Now once more possessing the space to do so, Alastor gave the skillet a shake before lifting it up, rearing his elbow back, and giving the hashbrowns a good toss. Had Angel not moved, he would've gotten elbowed in the stomach. Not a single bit of potato, onion, sausage, or spices ended up outside of the skillet. He put it back down on the burner.

"What about it?" Alastor asked calmly.

He flicked an ear to shut off the soft radio music he'd been humming along to. Nothing he could do about his internal receiver but at least he could give Angel some quiet.