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Everyone had secrets. Heck, Angel had enough skeletons in his closet to make those guys in the British Museum jealous. So why would he care about what anyone else kept to themself? No biggie. Except...
"Just what is that guy's deal!?"
"Oink?" Fat Nuggets offered an inquiring noise with a tilt of his piggy head.
"You know who." All of Angel's arms gestured frantically to illustrate his point, "Alastor of course! Walking around like he's sooo much better than all of us. Like a... Like a—"
"Oink?"
"Yeah! That!" He pointed triumphantly. "Mannnn I'd love to take him down just a peg or two. Just one good knock. Preferably without dying."
Cause that was the real kicker wasn't it? Even if he managed to pull one over on The Radio Demon, or uncovered even the tiniest iota of new info, there was no questioning what'd happen next. Alastor would create a Double Hell just to throw Angel into it as its only resident.
However...if he actually pulled this off...
Maybe he was a bit too hungover, or maybe he was seeking a new distraction from whatever fresh hell awaited him tomorrow, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. He had to find a crack behind that sharp-toothed smile. Cause maybe there was a chance that...
'No way in hell!' He shook his head out of that line of thought. First, he needed a plan. Over the next few days he tried to think of something, anything that might have a chance of success. And all for nothing. Well he was more a man of action anyway (wink, wink), so all he had to do was just wait for the perfect opportunity, or eventually say screw it and go find someone else to fuck with. Who knew an opportunity would actually show up.
Alastor's cane was laid across the table all by itself. Like it was waiting there just for him. It was the perfect chance! Maybe he could cover it in glue and get a good laugh when Alastor tried to pick it up. But...something wasn't right here. It was too perfect. He couldn't ever remember ever seeing it out of Alastor's hands. This had to be a trap. Common sense told him to turn around and bolt back to his room. Drink himself into a stupor until he completely forgot about this whole stupid idea. But the other half of his brain had other ideas. He was never going to get another chance like this. What was the harm in trying?
He cautiously reached out towards the cane and slowly wrapped a hand around it. He didn't even dare to breathe as he lifted it. Handling it so gingerly like it was a bomb set to explode at any moment. Only when he finally raised it to eye level, did he momentarily forgot his caution. Up close the cane was beautiful. Sleek and polished, he had never held anything that felt so elegant in his life.
Then a black mist began to pour out of the cane.
"Oh hell!" he quickly dropped it, frantically waving his arms to clear the spreading smoke and prayed to whatever god that might listen that the stuff wasn't poisonous.
The only response was an eerie, all too familiar, laughing and a voice that sent chills down his spine.
"Oh I give you an 'A' for effort' there. Too bad! But do please try again! Ahahaha."
The bastard apparently had set it as a prank! Well. Angel knew how to play this game, and one day he was gonna win.