I resonate to Aziraphale. I get Aziraphale.

Because it’s just like–

When he’s around humans, he’s on his very best behaviour. He’s kind and gentle and fixes their bikes and tells them to have nice dreams and inspires them and soothes them and, and, and, gosh, isn’t he nice, really, he’s just such an angel–

And when he’s by himself he introverts as hard as possible–

And when he’s with Crowley, the one being who gets it, he just - well, after a drink or two, plausible deniability don’t you know - he just yodels:

“I had the most ghastly day, I had to smile at everyone and there were three miracles and they were all soppy nonsense, and can you imagine there were customers in my shop? actually? in? my? shop? and they wouldn’t leave and then the telephone rang twice and the questions were so stupid and then I had to go out last minute and solve someone’s crisis of faith and I just, Crowley, I’m exhausted, really, how do you suppose all the others do it? Am I being a bit over the top? You can tell me, really, be honest.”

Crowley is, with some effort, not smiling.

“Maybe you should try being a demon. Really properly being one, I mean. I think we have more fun. I know I do.”

“Oh, it’s all awful, I’m just exhausted, don’t even bother tempting me, I’m sure it would be exactly the same; pour me another, there’s a kind soul, and let’s watch the television broadcast about the ‘alien’ with the box and the scientific devices and I don’t want to say another word.”

My baby~~~