{2008}

During a dark night, in a graveyard next to a church, two demons sprout up from the ground. One looked toad-like and the other had a chameleon on his head. They were dressed in shabby dirty clothing, and stunk of sulfur and brimstone. Their names were Hastur and Ligur, the dukes of Hell.

The two of them stood around, waiting for a third demon to arrive. The meeting they had with this demon, who has been on earth for the past 6,000 years, was very important.

"What's he calling himself nowadays?" Hastur asked his demonic companion.

"I think he's using the middle part of his original name. Calls himself Ziraph." Ligur replied, not really caring all that much.

A taxi arrives, with Ziraph sitting in the back seat.

"Stay for a bit, I shan't be too long." Ziraph politely asked the taxi driver.

He walks up the graveyard's path, carrying himself like a proper English gentleman. Standing a few feet in front of his fellow demons, Ziraph greets them each with a short nod.

"Good evening, fellows." Ziraph said, smiling with his face but not his eyes.

The demons exchange the Temptations they have performed. Hastur tempted a priest into lustful thoughts, while Ligur tempted a politician into accepting a bribe.

"And what have you accomplished, Ziraph?" Ligur asked the shorter demon.

Ziraph tells them about how he made several fast food restaurant ice cream machines suddenly stop working. The other demons were puzzled, they didn't understand how broken ice cream machines would secure souls for Hell.

"Oh, come now, think about it. When people don't get what they want, it tends to make them quite miserable. And miserable people love making others feel just as miserable as they are." Ziraph explained, annoyed by Hastur and Ligur's lack of critical thinking skills.

"Sure, it may not be as exciting as lust or greed, but wrath never really fails, now does it? Especially when it's brought upon by not having one's gluttonous needs met." he explained further.

Goodness (or badness?) knows Ziraph can get rather, in Caelumiel's words, "b**chy" when he doesn't get his sweet treats.

"Anyway, let's move on to more important business. Do you know why you've been summoned here tonight?" Hastur said, not at all caring to attempt to understand Ziraph's thought process.

"No, I'm afraid not, my wicked fellows." Ziraph replied shaking his head.

In place of an explanation, Ligur holds up a picnic basket.

"No." Ziraph gasped, feeling the strong demonic energy radiating from the basket.

He prayed, no not prayed (demons don't pray), wished, he wished that what was in the basket wasn't what he thought it was.

"Yes, it's exactly what you think it is." Ligur chuckled darkly.

"Really? N-now?" Ziraph stammered.

"Yes, isn't it wonderful? In about a decade, Armageddon will begin and the forces of Hell will triumph over Heaven." Hastur said, a smile on his warty face, exposing disgusting rotted and crooked teeth.

"Ah, yes, triumph indeed." Ziraph agreed (not really), pumping his fist into the air.

"But...surely...there's someone more...qualified to complete this very important task?" he asked, smiling nervously.

"Lord Beelzebub seems to think you're the perfect demon for the job. It's probably due to the lovely work you've done during the 20th century." Ligur answered.

"Like, for example, that stock market crash in America, I must say that was impressive." Hastur said.

"Mhm, that was definitely my work." Ziraph lied, smiling and nodding.

"It was so effective was it not? So many people losing their jobs, their homes...so many people starving and...a-and so sad, I guess that's why they called it the Great Depression, eh?" he added.

There were many things Ziraph accepted credit for that humans had done all on their own. He simply found it unnecessary to argue or correct his superiors when they would give him a commendation for something he didn't actually do.

Ziraph didn't see any way out of this situation, so he took the basket and returned to the taxi waiting for him. He muttered "oh dear" to himself repeatedly as he sat himself in the back of the taxi, setting the basket into his lap. Most demons don't usually panic, but Ziraph wasn't like most demons, he was always a bit different.

At the moment, Ziraph was panicking quite a lot. The basket's contents being the primary source of his anxiety.

"You alright there, sir?" the taxi driver asked, glancing into the rearview mirror.

"I'm absolutely...tickety boo, dear boy." Ziraph replied with a strained smile.

"So, Mr. Fell, where are you headed to ne--?" the taxi driver was saying until he suddenly went eerily quiet.

The corvid demon was about to ask if the driver was okay when the diver's head turned 180 degrees and stared right at him. The driver then began to speak, but it wasn't his voice, it was a demon's. As the demon voice gave Ziraph his instructions, the taxi began to speed up and swerve dangerously around traffic. This nearly caused the basket to fall from Ziraph's lap, but he quickly grabbed it, saving it from toppling to the floor. Hugging the basket to his chest, Ziraph takes a peek inside to check on his precious cargo.

Thankfully, the little baby inside is unharmed by the jostling. Although, it did upset the poor thing, as evident by the loud wailing he produced.

{Elsewhere}

Caelumiel was very put out right now, just plain disappointed.

"What do you mean there's no ice cream!?" Caelumiel asked, sitting in his beloved Bentley in a fast food drive-thru.

"I'm sorry, but our machine has stopped working and we can't seem to be able to fix it." the young lady at the drive-thru window told him.

"So, I can't have my root beer float?" Caelumiel pouted.

"No, sir, that won't be possible tonight. I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience." the young lady replied apologetically.

