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As they find themselves in the locked room, they start speaking all at once.
“Wow, it’s St James’s Park, look! Ducks!” Audrey shouts.
“What did he mean by “pay dearly for your mistakes”?” Iris wonders aloud.
“We should study the Book first, don’t you think?” Joseph suggests.
What they see around them is indeed an indoor version of St James’s Park. There is a fenced-off lawn with green grass and some scattered fallen leaves. There are two benches, an ice-cream stall between them and an artificial pond. There are two plasma screens on the opposing walls: one is showing a brass band playing with the Buckingham Palace in the background, the other (on the wall behind the pond) is a rustling autumnal wood. The wood continues in the room: there are some trees in the four corners. There is also a sign saying “don’t walk on the grass” and a signpost, but there is nothing on its two signs. There are indeed some artificial ducks on the plastic surface of the pond.
“Surely, we are supposed to feed them!” Audrey exclaims.
“What with?” Iris asks. “Left my Marmite sauce at home.”
“Once again, why don’t we find out what the Book has to say?” Joseph reminds them and the other two nod quickly. They sit on a bench and open the Book. Iris, who has been holding the bag, plonks it on the floor. There is a faint rattle.
“There is something in the bag,” she says.
“Look what it is,” says Audrey distractedly: she and Joseph are studying the Book. Well, this is what I am for, Iris inwardly sigh. Looking for some rattling clues, while others do the brain work.
As Joseph and Audrey open the book they see Prophesies printed in an archaic script on the left and handwritten notes on the right.
“Okay, this is clear,” Joseph says. “We need to figure out the prophesies, but if we’re stuck, the notes will shed some light. Hopefully.”
“Oh, I just want to read all of it. This is so cute!” Audrey whines, but she is already taking in the first prophesy. It says:
- When the ende draweth nigh,
and the demonne be lost, principality carryd away,
I tell thee, come to the water in Queen’s woode
and feedest thou all the Duckes.
“What did I tell ya?” Audrey screams happily. “Let’s feed the buggers!”
“Okay,” says Joseph. “What with? Ice-cream, perhaps?”
“Probably with this duck food,” says Iris as she fishes a rattling packet out of the bag. There is a picture of a yellow duck on it. “Shouldn’t be hard, I guess.”
At this moment the ducks on the pond start moving. Their trajectories seem to be random: they look a bit like dodgem cars, because they sometimes bump into one another. The significant difference is that the ducks are opening and closing their beaks. The “don’t walk on the grass” sign lights up and the brass band from the screen strikes up a lively tune.
“Shouldn’t be hard at all,” Joseph smirks and opens the packet.
The packet contains a dozen of plastic pellets that are probably meant to symbolise bread crumbs. Black and purple nails flash as Audrey grabs one and throws it, aiming for one of the ducks. She misses by a long shot.
“Right, wait, soldier,” Joseph commands. “Let’s appraise our ammunition first.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Audrey replies.
They count the pellets: there are 12 (but one of them has been wasted already). They count the ducks: there are 8 of them, doing their dance of chaos.
“All right, soldiers. Regroup!” Joseph yells. “Let’s establish quickly who among us has the best aim.”
With that he steps away from the girls and holds his hand together to imitate a duck’s beak. He closes and opens the “beak” at the same intervals as the ducks on the pond. The girls take turns to throw pellets and it becomes clear that Iris is far better at it than Audrey. Audrey takes Joseph’s place and makes the duck’s mouth with her hands. Iris beats Joseph, too. She feels strangely elated: well, brains are great, but nimble hands can also save the world. She faces the ducks.
Iris’s aim is indeed excellent. She feeds duck after duck: each fed one closes its beak shut and stops moving. As she has two pellets and one moving duck left, Audrey cries out.
“Wait! It says here on the right: Feeding ALL the ducks might be important. You never know how many they will be. You’d better not miss that shot and keep the last pellet, just in case!”
“Why did you have to tell me this?” Iris moans, her confidence evaporating.
“Oh, sorry, Iris, I am an idiot.”
“All right, soldiers, no time for that. Shoot!”
Iris takes a deep breath and sings to herself softly “I should feel so lucky, lucky-lucky-lucky”. If the music from the book doesn’t help her, what will? She waits till the last duck turns her way and opens its mouth. Shoot! The duck shuts up and there is a distinct ding noise somewhere nearby.
“Hurray!” shouts Audrey.
“Here is your extra duck food for some mysterious hidden duck,” says Iris. She is glowing with pride. Audrey stashes away the pellet in the bag.
“Well done… Sergeant Angel Cake!” exclaims Joseph. “Now, what made that ding noise?”
As they look around, they soon discover that one of the signs on the post has lit up. It says “SOHO”. Aziraphale’s bookshop, they all think so loudly there is no need to voice it. The only problem is that the sign points at one of the tree-covered room corners.
“What does the book say?” Iris asks.
“Yes, read it for us, Sergeant Tattoo!” Joseph commands. He is really enjoying this.
Audrey reads the next prophesy.
4017 Thou treadest towards the darkness,
Get thee some light to shine upon thy roade,
That hath hid behinde the boughs.
