(Re) App Post!
Character: Anthony Crowley
Series: Good Omens
Character Age: Immortal, but appears mid-to-late twenties. Also has great cheekbones.
Job: Demon in Charge of CFUD Quality Control
Canon Description:
If there is any one grand, overreaching moral in Good Omens, it's that Apocalypses never go quite as planned...or do they? The Antichrist's been misplaced (more or less), said Antichrist's Hellhound is chasing vermin (and his tail), the Four Horsemen have decided to mount motorcycles instead of horses, and an agent of Heaven and an agent of Hell have come to the conclusion that they're fans of the mortal world and aren't too keen on seeing it come to an end, regardless of which side wins. Madcap adventures ensue, like they do, and things end up... well, the way they're supposed to. 'Cos it's ineffable. (...Yeah, don't ask.)
The agent of Hell in question is one Anthony J. Crowley. Once the original serpent in the Garden of Eden, he's now bipedal, charmingly and enthusiastically amoral, and much enamoured of the good things in life (food, booze, his Bentley, not necessarily in that order). He's slick, savvy, and, though he'll never admit it, pretty fond of people, as a whole - houseplants too, despite keeping them in a perpetual state of terror. Crowley lives an indulgent lifestyle, surrounded by nice things. An agent of Hell, he's a fan of the big picture, and employs methods his fellow demons don't quite comprehend, like traffic jams and cell-phone snafus. Life's too short to tempt one soul at a time, right?
SAMPLE POST:
Right. So I think it’s time to get down to brass tacks, as it were. I know you think you’re doing a great job here - impenetrable, sentient barrier? That’s great. Bloody genius. Huge, Kraken-like… er, squid thing? A good effort, but the poor old girl seems a bit listless. I bet she’s not instilling half the terror she did back in her salad days, am I right? Of course I am. What we’ve got here is a pansy collection of desensitised brats, and you’re going to have to crank it up a bit if you want to make an impression. Terror’s great for the soul. Works for houseplants, anyway. Same concept should apply, if you ask me.
Now, I have put together a few modest ideas to streamline and improve your operation here. You’ve got a veritable motherload of misery in your little camp - trust me on this - and you’re just sticking to the same ol, same ol. You know - showers running with blood, enormous violet primates (don’t see how that applies even remotely to Intelligent Design), amorous foliage, and the LEAST terrifying zombies I’ve seen outside of a Romero film. Try to aspire to something a bit bigger and better than a B-movie cardboard cutout! Today's zombies don't shamble and moan like one of Hollywood's A-listers coming off a bender. For Heav-- for goodn-- for crying out loud, watch a movie made sometime this century and you'll figure out what kids expect from their undead these days.
This place isn’t Hell on its best-- er, worst day though I'm not really sure anyone can really tell the difference between the two. It’s a soggy little resort with a few minor inconveniences. Stick with me, and I’ll help whip this pathetic wasteland into a place worthy of its incredibly presumptuous name, which is - let’s face it - a bit of a let-down. It’s nothing but a tease and an empty promise, and I am just the demon to get things back on track. As you can see from my resume, I know a thing or two about making people miserable. D’you think they’d make just ANYONE employee of the year over at Six Apart? Yeah, you heard me. THAT Six Apart.
Evil’s the new black, kids. And purple was never in.
Voting went here: 96.6% (omgwhut)