Crowley was doing his usual work one Tuesday morning down in Hell's most blood covered chamber. It was covered in blood, and other bodily fluids due to its notoriety among the lesser Demons for being a great place to get BIZAY, because it was Crowley's favourite torture chamber.

All Hell's chamber came equipped with chains, sharp and dull metal implements, and sound-proofed walls, but this one was the best because of several reasons: it was the perfect shape for screams to echo in, there was no draught to give him the chills (not that the king of Hell gets chilled, he's too damn hot for that), and due to its frequent usage, it held the special aroma of success that could never be recreated.

He breathed in as his victim, a young man who had been creating havoc on Earth by attempting to be a soul salesman, shat himself for the fourth time that session. "Taco?" Crowley asked him, pizza wheel paused mid-air.

"Burrito." The man replied, then Crowley brought down the razor sharp pizza wheel, drawing a sad Pepe into his chest. The human wriggled and writhed, jogging Crowley and turning Sad Pepe into a Happy Pepe. This made Crowley angry, NO ONE COCKS UP MY ART WORK!

In a rage, he grabbed Abbadon's Justin Beaver Albums and shoved them down the man's throat, "Eat shit." He told the man as he left the room.

After he had become king, there had been a lot of things to clear up, Abbadon's possessions, Abbadon's lasting impression, and Abbadon's disciples. It had taken awhile to shift much of this crap and the only thing left were the Justin Beaver Albums, which even a salesman like Crowley couldn't sell. But finally he had found a use for them, one that involved his favourite hobby as well!

Suit and tie Demon came to tell Crowley that his audience had been requested in the throne room. Disgruntled with his morning so far, Crowley dismissed this demon and apparated to where he was needed. A look of surprise crossed his features when he saw his mother looking poised and glowing with malicious intent which she covered up with a Maternal Foundation.

"Fergus." She acknowledged.

"Mother, whatever you want just say it: I have business to do." This was said with an aura of calm nonchalance but in reality his mind was working overtime, analising everything about the situation and becoming very confuzzled when he could not, for the death of him, work out why she was here.

"Well, I know we didn't part on the best of terms, but I thought we could at least be civilised when we next saw eachother."

"Like I said I'm busy." Crowley said, getting right aggy now.

"Yes, buying and selling souls, torturing the weak, allowing your demons to get away with petty crime, and let's not forget protecting the Winchesters." While a smile had been plastered on her face, one could sense the disdain in her voice.

"Mother, why are you here?"

"Fine, I'm trying to make a conversation here. Am I not allowed to be a wee bit nervous?" Crowley's eyebrows shot up, his mother was never nervous. "I...we came to ask for your blessing on our marriage. It would have been rude not to tell you ourselves and you were the closest thing to holy we could find after the angel Castiel rejected our partnership."

"Oh,"Crowley tried to sound light and unbothered but deep down he was shitting himself, "and who is this unlucky person?"

"Honey, you can come in now!" she shouted at the door.

Crowley watched the door in anticipation as Sam Winchester appeared, his hulking figure tip toeing towards them under the scrutiny of the king. He reached Rowena and they shared a long and passionate kiss, involving a lot of groping, mainly enacted by his mother. He felt his heart and stomach drop, and the need to be sick arose when they parted and Sam looked at him properly for the first time in months, Rowena's lipstick tainting his perfect lips blood red, reminding Crowley of the times they shared.

"Crowley." Sam smiled a genuine, albeit restricted smile.

"Moose."Crowley replied, feeling like the flood was about to happen from the pricking of his eyes.

"Who's your daddy now, Fergus?"