Crowley talking about ducks

Crowley, leaning casually against a bookshelf in his angels bookshop, nonchalantly brings up the topic of ducks.

"You know, ducks are fascinating creatures, angel."

Aziraphale, glances up from his book "Ducks?.. Really?"

Crowley, smirks "Oh, absolutely. Look at them – gliding on the water, quacking like they've got the secrets of the universe."

Azi, bemused "I fail to see the cosmic significance of ducks."

Crow raises an eyebrow "Well, they waddle, don't they? Very ineffable, that waddling. A cosmic dance of sorts."

he, chuckles "I hardly think ducks have anything to do with the ineffable plan."

Crowley, grins "You're missing the point, angel. Ducks are nature's way of reminding us that even in this world, there's room for a bit of well.. spice"

"Spice, you say? Perhaps I've underestimated the profound wisdom of ducks."

Crowley talks with mock seriousness "Wise creatures, ducks. I've always said they're the philosophers of the pond."

Azi, shakes his head "Crowley, sometimes I wonder about your taste in subjects."

They stroll away "Just remember, Angel, when the world seems too absurd, there's always solace in the delightful quackery of ducks."

Aziraphale, still smiling, returns to his book as Crowley puts his sunglasses back on and saunters out, leaving the bookshop with a sort of duck-inspired vibe.

"Scarlet Warnings"

In love's delicate dance, beware the signs, Red flags flutter, warning in designs. Evasive truths and silence profound, In the shadows of doubt, whispers resound.

False promises wear a crimson hue, Deceit dances in a crimson view. A heart should flutter, not hesitate, In love's embrace, don't tempt fate.

Listen closely, to the flags so bright, They flutter boldly in love's twilight. For in their scarlet, truths unveil, Love's authentic colours never frail.

Is it just me or does young Neil Gaiman look like Linguini from Ratatouille?

Ineffable bonds

In the tapestry of time, an angel and demon twine,

Aziraphale and Crowley, a pairing so divine.

Heaven and Hell may tug, a cosmic chess,

Yet in earthly escapades, they find a caress.

A celestial bookshop, where laughter resounds,

An unlikely duo, with unlikely bounds.

Aziraphale's grace and Crowley's wily guise,

A friendship that defies, reaching for the skies.

In tea rooms and Bentley rides, their antics unfold,

A dance of opposites, a tale to be told.

Crowley's mischief, a demonic ballet,

Aziraphale's kindness, the light of the day.

Through ineffable plans and apocalyptic fears,

They stand together, through laughter and tears.

An angel and demon, their bond withstands,

The cosmos may shift, but in each other, they find.

In Good Omens' embrace, a story is spun,

Aziraphale and Crowley, forever as one.

Eternal comrades, an odd pair so true,

In the grand celestial comedy, love unfurls anew.

Crowley and Aziraphale being plant parents Crowley tilted his sunglasses down his nose, shooting Azi a sly smirk. "Love and care, angel? Really? Last time I checked, you can't sweet-talk a ficus into growing faster. They don't need nurturing; they need a bit of fire, a dash of rebellion. It's survival of the fittest out here, not a bloomin' tea party." Aziraphale crossed his arms, a look of mild exasperation on his face. "Crowley, you're missing the point entirely. These plants respond to kindness, to a gentle touch. It's about fostering life, not setting everything on fire." They raised an eyebrow, his demonic demeanor on full display. "Fostering life, you say? Well, I'll have you know, I've been fostering life for centuries. Just in a slightly different, more... unpredictable way." Aziraphale sighed, realising he was unlikely to win this argument. "Crowley, you can't possibly be comparing your methods to the delicate art of gardening. You're a..demon, for heaven's sake!" He grinned, revealing a flash of pearly teeth. "And that, my dear angel, is precisely the point. I'm not here to coddle plants; I'm here to keep things fun. Survival of the fittest, remember? Your plants might not be as pristine as mine, but no need to be so jealous angel". Aziraphale shook his head, resigned to the eternal clash of their perspectives. "Well, I suppose your plants do have a certain... uniqueness to them. But just remember, Crowley, sometimes a little love goes a long way. Even for you."