"Listen, if you've got a Crowley and he's a racist clown our Earths are close enough for government work." Erin looks satisfied. Not like, Deeply Satisfied (patent pending), but this makes more sense to her now at least. "My world's got little pissant hedge wizards with real power. Got hired to kill two of them and had to go through a whole fucking doctorate program to assassinate each one, it sucked, I hated it, I don't suggest it as a career choice. But hey, good news: as far as I can tell we're not currently in possession of any beings in the class you're describing." Beat. "...Currently being the key word, but the big man at the bridge presumably keeps a lid on that kind of shit. I don't think he'd tolerate fuckin' Yog-Sothoth setting up a tentacle gangbang without his permission."