Crowley stared at the cookie for a long moment before he took it gingerly. He wasn't much of a fan of food unless he made it himself -- hunters had a nasty tendency of putting salt and holy water in everything. But once his fingers didn't burn or react negatively, he relaxed an iota, before rolling his eyes.

"Gabriel will eat anything that will give anyone type two diabetes, he's worse than Paula Deen with butter," Crowley scoffed to himself, breaking the cookie in half, the glass mysteriously gone from his hand now. "And cupcakes of the future have nothing on mine of the present."

Whether or not Crowley was serious, the world will never know.

Spoiler Alert: He was totally fucking serious.