Work Text:
Crowley saunters into the dark, damp room, vaguely resembling a lecture hall, where a large variety of demons with an even larger variety of strange, smelly appendages on their bodies are cramped on a selection of very uncomfortable chairs, all turned towards a small stage platform. It’s time for the demonic yearly elevator pitches. Hastur has just finished telling them about the umpteenth priest he has tempted this century, boring! Where has all the creativity gone? Crowley has been queuing in the gross hallway for way too long now (seriously, whoever invented queuing is truly evil), so now that his turn has come he’ll be taking his sweet, sweet time explaining his ingenious plan.
He takes his time setting up his PowerPoint presentation that he’d taken longer to design that he’ll ever admit to anyone, turns on the beamer (which very, very, very slowly whirrs to life and shows a picture of a light bulb) and whirls around with widespread arms to face the demons.
“Guys, okay, guys, this is really a big one, and it just came to me in a dream. Okay, listen guys, I did something super evil. Beelzebub,” Crowley points to the bored looking head (that’s swarmed with flies) of the department, “you’re gonna love this one. Remember when I did the Spanish Inquisition? The Second World War? Well, it’s something as good as that, only then modernized.”
Crowley presses the button for next slide, which shows a compilation of people dressed in ways that actually resemble the demons sitting in this room in some way. “So we all know Halloween, right? The one day where people are not afraid of us and think we actually look pretty cool? The one day where they lose their respect and fear for us? That’s because these people dress up to look scary themselves. There’s nothing sinful about this, so to gain more people for hell, which I know you’ll love, B, I created a trend that promotes sinning. I…” Crowley pauses for dramatic effect, and the demons lean in closer. “I… popularized slutty costumes!” He clicks to go to the next slide, which, with a very slow, lagging animated transition resembling a checkerboard, reveals pictures of very scantily clad men and women in weird looking clothes, if one could even call them clothes with the actual lack of fabric that they seem to have on their bodies.
“Right! Eh? Eh?” Crowley beams, very proud of his handiwork. The demons are looking back at him, dumbfounded. “Come on, guys! Everyone is uncomfortable and cold, everyone is more tempted to sin, AND I get to dress up as a sexy snake and for ONCE no one looks at me weird, better even, they might even compliment me! Eh? Genius, right?”
Everyone stares at him blankly. Crowley loses some of his patience. “This is a win-win situation, it’ll become a tradition for centuries to come, come on, guys. See the bigger picture: entire cities of people gathering together to sin!”
Suddenly the disembodied voice of Satan sounds through the room. “Good work, Crowley. Your creativity never fails to disappoint me. I’ll keep this innovative scheme in mind…”
Crowley folds his arms, smirking proudly and getting ready to sashay away, but not before showing everyone the final slide which says ‘SEE YOU IN HELL, SUCKERS’. He turns to face the room.
The room, full of odious, blank faces, is staring at back him.
“Can I get a wahoo?”
*
“… and that’s how I’ve gotten Hell off my back for yet another year,’ Crowley finishes.
“Well done, Crowley,” Aziraphale says. “But couldn’t you have come up with anything else? Or at least have worn anything else?”
Crowley looks down at his incredibly short, white toga, cinched at the waist with a (plastic) golden belt, and glittery, white thigh high boots. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”
Aziraphale squints up at the (plastic) golden halo hovering above Crowley’s auburn curls and then down to the (plastic) wings Crowley wears on his back with two elastic straps around his shoulders. “It just seems slightly… mocking.”
“Oh no, angel, I wore this to honour you, of course. Now, coincidentally, there seem to be two free stools at the Rivoli Bar, and seeing as it’s Halloween tonight, why don’t we head out to grab two Vampire Kiss Martinis and witness the outcome of my evil masterplan?”
Aziraphale, wearing the outfit he wore when going to see Hamlet for the first time (because honestly, why would you throw away a perfectly good outfit? And why would you ever pass up on the opportunity to wear a fine trunk hose and this extravagant buttoned doublet?!), rolls his eyes, fondly, and follows Crowley outside and locks up his bookstore. He turns to join his friend.
“Wahoo,” he says when he’s caught up with Crowley, who turns his head to look at him and gives him an inscrutable look through his (white-rimmed, plastic) dark glasses (with angel wings on the sides of the frame), but quickly turns his head back and saunters away in his slutty angel outfit. Aziraphale follows him, through the crowds of almost naked people, dressed most extraordinarily as sexy sushi, sexy cavemen, sexy cowboys, sexy nurses etcetera etcetera. Crowley’s creativity never ceases to amaze him.
*
Satan is smiling down upon the world that night, delighted by having an extra night of extra sinning. That Crowley… he might be perfect to raise my baby in a few years (The Adversary, Destroyer of Kings, Angel of the Bottomless Pit, Great Beast that is called Dragon, Prince of this world, Father of Lies, Spawn of Satan, and Lord of Darkness).
But that’s a matter for another decade.