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villainny, on the occasion of it being too difficult to send her *actual* eggs
It had taken *work*. Not hard work, admittedly, but it added up over the centuries. Crowley had a part in everything from the gentle support of a liberal and slightly drunken* interpretation of the metaphors of birth, to the invention of cheap, flavourless, mass produced chocolate - as well as a substantial investment in gold foil, because humans were as ever distracted by something shiny.
And he even got a minor commendation, back a few years, for nurturing decadence on this most holy of days. He almost would have considered it worth the effort, except he never got the chance to gloat to the angel. Crowley had been waiting for decades for the opportunity, casually running into Aziraphale around the end of March, casually inviting him for drinks, casually tempting him into conversation... but Aziraphale never brought it up.
Finally, Crowley decided Aziraphale was obviously too embarrassed by Crowley's clear victory in this matter, and he'd have to mention it himself. Crowley leaned across the restaurant table and changed the subject to something with almost the same number** of syllables as commercialization. Aziraphale nodded proudly and said, Yes, and wasn't good to see so many more people happy on Easter? Especially those who didn't have religious reasons to celebrate.
Crowley scowled at his glass of cognac, suspecting that somewhere he had been had. When he took another sip, it tasted bitter.
The next morning Crowley awoke alone, feeling bleary eyed and vaguely hollow. He ran his hands across his face a couple times and then reached for his sunglasses, frowning when his fingers hit something round and smooth.
Crowley pushed himself up and looked. Clustered behind the dark shades of his glasses was a handful of gold-wrapped chocolate eggs.
*It was, afterward, the only way to explain why the rabbits.
**It might be fair entertainment to hear commercialization pronounced by someone with a lisp, but they'd have nothing on a drunken serpent.
villainny, on the occasion of it being too difficult to send her *actual* eggsIt had taken *work*. Not hard work, admittedly, but it added up over the centuries. Crowley had a part in everything from the gentle support of a liberal and slightly drunken* interpretation of the metaphors of birth, to the invention of cheap, flavourless, mass produced chocolate - as well as a substantial investment in gold foil, because humans were as ever distracted by something shiny.
And he even got a minor commendation, back a few years, for nurturing decadence on this most holy of days. He almost would have considered it worth the effort, except he never got the chance to gloat to the angel. Crowley had been waiting for decades for the opportunity, casually running into Aziraphale around the end of March, casually inviting him for drinks, casually tempting him into conversation... but Aziraphale never brought it up.
Finally, Crowley decided Aziraphale was obviously too embarrassed by Crowley's clear victory in this matter, and he'd have to mention it himself. Crowley leaned across the restaurant table and changed the subject to something with almost the same number** of syllables as commercialization. Aziraphale nodded proudly and said, Yes, and wasn't good to see so many more people happy on Easter? Especially those who didn't have religious reasons to celebrate.
Crowley scowled at his glass of cognac, suspecting that somewhere he had been had. When he took another sip, it tasted bitter.
The next morning Crowley awoke alone, feeling bleary eyed and vaguely hollow. He ran his hands across his face a couple times and then reached for his sunglasses, frowning when his fingers hit something round and smooth.
Crowley pushed himself up and looked. Clustered behind the dark shades of his glasses was a handful of gold-wrapped chocolate eggs.
*It was, afterward, the only way to explain why the rabbits.
**It might be fair entertainment to hear commercialization pronounced by someone with a lisp, but they'd have nothing on a drunken serpent.