“All right, so we definitely need to get behind the tree, but we also need some sort of light first?” Iris ventures. “Are there any lampposts here?”
They look around: no lampposts. No visible places to hide anything. They briefly consider pulling the “don’t walk on the grass” sign out, but it looks bulky and unfriendly.
That leaves the only logical option, the ice-cream stall. Joseph comes over to inspect it.
“Hey, it actually opens here. Wow, there are ice-creams! Lots of them.”
“What, real ones?” Iris and Audrey get closer to have a look.
“Nah. Plastic. So they could be our torches – let’s see which one it may be.”
“Aw, here is a strawberry lolly! It must be it!” Audrey yells. “And here is a vanilla with a flake!”
They fidget with the ice-creams, but nothing happens.
“Perhaps they are activated by voice or something,” Audrey suggests. “Let there be light!”
The lolly and the cone are not cooperating.
“Well, it was worth a try,” Audrey shrugs.
Meanwhile Iris is still rummaging in the ice-cream stall. She pulls out a brown cone.
“Look. This one says “Choco Lite,” she remarks and then hesitantly addresses the cone: “Let there be light?”
And it lights up.
“Fantastic, Sergeant Angel Cake!”
“Yes, Captain, Sir! Er… should we call you Captain Something or Other?”
Joseph pauses for a moment then says, “Call me Captain Dragon, soldiers!”
“Aye, aye, Captain Dragon!”
“We are the Angel Finding Army!”
“And demon!” Sergeant Tattoo exclaims.
“Good point, Sergeant, we are Angel and Demon Finding Army.”
Then there is a weird noise, and a female voice says:
“You have 49 minutes left, Angel and Demon Finding Army.”
“Oh my God,” says Sergeant Angel Cake.
“Yep, it was Her all right,” says Captain Dragon. “Let’s move, soldiers!”
As they carry the shining Choco Lite to the tree in the corner, the boughs move, the ivy on the walls crawls out of the way and they see a door. They open it, step through and find themselves in a dark passageway.
*
They soon reach the entrance into what definitely looks like Aziraphale’s Bookshop, complete with two white columns framing the entrance. It is dark inside, but as they stare through the windows they make out the outlines of book piles. Then they notice faint flickers of light, some reddish fireflies shimmering among the books. In the light of the Choco torch they see the “Closed” sign. Captain Dragon tries to open door only to discover it is locked.
“Right,” he says. “The Choco Lite was given to us for a reason. Let’s see what we can find around here.”
They start searching on the floor and along the walls and soon Sergeant Angel Cake holds up a pin in her hand. A Witchfinder Army pin.
“Another Army has been here before us!” Captain Dragon says sternly.
“Oh no!” Sergeant Tattoo exclaims. “The lights inside! It’s a fire! We need to stop it!”
“Sergeant Angel Cake, see if you can pick the lock with this pin,” Captain commands. She tries that and discovers that she most certainly can pick locks. In a second they all get in.
Immediately the red fireflies get thicker around them. Captain Dragon promptly finds a switch on the wall and the bookshop is flooded with electric light. He keeps issuing commands.
“Sergeant Angel Cake! Find something we can use to stop the fire! Sergeant Tattoo, read the Book to find clues!”
“Do you think angels keep fire-extinguishers in their shops?” Sergeant Angel Cake screams in panic, as fireflies are swirling around.
“Sensible ones do!”
“Yes, you are actually right,” says Sergeant Tattoo. “The next prophesy says the Red Chalice of Fire-Devouring Foam is kept where her own book should be! If I got it right…”
“Her own book should be?” Sergeant Angel Cake says, frantically trying to think.
“Her book! Agnes Nutter’s book, that is. It never sold! But if it had, it should have been among other books of prophesies – Nostradamus, Mother Shipton, those guys!”
“Find Nostradamus, soldiers!”
They run around rows and piles of books, shouting to each other things like “Oscar Wilde” or “Religious books” or “Oh my God, pornography!” until Sergeant Tattoo screams “Here is the bloody Nostradamus” and they manage to shift the panel and locate the desired Chalice. As Captain Dragon starts operating it, no foam comes out, but there is a very realistic sound of hissing. The fireflies are gone in a jiffy.
“Phew,” says Captain Dragon, lowering the fire-extinguisher. “Sergeant Tattoo, there is some pornography here? Really?”
“Nah,” she grins, “Just books on cooking and domestic stuff.”
And they all laugh, relaxing a bit after the intense moment with the fire. Then they notice the Circle.
The Circle is on the floor behind one of the book stacks. They have been running about without glancing down and so they have missed it. But it is right there, drawn on the floor, as white and sophisticated as anything.
“Oh,” Sergeant Angel Cake sighs, “So Aziraphale has been discorporated.”
“Obviously,” says Captain Dragon. “Henceforth, the fire. I wonder where he is now.”
“Do you think the Circle is still activated, Captain?” asks Sergeant Tattoo.
“Doubt it, Sergeant. It’s not glowing and surely we have run across it several times already.”
