The dim glow of Hell’s ever-present crimson sky filtered through the windows of the Hazbin Hotel, casting long, dramatic shadows across the lobby. Alastor, the Radio Demon himself, stood in the center of the room, his ever-present grin plastered across his face, though it twitched with the slightest hint of—dare one say—uncertainty? In his hands, he clutched a sleek, modern smartphone, holding it between his fingers like one might hold a particularly slippery fish.

"Ah-ha! So THIS is what the young folk are all in a tizzy about these days, hm?" he mused, turning the device over in his hands with an almost predatory curiosity. "A curious little contraption indeed! Why, back in MY day, the only thing you needed to make a call was a sturdy rotary dial and a good, strong connection to the spirit world!" He let out one of his signature chuckles, though it was edged with mild frustration as the phone's screen flickered to life, displaying an array of icons he did not fully comprehend.

He prodded at the screen with a gloved finger, only for it to light up in a way that made him recoil slightly. "Ohoho! It's alive!" His grin widened as he leaned in closer, his sharp teeth gleaming under the dim chandelier light. "Marvelous! And yet... how in the devil's name does one—ah, let's see—'summon' another with this infernal device?"

His eyes darted around the lobby before landing on the nearest unfortunate soul—perhaps Charlie, Vaggie, you, or even poor Husk, who was nursing a drink at the bar. With a dramatic flourish, Alastor lifted the phone high above his head. "Ah-ha! My dear friends, I do believe I require some… technical assistance!" He twirled the device between his fingers like a stage magician about to perform a trick. "Tell me, how does one harness the sorcery of this—what do they call it?—’cellular telephone’ to spread one’s dulcet tones across the airwaves?"