INT. PADDY'S PUB — DAY
(The notebook is open on the bar like a courtroom exhibit. A PEN is poised. The GANG crowds around it. RYUK hovers in the background, bored like a dad at a dance recital.)
CHARLIE(pointing at the rules, panicking)
Okay—so it's a murder book. That's what it is. It's a murder book.
DEE
It's not a "murder book," it's a consequence book. There's a difference.
MAC(dead serious, like he's in a war room)
We need structure. If we have a cursed weapon, we need a code. A warrior code.
DENNIS(already annoyed at the word "code")
Mac, you don't have a code. You have vibes. And your vibes are: "mall cop with feelings."
FRANK(tapping the cover, calculating)
I'm seeing… profit.
This is like a gun, but you don't gotta buy bullets.
CHARLIE
It's worse than a gun, Frank! It's like… a thought gun.
RYUK(dry)
That's… not a thing.
CHARLIE(jumps, points at Ryuk)
See?! He's correcting me! That's demon behavior!
DEE(to Ryuk, too casual)
Okay, demon—what's your deal? Are you like… a manager demon?
DENNIS(snaps)
No—I'm the manager.
He is… an external vendor.
RYUK(genuinely thinking)
I guess?
MAC(crossing himself again, eyes locked on Ryuk)
You can't just "vendor" a demon, Dennis!
DENNIS
I can vendor anything. I'm charming.
(Charlie grabs the pen like a kid who found scissors.)
CHARLIE(determined, squinting hard)
Fine—fine, I'll do it. I'll do the science.
(He starts "writing" on a blank page. It's awful.)
Okay. "GARY???"
(Beat.)
Do I gotta draw his face or—
DENNIS(SLAPS Charlie's hand away)
No. No. No.
You're not "GARY???"-ing a homicide form, Charlie.
CHARLIE
It's not a form, Dennis, it's demon paper!
DENNIS
It is absolutely a form.
(Dennis flips the notebook pages like it's a terms-of-service agreement he's about to exploit.)
DENNIS(reading)
"Write the name… visualize the face…"
Okay. It requires… intent.
DEE(leaning in, excited)
I have intent. I have so much intent.
FRANK
I got a whole list of guys who owe me money.
MAC
No lists. No petty. We do justice.
DEE
Mac, you once tried to arrest a guy for cutting you in line at Shake Shack.
MAC
That was a crime of disrespect.
CHARLIE(grabby, trying to close the book)
Guys, you're not listening! This thing is evil! It's like… cursed paper!
DENNIS(SLAPS Charlie's hands away again)
Okay. Stop. Everybody stop.
We're testing it.
CHARLIE
No!
DENNIS(calm, terrifying)
Yes. We test it on someone who already deserves consequences.
Someone objectively bad. Someone society is already aiming at.
DEE(instantly)
My old drama teacher.
MAC
A predator.
FRANK
A debtor.
CHARLIE
A guy who kills cats.
DENNIS(pinching the bridge of his nose)
We are not doing "cats," Charlie.
(Dennis snatches the TV remote off the bar like he's about to do surgery.)
DENNIS(to everyone)
Sh. Shh. Shut up.
This is scientific.
DEE(snorting)
You don't do science.
DENNIS
I do outcomes.
(Dennis turns on the BAR TV. Static, then a daytime court show.)
DENNIS(flipping channels)
No… no… no…
Cooking… sports… local news—there we go.
(On TV: a NEWS ANCHOR is mid-story. A graphic reads "BREAKING NEWS." The segment is broadcast-safe, but urgent. A MUGSHOT pops up beside the chyron.)
MAC(locking in)
Okay. This is the one. This is righteous.
CHARLIE(horrified)
No! No—Dennis, you can't do this! You can't pick the news like it's a menu!
DENNIS(already leaning forward, squinting at the chyron)
Shh! I need the name.
DEE
This is insane.
DENNIS(reading the TV like it's a receipt)
Okay… first name… last name…
There.
CHARLIE(points, frantic)
Wait—wait—does it show his face? It says you gotta know the face!
DENNIS(dismissive, still squinting)
They have his mugshot right there, Charlie.
I have seen his face. It's… aggressively mediocre. That counts.
(Dennis writes in the notebook with obnoxious confidence. Everyone watches his hand.)
DENNIS(speaking as he writes, like he's narrating a magic trick)
Name… last name…
Cause of death… "shot… by… cop."
(He dots the period with a little flourish like he just signed a contract.)