“I think we should really read several prophesies ahead, Captain,” Sergeant Angel Cake chips in. “I can do without another panic attack.”
“Good point! Will you do the honours, Sergeant Tattoo?”
“Right, here we go. I mean, fellow soldiers, lend me your ears.”
She reads 4019, which goes like this:
Afore thou seekest the Principalitee
Obtain three gifts to bear with thee
For thou shall require them
To contain his spirit.
“So we need to get three objects from here? Good thing they gave us a bag!” Sergeant Angel Cake comments, but Captain Dragon shushes her and tells Sergeant Tattoo to keep reading. Prophesy 4020 goes like this:
The gifts thou shall bear
Be the reek of a holy place,
The light of a prayer
And the righteous scripture.
“Excellent!” says Captain. “Can’t be too hard. But just in case, read one more, Sergeant!”
Prophesy 4021 runs thusly:
Get thee on the same way
That the Principalitee hath gone by ringing
The number of the beast.
“It can’t be that easy!” she adds, as she finishes the third prophesy.
“Well, there is only one way to find out!”
They locate a small thurible with what smells like frankincense easily and stack it in the bag. There are about half a dozen of candles on a shelf, but most of them are fancy and coloured ones, so they grab the only one that seems suitable: it is pristine white. Captain Dragon also suggests they might need a matchbox for lighting the thurible and the candle, so they find one, too. There is an old-fashioned telephone on the same shelf as the matchbox, so they try dialling 666, but then remember about Tadfield extension code and find Directory Inquiries, which provides them with what they need.
“How will those who haven’t watched the show figure out what to do?” Sergeant Angel Cake wonders out loud, before dialling.
“There are these notes on the right, remember? Here, look, Tadfield in a note on the right, plain as day. There is even this note explaining that Principality means a kind of an angel.” Sergeant Tattoo smirks. “Whoever needs this explanation doesn’t belong in this escape room! Oh…”
“What is it, Sergeant?”
“I’ve accidentally read the help clue about “the righteous scripture”. And it’s not exactly what I thought it was.”
“Not the Bible?!”
“It is the Bible, but… do you want me to tell you or do you want to figure it out?” “Hmm, let’s call Tadfield first and then decide!” Captain Dragon says.
Sergeant Angel Cake dials the number and they all lean in to listen. The answer is not quite what they expect.
“God’s covenant will light your way to heaven,” says a gentle voice, genderless and mysterious. Then there is an engaged tone.
“Not exactly the Antichrist’s Dad,” Sergeant Tattoo whispers.
“Indeed,” says Captain Dragon. “But what does it mean? Ideas?”
“Well, the way to heaven is where Aziraphale has gone, obviously, – seems like we’re going there too!”
“So, we need to activate the Circle then. Did he use the candles in the show?”
“He did! Eight of them, I am sure of it! How many have we got?”
They rush back to the candles and count them. There are seven.
“Right, get out that candle out of the bag, Sergeant!”
Sergeant Angel Cake pulls out the candle and the matchbox and they carry all eight to the circle. There is a square inside the circle so they place four of the candles in each corner and the other four on the Circle itself at equal intervals. They light the candles. Nothing happens.
“Okay, maybe we need to light them in a particular order?” suggests Sergeant Angel Cake.
“Gods, wait!” shouts Sergeant Tattoo! “The Bible! We need to sort it out first.”
“Right, soldiers, why don’t we blow out the candles for now – we don’t want another fire – and then Sergeant Tattoo will tell us the Bible Secret”.
As they blow out the candles, Sergeant Tattoo explains that “the righteous” here means “containing no misprints”.
“Gosh, we can spend hours reading them! How many are there, anyway?”
They rush to the Religious Books section and discover three books marked as “Holy Scripture”.
“Not as bad as I feared. They are quite thin, too. Grab one each, soldiers, and start reading!”
In Sergeant Angel Cake’s Scripture there is a story about God asking the Angel of the Eastern Gate “Where is the flaming sword which was given unto thee” and the Angel replying “I had it here only a moment ago, I must have put it down some where, forget my own head next.” The story is on the very first page.
“Definitely not this one,” she says with a smile.
In the book that Sergeant Tattoo is reading there is a Lord’s Prayer in Latin, but it stars not with “Pater Noster”, but with “Mater Nostra”, so she discards it, too.
“It must be yours, Cap,” she says, “what’s in it?”
Captain Dragon is still skimming his book with a frown.
“It’s The Book of Revelation, the verses about the Four Riders,” he says. “I see no misprints so far but I can’t say I know the original that well!”
“Well, it’s definitely it! They quote The Book of Revelation, like, the whole time. The Four Riders, the Armageddon, the Antichrist, all that jazz. Let’s put in the bag and return to the Circle!”
They do so and they argue for a while in which order to light the candles. Then they realise they have forgotten the message from Tadfield, so they dial the number and listen to it again. Suddenly, the message is a bit longer this time.
“God’s covenant will light your way to heaven,” says the same gentle voice, and then adds, “If you place it on the crosses.”
“God’s covenant! What is that exactly? And what crosses?!”
They look at the circle again and notice there are crosses on it. Seven of them.
