INT. PADDY'S PUB — DAY
(The bar is dead. Not "quiet." Dead like a condemned aquarium where the fish unionized and left. Sunlight hits dust like it's trying to file a complaint. A CO DETECTOR clings to the ceiling, emitting the faint CHIRP of a device begging for mercy.)
CHIRP.
(DENNIS polishes a glass with clinical resentment, like the glass knows what it did. Each squeak is a personal insult.)
DENNIS
That beep is psychological warfare.
(MAC sits at the bar eating almonds with the grim, monastic focus of a man trying to win custody of himself. He chews like it's training.)
MAC
It's probably a curse. Curses love beeping. Like— ancient warnings.
(DEE doom-scrolls with the front camera on, practicing "relatable wellness face." She tries angles, immediately hates every angle, immediately blames the world.)
DEE
It's not a curse. It's content. The beep is "authentic decay." People love authenticity right now. They're all like "show me your rot."
(FRANK counts money at a table. He does not acknowledge the beep because he has never acknowledged a problem until it physically bites him.)
FRANK
If the beep wants to live, it pays rent.
(CHARLIE lurks behind the bar, sniffing the air like a bloodhound that can't read. He squints at nothing. He's tracking an invisible enemy.)
CHARLIE
Guys… it smells like wet history. Like the past got spilled.
DENNIS
It smells like rot, Charlie. It smells like you.
CHIRP.
(Dee shoves her phone in Dennis's face. He recoils like she waved a dead rat.)
DEE
Okay. Remember when we called that "Spirit Consultation" website as a joke?
DENNIS
You didn't call anything "as a joke," Dee. You called it because you're weak and you want attention.
DEE
Well, the scam psychic is on the way.
(Mac perks up like he just heard "Karate Pope." His posture changes: "devout.")
MAC
A psychic? Great. Finally, spiritual authority.
(Frank's eyes narrow. His face hardens with immediate PTSD.)
FRANK
No. No no no. If another random Japanese guy shows up in this bar, I'm gonna have a heart attack.
DENNIS
Frank, we don't even know he's Japanese—
FRANK
They're always Japanese when I'm about to lose money! It's like a curse!
CHIRP.
(The FRONT DOOR opens. REIGEN ARATAKA enters — crisp suit, perfect hair, the smile of a man who sells confidence in bulk. He pauses mid-step like he's entering a museum.)
REIGEN
Hello! Spirit Consultation—
(He takes one step in. The SMELL hits him. The VIBE hits him. The Philadelphia hits him. His smile stays, but his eyes briefly become the eyes of a man seeing God and it's a basement.)
(Reigen covers his mouth, horrified.)
REIGEN
…This isn't a haunting.
(Beat. The beep continues, offended.)
REIGEN(lower, sincere disgust)
This is Philadelphia.
(Charlie beams like that's a compliment.)
CHARLIE
Yeah! We're like… historic.
(Dennis steps forward like a maître d' about to berate the universe. He smiles, but it's a knife.)
DENNIS
Are you in charge.
(Reigen snaps into customer-service mode automatically. He's dealt with chaos. He's dealt with drunks. He has not dealt with this, but his body doesn't know that yet.)
REIGEN
I'm… the specialist. What seems to be the issue?
(The Gang explodes at once.)
MAC
CURSE!
DEE
BRAND EMERGENCY!
FRANK
MONEY!
CHARLIE
SMELL GHOSTS!
DENNIS
CONTROL!
(Reigen blinks, measuring the room like a man realizing he accidentally walked into a raccoon senate.)
REIGEN
Okay. One at a time.
CHIRP.
(Reigen tilts his head up, listening. He stares at the CO detector like it's glaring at him.)
REIGEN
Also—someone is dying in that beeping box.
(Dennis doesn't look up. He just tightens his grip on the glass.)
DENNIS
It's not a box. It's a ceiling device. And it's ruining my atmosphere.
(Reigen looks at the taped "BREATH ZONE" still stuck to the floor from last episode, then at the mildew-stained wall, then at the Gang.)
REIGEN
Right. Okay. Here's what we're doing.
(Beat. Everyone leans in.)
REIGEN
I'm going to fix… whatever this is.
And you're going to help me.
Because if I leave, you die in here.
SMASH CUT TO BLACK.
TITLE CARD:THE GANG GETS AN EXORCISM