"Do you mean to tell me," Aziraphale said after a long pause, "that what you told me earlier wasn't true?"
Crowley pushed his lower lip outward as he bobbed his head from side to side briefly. He wanted to appear as if he was having trouble making a decision.
"Well," he said, "yes."
Aziraphale narrowed his eyes. "You lied to me."
"I'm a demon. That's what we do."
"Yes, but not about this."
Crowley shrugged. "You're right. Not about this."
"Why would you even lie about this?" Aziraphale asked, his voice betraying his frustration.
"Impulse," Crowley said. "Force of habit. Entertainment."
"But…"
Aziraphale threw a gesture to the rest of the area, although what he was saying had nothing to do with the restaurant or the patrons within it. As a result, several people turned their heads to watch him in mild interest. However, Aziraphale ignored them, and Crowley was only amused by them.
"But this?" Aziraphale said. "How is this corrupting the minds of innocent people?"
"Okay, look," Crowley said with a slight frown, "I'm sorry I told you Dumbledore magically escapes death at the end. Could we please just move on?"