“It’s the rainbow!!” Sergeant Angel Cake almost screams because she is panicking again. “God’s covenant after the Great Flood! And these candles are all different colours!”
I can think, after all, Sergeant Angel Cake realises. I wish I could also stop panicking.
They quickly place the candles on the crosses. They are indeed the seven colours of the rainbow – the plain white one is the odd one out, after all. Sergeant Angel Cake returns it to the bag. Captain’s hands are a bit shaky as he lights them.
“Don’t you start worrying, Captain,” says Sergeant Angel Cake. “We need your calmness more than ever.”
As the last one is lit, a celestial tune starts playing and a round opening appears in the ceiling right above the Circle. Bright light floods in through the gap and then a ladder descends. They have found a stairwell to Heaven.
“I’ll go last,” mutters Sergeant Angel Cake. “I am wearing a dress and…”
She is cut off by the same female voice that they heard what seems now like hours ago.
“You have 36 minutes left.”
“Fuck!” shouts Sergeant Tattoo then. “You climb – I’ll catch up! Never mind your dress, Angel Cake! Start climbing – no time to lose!”
She dashes back to the books and grabs the Mater Nostra scripture. Since Captain is already up in Heaven with the bag, she climbs up, holding the book between her chin and chest. Only then she realises the celestial tune is actually The Sound of Music main theme played by what sounds like a harp. She smiles and gets into the new room with her friends’ help. A trapdoor slips back into place and the opening in what now is the floor is completely gone.
*
The room is almost entirely white. There are some streaks of blue on the floor – four criss-crossing lines, forming a sort of a diamond shape. There are also five white plinths – one in the centre of the diamond and four standing in the four corners of an imaginary square. There are pilasters on the walls and a small board on the central plinth. There is no Aziraphale in the room.
“Lovely,” says Sergeant Angel Cake. “What next? The Book?”
“We’ve got three books now,” replies Sergeant Tattoo. “But yeah, let’s read Agnes’s first.”
“So, what was that last minute escapade, Sergeant Tattoo?”
“I heard the voice of God and thought – She is female, so Mater Nostra is not a misprint! It’s as it should be! So here we are.”
Captain Dragon gets The Book of Revelation out of the bag and peers into it once again. Then he hits himself on the forehead.
“Idiot,” he exclaims, “Here it is – a white horse, a red one, a black one and a pale one called Binky. How did I miss that?!”
They don’t have much time to giggle about Binky, because Sergeant Tattoo announces Prophesy 4022.”
“Thou shall listen to the Sound of Music.”
“That is it?!”
“I am afraid so. Shall we look on the right?”
But the celestial tune changes then – instead of the main theme Climb Every Mountain starts playing, not a harp version this time, but a proper number from the musical.
“Gosh… imagine listening to this for eternity,” mutters Captain Dragon.
The tune suddenly goes into a loop: the lines “climb every mountain and ford every steam” are repeated over and over again.
“Just when you think it can’t get any worse…”
“That is our clue, though!” Sergeant Angel Cake exclaims. “These are the mountains and the streams, aren’t they?”
She points to the five plinths and the blue lines on the floor. The music stops.
“Thank God,” Captain Dragon says, and then they hear the female voice saying “You’re welcome.”
“This is a bit… weird,” Sergeant Tattoo says. “But let’s climb the mountains and ford the bloody streams. How do we do that?”
“This must be the how,” says Captain Dragon pointing to the board on the central plinth.
“Isn’t it… that thing Aziraphale was doing in the Roman episode? A board, some stones? Is it some kind of a board game?” Sergeant Angle Cake asks.
“There are Roman numerals here. Yeah, definitely a board game.”
“And a guide for us how to climb and ford!” Sergeant Tattoo gets very excited. “There are five stones! The numerals show in which order to climb and ford! Can I do it? Please?”
“Snap to it, Sergeant!”
“Yes, better you than me.” Sergeant Angel Cake sighs. “What on earth possessed me to wear a dress?”
Sergeant Tattoo does the climbing and the fording following the Captain’s directions. As she steps on the central plinth (the last in the sequence), there is celestial music again – a harp rendition of My Favourite Things and then a bowtie descends from above and falls right into Sergeant Tattoo’s trembling hands.
“I don’t believe it,” she says and then almost falls off as the bowtie replies.
“Charmed to meet you, dear. All of you. I am so grateful that you have come to my rescue.”
Captain Dragon helps Sergeant Tattoo to get down and they all close in and stare at the bowtie. They can see there is a tiny speaker in it. It starts talking again.
“The thing is… I’ve been so inconveniently discorporated, you see. If one of you would be so kind to host me, that would be most helpful. Are any of you receptive, in a spiritual sense?”
Sergeant Tattoo stretches her hands out to Sergeant Angel Cake.
“It has to be you, hun,” she says. “You are wearing a dress, after all. That’s the spiritual bit. And you are Sergeant Angel Cake!”
Sergeant Angel Cake swallows hard.
“I would be honoured to host you… sir?” she mutters.
“Ah, how wonderful! So much obliged! Could you be so kind as to achieve the state of grace?”
