A tatty inner-city cafe. BEN, a tatty inner-city man, is talking to JUDE, a power-dressing female journalist. His first speech, hesitant and measured, starts in Voiceover.
BEN
I just answered the advert in the local paper. I was desperate by this
point, having handed in my notice at work and at my last flat. I needed
to get out of the country, needed a place in the city, and this was
the only place vaguely within my range. The advert was vague enough
for me to be suspicious, asking just for a fifth person to make up a
house-share, but I really didn’t care. So I ‘phoned the number and spoke
to a very charming woman who took my current address and we arranged
a time to look round the property.
JUDE
Is that when you met them?
BEN
No. No, I didn’t meet them then. Denise showed me round the place while
they were out at the shops.
JUDE
They were all out? Down Sainsbury’s?
BEN
Somerfield. It was the nearest supermarket. Sometimes they would go
to Sainsbury’s at... the out of town shopping centre. But I’m deviating.
JUDE
Yes.
BEN
Sorry, Jude. Anyway, I saw the propery with Denise, and it was great.
I mean, students lie awake at night fantasising about this house. It
had everything... loads of ‘phone points, a lounge with enough technology
to give Mr. Spock the horn, a kitchen with an Aga, washing machine and
tumble drier, a bathroom with a power shower, three floors, five bedrooms,
all massive, all with triple glazing and radiators, but well air-conditioned,
too. Heaven, and for that rent.. Bills inclusive, too.
JUDE
And?
BEN
What else could I say? I joked about, you know, “Where’s the catch?”
And Denise laughed along with me. I wish I’d looked at her eyes a bit
more at that point. I’m sure I would have found a clue in there..
JUDE
A clue as to whom you were moving in with?
BEN
Exactly. But I didn’t think about catches. I would probably have moved
in to this house if I had to share with Dennis Nilsen. It was too good
to resist.
JUDE
But there was a catch, wasn’t there?
BEN
Oh yes. You could say that...
CREDITS
INT. HALL, DAY.
The hall is bright, large and airy, as is the rest of the house. The door is dominated by a huge stained-glass panel set into it depicting a map of the world. At each corner of the map is a symbol; A set of scales, a sword, a scythe and a crown. After a moment of calm and quiet, a voice can be heard, raised in slightly whiny complaint.
PESTILENCE
(Off)
.. well, I’m not cleaning it up again! I have to do all the housework,
don’t I? It’s not bloody fair!
WAR
(Off)
Fuck off! I’m not tidying it and that’s it!
PESTILENCE, a man in his mid-twenties with acne and dressed in badly faded jeans and a white T-shirt, stomps through the hallway. As he marches through, the shape of a person walking up to the door can bee seen through the stained glass. There is the sound of a key turning cautiously in the lock, then the door swings open to reveal BEN, looking a hell of a lot smarter than he did in the prologue, carrying a large holdall.
BEN
Hello? Hell-
PESTILENCE pokes his head out of the lounge. He is wearing a dust mask and heavy-duty Marigold rubber gloves. He pushes the mask up to the top of his head and smiles warmly.
PESTILENCE
Hi! You must be Ben. Denise showed you where your room was, yeah? Just
take your stuff up. I’ve got to clear up in here.
BEN
Oh, right, and you a-
PESTILENCE
We’ll get to know each other when you’re settled, eh?
With that, he pulls the dust mask down and retreats back to the lounge. BEN shrugs and takes his first bag upstairs.
INT. LOUNGE, DAY.
The immense lounge looks like a bomb has hit it, almost literally. There
are lighter burns on the sofa and an overflowing ashtray sits dead centre
on the large dining table. Takeaway food cartons litter every flat surface,
along with CDs out of their cases, rental videos, screwed up Post-It notes
and, alarmingly, one or two handguns. The enormous widescreen TV, however,
is pristine. PESTILENCE is trying to make some impact on the state of
the place.
When he has started his unpleasant task, FAMINE, a skinny man in
his late-forties, wearing black slacks and a black cardigan over a black
shirt, emerges from the kitchen.
PESTILENCE
‘Morning.
FAMINE
Oh, I was going to do that. Sorry.
PESTILENCE
It’s okay. I’ve started now, haven’t I?
FAMINE
Well, I’ll just take out these...
FAMINE picks up the takeaway boxes and walks off to the kitchen with them.
PESTILENCE
Oh, foul! You’ll... catch something. It’s not hygienic. I mean, you
don’t know..
FAMINE re-enters, his plate piled high with assorted exotic leftovers.
FAMINE
There’s loads left. God, lighten up. What’s the worst than can happen
to me?
