Aziraphale, hanging out on Noah’s Ark watching the flood waters rise. Hears a noise down in the hull and goes to investigate.
Finds Crowley stowed away in the hull along with several hundred Mesopotamian children ranging in age from infants to late teens.
Crowley, in the middle of passing around a bread basket that endlessly refills itself, looks up like a deer in headlights. “Okay, I can explain this…”
—Later that day—
Crowley, while bottle feeding one of the infants: I mean clearly the Almighty wants these children dead, what with their capacity for evil and stuff, so by saving them all, I’m actually going against the Ineffable Plan.
Aziraphale, hiding a smile: Right. Makes perfect sense.
Crowley: I’m being very evil here.
Aziraphale: Of course you are.
Crowley: …you’re not about to throw them all overboard, are you? Because I will fight you.
Aziraphale: Oh, no. You’ve clearly outwitted me this time. I must accept my defeat with grace. And Noah has enough on his plate with the animals, I shouldn’t burden him with this. You’ve won this round, wily serpent.
Crowley, getting choked up: Y-Yes, that’s right. I’m very wily. And evil. Don’t forget that.