Meanwhile, the angel Aziraphale, A.K.A Mr. Fell, was inside his used bookstore in Soho, attempting to discover how exactly one operated these newfangled ‘laptop’ devices. The model in question was terribly high tech and, in the angel’s opinion, made no sense. Naturally the shop was closed, the sign turned around. It wasn’t a big surprise to hear a car screeching to a halt outside of his bookshop, but he sighed nevertheless.

“Why do speed limits mean nothing to him?” Aziraphale asked the empty shop.