Barnaby, in the meantime, had moved to the wine racks and selected a dry white at random. He wasn't really intending to get liquored up, but it was better than neat whiskey (or whatever engine fuel it was that Aziraphale had been drinking).

He peered around at the screen as he poured a couple of glasses. "I don't think I recognize most of these songs," he said, then frowned. "Like a Prayer? Concrete Angel? I don't think you can really sing along to Johnny Cash's 'God's Going to Cut You Down.'"