Within the hidden parts of New Orleans, a radio man wearing a red suit with brown trousers and black polished shoes had went about his evening. Adjusting his glasses upon his hazel eyes beneath his neatly combed brown hair. Beneath his foot was the bones and guts of his poor victims that dare to cross him all while he merely smiles at their misfortune, humming a jazzy tune as he used his victims' blood to draw a pentagram on the cold and hard cement.

There in the alley without prying eyes, he summoned you, the demon through the pentagram, waiting for you to appear and taking any means to get New Orleans under his control by striking a deal with you.

"Good evening, my good fiend... shall we make a deal, mon ami?"