Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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Chapter 1: There and Back Again
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—Gravity Falls, OR; Mystery Shack; Late July 2027—

Deep in the forests of the rustic Oregonian town of Gravity Falls, lies the dilapidated tourist trap known as the Mystery Shack. By day, tourists and locals alike flock here to look at the knickiest Knick-knacks since the days of P.T. Barnum; or simply to beat the sweltering heat of the Pacific Northwestern summer sun.

But right now, it’s after hours and a very special announcement is about to be made that could potentially change the lives of the Pines found family forever.

For you see, Dipper and Pacifica Pines are expecting their first child, and they’re holding the baby shower tonight. Everyone was talking, laughing; all around having a great time, when Dipper clinked his glass to gather everyone’s attention.
“Hey, everyone, quiet down. Now, before we reveal the baby’s name, I just wanted to say how grateful we are that you guys could be here for such a momentous occasion.” He told the crowd, which consisted of Grunkles Stan and Ford, Soos, Melody, Wendy and her Palisman, a beaver named Lumber), Candy, Grenda, Marius, McGucket, Gideon, and, of course, Mabel standing directly by their side.
“Yeah. My absolutely dorky husband and sister-in-law were the first real friends I ever made.” Pacifica continued for him. “If those two hadn’t come along all those years ago , who knows where I’d be today…”
At the thought of that, she couldn’t help but shudder. After the wedding, Paz had pretty much cut her parents out of her life, preferring the company of her new family instead. She was going to become the best mother she could possibly and break the cycle of scum, villainy and abuse she had been born into.
At that moment, Pacifica found her train of thought being derailed by Mabel interjecting to get the big name reveal underway.

“Well, with that, let’s get to it, everyone. Mabel, if you’ll do the honors…” Dipper said to his sister, passing off the envelope with his little girl’s name inside to her as the metaphorical drumroll.

“You got it, Dipping sauce.” She began, undoing the seal holding it shut, and pulling it out.

But, just before the name on the little slip of paper could be read, the brown haired twins were warped out of the room in a flash of light.
Shocked, confused, and understandably freaked out, everyone called out all at once, fruitlessly and in vain.

“Kids?”
“Guys?
“Dudes?”
“Honey?”
“Mabel?”
“Dipper?”

Pacifica, as carefully as she could, what with the baby girl she had inside her, made her way up to Ford, slightly panicked.
“Could this have been the work of Bill?” She asked the elderly paranormal researcher
“No… but that's impossible! Bill’s been dead for 15 years. Unless…”
“What? What is it, Ford?” Stan inquired to his brother
“Both of you, follow me. I’ll have to tell you this in private.”

——Los Angeles, CA——

Meanwhile, back in California, Anne Savisa Boonchuy was just getting done with work on the day after her 21st birthday. The day before had been a hell of a roller coaster for her. She, Sasha and Marcy had gone out to celebrate with a couple of drinks, and next thing she knows: BOOM! They’ve made the leap from childhood girlfriends to official girlfriends. Hard to believe how far they’d come since the viewings; which, for them, had been eight years ago. Sometimes she couldn’t help but wonder how Luz and the Twins were doing; what they were getting up to lately.
But as the work day came to a close, she focused on getting through the routine she went through every day: close up the terrariums, turn off the lights, and shut the doors.
But as she left the Aquarium, she noticed something weird. Something that looked like it could be found in Gravity Falls, or maybe on the Boiling Isles. Actually, it looked pretty demonic, if she had to be honest.
The creature in question appeared to be a small black and white cyclopean cat which, except for that little detail, sort of reminded her of Domino.
And it was staring right at her with that single eye. Almost as if it was calling to her.
At that moment, the space in front of her warped into a field of white emptiness, leading to seemingly nowhere.
She looked to see the cat coaxing her to enter it.
Instantaneously, Anne felt her field of vision begin to be engulfed by a field of white washing over her as she stepped through the portal.

——Gravesfield, CT———
On the other side of the country from where the other two incidents occurred, in a small New England town, in a little coffee shop in the downtown area, a young couple was enjoying some much-needed time together. Between their shared stress from cramming for their classes at the University of Wild Magic, Amity’s apprenticeship with Lilith, and just general busyness in their schedules, they hadn’t had much time for just one another.
That, and lately, they’d both been having thoughts about the friends they’d made during that little impromptu watch party they’d been pulled into a while ago. Luz and Amity just couldn’t keep it out of their minds, ever since they’d regained their memories of that span of time. But after having it inside for years, they just couldn’t keep it in anymore.
“You know something, Batata?” Amity asked Luz
“You don’t need to tell me, Amity. I’ve been thinking about them a lot lately, too.”

