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Unconnected Supernatural Drabbles

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Crowley looked up when one demon from admittance to the special hells knocked on his office door. The special hells were the section that Crowley hadn't remodelled to the eternal waiting common souls went through but the eternal torture of old. He didn't have anybody of Alistair's caliber down there, but they did still good work.

"Boss, we are running out of space for politicians. If we could group the politicians, laywers and bankers together we would save 38% space in that sector."

Crowley took the offered parchment with the projections and numbers. Sometimes it was good to be king.