“How do I do that?” Sergeant Angel Cake says so quietly she can hardly hear herself.
“Hey! We’ve got the reek, the light and the holy book, don’t we? To contain the principality as prophesied!” Captain Dragon reminds her. “Get ready for achieving the state of grace, Sergeant!”
“Precisely,” the bowtie adds. “And you’d better wiggle on. Demon to find. World to save.”
They light the chaste candle and the frankincense in the thurible. While the aroma fills the hall of heaven, Sergeant Angel Cake reads the Mater Nostra prayer from the righteous scripture. Sergeant Tattoo sneezes and mutters she must be a bit allergic to heavenly grace.
Then there is silence again and the Angel says, “Well, you can put on the bowtie now, dear.”
And she does. She feels a bit ethereal and silly at the same time.
“Now we know what possessed you to wear this dress, eh?” says Captain Dragon. “Any idea how we can get back, Aziraphale?”
“There must be this globe here somewhere,” replies the bowtie which is now decorating Sergeant Angel Cake’s neck. Music starts playing again. Captain Dragon groans.
“I know,” says Aziraphale with compassion. “But let’s find the Globe. Not time to lollygag.”
The tune is now Edelweiss. Again it’s a song, not just a melody. They all listen to the lyrics attentively this time.
Edelweiss, edelweiss
Every morning you greet me
Small and white
Clean and bright
You look happy to meet me.
“I suppose we’d better find an edelweiss somewhere here,” whispers the possessed Sergeant.
“What a wonderful idea,” the bowtie agrees happily.
“Pilasters!” cries Sergeant Tattoo.
There are about a dozen of them – all with different flower patterns on their capitals.
“What does the bloody edelweiss even look like?” shouts Sergeant Tattoo. “Well, this one I know, it’s a rose, so it’s not that. And this one is more like a… sunflower?”
“This one!” Captain Dragon calls out. “What do we do now?”
Edelweiss, edelweiss
Every morning you greet me…
“Greet it, I guess?” Sergeant Tattoo suggests, then she is there in front of the edelweiss capital and she does it herself, “Hello there, edelweiss. Guten Tag!”
“They say “Grüß Gott” in Austria, dear,” remarks the bowtie.
“Okay, Grüß Gott, then.”
The music stops, and two panels in the pilaster slide apart, revealing the globe. It moves out of its hiding place on a white pedestal. They all cheer and Aziraphale says “Tickety-boo!”
“Let’s get out of here before they sing another Sound of Music number!” Captain Dragon says with a feeling. “I’ll just press London, shall I?”
“Wait – why don’t we consult the book first?” says Sergeant Tattoo.
“Go on then, Sergeant,” says the Captain, but he presses London anyway. Another trapdoor slides open. “Well, it was worth a try – as you see.”
“We will pay dearly for our mistakes, remember?” Sergeant Angel Cake reminds him.
“I can’t wait!” says Captain Dragon with a grin and climbs down into what they soon discover to be a familiar place: St James’s park.
“Ah, lovely,” says Aziraphale, and Sergeant Angel Cake blushes.
“You have 28 minutes left”, announced the voice of God from high above.
*
The Park is exactly how they left it, with one difference only. The other sign on the signpost now says “MAYFAIR” in red neon.
“We must have done something right,” says Sergeant Tattoo.
“Just don’t sing about it, Sergeant,” growls Captain Dragon.
The sign points to another corner, also obscured by trees.
“Since this leads to Crowley’s flat, should we just shout at these plants to get out of the way?” suggests Sergeant Tattoo excitedly.
“Oh no, dear, Crowley would never shout at some stranger plants,” says the bowtie, aghast.
“Right,” says Captain Dragon. “Where is the Choco?”
Sergeant Angel Cake gets it out of the bag. It doesn’t shine anymore.
“Let there be light?” she asks it. The cone lights up immediately.
“Brilliant!” exclaims the bowtie.
Just as before, the plants clear off and a door presents itself. They go through and find themselves in another dark passage. In the cheerful light of the Choco cone they soon observe three identical doors.
“The Book, Sergeant!”
“Right… Number 4023 says we have to find a door that bears the symbol of the foul fiend and knock the rhythm that will rock thee.”
“The symbol of the foul fiend, right. Let’s find it, soldiers!”
All three doors, when properly examined, turn out to feature some sort of symbol on them: on the left one these is a double cross with the sign of infinity attached to it, on the middle door there is a cross, a sword and a tree, and on the right one there is a…
“Odegra! It must be it!” cries Sergeant Tattoo. “The M25 sign!”
“Wait, isn’t it a bit too obvious?” says Captain Dragon. “Shall we check with the book – on the right?”
“Well, the middle one has a plant on it,” Sergeant Angel Cake muses aloud.
“Crowley does love plants,” the bowtie concurs.
“Oh, the rhythm that will rock thee – Queen? We will rock you?!” Sergeant Tattoo exclaims and starts clapping the rhythm. “It must be it!”
“Well, if you’re sure, Sergeant, do the knocking,” says the Captain.
