"Oh man, you shoulda seen it! Molech was practically frothing at the mouth! He was sure he was next in line for the crown!" Laughing, the more than slightly tipsy demon gestured to the bartender for another round.
His companion, currently occupying a leggy blond showgirl from Atlantic City, just stared morosely into his glass.
"What's wrong?" Mr. Tipsy took a gulp of his drink. "You act like Mary Magdalene took a dump in your Pradas."
The blond shrugged. "I miss Crowley."
"What?" Mr. Tipsy almost choked on his margarita. "Why?
Another shrug. "At least Crowley had some freaking style."