Stare at that food any harder and it's going to spontaneously combust.

[Crowley, holding a cigarette and a glass of red wine in the same hand, pauses by the table where Souji sits and gives the young man a sidelong look. They haven't seen one another in person for some time, and for the last week at least, no one has seen Crowley at all.

And no one needs to know just why that is.]

If that's something you can do. Someone knows this place is just a pick 'n' mix of freak mutations.