Crowley's about to expand on the subject when Aziraphale pronounces his poncy flowery gin to be like getting punched in the throat by a fairy kingdom, and he chokes on a spray of laughter. Ah, he thinks, as he wheezes helplessly, there's the tequila. Excellent.

He laughs for far longer than the comment really deserved, shaking his head and pushing his shades up into his hair when he's finished to wipe the moisture from his eyes. Biting back another mouthful of tequila, he waves a hand.

''S like karma, innit? Or, not, not actual karma, but what like English people mean when they say karma. We got off lucky back home; left more or less to our own devices to fanny about up here, 'n then Adam Young to wave his hands and go, "I'll look after you" after we, you know, committed the ultimate treason. Would've been dragged down to Hell an' tortured, y'know, if it weren't for him. Flayed into strips, and then had the strips tortured separately.'

He's gone somewhat off topic here, and he pulls himself back to relevance with a little nose-wrinkle.

'Too lucky to last, must be. 'S just caught up with us here.'