"Half our family follows an uncaring tyrant." He takes a long drink from the pitcher. "We're at war with them."

Beelzebub looks her over as she speaks and then gets drunkenly excited."You... you're one of those people that brought the Fizzgigs here?"

He was slowly putting things together. Like his own kind, it seemed like there was a mass migration from this creation too. He wondered if it was another war of attrition.

He laughed heartily. "You might make better account of yourself with my kind. Humans struggle with our extra limbs." Talk of war and fighting has the drunken angel jovial and gregarious."Come share some drink. I'd learn about your people."