Every Day

Good Omens 2. Chapter 6

Nina: Will you just answer a simple question?
Aziraphale: If I hear one, of course.
Nina: What is happening? Why is everything so weird? This all started last week when the power went out, didn't it?
Aziraphale: Three questions, none of them simple. But to answer your last one, no. This all started a very long time ago. But... also, yes.

Aziraphale: I have to tell you, you can all leave now, and nobody will be hurt...
Shax: You'll be hurt.

Muriel: It's all confidential. I can't show it to you. I mean, I couldn't open it if I wanted to. I don't have clearance. You'd have to be a throne or a dominion, or above-- How did you do that?
Crowley: I haven't always been a demon, and they never change their passwords.

Nina: Why do they keep blowing up?
Aziraphale: Well, it's all a bit complicated. The circle, it's a gateway, but if you step into it and you aren't prepared, it can discorporate you completely.
Nina: Does what you say make sense in your head?

Gabriel: Anyway, Armageddon the sequel, that's a nah. What's next on the agenda?

Gabriel: I see. You're casting me down to Hell. Well, I accept my fate. Sometimes an angel just has to say, "Guys, enough." Even though...
The Metatron: No speeches, Gabriel. You are not going to Hell. For one prince of Heaven to be cast into the outer darkness makes a good story. For it to happen twice, makes it look like there is some kind of institutional problem.

Nina: What did you just do?
Aziraphale: I think... I may have just started a war.

Crowley: You... You blew up your halo? Ooh, Hell won't like that.

Gabriel: Why did you wanna meet me here?
Beelzebub: Well, if we're gonna have background talks, they can't be in either of our home territories.
Gabriel: And what do we need to discuss?
Beelzebub: Arma-bloody-geddon. That was a complete and utter pain in the ass.

Gabriel: I have a proposal to make. Instead of Armageddon, what about... no Armageddon?
Beelzebub: An interesting proposal. No Armageddon. They won't like that, though. Most of my demons live for Armageddon, if you can call that living.
Gabriel: Well, my angels too. But you can't always get what you... live for.
Beelzebub: Advantages to no Armageddon?
Gabriel: We keep the status quo, static and, um, quo-ey.

Gabriel: Two goblets of your intoxicating liquor, please. And, uh...
Beelzebub: Packet of crisps.
Bartender: Very good, sir. Which liquor would that be?
Gabriel: Whichever one it is you humans usually orally consume.
Bartender: Two pints of regular, then.

Aziraphale: I've had quite enough of this! You will speak one at a time.

Michael: Um, Gabriel, Beelzebub, what do you want?
Gabriel: I would like... better clothes, and I would like to be with Beelzebub. Wherever Beelzebub is... is my Heaven.
Beelzebub: Mm-hmm. And where you are, my sweet, is forever my Hell.
Crowley: You know, Alpha Centauri's nice... Always wanted to go there. Couple of decent planets. No nightlife to speak of.

The Metatron: Do people ever ask for death?
Nina: What?
The Metatron: Well, the name of your establishment, "Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death." I assume they always ask for coffee.
Nina: They don't ever ask for death, no.
The Metatron: No, I don't suppose they do... So predictable.

Michael: Um, and who are you?
The Metatron: For Heaven's sake. And I mean that most literally. You don't know me? Well, uh, what about you, Demon? Do you know me?
Crowley: Oh, I know you... Last time I saw you, you were a big, floating giant head, man.
Aziraphale: Oh! The Metatron.

The Metatron: It's just you and me, Aziraphale, eh? I think we need to have a bit of a chinwag, don't you?
Aziraphale: I don't believe there's anything left to be said. I've made my position quite clear.
The Metatron: Yeah, well, I brought you a coffee from the shop. It's an oat milk latte with a hefty jigger of almond syrup.
Aziraphale: You brought me a coffee?
The Metatron: Are you going to take it?
Aziraphale: Shall I?
The Metatron: Drink it? Of course. I've ingested things in my time, you know.

Crowley: When Aziraphale does come back, I think we need a little us time. After all this, I think we are going for an extremely alcoholic breakfast at the Ritz...

Crowley: We talk all the time! We've been talking for millions of years. Bla-bla-bla-bla-bla-bla-bla-bla-bla-bla. I say something brilliant, he says something unintentionally funny back. It's great.

The Metatron: What's that you're holding, Muriel?
Muriel: A book. It's called a book. I'm "reading" a book.

Crowley: Look, I suppose, um... I've got something to say. I know we ought to be talking about... It's probably best if I start off doing all the talking, you do all the listening, 'cause if I don't start talking now, I won't ever start talking, right? Yes, so...
Aziraphale: What's that lovely human expression? Oh, yes! Hold that thought.

Crowley: Oh, we're better than that, you're better than that, Angel! You don't need them. I certainly don't need them! Look, they asked me back to Hell, I said no. I'm not gonna be joining their team. Neither should you.
Aziraphale: But... Well, obviously you said no to Hell, you're the bad guys. But Heaven... Well, it's the side of truth, of light, of good...
Crowley: When Heaven ends life here on Earth, it'll be just as dead as if Hell ended it. Tell me you said no.

Aziraphale: If I'm in charge... I can make a difference.

Aziraphale: Come with me... to Heaven. I'll run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference.

Crowley: You can't leave this bookshop!
Aziraphale: Oh, Crowley. Nothing lasts forever.
Crowley: ... No. No, I don't suppose it does... Good luck.

Crowley: Listen. Do you hear that?
Aziraphale: .... I don't hear anything.
Crowley: That's the point. No nightingales.

The Metatron: Well, I can't think of a better angel to wrap things up, and to set into motion the next step in the great plan.
Aziraphale: Um, yes, you mentioned that. Can I know what it is?
The Metatron: Well, it's something we need an angel of your talents to direct. An angel who is familiar with how they do things on Earth.
Aziraphale: Ah.
The Metatron: We call it the Second Coming.

Elevator Voice: Doors closing. Going up.

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