PESTILENCE
Well, there’s Ebola, where your intestines liquify and eject themselves
from every orifice..
FAMINE, a forkful of noodles halfway to his mouth, pauses and examine the food.
FAMINE
Ah. Really? And that actually exists?
PESTILENCE
(Smugly)
Of course.
FAMINE
Well, maybe I’ll save them for later, then..
INT. KITCHEN, DAY.
FAMINE dumps the leftovers into the overflowing swing bin. PESTILENCE marches past, holding a bin liner at arm’s length, which he dumps out of the back door.
PESTILENCE
Will you empty that? For God’s sake, that bloke’s moving in today, well,
he’s here, actually, and what sort of impression does that give? Please?
It’s mostly your crap..
FAMINE
I fail to see why I should get the blame.. !
PESTILENCE
Those leftovers you just threw in. The egg fried rice from Tuesday.
The pizza from Monday. The fish and chips from Sunday, the jam roly-poly
from Saturday.. do you want me to go on?
FAMINE
Alright, alright, point taken! I shall empty it forthwith.
PESTILENCE
Please do. It’s absolutely horrible in here at the moment.
FAMINE grumbles a little, but sets about putting the overflow into PESTILENCE’S proffered bin liner. PESTILENCE winces as FAMINE digs into the rubbish with his bare hands and scoops it into the bin liner unperturbed but the stink.
FAMINE
Oh, what’s this..?
FAMINE holds up the stiff corpse of a rat.
FAMINE
“All my crap?” I think this is hers, is it not?
PESTILENCE
Well, it’s not like she’s ever going to clean it up, is it, so just
get on..
FAMINE
Well, this is most unfair..
INT. BEN’S ROOM, DAY.
BEN
(VO)
It was all so lovely. The house, the room. The one person I’d met, though
he hadn’t introduced himself then, was friendly, personable. I had a
distinct feeling of optimism, sitting there with all my possessions
spread over the thick blue carpet.
BEN sits down on the bed in the corner of this beautifully-appointed room and looks about himself. All his Earthly possessions are in bags, suitcases and boxes around the room. He wears the expression of one who knows that he must now inevitably unpack all that stuff. He rubs his face with his hands a few times to wake himself back up, then starts to unpack.
INT. BEN’S ROOM, NIGHT.
BEN
(VO)
I made myself at home as quickly as possible; I didn’t want to feel
like I had anthing to be getting on with before I went down to get to
know my new housemates, I just wanted to be able to relax with them.
Actually early evening. BEN has now unpacked everything and his room looks like very tidy bedroom. His laptop computer is perched proudly on his writing desk, his portable stereo on his bedside cabinet, next to the lamp and clock radio. All his clothes have managed to fit into the wardrobe and the ornate chest of drawers. He stands proudly in the centre of the room and sighs an exhausted and satisfied sigh. He draws the curtains, then heads out of the door...
INT. LANDING, NIGHT.
.. down the first flight of stairs and along the small landing with four doors on- three bedrooms and the bathroom; one of the doors has a large poster on the door, a flyposter for the “classic” Cannibal Corpse album “Butchered At Birth”. BEN heads down further..
INT. HALL, NIGHT.
.. through the hall and into..
INT. LOUNGE, NIGHT.
.. where PESTILENCE and FAMINE are playing snap on the dining table with the minor arcana of the Tarot pack. The room is spotless. PESTILENCE greets BEN with a cheery wave. FAMINE seizes the opportunity, noticing the seven of cups on the seven of swords.
FAMINE
Snap!
PESTILENCE
Not fair! I wasn’t looking..
FAMINE
That’s not my fault, dear boy.
BEN
Hello.
FAMINE
Ah, hello, come in, sit down, come on. Would you like to play?
BEN
Snap?
FAMINE
We can play something more sophisticated if you would prefer..
PESTILENCE
Or we could just talk? I mean, I suppose there’s a lot you’d like to
ask us about..
BEN
Um, well, yes, I suppose.
BEN takes a seat next to FAMINE, who gathers up the cards and puts them into their pack.
BEN
Were you just playing snap with tarot cards?
PESITLENCE
Yeah. But we take out the major arcana. It’s difficult to find a match
for Death..
This causes FAMINE and PESTILENCE to crack up. BEN laughs politely but confusedly.
PESTILENCE
No, but seriously, have you any questions to start off?
BEN
Um, oh, God, I can never think of anything when people ask me that..