Sergeant Tattoo faces the middle door and knocks twice with a fist and the third time loader with the open palm. The door swings open so violently that Sergeant Tattoo only barely manages to dash aside and avoid being hit. Three guys in red cloaks spill out of the room, as dramatic music almost deafens them, and Aziraphale makes a noise of distress. One of the guys is the young man who gave them the briefing.
“You will pay for your mistakes!” shouts the most evil-looking bloke of the trio.
“You never expect the Spanish Inquisition,” says the Angel and Demon Finding Army, almost in unison.
Several minutes of severe torture ensue, and the Army can hardly breathe or indeed stand upright from laughter, as they are dragged into the torture chamber and prodded with soft cushions. They are soon released, however, with a promise of more horrors if they commit another mistake. They are in front of the three doors again, panting and brushing tears from their eyes.
“I told you,” says Sergeant Tattoo when she is able to speak again. “The odegra sigil!”
“Knock, Sergeant,” replies Captain Dragon, who is still a mess. And she does.
The door opens and they get into what is definitely Crowley’s apartment. The walls are black, the furniture is minimalistic, with the exception of a pompous desk and a throne-like chair next to it. There is a Mona Lisa sketch on the wall. There are also numerous plants, luxurious and verdant.
“Can we shout at them now?” Sergeant Tattoo pleads.
The Captain, still not quite himself after the torture, can only nod. Sergeant Angel Cake instinctively steps back and puts her hands protectively over her bowtie.
“YOU DISAPPOINTED ME!!!” Sergeant Tattoo yells. “GROW BETTER!!!”
As an afterthought she adds: “GRÜß GOTT, SUCKERS!!”
“Well, that would put the fear of God into them and no mistake,” the bowtie comments, as the plants start trembling. Then several pots move to different sides, while long green creepers crawl, snakelike, to clear a space on the floor. There is a trapdoor there. They check it and discover it is locked.
“You know, yelling at plants comes up three prophesies later, actually,” says Sergeant Angel Cake who has remembered about the Book and has been reading it while the other two investigate the trapdoor. “What we should focus on right now is the answerphone, if I deciphered Agnes’s meaning correctly.”
There is an antique answerphone on the desk and the Captain is there in a second. He presses the button.
“You know what to do. Do it with style,” a recorded voice says, and the bowtie produces a sort of stifled cry of joy. But this is not the end of the message. There is more. “Do ducks have ears?”
They expected this no more than the Spanish Inquisition.
“Did those ducks in the park have ears?” Sergeant Tattoo brainstorms urgently, “Should we go back and look? Are there any ducks around here? Let’s look for ducks! Or maybe for ears!”
“Calm down, Sergeant,” commands Captain Dragon. “The Book!”
“We are on it,” says Sergeant Angel Cake, and the bowtie adds, “We are indeed.” “We’ll need a plant mister…”
“Of course!”
“…to open the door, somehow, while the message on the answerphone is the code to some secret place. I think. Would you like to look at the prophesies yourselves?”
“No time, we’ll have to trust you and your… passenger’s judgment,” says Captain Dragon.
“Jolly good,” exclaims the bowtie.
Sergeant Tattoo spots the green plant mister among the plants and extracts in from the leaves. All the plants are artificial, she notices, but very realistic. There is even a small bonsai tree with red berries. It looks almost too cute for Crowley’s flat. It triggers something in Sergeant Tattoo’s mind but she forces herself to forget about it for now.
“Got it!” she shouts. “It’s empty, though!”
Captain Dragon meanwhile explores the Mona Lisa and, as might be expected, there is a safe behind it. The Captain discovers that it requires a four-digit code.
“We really need to sort out the ducks, soldiers,” he says sternly. “Any ideas? Sergeant Angel Cake, read the clue on the right! We are running out of time!”
“The prophesy itself is about the last words of the foul fiend – that would be the duck ears question. On the right there is a note that, I quote, “one should count what can be counted.” What is that about?”
“Count the ducks? How many were there? Eight, right? So, let’s try eight, then, if they have ears, that would be 16? Eight, one, six, and we need one more digit!!”
“Just try them all for the last one, Captain!” suggests Sergeant Tattoo.
“That’s cheating!”
But he does it anyway. Nothing happens.
“What else can we count apart from stupid ducks and their ears??” Captain Dragon demands. “Are there any other notes?!”
“No… But… maybe we can count the words in the message?” Sergeant Angel Cake suggests meekly.
“Do ducks have ears – 4 words! Genius! Number of letters in each word – Two…”
“Five…four…four…”
“YES!!!”
The safe opens with a click and Captain Dragon removes a thermos flask out of it.
“Holy water!” screams Sergeant Tattoo.
“The holiest,” Aziraphale says proudly.
“There are also some coins here,” says Captain Dragon. “Put them in the bag, Sergeant Tattoo.”
She does so, while the Captain fills the plant mister with the holy water and sprays the trapdoor with it.
“That will dispel the demonic protection, surely,” the bowtie comments, and he is right: the trapdoor slides open. It is dark inside and there is music. It sounds like the 1970s disco.
“Be-bop,” says the bowtie with distaste. “But still, wiggle on!”
