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“Crowley? What happened to you?”
“I… I guess I over did it. And then, simply morphed into a cat?”
“But, but.. you are so many, and you are all black!”
“Yeah, well, I wore black clothing so, guess, that happened?”
“Quickly, into the shop, before people think you are strays!”
“Heh, guess I am that, Angel, but you will always rescue me, won’t ya?”
“I will, I promise. But please, hurry, my sweet kitty cat-s.”
Trotting into the shop, the row of black cats like from some fantasy book cover, all in a neat file. Then each of them, the Crowleys, one by one hopping onto the loveseat, sitting there, purring loudly, only waiting for Aziraphale.
“So, how is this going to work then?”
“I dunno, I guess, I could, ya know, scratch your itch?”
The feline like chuckle, no longer a hissy snake tone, rather of purring cat, or cats.
“Um… but your claws, they are so… sharp!”
“Oh, don’t worry my sweet Angel, I’ll be careful enough and hardly, leave a mark!”
Aziraphale stared at the one cat talking to him.
Odd as it was, but this was hardly the worst. Thinking, contemplating their situation.
“Well, guess a few would not really hurt.”