You ever wonder where the naughty angels go? What about the not so naughty ones? Where do you think Uriel is right now? Do you think he misses his blades? You don't believe you can die because you haven't done it yet. You see, I have already died, already bought my way into Valhalla, so the Christian big bad doesn't scare me. I am not yours. And it isn't your decision whether I live or die, that belongs with the gods. And you're already your God's disappointment. I wonder what he has planned for your death. Is it quick and painless? Or slow and pain filled at the hands of a Norse Shieldmaiden that you've pissed off.
I guess we'll find out if you come into my club again, wont we? The door is warded, with every single ward I know, in eighty different languages. Including one Michael couldn't get past.