EXT. DRY HIGHWAY, SOMEWHERE IN OREGON

  "Yellow Tongue" by Lee Scratch Perry plays.

  From a bright blue sky, two rays of light appear. One is a dark orange, the other a bright red. A bright, clear sound emits from them, as they both begin to materialize.

  Two False Angels, (Disguised Demons). Robert (7lp) fair-haired and formally dressed; Dylan (3lp), red-haired and brutish.

  Dylan: What are we doing here?

  Robert: Is that a joke? You got us sent down here. You let everyone in!

  Dylan: Only my friends from here!

  Robert: They killed themselves, Dylan, their lives were terrible, and they don’t deserve any goodness because of that.

  Spoiler- Dylan helped convince them on their way. He’s a psychopath, and he’s been able to hide it really well, both in life, and from the other false angels after he’d passed on. There’s some sort of ability about him, that prevents much of his deeds from being noticed.

  Dylan: Well, maybe I didn’t like that law! In fact, maybe we’re here to change a few more things. Bless the people that the other Dark Angels deem unworthy.

  Robert: I’m not doing that.

  Dylan: Oh, yes you will. If you want my referral to get you back down there later on, you’d better work with me.

  Robert groans to the sky above.

  Robert: It’s not my fault! Take me back! What is this ‘guilty by association’ shit? So I let him into Hell. What’s that have to do with anything?

  Dylan now sits in the road, tossing small pebbles across it idly.

  Dylan: Everything, I think.

  Robert steadies his breath. He leans down to face Dylan.

  Robert: I don’t want to be here. I know what it’s like. You don’t get to change anything about the world. I wish I could say it’s just what I’ve seen, but I’ve seen a lot, and there are very few exceptions.

  Dylan: Whoa. This is a different side of you.

  Robert: And it’s the side you’re gonna see more often, until we get back there.

  Dylan: So, do my idea. Bless people you think deserve it, (mutters) maybe I’ll bless a little, too, (normal) and we’ll be welcome once more.

  Robert: Wait, what did you just say? You’re not blessing anybody. You don’t know how to pick the people. You just pick anyone you like personally.

  Dylan: Yeah, that’s the best way, that’s how you know you’ll get along in Hell.

  Robert: You can’t just let anyone into Hell! Stop assuming that you can!

  Dylan: Rob, I’ve gotten away with so much. You have no idea.

  Robert: You mean in the mortal realm, right?

  Dylan: Uh… sure.

  EXT. FOOD TRAILER OUTSIDE WALMART

  Dylan and Robert each order a breakfast taco from a Vendor. They stand near a round, wooden table, not far from the trailer while a few more people move up the line to order, then sit down with their tickets. The food trailer is named "It's Raining Tacos". Old reference, I know, It's funny.

  Robert: I don’t like this. We’re not gonna find anyone worthy of anything more than they’ve got.

  Dylan gestures to the Vendor.

  Dylan: Well, what about this guy? He’s serving the public, he’s an entrepreneur, and a far as I know, he’s not poisoning anybody,

  Robert: Hey, that’s not a bad idea! Let’s go talk to him.

  Robert and Dylan practically run up to the Vendor, just to ask a question, but startle him slightly in the process.

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  Dylan: Are you a loyal man?

  Vendor: … I guess so. Why do you ask?

  Dylan: We’re wondering if you’d like to receive a blessing.

  Robert smacks him lightly, hopefully out of view of the Vendor.

  Robert: (whispers) No, don’t tell him that! (normal) Uh, he means just help in general. Whether it be financial, or otherwise. Is this something you’d be interested in?

  Vendor: Blessing? What is he talking about? Are you guys… from here?

  Robert: Um… no, sir, we’re not. But we can help you, if you prove yourself worthy to us.

  Vendor: This sounds really shady. What exactly are you offering?

  Dylan: We’re angels.

  Vendor: What?

  Robert: Investors. Angel investors.

  Dylan: No, like actual angels. Watch:

  Dylan lifts one of the cars in the parking lot several feet in the air, jut as someone was stepping out, causing them to fall. Their soul rises upward.

  Vendor: What happened to them, are they alright?!

  Dylan: Yes, fine. They’re fine. Just stay here.

  Dylan runs off to ‘help them’. The Vendor addresses Robert.

  Vendor: Look, I don’t want anything to do with either of you.

  Dylan: (V.O., telepathically) You would be wise to reconsider, Brett. You may not need our help, but you will if you run afoul of me. Accept our proposition.

  The Vendor looks off toward Dylan, who is pretending to help the fallen stranger.

  The Vendor shakes, and stammers.

  Vendor: What-what…

  He stares over to Dylan, again.

  Vendor: (normal) Never-mind. You can-can help me out. Whatever you can think of.

  Dylan returns, slapping his hands together.

  Dylan: That’s excellent! I’m glad we came to an agreement.

  Robert: What exactly do you need help with?

  Vendor: Um, marketing, I guess. Just need to… get the word out there, you know?

  Robert: Oh, I think we can do that! I’ll be happy to help with such a task.

  Dylan: You know, Sean Baker spent three times the production budget’s amount on the marketing for Anora.

  Robert: Well, yeah, but this is a food cart, not a movie glorifying sex workers..

  Dylan: Same difference. Both products…

  Robert: Nonetheless, I’m not spending millions on this place.

  Dylan (whispers) but… you could.

  Robert: (whispers) Yes, I could, but that’s not the point. Besides, we’re supposed to be proving him, somehow.

  Dylan: Well, let’s give him some customers, and see what he does with the money...

  Robert: Alright, deal.

  Robert and Dylan shake hands…

  Robert walks up and addresses the Vendor again.

  Robert: (normal) Congrats, you won’t regret it. We’ll be on our way, now.

