Lord John bites back the retort that as a matter of fact, digging in the ground with his bare hands in such a manner as he is, he resembles exactly that. It would hardly help the situation, as bizarre as it is. He supposes there must be magic involved somehow, if it really is Crowley's friend Aziraphale down there. For one, the man wouldn't be able to breathe, otherwise. For another, how in the hell would he have gotten down there in the first.

That train of thought however is quickly derailed when, seemingly out of nowhere, the dirt seems to spurt back up at them from the spot where they are digging.

Rather like a clam hole, John thinks, bewildered. This really is too much.

"Good god, man -- are you quite alright?" he asks, abandoning his shoveling for a moment to step forward and brace the other man.