[Qualified lung cancer survivor John Constantine watches his cig go out. He murmurs something rude under his breath while he gets the zippo back out.] Let's not call a dead child a screw up, yeah? I've enough on me plate as it is.

[That's the only important thing. The rest of what this woman's said is plainly nonsense.]

Look, luv, as I see it, you ain't dead and you ain't in hell. You've naught to complain about, if you've known me. Any version. So be a dear and quit with the nattering.

[He snaps his fingers. The chalk circle dissipates, and the daemon trapped within is free to move.]