While the angel was upset that he won't be able to get the root beer float he was looking forward to, he didn't see any point in getting angry about things that are out of his, or anyone else's, control. Caelumiel could have used a miracle to fix the machine, but unfortunately, yesterday, he had been suspended from miracle usage for a week for performing too many "frivolous" miracles.

"It's all fine, love, it's not your fault. I'll just take a regular root beer, please." Caelumiel assured her, his tone calm and friendly.

"Oh, well, thank you for not yelling at me. All night people have been cross with me over this bloody machine." the young lady sighed.

"Oh no, that's awful." Caelumiel said, frowning in sympathy for the girl who can't be no older than nineteen or twenty.

She hands him his drink which he pays for and wishes her a peaceful night with no more trouble from rude customers. And if he had his miracles, he would make darn sure that wish came true.

Later on, Caelumiel is enjoying his drive through London, listening to his Queen's Greatest Hits album. That enjoyment is interrupted by the unexpected presence of Gabriel in the passenger seat, startling the Starmaker.

"Jesus, f**k!" Caelumiel gasped, swerving the car, almost hitting a pedestrian.

He gets control of the car back, recovering from the shock of Gabriel's surprise visit.

"Caelumiel, don't use such fowl language in the same breath as the son of God, you should be ashamed of yourself." Gabriel reprimanded him.

"My apologies, Gabriel. I was startled, and I guess I picked up some bad habits from being among the humans." Caelumiel said, growing quiet and shrinking in on himself.

Caelumiel tried his best to avoid being reprimanded, he really did. Because whenever he did mess up, he would be punished. Most of the time the punishment is just harsh words that cut deep and damage his self-esteem. Other times he gets these disapproving glares that make him feel so small and so useless. And in rare moments he receives a slap on the wrist...with a strap of leather. That particular punishment leaves painful welts behind that he's forced to let heal the human way...so that he learns his lesson properly.

"Well, lose that habit and do better." Gabriel said firmly.

"I will, I promise." Caelumiel mumbled timidly.

"Um, so, Gabriel, what can I do for you?" he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"Why do you consume...that?" Gabriel asked, a confused and disgusted look on his face.

His disgusted gaze was set on the cup in Caelumiel's hand.

"You mean my root beer?" Caelumiel replied, shaking his drink slightly.

The archangel nods, then a second later he furrows his brow, more confused.

"Wait a minute. Don't the humans have laws forbidding drinking and driving?" Gabriel questions.

"That's only for alcohol." Caelumiel informed him.

"But you just said you were drinking beer!?" Gabriel argued, getting a tad agitated.

"Oh no, Gabriel, you misunderstood. Root beer isn't alcohol, it's a carbonated drink. It's soda." Caelumiel hurriedly explained.

"Ah, I understand now. But still, I would never sully the temple of my celestial body with filthy fluids." Gabriel said, sticking his nose up snobbishly.

"Luckily none of that will matter anymore, seeing as all of that nonsense will be gone soon." he smiled.

Caelumiel conceals his horror as Gabriel informs him about the birth of the Antichrist. He also told him that it was Ziraph that delivered the child to the family that will raise him. That brought up a few awkward questions that Caelumiel danced around.

When Gabriel was gone, Caelumiel drives faster to get to his apartment quicker.

"This is not good. This is really not good." Caelumiel whimpered, pacing in his living room.

He pours himself some whiskey to calm his nerves. Caelumiel was scared. He didn't want the world to end, he loved earth. The parks, the ducks, the cars, the food, the alcohol, the soda, he loved it all and he didn't want to lose any of it.

Most of all, Caelumiel thought as he looked at his telescope, he didn't want to lose his stars. The stars above were Caelumiel's most prized creations, he would fall before he'd let them be destroyed.

His cellphone ringing brought him out of his panicked thoughts. Long ago, when he first purchased his smartphone, Caelumiel miracled the device to always show Ziraph's caller ID, no matter which phone the demon called from.

"Oh, my sweet dove, I'm so glad you called." Caelumiel sighed in relief, answering his phone.

"My dear? Why is your voice so shaky, are you in danger?" Ziraph asked, his worry very clear in his tone.

"I'm alright, dove." Caelumiel replied softly to ease his friend's concern.

He didn't have the time to dwell on the warmth that spread in his heart at the image of Ziraph being concerned for his safety. There was, unfortunately, more important things at hand.

"I know about the Antichrist." Caelumiel said before Ziraph could speak again.

"Oh...well...that's what I was calling to tell you, so...I guess this was quite pointless, then." Ziraph laughed, embarrassed.

"No! No, no, no. Don't say that. It's never pointless to hear from you, dove." Caelumiel frantically replied, desperate to keep the demon on the line.

"Where are you, we need to me up, we have to talk about this." he added.

"In a phone booth outside of Tadfield." Ziraph said.

"Stay where you are, I'm coming to get you. And don't even think about arguing with me about it." Caelumiel stated, grabbing his car keys, already walking out of the door.

"*sigh*....See you soon, my dear." Ziraph replied, hoping he's hiding the fondness in his voice well.

Caelumiel drove like he was an angel on a mission. Because he was on a mission, a mission to save the earth him and Ziraph love so much.