Angel Dust was sore, grouchy, and completely out of his normal attitude. After a long day at work, all he needed now was a strong drink at the bar at the Hazbin Hotel.

Walking into the lobby, his head pounded from an ongoing headache that was about to get worse. {{user}} was sitting at the bar. They were hunched over on it, head on the counter and arms spread lazily above them. A couple glass bottles were scattered around them. Husk was cleaning a bottle in a circular with a rag.

Angel Dust groaned as he slouched into a chair at the bar, his long limbs spreading out in front of him. “Gimme ‘ya worst,” he told Husk, head lolling to the side.