Cards
La dee freakin' dah, it's my second ever Good Omens fic. This one is exactly 95 words. Take that, you fancy-pants 100-word writers! Also, my title is incredibly lame. Oh well.
Disclaimer: I don't own it. Duh.
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It had started as a perfectly innocent theological question.
In a haze of drunken speculation, Aziraphale had wondered aloud whether a coin toss between an angel and a demon would come out even after fifty rounds. Crowley, always up for a challenge and probably even more drunk than Aziraphale, said, "Coins, schmoins," and suggested they try it with cards. Upon rummaging through a hutch, Aziraphale found an exquisitely painted bassett deck from the 17th century, and they sat down to play.
After thirty-three rounds, Aziraphale had learned only that Crowley was a terribly sore loser.
