Sandwich and Shax appear in view of the camera again.

Liv: Shit! (speaking urgently directly into the camera) Operation Stork-Trap is go! Now!

In the background, the two ladies are slowly making their way towards the coffee-shop.

Sandwich: And that’s how you motivate your subordinates. Might be they’re in a bad mood but if they’re serving us sub-par coffee, the whole street will be, too, luv!

Shax: You know, you can hold surprisingly productive conversations for a human.

Sandwich: Yeah, yeah, I get that all the time. “You’re superhuman” and all that. Really, just looking out for my girls and neighbours. Speaking of which, I have to go be a boss. Good luck with the intern!

Just as they arrive at the entrance of the shop, Ms Sandwich makes a hand-wavy motion in Shax’ direction, and changes route to continue her way further down the street. Meanwhile, the woman that bears astonishing resemblance to Madame Tracy (albeit with more tasteful eyeliner, which might be due to the fact that it wasn’t applied in the middle of the road while trying to break into a building full of demons) enters the now-empty coffee shop.

Liv: (still speaking into the camera while her eyes are glued to Shax) Did you not hear me? If the boss-lady goes after all those reptile-people, they will find out that Madame Tracy is not-

Before she can finish, two young men (or old boys) bolt out from the space behind the camera and into the street. One of them has a shock of short, brown locks on his head and is carrying a grocery bag, the other has longer, black hair and is subtlety trying trip his counterpart. They are followed by a lot less urgent woman with thick-rimmed glasses and a long, blue dress; as well as a nervous looking man with short-hair and rectangular glasses.

Liv: Was Mr. Pulsifer part of the plan?

Blue: Not that I remember.

Man: (pointing to the woman) Anathema told me to come along so I “feel like I accomplished something, too”.

Anathema: Newt is moral support for Adam and me.

One of the boys who have already run ahead, turns around and waves. This seems to annoy the other one because it interrupts him trying to trip this “Adam” up.

Adam: And don’t forget for Warlock, too! (He points at the other boy.)

Warlock: (almost hissing) I don’t need “moral support”! I am the Antichrist!

Adam: (good-humouredly) No, you’re not!

Newt: (ignoring them and picking up his conversation with his girlfriend) I don’t think moral support is “accomplishing something”. I’ll just wait here.

He stands next to Liv, just slightly out of frame.

Meanwhile, Shax has looked around the coffee shop. She has gone into the back, come back out, and is growing increasingly frustrated, if her body language is anything to go by.

Shax: (a lot louder than necessary) Where are all of you slackers?! (She suddenly stops when she sees Maggie and Nina behind the counter.) Humans! What are you doing here!

Maggie: We’re satanic nuns.

Nina: Yeah. We’ve been hired to look after the shop while the others are gone.

Hastily, Anathema pulls out a piece of chalk and begins drawing something on the ground, directly in front of the coffee-shop door.

Shax: What do you mean, gone?!

Adam takes candle after candle from his bag and puts them in a circle around Anathema’s art piece as Warlock produces a bottle of ketchup from god-knows-where and starts squirting red goop all over the place for some reason.

Shax: Every single one of them will be tried as a deserter in front of the Lowest Court! And you two! I will have you flayed-

She seems to notice the impromptu art-installation in front of the door, just as Adam and Warlock jump inside the elaborate chalk-circle that now includes a star and several occult-looking symbols.

Shax: Hey! What are you doing out there?

She opens the door. Warlock immediately start groaning in pain. Adam follows suit – louder – and convulses as if he is having a fit. Warlock forgets his apparent pain for second to glower at him, then he starts screaming in agony and throwing himself on the floor theatrically.

Shax: What are you pesky, little-

Anathema: (stretching her arms up, fingers fanned out, as if she’s Moses commanding the sea) I wouldn’t step over the threshold if I were you! This is a spell that has been passed down in my family for generations. It will rob the power of any occult being that steps into it and keep them imprisoned inside for as long as I want.

Liv: (whispering to Newt and Blue) Isn’t that just the devil’s trap from Supernatural?

Newt: Anathema said that real magic doesn’t work like that, so we had to lift the idea from a show we recently watched.

Adam: (still convulsing) Aaaah, it’s so hot!

Warlock: (louder) It burns!!

Adam: (forgetting to be in pain for a second) Yes, that’s what I said.

Warlock: My blood is boiling! My eyeballs are cooking! All of my entrails are bubbling over!

Adam: Ew.

Shax: Shut it! Do you think two breakable little humans scare me?

Anathema: Look again.

Shax: (scoffing) If you- (Suddenly, she sniffs Adam.) You! You’re the Antichrist!

Warlock: No, I’m the Antichrist!

Anathema: Well, we can all agree that one of them is the Antichrist.

Adam: She’s too powerful! (gesticulating towards Anathema)

Shax: You’re a witch!

Anathema: Witch and retired descendant.

Shax: Witches cannot stop me! The best you have is a horse shoe above a door!

Anathema: Are you sure about that?

Adam: Ooooh, the eyeballs! (He throws himself on the floor and rolls around like a dog.) And all the boiling end-tails.

Warlock: Entrails.

Adam: Them, too.

Warlock: I can’t believe they made you the Antichrist.

