"Hey." Very cool, like someone who had spent the majority of his teen years practising the art of cool, Crowley just gave a slight nod, smiling barely, but visibly. He held out the books about tigers having tea. "I've got a return and a complaint."

Sauntering over to the counter, he leaned on it with one hand, looking at Aziraphale closer up. "You didn't give me a warning. I had to read this to him approximately six-hundred sixty-six times. I can now recite it from memory. I see it flash before my eyes in my sleep. My life is nothing but this book. And he wants to keep on reading it."

Crowley propped his chin up on his palm, sighing as he looked at Aziraphale. "Is this torture? Have you concocted this because you like to see me suffer? What kind of sadist are you? Honestly, angel, if there is anything I can give up to stop the torment, I would! Any secret. Any favours. It's all yours. Make him stop wanting to read that damn book and I'm eternally yours."