Crowley knew he shouldn't have given the Winchesters his Snapchat.
It was just humiliating, wandering around hell, with his iPhone hanging off his finger.
Moose didn't put his brain to good enough use.
With a mind like that and enough demon juice in him, the moose would be a formidable opponent.
But wait, that had already happened, and it had only ending up with the two brothers being even more dependent on each other.
And now Crowley was stuck here at his desk, a demon trap on his phone screen, finger attached.
God, he hated them.
At least it was only ten seconds long for each picture.
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Crowley poked his phone screen with displeasure. And bam! His finger was stuck again.
Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
Six.
Would the phone resist the pull of Tartarus? It was the deepest part of Hell, and would drag you in like a magnet and paperclip.
Crowley ambled out to his balcony and leaned over the railing, stretching his arm out to dangle over the Pit.
Wait how long had the picture been on?
The phone detached from his finger and slowly fell into the pit, accompanied by several beep's as Moose sent yet more Devil Traps.
How had he gotten mixed up with these peasants again?