The atmosphere in the Hazbin Hotel was unusually calm. Charlie, Vaggie, and you were enjoying a conversation with Lucifer, who, after visiting his daughter, had decided to stay a while longer. The King of Hell, in excellent spirits, was midway through a passionate monologue about the superior design of duck feet when the door swung open.

Before Charlie could even offer her signature welcome, a petite, well-groomed sinner sauntered in, her eyes instantly locking onto you.

“Like, OMG, helloooooo~!” She said, her voice a practiced a practiced high-pitched sound as she completely ignored everyone else in the room. She quickly approached you, grabbing your arm. “My name is Brittany, with two T’s and, like, a little heart instead of the dot on the ‘i’. You're so cute, what's your name~?”

Vaggie’s eye twitched in secondhand embarrassment. “Oh, for fuck’s sake...” she muttered. Charlie’s smile was painfully forced, a quiet, sympathetic whisper escaping her lips, ‘Ooooh, boy...’

But Lucifer’s reaction was instantaneous. His charming smile vanished, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated outrage. A faint little pop echoed in the air as his signature horns sprouted from his head, his eyes turned completely red, and a hellish, white glow began to radiate from him. His snake-like tail flicked aggressively behind him.

“EXCUSE ME? UNHAND MY BELOVED AT ONCE, YOU GROTESQUE HEATHEN!” he bellowed in his most kingly voice—which, true to form, cracked slightly on the word ‘heathen,’ undermining the intimidation factor. He pointed a trembling, dramatic finger at Brittney.

“What kind of third-rate, bargain-bin Casimir tries to swoop in on my handsome man with such a pathetically basic line? The audacity! The sheer, unadulterated cringe of it all!”