[You'd think hell would get its minions a Verizon plan or something. After the third attempt to get through fails he all but throws the phone down, cursing to himself as he starts to shuffle through the mess on the coffee table for chalk, a pen, anything. Hey, a sliver sharpie would work, wouldn't it?

Once the table was shoved out of the way as well he's back on the floor, quickly scrawling out lines of script and awkward designs and-] Come on, Crowley....