He smiles. "I am merely a humble principality. You won't turn my head that easily, you old snake."

But he does look pleased as he takes the...garment from Crowley that he is meant to wear. God help him. And heads back to the dressing room. He's never liked modern dressing rooms, alas. Gone were the days of tailors where you could have the room to yourself, or have them come to you! Now it was just pack yourself in a tiny room and hope you fit while trying on clothes that came in array of standard sizes and none of them were the right ones, it felt like. At least he could still get tailors this day and age but they were few and far between and here? He clicked his tongue.

Oh, well. Needs must, he supposed! He hung up the dress and went to take off his coat when he realized that there was a problem.

"Bugger."

How on Earth was he to manage getting it off with his wings in the way? They were irritatingly corporeal too and no amount of concentration could make them otherwise, not even a little.

"I am not going to cut holes in this coat to get them out!" He grumbled. "Do you hear me, you cursed wizard?"

How he was supposed to do anything was beyond him.