"Yes, well, you know. They are trying this minimalist thing. And usually we all sit at the table, with some candles, to talk and all but I wasn't allowed to leave my room so it's been quite... chilly." So cold that his fingers seized up and he had to spend most of his evenings in the dark, under the covers, curled up into a very sad little ball. "You, erm, you adapt. It's surprising, actually."

"It's a lot nicer at the flat. We got like 21.5 degrees pretty consistently and no mould, no dripping walls neither." Bill boasted playfully as he leaned back in his seat. Well, he had never been in such a good situation, he wanted to show off.

"Yes, well, that is very nice." Aziraphale looked at Crowley and then smiled sheepishly. "It's not all as bad as it sounds, I promise. They just wanted me to reflect and repent. It's, uh, it's very normal. I was never in danger, to be clear."