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Summary
Forty years after the holy water incident, Aziraphale and Crowley still haven’t spoken. That is, until they come to on the floor of an unfamiliar cottage and are presented with a very specific conundrum by their superiors.
“Excuse me, what?” Aziraphale says.
Beelzebub stares at him like he’s stupid. “You two got a month.” They look between him and Crowley. “Yeah? One of you’s got to kill the other one, or both of you die.”
“Oh, and you can’t leave,” Gabriel says. “Equalizes the playing field. We’re really looking forward to this, you know.”
“We?”
“All of Heaven.”
“And all of Hell. So don’t muck it up, Crowley,” Beelzebub sneers.