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Summary
Satan summons Crowley to Hell for a centennial review, but what Crowley's really there for is a party with the Hellish nobility. He's prepared to hang on Satan's arm, look pretty, and make nice with all the wrong dukes, counts, and presidents. He's been a trophy date before. What he hasn't been is a literal trophy.
Beelzebub tells Crowley to unfurl his wings. They have an array of ominous silver pins and orders to arrange Crowley for display. (Taxidermy. That's the word his imagination is skirting around.) It's strictly look, don't touch, but not every demon is smart enough to read the unwritten rules.
And then Satan has to fix Crowley up, doesn't he?