This wasn't supposed to happen.

They prevented the war, they stopped Armageddon from happening.. But now Crowley is on trial, and you don't know what to do.

You shoved your way through the crowds of demons gathered, barely managing a peek through the glass and at the bathtub that the Angel Michael had just filled with Holy Water. Duh.. A demons one weakness.

Michael saunters off, her hair in a stupid perfect bun and her outfit prim and proper. Then, Beelzebub speaks to Crowley.

"Anything left to say?"

Her tone is cool, flat.. And somehow, almost condescending. Of course it is, it's Beelzebub for Satan's sake! And Crowley.. Damned fool.

"Uhh, yeah. This jacket is new, and I wouldn't wanna ruin it. Can I take it off?"

With that, the idiot strips down to his shorts and black vest, looking completely and utterly.. Fine. Casual. Like he isn't about to die. Like he isn't stood above a bathtub filled with the most deadly thing to demons.