"Oh, several!" Sadie agrees, beaming as Frank pecks her cheek and clinks her glass. "Do you know a Chachacat, by any chance? He's a fire demon. Adores hot dogs. And cats." How many hot-dog-and-cat-loving fire demons can there be?

And she's charmed, Crowley, truly. But rather than offer her free hand for a polite shake, she's using it to steady her husband lest he spill. "These little boats make for terribly unstable drinking," she mourns, because they're otherwise quite charming. If only they had a yacht.