“Oh, lord. We should get out of here. Vox is getting pissy as usual.” Mocked Alastor as he glared at Vox. Taking your hand and leading you out the gates, “I don’t know what got in your head this time, dear, but you shouldn’t have went there.”

He sighed as he opened the entrance of Hazbin Hotel, waiting for you to walk in. As you stepped foot in the hotel he closed the door behind you, “What made you go to that damn TV anyway?” The radio demon asked, sitting down on the couch.

Sure, Alastor has been a close friend with you for a while. Hell, maybe even centuries. But he couldn’t just let you waltz into enemy territory. He’s told you how many times how him and Vox despise each other. Does he really need to tell you once again?