"What's an H-E-B?" questions Pepper from her seat next to Crowley, her head resting gently on his shoulder.
Who knew that snakes make excellent pillows? Though it is — was — only the redhead and younger woman living in the two-but-actually-three-bedroom condo, the duo essentially pressed their heads together and then compromised to go big or go home, as the tagline for Texas suggested, and purchased just about all of the extensive, pricey furniture sets in stores such as IKEA, Rooms To Go, Living Spaces, and Ashely HomeStore, to name a few. Two jaunty furnishings in the living room are the enormous 4K television mounted on the wall and the six-piece furniture set with a loveseat and ottoman. Perhaps there's an underlying significance behind purchasing such an expansive residence and loading the empty spaces with various curiosities and untraexpensive objects to fill the void of nothingness.
The sensation of nothingness, or loneliness, is an intriguing subject surrounding Anthony Jophiel Crowley. It can be endlessly discussed, no doubt; still, for the sake of this matter, there's the approach of him finally tolerating his devoted feelings and vulnerability for a curly-haired angel, only for it to all vanish by the manipulative sleight-of-hand of Heaven's entity.
Under Her master, his Fall resulted in him losing everything — his identity, his memories, his Stars, his family and friends, and his fully-functioning body, to name a few. You'd suppose that for such a detrimental Fall, he'd completed something sinful. Well, he did, if asking questions is listed in the category. Following, he'd performed constant good deeds when posing as a demon. As millennia passed, people always told him that he had a natural gift with children, animals, and plants, and, lacking self-esteem, he'd reject the commendation each time.
The masses in the living room are sitting as such: On the L-shaped couch sits Crowley in the middle, with Pepper to his right; on his left are Muriel and Warlock. On the ottoman sits Adam, Brian, and Wensleydale; Nina is lying on the loveseat, and Anathema and Maggie are sitting on the disconnected couches. Overall, it's overwhelming yet comfortable for the immortals, and much of the feeling is because the duo, primarily Crowley, are acquainted with the guests.
"H-E-B is an authentic Texas retail supermarket that offers just about anything you need. Its popularity has strongly extended over the years, even around the country. The abbreviation stands for Howard E. Butt, and I may have met him before," answers the scholarly Crowley with a shrug. His interest in human food has ascended by the slightest grade, but not enough to present indifference. Ultimately, he's a watcher; he finds contentment and temptation in observing others, especially Aziraphale, ravenously dine into their food until their bellies are strained and full. And — hold on: Does Crowley have alvinolagnia?
"Oh, this sounds delightful," claims Wensleydale. Even now, it's apparent that he's still the geek of the quartet with his big, round glasses, use of big words, and his head consumed by a book that he brought with him.
Brian adds enthusiasm to his friend's statement and declares, "Yeah, nanny, let's go. I've never had American food, so that's mainly why I want to go."
In the loveseat, Nina silently listens to the conversation while scrolling through social media on her phone. She turns her phone's screen off and rises, instructing, "Well, let's go and get some American food to cover the dust in Mr. Six Shots' kitchen."
"We don't have dust," contorts Crowley with a roll of his eyes. Privately, he's missed Nina and her saucy demeanor; she's always been adept at leveling to him with no restriction, and vice versa. Within Aziraphale's tenants, he's only been indulgent with two: Nina and Mrs. Sandwich.
[Crowley and Mrs. Sandwich's friendship is a reserved conversation for later because if you know, then you know].
Muriel rises and extends their hand to aid their friend to his room as the others remove the stacked bags from the entranceway and presumably into the third bedroom. Later, sleeping arrangements must be discussed, and sooner than later, Crowley will have to transport the Plants into his bedroom. The miracle remains active, yet he can already sense it weakening as he cautiously rambles to his bedroom; Muriel has a light, supportive hand on his back.
Finally, after what feels like forever, Crowley enters his bedroom and lazily plunges his body onto his black, satin-covered bed. He rotates and eyes Muriel as they lock the door, then proceeds to stand before him.
"I am truthful when I state that this is all new to me," comments Muriel with a nervous chuckle. Then, they firmly add, "But, if I must live on Earth, then I must accommodate to the ways of the Humans."
Crowley calmly considers them, then says with a shake of his head, "If this is too overwhelming for you, One, then I can always tell them to leave and get a hotel or something. We still don't know how they even found us here."
"No, we don't," they consent with a frown, "but we know why they're here: They said they missed you."
Crowley sighs and closes his eyes for a brief second. "Yeah, they did say that, didn't they?" he rhetorically mutters.
"Let's do Human activities with them, Crowley," asserts Muriel. "We've come this far; let's enjoy ourselves on Earth. I'm sure I'll have much to write about in my report back to Heaven."
The redhead doesn't know why he feels like he's, somehow and someway, being conned. Of course, he doesn't consider Muriel or the eight additional occupants in his home, but something else is going on either Upstairs or Downstairs.
"Alright, One. But, I'll need to do a quick stretch first, sss," he tells them with an accidental hiss. He grimaces at the snake-like action, which wasn't directed at Muriel but at the ruling entities.
"Please don't feel like you need to hide yourself," beseeches Muriel as they join their friend in his massive bed. Sometimes, the stretches are more manageable in a soft bed than on hardwood floors. They begin stretching their serpent friend from upwards to downwards, gently tugging and decompressing his tight muscles. It's far from their regular, intricate routine, but his body will feel better than it negatively did prior.
It's only been about five minutes, yet it seems like a lifetime has passed for Crowley as he goes deadweight with his eyes closed. It feels like he's floating in clouds, so close to outer-space yet far away from his Stars.
"Hey, nanny! We're ready!" informs Adam from the other side of the door. He didn't speak too loudly, though the snake felt his speech-vibration through the air and put two-and-two together.
"Give us a moment," responds the retired Angel-Demon as Muriel applies final touches to his muscle fibers and adhesions. Before exiting and entering their bedroom, the woman employs Lazari to change their friends' garments to accommodate Texas's stark weather.
Muriel exits their bedroom and broadcasts everyone the necessity of moisturizing with sunscreen. They possess product packages under their bathroom sink, so they pass around extra bottles to everyone, and all apply the product to their skin. Out the door, with a quick detour to the shoe bucket, everyone fills the big elevator that leads to the private garage where Bentley is cooly kept.
"Uh," starts Anathema with a doubtful scoff, "it's next to impossible for us to fit in your car, Mr. Crowley."
Crowley peeks at her, then does a double-take, now recognizing that she's serious. He delivers that laugh he does then snaps his fingers.
The Bentley has transformed from her original design to essentially resembling a limousine.
"I've truly missed you doing that," expresses Pepper in awe.
Maggie nudges her way to the front and excitedly displays, "Let's do this then, Mr. Crowley."