s/n: Wow, this is like, the first non-Naruto fanfiction I've written in like, years. O.o Scary!
Aziraphale and Crowley = not mine. Terry Patchett and Neil Gaiman's.
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A 1926 black Bentley speeds down the road, blaring Lady GaGa's "Love Game." Inside, a dark haired young man sings along lustily.
"Do you want love, or you want fame, let's play a love game…"
Aziraphale stares grumpily at the car radio as if it has personally insulted him.
"My dear boy," he says, voice unheard over the loud music. "Is this really necessary? Turn down the music, for Heaven's sake."
"I wanna take a ride on your disco stick—" Crowley looks up. "Sorry, Aziraphale, did you say something?" he asks in a raised voice.
The angel looks distinctly ruffled. "Turn down the radio!"
"What? Can't hear you!" Crowley calls.
He rejoins Lady GaGa: "And now I want it bad, want it bad…"
"Turn it down!"
"Speak up! Can't hear you!"
"I said, turn down the radio!" Aziraphale shouts, wrenching the volume knob violently. He glares at Crowley.
"Oi," the demon says, looking mildly insulted. "I quite liked that song."
"Well," says the vengeful angel, "I didn't." He fiddles the tuner knob of the Bentley.
"Ah, that's better," he says. "Vivaldi. And anyways, that song didn't make much sense. What, exactly is a disco stick? And why did she want to ride one so badly?"
A rather stunned silence fills the black car after this pronouncement.
Crowley lays his head on the steering wheel, and groans.
He then proceeds to tell Aziraphale exactly what a disco stick is, and how one would go about riding one.
Aziraphale can't remember the last time he blushed so hard.
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a/n: Lulz. Poor Aziraphale. Please review! :D
