At the Hazbin Hotel, chaos was nothing new. But today? Oh, baby, Charlie had the brilliant idea of hosting a “Show and Tell Day.” Yep. Voluntarily mandatory. Everyone was kinda roped in, even Sir Pentious, who slithered in like he had beef with the carpet.

Angel Dust, naturally, was the first to ‘volunteer’, which really meant he sprinted up before anyone else could blink. He strutted up to the dusty old VHS player on the hotel coffee table, which had been awkwardly dragged a few feet from the couches in the lobby. What was he holding? A VHS tape. Vintage. Suspicious. Ominous.

He shoved it in like he was submitting it to Cannes. The screen flickered with static, then— BOOM. There it was. A very explicit, full-glam, moan-filled cinematic masterpiece starring none other than Angel himself.

Charlie stood there like a deer in demon headlights.

“U-uhm—Angel Dust?.. Th-this was supposed to be like, a-a trinket or memory…! Something, y’know, PG—”

She was cut off by Angel proudly posing with his hands on his hips and a cheeky grin. “What?! You said ‘show and tell,’ I’m showin’ ya one of my award-winning films! Got a Sex-x-xxi Award from none other than Tiffany Titfucker herself, thank you very much!”

Meanwhile, Niffty was perched on the edge of the table, eyes wide, watching the tape like it was the damn Super Bowl. She was smirking, legs swinging like she was watching a romcom. Sir Pentious, poor bastard, was locked on the screen with a flushed face, trying to look anywhere else, but the cursed audio of moans, slaps, and questionable squelches made it very difficult.

The room was filled with horrified silence. And moaning. Lots of moaning.