DENNIS(leaning back, satisfied)
Done.
CHARLIE(voice cracking)
That's evil… that's so evil…
MAC(trying to rationalize it)
No, Charlie—this is… this is divine justice.
It's like… God's paperwork.
DEE
It's not God, Mac, it's Japanese demon bureaucracy.
FRANK(eyes on the notebook, greedy)
How long till it works?
RYUK(mildly interested)
Should be pretty quick.
(Beat.)
(Nothing happens.)
(They all stare at the TV. Then at the notebook. Then at Dennis.)
DEE(smug)
Wow. It's almost like it's a dumb notebook.
CHARLIE(relieved, immediate)
THANK YOU. Okay. Great. It's fake. We can burn it and—
DENNIS(snaps, defensive)
It's not fake. It's probably… delayed. Like an email.
MAC
Maybe you didn't visualize his face, Dennis.
DENNIS(offended)
I visualized the concept of his face. That's enough.
FRANK
Maybe you spelled it wrong.
DENNIS
I didn't spell it wrong.
DEE
You spelled "cop" with two P's.
(Dennis glances down. He did.)
DENNIS(quickly, covering)
That's a stylistic choice.
CHARLIE(pointing at the rules)
It says you gotta know the face! Dennis, you don't even know what that guy looks like!
You just killed… the idea of a man!
RYUK(quietly, to himself)
Honestly… that might work.
(Then—ON TV—)
NEWS ANCHOR (TV)
—We're receiving an update now. Police confirm the suspect has been shot and killed—
(The GANG FREEZES.)
(A perfect, stupid silence.)
DEE(whispering)
No.
MAC(crosses himself so hard it's basically a punch)
Oh my God.
FRANK(eyes sparkling, awe and greed)
Ohhhhhh… ho ho HO!
CHARLIE(sick, backing away)
…No.
No no no no no.
DENNIS(slow smile, like a man discovering fire)
See?
CHARLIE
That's a coincidence!
DENNIS
That's a result.
DEE
Dennis, what if you just… timed it?
DENNIS(immediately)
I didn't time it.
I guided the universe.
MAC(eyes shining, warrior delusion fully online)
Dennis… this is like… a holy weapon.
DENNIS(correcting)
It's a management tool.
(He taps the notebook.)
DENNIS
This is customer service, but with consequences.
DEE(instantly weaponizing)
Okay—so, like—if someone tries to cancel me online…
FRANK
If somebody tries to cancel my money…
MAC
If somebody commits sin—
CHARLIE
If somebody is mean to cats—
DENNIS(over them, loud)
NO CATS!
(Dennis flips to a fresh page and writes "CUSTOMER COMPLAINTS" at the top like he's building a policy manual. He's not even pretending anymore.)
DEE
Are you labeling the murder book?!
DENNIS
I'm organizing it.
Because none of you animals can be trusted with power.
RYUK(amused now)
This is… honestly kind of impressive.
CHARLIE(pointing at Ryuk, pleading)
Dude! Tell them it's evil! Tell them we're doing wrong!
RYUK(shrugs)
I mean… it is evil.
But you're also… very entertaining.
MAC(to Dennis, intense)
We need rules. We need an oath.
Only the worst of the worst.
DENNIS(already writing)
Great. Rule number one: Don't disrespect the bar.
DEE
That's not "worst of the worst," that's just—
DENNIS(spins the notebook toward them)
You see this?
If a guy comes in here, sends back a beer, snaps his fingers at us like we're dogs—
I'm putting him in the book.
CHARLIE(horrified gasp)
NO!
FRANK(leaning in, whispering like a dealer)
We could sell "guaranteed outcomes."
Like—fifty bucks, we "take care of your problem."
DEE
Or we do a tier system.
Bronze: bad luck.
Silver: humiliation.
Gold: death.
MAC
No tiers! That's corruption!
DEE
Mac, corruption is literally your brand.
DENNIS(cold, decisive)
Okay. Here's the test going forward:
We keep it simple. We keep it clean.
We only use it when the bar requires… balance.
CHARLIE(voice small, devastated)
You're gonna kill Yelp reviewers.
DENNIS(without blinking)
I might.
(Beat. Charlie reaches for the notebook. Dennis SLAPS his hand away again.)
DENNIS
Touch it again and I'll put you in there, Charlie.
CHARLIE(sincere fear)
You don't even know my last name!
DENNIS
I'll figure it out.
SMASH TO BLACK.