And the Army descends down the stairway to Hell.
“You have 19 minutes left,” says the familiar voice.
*
The Hell is drenched in semidarkness and unpleasant noises (with the disco music in the background). There is a single bulb hanging from the ceiling which comes on and off intermittently. There are posters on the walls, the biggest of which says “Please do not lick the walls”. The walls themselves look as if they are covered with mildew.
“I am not going to lick them even it’s the next clue,” states Sergeant Tattoo.
“Not even to save the world?” asks Captain Dragon as they walk around and study the posters. “They like their Clint Eastwood films around here. Dirty Harry, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.”
“Someone else can lick them to save the world, I am sure,” she replies. “Oh, look, they like James Bond as well.”
“Oh, and here is this old film about Shangri-La. Lost Horizon,” Sergeant Angel Cake says. “The Them mention it in the novel. I’ve been meaning to watch it but I keep forgetting.”
“Oh, look at these! All the demonic ones: The Devil Rides Out, Witchfinder General, The Exorcist, and of course… The Omen! Do you think the posters have some clues?”
“The Book says “To find the demon thou mustn’t tarry on your way but leave the room where moving pictures decorate the walls.”
“Right, soldiers, find a door or something.”
They discover a door soon enough but it is completely blocked by a Trivial Pursuit machine.
“Seems like we will have to play our way out,” observes the Captain. “Aha, that’s what the coins are for!”
He fishes a coin out of the bag and inserts it into a slot. The machine jumps into action. A question appears on the screen “When was the Spanish Inquisition established?” The options are 1) 1454 2) 1467 3) 1478 4) 1495.”
“Not the Spanish Inquisition again,” the Captain groans. “I hardly survived it last time. Any ideas, soldiers?”
“You must know, Aziraphale! Can you tell us?” Sergeant Tattoo says turning to Sergeant Angel Cake.
“My memories of the 15th century are a bit hazy, dear”, says the bowtie apologetically. “But I do believe it was before Columbus set sails.”
“Not the last one then,” Segar Angel Cake says. “Try the second”
He does and the game is lost at once. He inserts another coin and starts over. This time he picks 1478 and it happens to be correct. The next question is “How many people were executed in Paris during the Reign of Terror?” 1) no more than 1,000 2) more than 1,000 3) no more than 2,000 4) more than 2,000.
“Gods, they don’t expect us to really know all those numbers and dates, do they? We’ll just run out of coins and time!” says Captain Dragon in exasperation. “Aziraphale?!”
“I remember the crêpes quite clearly, dear, but…”
“We are missing something!” Captain Dragon is beginning to panic now. “Check out the Book, Sergeant, for someone’s sake!”
“On the right there is a note saying that “Should thou not learned be, seek the answers among the devil’s praise,” Sergeant Angel Cake reads. “What is this supposed to mean? Devil’s praise?”
“We haven’t looked around properly, that’s what!” cries Sergeant Tattoo. “Look! There’s more than just posters! There are all these Commendations on the wall over here! To Demon Crowley for the Spanish Inquisition, year 1478, To Demon Crowley for the Cattle Raid of 1601…”
“Oh dear,” Aziraphale squeaks, “That was my doing.”
“Here is the one about the Reign of Terror… let me read… aha, more than 2,000!”
The rest of the game is easy: Demon Crowley received Commendations for the Blitz, the sexual revolution in the 1960s, the M25 feat, and, finally, Brexit. With the last correct answer the Trivia machine moves aside and they rush through the door into a narrow passage.
The floor is bumpy: Sergeant Tattoo nearly falls over but Sergeant Angel Cake catches her hand and steadies her. There is a door which looks like a lift – with Circle 1 to 9 written next to the buttons and a lavatory door with a male figure on it. The music is different here – they hear the opening chords of Bohemian Rhapsody.
“We are getting closer,” Sergeant says almost ecstatically.
“I should hope so!!” yells Captain Dragon. “The time!”
“You have 9 minutes left,” says the female voice obligingly.
They press all of the buttons next to the lift quite desperately, but nothing happens. As they consult The Book, they discover they are warned not to explore the Circles of Hell, but dance “an olde Spanish dance” instead. On a pin.
“Aziraphale??”
“I am so sorry, dears. I can only do the gavotte.”
“These bumps! They are heads of huge pins – look!” Sergeant Tattoo shouts. “Which one should we dance on? Or, maybe, all of them? Only there are about a dozen.”
Meanwhile, Bohemian Rhapsody reaches the Scaramouche bit:
I see a little silhouetto of a man
Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango?
They are not very surprised when the song closes in into a loop. They hear these same two lines over and over again.
“So the old Spanish dance is the fandango then?” Sergeant Angel Cake asks and her bowtie says: “I believe you are right, my dear.”
“A little silhouetto of a man” – the male toilet sign – it must be it! So let us dance on the pinhead in front of it! How does one dance the fucking fandango?!”
They are all panic-stricken now, as the time slips away, but Sergeant Angel Cake is suddenly strangely calm. The book in her hands and the bowtie on her neck are really reassuring.