Adam: I don’t think they made me anything. I just am.

Shax puts one hand on her hip and draws her mouth to the side into an unimpressed sneer before she lifts both eyebrows at Anathema.

In the background, Nina hits her forehead with her hand and pulls it down her face. Maggie is looking anxious.

Anathema: Uh… The arguing is part of the demon-trap torment?

Liv: Oh-oh.

Shax: I think you don’t even have a horse shoe.

Nina: (shouting) Open the door!

She suddenly looks directly into the camera. Or… somewhere right next to the camera?

Shax: (whipping her head around to Nina) Don’t you dare give me orders!

Maggie: Nina, what are you doing? We need the camera team to stay hidden and communicate between us and Mr Crowley!

Nina: Not them! Him! (She points in the general direction of the viewer.) Witch-man! Open the door, now!

Shax: Who are you talking to?!

Maggie: Oh, you’re brilliant! (shouting as well) Newt! Get the door, quick!

The camera turns and shows a confused Newt standing next to Liv, pointing at his own chest.

Newt: M-me? Why should I go in there with-

Shax: There’s more of you vermin out there? I will crush you!

Anathema: Do it, Newt!

Newt books it! He sprints as fast as he can towards the coffee-shop, past Anathema, in between Adam and Warlock who are still half-heartedly writhing on the ground, and he grabs the door at the same time that Shax’ hand lands on the inner handle.

There are several mechanical “CLUNK”s that echo through the quiet night.

Shax and Newt seem frozen in place for a second, as if both of them are pulling the door at the same time instead of pushing and pulling respectively.

Newt: Uh… It’s not opening?

Anathema: Don’t look at me, I just trusted them. (She points at the women behind the counter of the coffee shop.)

Shax: What cheap witchery is this?

Nina: None at all.

Maggie: The electrical security system of this shop shuts everything down if it loses power.

Nina: Or if there’s any kind of failure.

Maggie: Locked us in here before.

Shax: You! You will both wish that you never set foot in the same room as me!

Maggie: Oh, there is absolutely nothing we can do to get out of here until power is restored.

Nina: For which, I think, you need us. We spent a lot of time trying to cheer Crowley up after Mr Fell ran away. He isn’t very talkative, but now and then he’ll make a sarcastic comment about something from his life.

Maggie: Right! You’re that horrible squatter he told us about, who occupied his flat, aren’t you?

Nina: A horrible and very much not Earth-tech-savvy squatter, if memory serves.

Shax starts glowing as if her anger turns her into a volcano about to erupt. She lets out a piercing scream and hits the glass door with her fist as hard as she can. It sizzles. But it holds.

Nina: I just had it reinforced after Mr Fell got robbed during the pandemic.

Shax: There!

She points to the transom window where the glass was already broken when the recording started; to the hole through which we can hear their voices.

Shax: My lackeys already broke it, I can break it again.

Nina: Only that wasn’t your lackeys. That was a whale falling from the sky. So unless you can make that happen again, I’m afraid you’re gonna need us alive.

Shax screams and hits the door again, but she doesn’t seem to expect it to do anything. She also doesn’t seem any calmer after doing it.

Maggie crosses her arms and grins the widest, smuggest grin at her that still fits on a human face.

Maggie: Payback for inviting you into the bookshop after the ball!

Blue: (behind the camera) I can’t believe it, but Operation whatever-stupid-name was a success.

Liv: Except two of us are now hostages of the angry lady.

Blue: Ugh, you can always choose to see every glass half-empty.

Liv: (into the camera) The… uh. The demons – I can’t believe I’m saying this. The demons are on the way to you. I’m heading over as fast as I can! I think they stalled the boss-lady even more than we thought.

Warlock: (shouting from over at the entrance to the coffee shop) All thanks to me!

Liv: Not one single thanks to him.

Warlock: I’ll come over too, Nanny!

Liv: (tapping her ear-piece) Mr Crowley says to keep to the plan. He needs as few people as possible with him.

Voice from somewhere behind the camera: That’s why I should come! I can replace at least two other people.

Liv: Mr. Brown, I know Mr. Crowley has been over this with you.

Mr. Brown’s voice: I could help you find Mr Fell! I’d be a vital part of the plan if it had been planned correctly!

Liv: Actually, I was there when Mr. Crowley told you no, when Nina told you no, Ms Sandwich told you no and Muriel told you no, which I’m not sure but I have to assume is a first in the entire history of Muriel’s existence.

Mr. Brown’s voice: But why wouldn’t you want the most useful-

Liv: (holding one finger against her ear-piece) Muriel says: “It was really fun! Tell him ‘no’ from me again!”

Mr. Brown: But-

Liv: Oh, they’re right! That is kinda fun.

She points at the person behind the camera.

Liv: You keep streaming! Keep us posted about the situation here and watch my stream to know how it’s going over there!

Blue: I still don’t understand why you get to go over there and not me.

Liv: Because I have experience documenting at least one angel and one demon!

She grins at the camera a little too wide and takes off running into the direction that Madame Tracy has led the army of unwashed coffee-shop squatters towards.

Liv: (her voice getting fainter as she gets farther and farther away) Mr. Crowley, I hope you really have a way of finding your angel. Get ready! Operation Magpie is a go!