"Take your feather back and get out of my hospital room. Oh, right, take him with you." Schiller pointed at Constantine.
Constantine and Lucifer both froze, then they heard Schiller raise his voice. "You keep calling yourselves my friends. Where were you when I was dying?"
"Now that I'm awake, you two come into my hospital room and chatter on endlessly. Ten minutes ago, I was still lying in the ER, not knowing whether I'd live or die. The moment I woke up, you wanted me to get back to work. In that case, I have the right to quit, don't I?"
"What did you just say? You want to give the feather back to me???" Lucifer looked Schiller over in surprise. "Looks like you really did hit your head. Why did you suddenly come to your senses?"
"I take back what I said earlier. I have no special interest in a feather that isn't much better than a goose feather. I won't put it in my study either, because that would have no class at all."
Schiller scrutinized Lucifer with a critical gaze and said, "Even if it were the whole pair of wings, I'd have no interest. That isn't the kind of gray I like. If I put them in my trophy case, my friends would laugh at me for being cliché."
Constantine watched Lucifer's face darken. He stretched both hands out between them and said, "No, wait, Schiller, have you lost your mind? Why are you insulting him for no reason?"
"Uh... Lucifer, don't be angry. Maybe he doesn't know. Schiller, wings are taboo for Angels, like human hairstyles. You can't say their wings are ugly. That's an insult."
"Oh, really? Then why don't you take a look at your own hairstyle?" Schiller turned to Constantine again