[ Aziraphale wakes up (which is odd in itself, he notes, because he doesn't sleep) and he's surprised to be in bed alone. He sits up and for a moment tries to work out where he is; the apartment is, of course, recognisable, and it takes him a few seconds to conciously realise where he is - or, rather, who he is. Breathing a deep, angry sigh, he
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Hey forehead, meet table. Table, forehead.
Have a long groan.]
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That is exactly what I should be doing right this minute. To think I would wake up with you...
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You didn't need to kick me out of the bed either, boss.
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Well,sorry. It's not often when I wake up in bed with another man laying next to me.
Of all the people I could have switched with, it just had to be the angel.
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Maybe you would understand if you were in the same predicament as I'm in.
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[He obviously has not had his coffee yet. Grabbing his mug now and sipping it grumpily.]
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[Hmph, sulk, crossing arms.]
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[And he puts on a cheerful smile, just like Aziraphale would do. Hey, he's know the angel for over six thousand years- imitating him wasn't that hard.]
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I'm going out.
[And then he stomps out of the room and out the house. TIME TO GET DRUNK.]
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At least you're the same, my dear.
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That's so weird coming from that body with that voice.
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Well... alright.
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