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“CROWLEY!”
A curious peek around the bookcase. “Yes, angel?”
“I said to get sweets for the children, what on earth are these?!”
Crowley came closer. “Err, candy canes?”
“Impossible. This box says ‘pickle’, and that says ‘gravy’.”
Crowley looks innocent. “Did you open them?”
“No?! I expected sweets. I was going to return them. And whatever jalapeno, catsup, or mustard were.”
“Angel, I swear on your autographed Hamlet folio, I purchased candy canes.”
Aziraphale’s eyes narrowed.
“But, you never specified a flavor, so I may have gotten creative.”
Aziraphale scowled. “Of course you did.”
Crowley pointed to himself, grinning. “Demon.”