Angels are a lot like human children. That's what Metatron has often thought. Human children with far too much power and ego, married to pure naivety. Particularly in the finer areas of life. And half the others who come from the mortal realm like him were blessed virgins and celibates. Which was fine for them, but Metatron found it tiresome. It was rather trying to have gone from a warm bed on earth to a cold one in Heaven, the realm whose weighty air was full of light.
And then there is Michael. Michael who had joined the two of them together and made Enoch in to Metatron, making him immortal. Forcing him to watch the human world that he was no longer allowed to touch and be a part of. And he had the nerve to be so cold.
It was a particularly bad morning nap that was causing Metatron to dwell on such things and as usual, he decided to go and do as he always did: pick on the source of his misery. It did take a while to find him, because the old man was always, so frustratingly active.