If the M25-as-demonic-sigil, Agnes Nutter’s overly specific prophecies, and Heaven/Hell’s paperwork-obsessed ineffability made you grin, you’ll love the way The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy skewers galactic red tape. Arthur Dent and Ford Prefect survive planetary demolition, Vogon poetry, and an Improbability Drive with the same cheeky irreverence that fueled Aziraphale and Crowley’s quips. It’s that same delight in mocking the universe’s admin office—just with towels and a depressed robot.

If Hastur getting trapped in an answering machine, the Four Horsemen riding in as bikers, and Crowley’s cassette tapes becoming Queen had you cackling, John Dies at the End doubles down on that gleefully unholy chaos. Dave and John stumble through eldritch invasions via a reality-warping drug called “soy sauce,” battling entities like Korrok with jokes as much as weapons—very much the spirit of stopping Armageddon with a wink, a shrug, and a very bad plan.

If you enjoyed how Good Omens pits angels and demons against prophecy while questioning who actually understands the Ineffable Plan, Small Gods gives you Brutha and the god Om (stuck as a tortoise) dismantling an entire church’s certainty. Like Aziraphale and Crowley debating lunch and morality while averting Armageddon, Brutha and Om confront zealotry (hello, Vorbis) with compassion, wit, and a challenge to the machinery of faith.

If the evolving, rule-bending friendship between Aziraphale and Crowley—bickering, enabling, and ultimately choosing humanity—was your favorite thread, you’ll click with The Lives of Tao. Mild-mannered Roen Tan gets a snarky, ancient alien named Tao in his head; their oil-and-water dynamic turns into trust as Tao trains Roen for a globe-spanning conflict. It’s that same warm friction and growth you saw when an angel and a demon chose their own side: each other’s.

If you loved watching the Witchfinder Army muddle through admin while Aziraphale and Crowley race to derail the Antichrist’s big day, The Rook puts you inside the office. Myfanwy Thomas wakes with no memory, letters to herself as a guide, and a ticking mandate to unmask a traitor in the Checquy before a grotesque threat tears through London. It’s the same propulsive, save-the-world-now energy—only with memos, monsters, and very sharp umbrellas.