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Aziraphale pushed aside stacks of books to reveal an ancient, boxy radio. He hadn’t touched, or even really seen, the radio in decades. He had purchased it new, one of the few things he had ever purchased new, in the 1930’s. He quite enjoyed listening to radio shows for a time, but rather lost interest when his favorite show went off the air. Still, he thought it might be worth turning the old thing back on again and discovering what new and exciting programmes the humans had invented.
He flicked the switch into the ‘on’ position and static cracked through the antique speaker. Truthfully, the thing shouldn’t have worked at all. It was nearly ninty years old and had not been used in at least sixty. But, Aziraphale didn’t know that it shouldn’t work, so it did, in fact, work exactly as he believed it should. He fiddled with the tuning dial and adjusted to a station that came in clearly.
RA-RA-AH-AH-AH,
ROMA, ROMA-MA,
GAGA OOH LA LA,
WANT YOUR BAD ROMANCE.
Utter, incomprehensible nonsense blared out of the speakers at an offensive decibel. Aziraphale twiddled the dial again to a different station.
I am the egg man.
They are the egg men.
I am the walrus.
Goo goo g'joob.
This song was less objectionable than the first, but only by a very slight margin.
“What in the world?” Aziraphale stared open-mouthed and completely flabbergasted at his radio for a moment trying to comprehend the string of senseless words parading out of his radio. It sounded like it was composed by someone entirely too much time on their hands and only the vaguest understanding of the English language. With mounting horror, Aziraphale twirled the dial a third time, dreading what cacophony would assault his ears next.
All we hear is radio ga ga,
radio goo goo, radio ga ga.
All we hear is radio ga ga,
radio blah blah.
“No, no, no. We are done with this! Shutting off now! NO!” Aziraphale sputtered and scrambled to flick the power switch back into the ‘off’ position. He continued to stare, utterly horrified, at the infernal machine, as though it might come alive and asail his eardrums once more.
“Angel, what are you doing down here?” Crowley called as he came down the stairs. He emerged from the apartment above the bookshop looking comfortably disheveled. Barefooted, red hair tied back in a messy half bun, sweatpants slung low on his hips. “I heard music.”
“Music?” Aziraphale squawked. “You would call that music? Crowley, have you listened to the radio recently?”
“Yeah,” Crowley said with the barest hint of a smile. “Have you?”
“I just did! I was hoping to catch a programme, and I am shocked, appalled, even, at the rambling drivel I heard! It’s– It’s– completely gaga!”
“Lady Gaga?”
Aziraphale’s mouth popped open. His nose wrinkled and he squinted at Crowley totally dumbfounded. “What, in the name of all that is holy, is a Lady Gaga?”
Crowley suppressed a chuckle. “You wouldn’t like her.”
“I just wanted to listen to a radio programme. I have to do inventory and thought it might be nice to listen to a little story while I worked.”
“They don’t really make those anymore, angel.” Crowley said apologetically. Aziraphale looked crestfallen and Crowley quickly added, “But we can probably find old ones online.”
The angel’s face lit up. “Do you think so.”
“Definitely.” Crowley snapped his fingers and his laptop materialized in his hand. He sank into the couch in the back room and opened the computer. “What do you want me to look up first?”
“Well, there was one rather marvelous programme called The Mercury Theatre on Air.”
“Mercury… Theater… On Air.” Crowley typed the name into Google. The first hit was the company’s wikipedia, which Crowley knew wouldn’t be very much help. The second hit, however, seemed much more promising. Crowley clicked it and sure enough, the site was dedicated to the radio show and included audio recording of every episode. “Here you go, angel. Scroll and pick which one you want to listen to first.”
“Oh, my dear! This is wonderful!” Aziraphale scrolled through the list of episodes for a moment before making a delighted little noise. “Ooh! The War of the Worlds! I remember this one. It was a marvelous little science fiction story. Caused quite the stir among the humans as well if I remember.”
“I remember that one. I got a commendation for it. Hadn’t the foggiest idea what it was for when I got it. Only found out when I saw the headlines.”
Aziraphale clicked the recording and the opening music of the episode reverberated throughout the shop via the bluetooth sound system Crowley had installed when he first moved in. They stood in silence for a moment listening to the beginning of the episode. Aziraphale was a little nostalgic, and Crowley was mildly intrigued to finally listen to the infamous radio show Hell had commended him for.
“Well, those books are not going to reshelve themselves.” Aziraphale said after the episode began in earnest.
“They would if you would just use a bloody miracle.” Crowley rolled his eyes.
“It’s not as much fun!” The angel kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, my dear, I really don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Ngk.” Crowley flushed. Aziraphale floated away across the show before he could think of anything clever to say. Crowley watched with interest when his angel bent over to pick up a stack of books. There were some upsides to Aziraphale doing things the manual way, he thought as he settled back into the couch to listen to the rest of the show.