They hadn't been able to agree on a show to see and since they could always see theatre in London, Crowley and Aziraphale had decided to take advantages of New York's great cultural opportunities.

By 3 AM they'd retreated to the top of the Empire State Building with two bottles of pre-made margaritas. "New York," said Crowley.

"New York," Aziraphale agreed. "So nice they named it after somewhere else. Like all the other places."

"The Large...Fruit. The one that's like a pear, but isn't."

"City that stays awake a lot."

"City of Lights."

"'S Paris."

"There's lights here."

"It's still Paris."

"Fine. Eternal City?"


"Fuck." The demon looked thoughtfully at New York. "So what's London?"

Aziraphale shrugged. "Why are we up here?"

"It's what you do. And you said we couldn't go to that store from that film."

"I said we'll go tomorrow."

"It is tomorrow."

"Why is this what you do?"

"You're supposed to drop money from here."


"Dunno. Maybe you make a wish. Like a fountain."

"That's stupid." Aziraphale considered his options. It was either sitting on top of a building for the rest of the night or going to that store that was in some film. "What kind of money?"

"American money. It's supposed to go an inch in the pavement."

Aziraphale stood up. "You drop the money. I'll keep the people out of the way."

The demon opened his wallet. "What should we try first? The bearded one, or the guy with bad hair?"

"Bad hair."

Crowley pulled out a twenty dollar bill and held it over the edge. "Ready?"


They watched the bill slowly flutter downwards before being blown away by a gust of wind. "Bugger."

"Try again."

"He's useless. Pick another one."

"Do you have any of the fellow who had gout?"


"He looks heavier."

Three hundred fifty-seven dollars later, they were still unimpressed. "Almighty dollar, my arse," said Crowley. "Do you have any real money?"

"Don't you."

"No. Gimme a pound."

"If it's my money, I should get to drop it."


The pound coin had a much greater impact, which they took turns saying and then giggling as if that was the greatest bon mot ever uttered. This discovery was celebrated by dropping more pound coins and several 5p pieces, accompanied by a resounding chorus of the "Can't Remember Words that Aren't in the Title" version of "Rule Britannia." By the time the cops came, they'd replaced Arne with the true music of the British Isles.

"It would be nice," said Aziraphale as they flew to a tall building that was not surrounded by searchlights and black and white cars, "if we could go somewhere without causing an international incident."

"What's the point of that?"

Meanwhile, New York's finest stared down at the gold coins imbedded in the pavement. "I don't blame 'em," muttered the officer in charge.


"I never liked those damn Sacajawea dollars either."