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“Crowley, you promised to join the festivities tonight!”
“No one told me the theme. I’ll look ridiculous!” Crowley snapped from the bedroom. The door was shut and locked.
“We all will be, it’s meant to be funny, I’m told.”
Crowley snorted loudly. “You wearing one then?”
“Of course! And while it isn’t really visually pleasing, it is warm and comfortable.”
Crowley growled, knowing he’d lost, if even Aziraphale was wearing one. “Fine, but I pick the look of this ‘ugly sweater’.”
“Of course, darling!”
A tingle of magic was felt before Crowley opened the bedroom door.
“Oh, Crowley, really! Tartan?!”