Sunday, May 11, 2014


Found this in the unposted pile.

While the world - including myself, let that be fundamentally clear - reels from Paul McGann fulfilling a nine year prophecy of turning up for a quick and dirty regeneration sequence, I thought I'd go against the grain completely and waffle about YOA instead. How did Andrew get on with that exorcism?

[Bedroom. A blotched-face woman is strapped to a bed on an IV drip, muttering to herself in Romanian. The door opens and Andrew enters with a boombox on his shoulder blaring out a little-known thrash metal cover of "Stariway to Heaven" by Toyz Went Bezerk. He notices the woman.]

Andrew: Sorry. Don't mind me.

Woman: Release me from these straps.

Andrew: Can't you do it yourself?

Woman: If I could, I would have.

Andrew: Well, lie back and enjoy the bondage.

Woman: Are you not here to help me?

Andrew: What on earth gave you that idea?

[He sits down on a chair facing the bed and puts his feet up on the boombox.]

Woman: Who are you?

Andrew: Who are you?

Woman: I'm the Devil! Now kindly undo these straps!

Andrew: You're the Devil.

Woman: Yes.

Andrew: And you can't undo the straps yourself.

Woman: I could make them vanish, but that would be a vulgar display of power.

Andrew: Yeah. I can see modesty and decorum are really your bag, baby. What would you do if I let you go?

Woman: Unstrap me and find out.

Andrew: Fine. I'll stay ignorant, you stay trapped. I thought the Devil was supposed to be smart.

Woman: And I thought you were supposed to be a private detective.

Andrew: Private detective. Exorcist. Part-time toy salesman.

Woman: Would you like to know what your mother thinks about you?

Andrew: Not particularly.

Woman: She's burning in hell right now.

Andrew: If you say so.


Andrew: Convince me. Honestly, for the ultimate tempter of mankind, your salespitch is shit!

[She projectile vomits. Andrew ducks.]

Andrew: Oh, that'll convince me. Jeez. OK, you can throw up ectoplasm until you pass out from dehydration. It's not going to impress me. I mean, vomit? Is that supposed to impress me?

Woman: You wish to do her more harm than good?

Andrew: I'm not the one possessing her. Seriously, you are a huge disappointment. And I've read Del-Del!

Woman: Childish scribblings of those who fear the dark.

Andrew: Yeah, plotting was a bit dodgy for me too. But better than anything from Ivan Malouf. Imaginary Life my sphincter! Anyway, you're the Devil. The bane of all that is good. And given the torture and chaos you can cause you... possess a piss-weak thirty-two year old woman and throw up on the carpet. Are you even still surprised God kicked you up the arse? Wile E Coyote would be more trouble than you?

Woman: Quality is over quantity. I shall burn this family apart from the inside out.

Andrew: And then what? You're either going to kill your host or get locked in a looney bin. This is not the attitude that wins, Bobby.

Woman: ...did you just call me Bobby?

Andrew: Yeah. Barton Luther Zachariah Robert. That's your name? B.L.Z. Bob?

Woman: is pronounced "zed", mortal.

Andrew: Hah! The devil stands up for grammer. Oh, how evil! Hold me, I TREMBLE!

[The curtains fall from the window. The door bangs shut. The boombox blares static.]

Andrew: Telekenisis. I am very scared and impressed. Why don't you snap my neck?

Woman: You want to die.

Andrew: You care what I want? I bet you just used up all your strength. That's how psychokinetics works, it doesn't matter how you use it, it's as exhausting as doing it the normal way. Also, you're still strapped down. Game, set and match.Do you speak latin?

Woman: Like a native.

Andrew: Well, I don't, so let's stay speaking in English. It's not going to impress or intimidate me any more than bumping into an Italian with gastric distress. So, are you going to leave that body or what?

Woman: Not until she rots and lies stinking in the Earth.

Andrew: So, what you're saying is... you're not going to be doing anything else for the next few decades then?

Woman: What? No.

Andrew: So while your little shell there decays, the world is free of the devil? Sounds good to me.

Woman: You little sinner, it is corruption incarnate!

Andrew: Whatever. You've got yourself stuck in there. Like one family from Surrey Hills is worth the ultimate freedom of the human race! Do what you like, it's all good from now on. I'll drink to that.

[He pulls out a water bottle.]

Andrew: Want some?

Woman: ...Holy Water! Keep it away from me!

Andrew: So, you're powerless, strapped to a bed, and scared of water. How did Satanism get started when you are weaker than vegetarian piss?!

[He squirts the water on her. She screams.]

Woman: It burns! It burns!

Andrew: Well, here's an idea. Get out of the body so you don't get hurt. Christ, you are a moron.

[She starts screaming incoherently.]

Andrew: Is the diddy-widdy demon having a big tantwum? Ooh, boo-boo-hoo!

Woman: Emit su evig! Ydob eht ni mraw si ti! Uoy ees I! Dlihc a si eh! Emit su evig! Werdna! Werdna!

[He takes off the lid and empties the water on her. She screams.]


Woman: Siht rof eid llahs uoy! Denruomnu, devolnu dna enola!


[She starts screaming.]

Andrew: OK. No more Mr. Nice Guy.

[He strides over to the IV drip, tears it open with his teeth and empties out the liquid.]

Andrew: [incredibly angry and quickly] I'm telling you, you saccubitic piece of rectal distension, if you don't cough up some answers right now I'm going to waste you right here and now with a goddamned embolism! You've given me absolutely no reason not to, even apart from the fact you've monumentally ruined my weekend! I'm going to do it, you know! Don't you dare think otherwise!

[He blows up the bag.]

Andrew: Last chance, you pustulant parasite!

...never really worked out what happened next.

Actually, got a bit dark.

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