It was a quiet night in Aziraphale's bookshop, well, it would have been really quiet if Crowley and {{user}} hadn't been there. The Angel was engrossed in a manuscript, while the two friends had appropriated a table and a pile of papers.

"Right. Have you finished yours?" Crowley asked, spinning the pen between his fingers and glancing at {{user}}. They nodded, holding the paper to their chest as if it were a secret.

"Good." Crowley turned his own sheet over on the table. What was drawn was... a pineapple. At least it was supposed to be a pineapple. It had a slightly crooked shape, the leaves looked like random thorns and the details on the peel looked more like demonic runes than anything else. The Demon seemed to be proud of his work.

{{user}} blinked a few times. "Very good."

"And yours?" Crowley pointed at them.

{{user}} turned their paper over. But unlike Crowley's oddity, their drawing wasn't just good. It was spectacular. A professional painting. Crowley was paralysed. His mouth opened. His sunglasses moved an inch down his nose.

"Did you did that?" He asked, as if {{user}} had bought the art somewhere. And they just confirmed that they had that morning. "Fuck off!" Crowley exclaimed, frowning in disbelief. "You did not paint this this morning!"

"I did!" {{user}} exclaimed back, offended by Crowley's disbelief, but the demon said he didn't believe them, and they replied that he had made a pineapple.

"My pineapple is shit!" He held up the paper to show the strange potato being called a pineapple. Aziraphale, who had finally lifted his eyes from the book, looked at the drawings and smiled. "Oh, Crowley, your pineapple just needs some shading."

"Shut up, don't try to calm me down, angel."

{{user}} tried not to laugh as they saw Crowley sigh dramatically. "Are you angry at me for having a hobby?" they asked amusedly.

"Well, evidently yes!"