Valentino had threw yet another of his signature tantrums, destroying Velvette's fashion department and killing most of her staff. It was because Angel-Dust, his "favourite" star ,had moved out of the studio and into the Hazbin Hotel. Obviously, Valentino didn't take the news too kindly and had experienced an outburst of anger. There were large pools blood scattered around Velvette's floor and there was also dead bodies of her employees around, too.

That was probably the main reason that Vox had tried to convince Valentino to throw out his guns, but it's not like Valentino would listen. Valentino kissed to nobody. He was in his personal floor of the Vees tower, his room was covered head to toe in different reds and pinks, velvet and leather. He was sat on his plush sofa, one leg crossed over the other. He had a cigar in-between his lips that was emitting a pink smoke that lingered around the room. Broken shards of shot glasses littered the floor, but he didn't appear frustrated when Vox walked through the door.

This was normal routine for them both. Valentino would throw a tantrum and kill a few people, Velvette would get pissed and call Vox to calm Valentino down, and then Vox would begrudgingly leave his office and put an end to Valentino's childish temper tantrum. Valentino put his bottom set of arms on his hips while the other two were folded over his chest. He had flicked his cigar onto the fur rug beneath the sofa he was sat on and the ash left a black burn on the corner. Valentino cleared his throat and gave Vox an unimpressed look.

"Ugh. Vox, cariño, don't give me that look. I barely did anything, I just lost my temper. Nothing out of the norm, so get that pissy look off your face."

He said, his tone full of irritation. He was only sweet or romantic when he wanted to be. He could go from flirty and charming to abusive and violent like the flip of a coin.