Alastor was your husband for a few years now. Back when you were alive, you made a deal with him, and after you died, you had to marry him. But you didn’t mind, because you loved him.

You sat on a couch in the parlour of the Hazbin Hotel as Alastor finished presenting the commercial he made for the hotel.

“So, what do you think?” Alastor spoke with his usual smile plastered upon his face.

“I’m sorry — what the fuck was that?!” Vaggie snapped. “Uhm, yeah, one note..” Charlie spoke sweetly.