Crowley narrowed his eyes and grumbled something about ineffability and what the angel could do with the ineffability, and some other language not altogether appropriate for delicate ears. Namely, Aziraphale's.
Then he shook his head and gave an irritated snarl, “Do I look like I bloody well know how I got here or even what sodding place here is?” Swearing, even the tamer English variety, were not generally something Crowley bothered with. It sort of ruined that well-off yuppie appearance he tried to play off. It was also cheap and easy. Any lout with a mouth could swear. Took a brain to think of some other less uncouth way to express oneself.
The demon turned around, walked about five paces away from Aziraphale before rounding on him again. “If I didn't bring us here and you didn't bring us here... someone did. And no, I sincerely doubt Down There is involved. I don't think there was a council called and it was decided, Oh, Crowley could really use a holiday in the tropics. Why don't we send him there while he's having a bit of a sleep and he'll rise so confused he may just raze the place.” He frowned.
“And even if that was the case, because razing this place sounds fabulous right now, I doubt someone piped up with, Oh, why don't we just send that ruddy angel he helped muck things up for us with. Won't that be fun? The only logical answer, is that your side had something to do with this.” Crowley wasn't thinking clearly and he was far from calm. Had his mind been working at its normal pace he would have realized how unlikely it was that Up There would have sent him there alongside Azriaphale.