Hastur, who had been distracted by a coin* on the floor, now turned his attention back to the scuffle between the drunken angel and Ligur. He watched the other demon with a small sense of pride, snickering at the mention of Crowley's pure shame. For once, his partner seemed to be quite capable of handling the situation by himself, and that was when Aziraphale charged with his not-so bloodcurdling battle cry. Ligur went down rather like a sack of diabolical potatoes. The taller demon stepped in closer, moving behind Aziraphale and giving him a very unsportsmanlike kick in the back.

* Which had the nerve to stick to the floor, not caring to budge.