  Vendor: What exactly are you planning?

  Dylan: (normal) Leave it to us, don’t you worry! (V.O., telepathically) I mean it...

  The Vendor gulps as they walk away, and hop into a vehicle.

  Robert: This car isn’t ours, is it?

  Dylan: No. you can’t just have it.

  Robert: Well, we need it for a second. I don’t want people to watch us do this.

  Robert enters another mode. He calms himself, then reaches out with his hands to the crowds of people going in and out of the store, attempting a sort of mass-hypnotism.

  Robert: Go to the food card here in the corner… It’s better than the other carts, by far. You don’t understand, you have to try.

  All at once, several members of the crowd in a good 500 meters starts to obey. They abandon their groceries, and move across the parking lot, then they form a line in front of the food cart. The Vendor’s eyes are wide, but they accept the first customer with a great smile. He looks off toward where he’d last seen Robert and Dylan disappear, but they kept inside the car, too far for him to see.

  Customer: Thank you very much!

  One Customer catches the Vendor unawares, just by handing him his money.

  Vendor: Huh? Oh, yeah, you’re welcome.

  Robert and Dylan drive off in their stolen vehicle, smirking to themselves.

  Robert: We really shouldn’t have done that without checking him out a little bit, first.

  Dylan: Hey, you said he was a good choice. I don’t want to hear that.

  Robert; I said it was a good idea, I did not say we should go through with it.

  Dylan: You should know that it takes very little to convince me to do things I want.

  Robert: And you want to help people?

  Dylan: Sure, why not? Is that so unbelievable?

  Robert: Yes! Very much! What, are you insane?

  Dylan: That doesn’t matter. Any problem I have like that, it’s supposed to be washed away after I ascend, right?

  Robert: Yeah. Absolutely.

  Dylan: Then I can’t carry it down to my mortal form. I’m still as sane as I was when I was up there.

  Robert: You were never sane up there, either! You’re a special case, Dylan, I can tell you that!

  Dylan hunches, looking away, muttering quietly.

  Dylan: (mumbles) You’re no prize peach yourself.

  Robert: What was that? What did you say?

  Dylan: (shouts) I said you’re no prize peach yourself!

  Robert: (blinks) Yeah... You’re insane.

  Dylan puts his seat back, and squirms into the back seat.

  Robert adjusts for a moment, looking at the road ahead, but Dylan uses this time to slip into the seat behind Robert, and choke him viciously as he drives.

  Robert tries to pry Dylan’s fingers apart with one hand, still keeping one hand on the wheel.

  Robert: (strained) Dylan, what are you doing? This isn’t-

  Dylan: You said it. I’m insane. This is what insane people do, isn’t it?

  Robert (strained): Dylan! Get off! Enough!

  Dylan breathes, and thankfully, lets go of Robert’s throat. Robert takes a bit of time to recover, his face still red.

  He parks, and steps out with Dylan. They walk together down a sun-blasted sidewalk, in a very nice neighborhood.

  Robert: (normal) What was that about?

  Dylan: (normal) I don’t like being made fun of.

  Robert: Alright, alright, I’m done. Let’s move on, now.

  Dylan: I… wish I could.

  Robert: (sighs) Let’s focus on the job, then. It’s the only thing that’ll keep us working together.

  Dylan: Actually, I was thinking we could split up, and do our own thing, and come back with the results. Sort of a, you know, a little competition.

  Robert: Even if I did agree, you would just do something horrible and immoral. I ethically can’t let you do that.

  Dylan: I promise I won’t do anything that the average human wouldn’t do.

  Robert: You just listed nothing. You’re excluding nothing.

  Dylan: The average rich human.

  Robert: Even worse. That’s a human with power. Don’t you think about the things you say?

  Dylan: What’s it gonna take to convince you that I can be let out on my own?

  Robert thinks for a minute…

  Robert: I want to see you help someone on your own, Pick them out, find what they need, help them with it, start to finish. Let’s see it.

  Dylan: I can’t do that. You won’t let me.

  Robert: We’ll do it right now. Or- you’ll do it right now.

  Dylan raise his eyebrows.

  Dylan: Alright.

  He steps away, and heads for an alleyway. He speaks to a young, poor boy.

  Dylan: Hello, there. How are you doing, need any help?

  The Boy turns away, and tries to ignore him.

  Dylan: I’m not like the others, you know. I have… abilities. I can help you, if you make sure to put it to good use.

  Boy: Of course I can do that, but how can I trust you?

  Dylan: Oh, every time with this… I don’t want to try and prove it to you, but I will if I must..

  Boy: Okay. Do it!

  Dylan scoffs, then looks around. He spots an analog clock on a tall post, and raises his hand toward it. He causes it to speed forward, and the light of the morning quickly peaks, then becomes orange, then night falls for a few seconds, until the sunrise illuminates the alley once again.

  Boy: How did you do that?

  Dylan: Let’s just say I come from a real important place. And I could be the one that helps you get up there.

  Boy: I’m not dying, what are you talking about?

  Dylan: No, no, that’s not what I mean, I mean… you know, when you do, I’ll make sure you get to the right place.

  Boy: Just because I’m on the street, doesn’t mean I did anything bad.

  Dylan: Exactly, wouldn’t dream of assuming that, I’m just saying, for now at least, I can help you with whatever you need. Just say the word.

  Boy: I don’t wanna accept help from anybody. Everyone thinks I owe them a favor when I try to accept things like that.

  Dylan: I promise you, I won’t ask for anything from you again, after you tell me what specifically you need. Yeah?

  The Boy considers his words a moment.

  Boy: Yeah, alright.

  The Boy holds out his hand, and Dylan shakes it, grinning.

  The Boy points to the end of the street, a few hundred feet uphill, toward an underpass.

  Boy: Kill those guys.