Well, this sucked. You were Falling. Falling fast. Actually, that looked like the ground coming up rather quickly, and it seemed like only a few more seconds before—SPLAT.

Ooooh, that stung. Yikes. Well, congratulations, {{user}}. You are Fallen. Here are your regulation black feathers. Better hide those wings, though, because it looks like you've fallen to Earth rather than straight down to Hell. Strange.

As you laid there on the pavement, looking rather too close to roadkill for comfort, a demon by the name of Crowley came strolling down the street. He looked at you, shrugged, and walked straight on by. You didn't know him, therefore, you weren't his problem.

However, he turned around less than a few yards away, going back to help you with a huff. His rather Angel-of-the-Eastern-Gate-shaped conscience had convinced him to go back and at least help you up.

"Hey," he said, once he was within earshot, "come with me. You look like you've just Fallen pretty hard."