At this point, WAR comes in. WAR is way younger then the others, around seventeen, dressed in baggy red skate jeans and a red Che Guevara-print T-shirt. He looks pissed off, but then, he would. He gives BEN a cursory nod and flops onto the sofa. He waves a hand vaguely at the TV and it switches on, switching to CNN reporting on some civil war or other in a country far away. WAR finds this amusing, snorting with laugher at the reporter’s attempts to explain the factionalism raging around him.
PESTILENCE
Turn it down..!
WAR
Alright! Seig heil! Fuck’s sake.
He waves to the TV and the sound reduces. BEN looks at the TV with more than a little curiosity.
BEN
That’s a clever TV.
FAMINE
In what way?
BEN
Well, how does that remote control work..?
FAMINE
Sorry?
BEN
He just sort of waved his hand and... what?
He notices that PESTILENCE and FAMINE have exchanged looks. PESTILENCE leans forward sympathetically.
PESTILENCE
Oh, dear. Denise didn’t tell you very much about us, did she?
BEN
Well, she just sort of said you were, er, four professionals on a long-term
contract in the area. Mind you (WHISPERING) isn’t he a bit young?
This causes FAMINE and PESTILENCE more amusement.
FAMINE
Dearie, dearie me..
PESTILENCE
Right. Perhaps it would be better if we introduce ourselves?
BEN
Well, I wouldn’t mind knowing your names, at least.
PESTILENCE
Okay. Well, I am Pestilence. This is Famine here, and that’s War on
the sofa.
There is a pause. BEN is taken aback, then slowly starts laughing himself.
BEN
Oh, I see. And I suppose that Death is out at the moment?
PESTILENCE
Just out grabbing a bottle of wine, actually.
BEN
So he’ll be back soon, then?
FAMINE
Er...
On cue, the front door slams open. In walks DEATH, a striking woman of thirty dressed in “arctic” urban camouflage gear. She is carrying a bottle of red and a bottle of white.
DEATH
Hi! You must be Ben?
INT. CAFE, DAY.
JUDE edges the dictaphone nearer to BEN, who sits back and lights a cigarette.
BEN
Too weird. I mean, either they really were the four horse, er, people
or they were mad, yeah?
JUDE
That’s about as good a summation of it as I could come up with.
BEN
Eh?
JUDE
Yeah.
BEN
Oh, right. Sorry. Look, can we carry this on tomorrow? I feel like shit
at the moment.
JUDE
Is that really necessary?
BEN
Yeah, it’s really necessary. I’m totally fucked.
JUDE
But you’ve not given me anything!
BEN stands and backs out of the cafe.
BEN
Tomorrow, I promise!
DEATH, dressed as a waitress, walks over to the table and plonks down a saucer with the bill in it. Without looking, JUDE chucks a £10 note in and rushes out of the cafe to follow BEN.
EXT. CAFE, DAY.
JUDE emerges and looks both ways down the street. BEN is nowhere to be seen.
JUDE
Shit.
She shoulders her bag and walks off.
INT. CAFE, DAY.
JUDE is sitting alone at the same table the next day. She twiddles a coffe cup backwards and forwards. After a while, DEATH walks over and bends down to speak to her.
DEATH
He’s not coming, is he?
JUDE
What?
DEATH
Your man. I saw you together in here yesterday..
JUDE
Oh, he’s not my man. I’m just doing an interview.
DEATH
Oh, really? For what?
JUDE
Research for my book.
DEATH
Oh, how interesting. What’s it about?
JUDE
Well, it’s sort of about visionaries.
DEATH, looking intensely interested, slides into the seat opposite JUDE.
DEATH
And is he a visionary?
JUDE
I’m not sure. I think he’s actually.. er, possibly. He claims to have
had a vision of the Apocalypse.
DEATH
And has he?
JUDE
Who knows? I haven’t got anything out of him yet. Just a big rambling
story about moving into a house.
DEATH
Oh well.
DEATH appears to lose interest now. At this point, there is a discreet beeping noise. JUDE unclips her pager from her belt and reads the message.
JUDE
Ah, this is him now. Well, I’ve got to go.
JUDE throws more money into the saucer and stands to go. DEATH reaches out and grabs her arm. JUDE looks down at the suddenly intense DEATH.
DEATH
Don’t take what he says too seriously, miss. Visionaries are always
close to madness.
JUDE
Um, no. No, I’ll certainly take that into account..
DEATH releases her grip and smiles pleasantly.
DEATH
Just so you don’t embarrass yourself, you know.
JUDE
Er, er, thanks.
She stumbles out of the cafe. DEATH watches her go with mild amusement on her face.
