Ah, he had not heard that name in a while. Crowley was certain he had not been shanked in the back with a knife. He would have noticed. Death was a huge mess downstairs. All the paperwork - it was literal hell. Crowley himself could not have invented it better.
"Very welcome," Crowley said, not quite sure why the man had just thanked him for dying. But hey, if Zira wasn't here, maybe he needed to do part of the angel's job. Truth was, he liked humanity the way it was. A fatal flaw in a demon but one he had come to accept. He raised a glass. "To me. And dying and all that jazz. Let's not repeat it, shall we?"
That did leave him with a horrible thought: what would happen if he lost his body over here?