“There is a note on the right. It says it’s a lively dance with clapping and jumping. Just jump on the pin and clap your hands!”
“Not what you call a good dancing then,” smirks Captain Dragon and adds resignedly. “Don’t you dare to laugh, soldiers.”
He steps on the pinhead and starts hopping and clapping his hands. The lavatory doors clicks open. Sergeant Angel Cake even feels up to poking some fun at the Captain, but there is really no time.
They rush into the lavatory and see a large bathtub. There are clothes all around it.
“Oh no,” sobs the bowtie. “These are Crowley’s! We are too late! What have they done to him?!”
The Army ignores this and explores the room and the bathtub. Inside there is no water but they find a big rubber duck. It would be funny at another time but right now they just stare at it and then at each other.
“The Book!”
“Lovest thou all gods’ creatures, big and small.”
“Right. Who is going to love it first, then? It’s not exactly wall-licking, so… how about you, Sergeant Tattoo?”
“What do you want me to do, kiss it? If it helps save Crowley, I am ready.”
There is a kind of sound of indignation from the bowtie. It somehow inspires Sergeant Angel Cake.
“Feed it! That’s what we must do, remember?! Feed ALL the ducks!”
“Right! The last pellet!”
They reach into the bag frantically, throwing stuff out of it – the Choco cone, as well as the strawberry lolly and the vanilla with a flake (who has brought these along?), the two Bibles, the thurible and the candle (will we need them again? – Not in Hell, surely!), the remaining coins… The packet with the last pellet is on the very bottom. Sergeant Angel Cake grabs it with trembling fingers and places it into the duck’s beak. It fits perfectly. With a click and You’re My Best Friend track playing the duck splits in two, revealing Crowley’s sunglasses.
“Aziraphale!” the glasses say. “Nice dress! Will you introduce me to your new body and its friends?”
“Crowley,” Aziraphale exhales with a feeling “What have they done to you?”
“Just the same as with you, angel. Discorporated. So the sooner I possess someone and we all get out of here, the better.”
“Oh, I am so sorry – this is my lovely host, Sergeant Angel cake. This is captain Dragon and this is Sergeant Tattoo.”
“And you can possess me anytime you like,” Sergeant Tattoo says happily. “Any time at all.”
“How kind of you,” Crowley says. “Well, put them on! Nice tattoo, by the way.”
And she does so, nearly bursting in tears.
“Hey, this is not all!” Captain Dragon shouts. “We need to bring you both somewhere – don’t we?”
“To the road leading to Lower Tadfield, yes,” Crowley says. “Then Adam can incorporate us both again.”
“How do we get there? The Book?!”
“It says we need to find an underground passage dug by men of crocus,” read Sergeant Angel Cake.
“Tibetan tunnel!! Right. We have about four minutes according to my watch.”
“You have 3 and a half minutes left,” says the voice of God.
“Think quickly. Read the notes on the right. Not time to lollygag.”
“Yes, wiggle on” Aziraphale agrees, while Crowley gives a sort of growl.
“The passage starts in a valley where immortality…”
“I know!” Sergeant Tattoo cuts her off. “The Shangri-La poster! Let’s get back there!”
The rest is a blur. They run back to the chamber with the Trivia machine, locate the Lost Horizon poster, take it off the wall, find a passage behind it, crawl into it – they actually have to crawl for several metres before the tunnel gets wider and they are able to move on all fours and then finally walk. They rush forward until they push the door and find themselves in the first room again. It’s a bit different now: the ice-cream stall, the benches, the signpost and the ducks are gone. It’s a road in the woods and on the one plasma screen the Four Riders of the Apocalypse pass by and vanish out of sight. Instead of them there is final countdown – 00:41, 40, 39… On the second screen the Them appear and the frame freezes.
“Here we are,” says Captain Dragon.
“We made it!” says Crowley. “Thank you for the ride, Sergeant Tattoo. I wish we had more time to get to know each other.”
“Me too,” is all she can say through her tears. She takes off the glasses.
“It has been such a delightful journey, Sergeant Angel Cake,” says Aziraphale. “I’ll always look back on it with fondness.”
“Me too,” Sergeant Angel Cake echoes her friend. And she takes off the bowtie.
…10, 9, 8…
A panel slides out from under the screen with the Them. There is the Hellhound on it – very realistic, with red eyes glowing. There is a sound of barking. Dog moves close to them and they put the glasses and the bowtie on him. He slides back immediately…
…3, 2, 1…
The Them start moving again and ride away, while on the other screen an image of Adam with Crowley on the left and Aziraphale on the right appears – the wings, the flaming sword, the tyre iron all in place. The Good Omens theme starts playing and the door to the room opens.
The gamehost comes in, together with a lady in white. As she speaks, they recognise the voice of God.
“Congratulations, Angel and Demon Finding Army. You have saved the world. And I am very impressed with you all. But most of all by Captain Dragon’s Fandango.”
Both Sergeants start crying now and Joseph embraces them in a big manly hug.
“All right, birthday girls,” says Captain Dragon and then issues his last command. “Alcohol! Large amounts of it.”