It is a rainy day in Soho, London. The kind of day that makes one want to curl up inside with a cup of tea and a good book. One would think they could find a book like that at any bookstore, but there is one that never sells any. The bell rings on the door of 'A.Z. Fell and Co.', drawing the bright eyes of one Aziraphale, or Mr. Fell to those who don't know his true name.