EXT. CAFE, DAY.
JUDE stops just outside the cafe and looks at her arm. There is a deep red mark on it in the shape of Death’s hand. She rubs at it and walks off.
INT. THE SHIP, DAY.
The Ship is a naval theme pub, with much seafaring bric-a-brac ranging from ship’s wheels to plastic lobsters. At this time of the afternoon, it is all but deserted. BEN sits in the corner, nursing a pint of Guinness. JUDE walks in, orders a tonic water, and goes over to BEN.
JUDE
Classy. Still, I suppose it’s an improvement on the cafe.
BEN
Well, I could hardly meet you in there again, could I?
JUDE
Why not?
BEN
Best not to go into it. Now, where did we get to?
JUDE
Just about nowhere, Ben.
BEN
Death had just arrived, hadn’t she?
JUDE
Cut the introductions. Get to the apocalypse.
BEN
But it needs context, you know? You should know that, Jude. It’d be
a thin book without any background details, wouldn’t it?
JUDE
Alright, I concede that. So, after the first night, how did things settle
down? I assume you didn’t move out straight away.
BEN
That’s right.
INT. BEN’S ROOM, NIGHT.
BEN lies on his bed, fully clothed, staring at the ceiling.
BEN
(VO)
I couldn’t move out that first night anyway, because I’d just got all
my stuff packed away and couldn’t really just.. up and move out. So
I spent that first night in a state of mild panic. Whether they were
mad or genuine, were they really people I wanted to live with?
Details: There is a chair propped against the door handle.
BEN
(VO)
Then again, I had said I’d move in whatever. And, really, they weren’t
that bad. Pestilence seemed very affable, Famine was nice in a polite,
quiet way, War was.. well, War wouldn’t be my first choice for flatmate,
but apparently he spent a lot of his time sulking. And Death... well,
Death was, er, God, how can I put this? Death was.. is, er, well, she
has something about her.
INT. KITCHEN, DAY.
The next morning. DEATH, in a faded grey nightshirt, is making herself a fried breakfast. BEN stands in the doorway, watching her.
JUDE
(VO)
Are you saying you were attracted to her? Is that what made you decide
to stay?
BEN
(VO)
I don’t know. Isn’t death supposed to be sexual somehow?
DEATH notices BEN in the doorway and beckons him in.
DEATH
Hey, ‘morning. Do you want some? It’s just what’s left in the ‘fridge,
but it looks okay.
BEN
Er, please.
She grabs another plate from the stack.
DEATH
Cool. Sleep well?
BEN
(Noncommital)
Mmm.
DEATH
Was that a yes or a no? Oh, Ben, were you worried last night? Poor soul.
Yes, we tend to have that effect on people. But don’t start packing
just yet.
BEN
No?
DEATH
Really. We’re really very ordinary. And I suppose you know a little
about us already, yeah?
BEN
Well..
DEATH
Oh, come on, of course you do. So you should know what to expect. The
one basic guideline is that you shouldn’t rattle War’s cage. Beyond
that, we’re all pretty much normal.
BEN
Normal? You’re either Biblical figures of global destruction or you’re
four care in the community cases with a nice house! Either way, how
do you define yourselves as normal?
DEATH
Well, and I don’t wish to be sociological with you on this, how does
one define normality per se in this crazy mixed-up world?
She puts the food onto the plates and takes them both through to the the lounge.
INT. LOUNGE, DAY.
BEN follows DEATH and takes the seat opposite hers on the dining table. He picks up a fork and toys with his food as DEATH tucks into hers with gusto.
BEN
Well, I suppose I might as well stay for at least the month I’ve paid
in advance for.
DEATH
I can’t say fairer than that. If you want to move out after that, that’s
fine by me.
BEN
I just hope I’m making the right decision.
DEATH
Oh, of course you are. Just think of all the humourous anecdotes we
can relate to you over dinner.
BEN
Well, that’s one thing, I suppose.
There is a pause. DEATH carries on eating. After a few mouthfuls, she looks up at BEN’s untouched plate.
DEATH
Come on. You’re worse than Famine.
BEN shrugs and eats a fried mushroom. After this, he regains his appetite and starts in on everything, pausing only to talk to DEATH.
BEN
I got this.. weird feeling last night. When you came in.
DEATH
Oh, yeah?
BEN
Like.. the other three were.. oh, I dunno.
DEATH
Well, let’s leave it at that, eh?
BEN
(VO)
What I meant to say was that I got the feeling that the other three
were scared of her, or at least in awe of her. Respectful, certainly.
