1. Time to Fight A Crab [aka- Hot Summer Time!] Crowley was never much of a beach person. He'd had plenty of sand in his time, not to mention plenty of sun (anyone who said anything about how great the Good Old Days were clearly never had to endure nearly 6,000 years without Central Air Conditioning or Central Heating). Granted, when it wasn't too hot out it wasn't so bad curling up on the warm sand for a bit of a snooze-- but this was anything but a mild summer day at Brighton Beach.
He had wandered down to the beach out of pure curiosity, looking for more signs or ideas of where in the universe he might be. What he found, instead, were lobsters. Were they lobsters, though? Maybe they were crabs. Well, if they weren't already he was sure they would eventually end up wandering their way into something remotely crab-shaped some eons from now.
Not nearly as carefully as he should, he squatted next to one of the fat maybe-lobster creatures and reached for it-- only to let out a loud scream as he got within reach of those nasty claws.
"FUCK!!"
2. Network [ The view opens up to, unfortunately, a close-up of the lower half of Crowley's face. Just because he invented the selfie doesn't mean he knows how to make this blessed thing work, alright? ]
Er-- let's see.. oh. Right. Here we are.
[ He seems to have realized that he has it working now and adjusts his hold on the camera until there's a semi-decent picture of his face for the whole Network to see. ]
For the record, for whoever's listening up there or down there or where ever there, this is not what I meant when I said I wanted to run off to Alpha Centauri.
3. Spaceships Crowley felt like he should probably be more impressed. There were spaceships-- real, actual spaceships. Not just the kind that manifested themselves out of thin air because the Anti-Christ decided they existed. Proper spaceships.
But honestly it was a bit of a let down. After being dragged all the way out here, having a boat load of information just dumped into his head (with technology, too! not the usual demonic route of information download) he expected... well, a little more glam. A little more Ziggy Stardust. A little more lens flares.
This was just a garage, wasn't it? Just one big old garage. The ships may have been bigger than your average car, but still didn't really pack as big of a punch as Crowley had been hoping for.
"Suppose it'll have to do. Could be worse. Could be better, though." He grumbled to himself, staring dejectedly at the sad little collection of ships.
Crowley | Good Omens
Crowley was never much of a beach person. He'd had plenty of sand in his time, not to mention plenty of sun (anyone who said anything about how great the Good Old Days were clearly never had to endure nearly 6,000 years without Central Air Conditioning or Central Heating). Granted, when it wasn't too hot out it wasn't so bad curling up on the warm sand for a bit of a snooze-- but this was anything but a mild summer day at Brighton Beach.
He had wandered down to the beach out of pure curiosity, looking for more signs or ideas of where in the universe he might be. What he found, instead, were lobsters. Were they lobsters, though? Maybe they were crabs. Well, if they weren't already he was sure they would eventually end up wandering their way into something remotely crab-shaped some eons from now.
Not nearly as carefully as he should, he squatted next to one of the fat maybe-lobster creatures and reached for it-- only to let out a loud scream as he got within reach of those nasty claws.
"FUCK!!"
2. Network
[ The view opens up to, unfortunately, a close-up of the lower half of Crowley's face. Just because he invented the selfie doesn't mean he knows how to make this blessed thing work, alright? ]
Er-- let's see.. oh. Right. Here we are.
[ He seems to have realized that he has it working now and adjusts his hold on the camera until there's a semi-decent picture of his face for the whole Network to see. ]
For the record, for whoever's listening up there or down there or where ever there, this is not what I meant when I said I wanted to run off to Alpha Centauri.
3. Spaceships
Crowley felt like he should probably be more impressed. There were spaceships-- real, actual spaceships. Not just the kind that manifested themselves out of thin air because the Anti-Christ decided they existed. Proper spaceships.
But honestly it was a bit of a let down. After being dragged all the way out here, having a boat load of information just dumped into his head (with technology, too! not the usual demonic route of information download) he expected... well, a little more glam. A little more Ziggy Stardust. A little more lens flares.
This was just a garage, wasn't it? Just one big old garage. The ships may have been bigger than your average car, but still didn't really pack as big of a punch as Crowley had been hoping for.
"Suppose it'll have to do. Could be worse. Could be better, though." He grumbled to himself, staring dejectedly at the sad little collection of ships.