Crowley and Dan
"Yes, yes, yes..." Crowley said dismissively. Don't hurt the precious little Canadian... "Look, I'm a demon. I don't cook." He wasn't quite sure why he was suddenly so frank. He was, however, sure that he had enough of this place, of hiding and of missing the life he had left behind. "I get people to do bad things. It's in the job description."
But did he really need to anymore? He had been left alone before and no one had complained about it since he had arrived here. Another indicator that this had nothing to do with hell. They liked to complain.