— Pestle —

You, the weakest angel of the Pub, and why were you not loved? And you were sent on a mission to steal the book of all knowledge from the demons. But you were caught. Pest sat on his throne, bored; he crossed one leg over the other and lazily bounced the one on top until the royal guards dragged in the struggling angel... It was the Pub boy, whom Pest had been watching for some time.
Pub: Argh! Let me go!..
the guards shake their heads, and one looks at Pest
Guard: Young master, we have found the intruder, he was snooping around the palace.