They became quieter when she was around. It was something I would notice
again and again over the next few weeks.
INT. PUB, DAY.
BEN knocks back what remains of his Guiness then does and gets another. JUDE sits back in her chair and picks up the dictaphone.
JUDE
So, am I faced with a religious lunatic who, after reading Revelations
over and over again, transplanted the characteristics of the four horsemen
onto his average flatmates, or an ordinary man with an absolutely unbelieveably
extraordinary tale to tell? Impossible to say. He’s dishevelled and
drinks too much too early in the day, but that means nothing, he could
just be a journalist. No, there’s something about him which suggests
that he not only believes what he’s saying but has the scars to prove
it.
BEN returns to the table with his pint. He sets down another tonic water in front of JUDE, who places the dictaphone between the two glasses.
JUDE
So, did your fascination with Death go any further?
BEN
Ha, well, all in good time. This can’t be just a story about her and
me, the other three are inextricably linked.
JUDE
(Thwarted)
Of course.
Pause.
JUDE
You know, I’m the writer here. I don’t like the way you’re structuring
this narrative for me.
BEN
Well, I am, so live with it. Anyway, I suppose I got on best with Pestilence..
JUDE
I don’t care!
BEN
You will.
INT. LOUNGE, DAY.
BEN comes in and sets his briefcase down by the sofa, where PESTILENCE is sitting watching the cricket.
BEN
Hello.
PESTILENCE
Oh, hi. Still here, then?
BEN
I could leave if you want...
PESTILENCE
No, no, I was just surprised you stuck with us. Your face when we introduced
ourselves... But, good, you’ve stayed. It’s nice to have some company.
BEN
But what about the other three?
PESTILENCE
Some different company, then.
BEN
Mortal company?
PESTILENCE
Suppose. Have a seat.
BEN remains stood up.
PESTILENCE
Oh, come on. I don’t bite.
BEN clearly has an internal tussle, then sits down by PESTILENCE, who grins happily.
PESTILENCE
You were thinking “Oh, God, I hope I don’t catch anything”, weren’t
you?
BEN
Well..
PESTILENCE
Natural enough, I suppose. But what you’ve got to remember is that it’s
still just business as usual with the world. We’re only a.. er, threat
when the time of the Apocalypse is at hand.
BEN
Really? I thought you were abroad in the world at all times, you know,
responsible for all the pestilence and..
PESTILENCE
Nah. That just happens. Bugs and all that. I mean, take Death, for instance.
If she was like your traditional Death character, she’d have to be out
all the time ferrying souls from this life to the afterlife, yeah? Clearly,
though, she isn’t.
BEN
Oh, right.
PESTILENCE
Good thing, too. She’s got the best taste in wine. Always goes
for a pale rose, but there you have it. We’d be lost without her.
Pause.
BEN
Still, you must do something. I mean, all the to-ing and fro-ing from
the flat..
PESTILENCE
Want to know the truth?
BEN
Doesn’t everyone?
PESTILENCE
It’s not that big a truth.
BEN
Oh, well, carry on, anyway.
PESTILENCE
Death works at a bookmakers. Famine is a supply teacher. War stacks
shelves at Somerfield.
BEN
What? Oh, now I know this is all some elaborate joke..
PESTILENCE
God’s honest. You don’t believe me at all, do you? Which bit don’t you
believe?
BEN
Well, mainly, the bit about you lot being the four horse.. persons of
the Apocalypse.
PESTILENCE
We do have certain powers, you know...
BEN
Prove it.
PESTILENCE
Just have.
BEN
How- eugghhh...
BEN, scratching at his elbow, looks in horror as his fingers are coated in blood and pus. PESTILENCE laughs.
PESTILENCE
It’s nothing, really. Oh, don’t be a big baby.
BEN
Stop it!
PESTILENCE
If I stop it, will that be sufficient proof?
BEN nods, wiping gunk on his trousers. Then he looks again at his elbow- it’s fine.
BEN
Okay. Okay. So what do you do?
PESTILENCE
The housework.
BEN
Fair enough.
INT. PUB, DAY.
JUDE leans over and clicks the dictaphone off.
JUDE
Where is this going?
BEN
The end of the world.
JUDE
Look, Ben. I’ve been interviewing you now for two days. You claim to have
a vision of the Apolcalypse which you want to share, but so far all you’ve
told me about are some odd flatmates and an unpleasant boil on your elbow.
BEN
Alright, you want me to get to the Apocalypse?
JUDE
Before you do, can I ask why, if the Apocalypse has taken place, we are
still here?
BEN
Depends on your definition of “Still”.