Aziraphale wanted to complain though. It was as plain to Crowley as anything, that after several centuries the loss of those clothing items was a terrible blow. Fortunately he could saunter over to the closet, open the door, and lean on the frame next to the perfectly well folded outfit that rested on a shelf next to a hanger containing a pristine white jacket... or nearly pristine. It would be pristine again after the water soluble paintball paint was washed off.

Anyway it was a little jewel he had discovered while rampaging around looking for a pair of scissors.