The human/witch couple had been wanting to catch up with the others; unfortunately, life got in the way, and despite remembering the series of events they went through together, they didn’t say anything, but those thoughts were still there.

Little did either one know, that reunion was coming sooner than they knew.

Because right at that moment, out of the corner of her eye, Luz spotted a black and white cat with a single eye staring at her perched on a tree branch outside the window. Amity saw her girlfriend gawking slack-jawed in awe at the fantastical feline, and quickly found herself doing the same.
Quickly, almost instantaneously, they found themselves bolting up, grabbing their bags, as well as Ghost and Stringbean, and racing to the door. Just as they slammed the door open, the cat ran off and, like Alice of legend following the white rabbit, a chase ensued.
It led them all the way back to the house with the Collector’s portal door, but when they got there, and thought that they’d caught up with it, it had seemingly disappeared, with a small black key with a heart on the top in its place. That, and instead of the door being pink with a star on it, it now resembled Eda’s original with a shining blue aura around it.
“Amity? Are you seeing this?”
“Luz, what the Titan is happening?!”
“I don’t know, but something tells me we should find out!”
“Hold up, Luz! Something about this seems… well, it just feels off, I just can’t put my finger on it.”
Luz looked over to her girlfriend, and for a moment, pondered that she had a point. She did have a habit of rushing into situations without thinking sometimes.
But on the other hand, if she hadn’t done that in a certain situation years ago, she never would have met her Sweet Potato, and changed both their lives forever.
“But, what’s life without a few risks?” She countered, with that soliciting a smile from Amity.
“Well, then, in that case, you lead the way, Luzura.” The pink haired young woman playfully teased with a small bow.
“But, I will remind you that as your girlfriend, it’s my job to keep you safe, and yours to do the same.”
“You got it, Batata.” Luz promised with a peck to her cheek.
And with that out of the way, they passed through the door, with a blast of white light engulfing the surrounding scenery as they did.

——The In-Between Realm———

In a pitch-black void, Dipper and Mabel found themselves awakening from a sleep they hadn’t realized they had entered. Groaning, the twins began to regain their bearings as light began to fill the void and they could get a better handle on where they were.

It was mostly dark, but speckled with small stars everywhere, giving off the impression of a plot of space. The floor, now that they were able to get a better look at it, seemed to be a liquid of some kind, which shimmered with a sheen like oil mixed with water. All around them, lining the air around them, were small amorphous cubes which looked like they were made of the same material as the space around them. Whatever this place was, they couldn’t deny that it was beautiful.

It was then that they noticed someone off to the side of the “room”. Three, in fact. And they all looked way too familiar.
One was a brown skinned woman wearing a green shirt and tan shorts. Her distinctive bushy hair was put up in a ponytail by a scrunchie with leaves on it. Around her neck, hung an Aquarium of the Pacific employee ID tag. They recognized her as one Anne Savisa Boonchuy.

Just beside her, laid a couple consisting of two young women. The first was tan-skinned in complexion with golden brown eyes and a small scar through her left eyebrow and the her dark brown hair was shorter and curlier than memory portrayed it, but it was still recognizable to the twins. She wore a dark purple jacket with a snake design with the sleeves rolled up with a striped purple and lilac shirt, baggy yellow pants,
Around her neck, she wore an eclipse necklace.
The other had pale skin, golden eyes, and the distinctive pointed ears of a Boiling Isles witch.
Her cotton candy colored hair was held up in a ponytail, and both of them now sported a small tattoo of a cardinal on their left forearm.
The pair was easily recognized as Luz Noceda and Amity Blight, due to them being the only interspecies same-sex couple they knew.

The trio in question was picking themselves up off the floor and was also gaining a bearing of their newfound surroundings.

Either way, while they all had been imagining this moment for a while, they never thought they’d see them again under circumstances like these.

“Ugh…are you okay, Anne?”
“Yeah…wait, Luz? Amity?!”

“Yeah. It’s good to see you, Anne. It sure has been a while.” Luz said as she enveloped her in a hug, before it dawned on her that a certain pair of twins they knew was currently across the way from them.

“Dipper! Mabel!

“Uh, Mabel? Is that…Anne, Luz and Amity?”

“Yeah, it is! Hey, guys, over here! It’s us!” Mabel shouted to them as she quickly made her way over to them, before tackling her kindred spirit from across America in a powerful glomp that nearly knocked them over, had a small abomination not broken their fall.

“Careful, you two.” Amity laughed, “We don’t want you guys dying when we’ve only just gotten back together.”

Dipper, having just joined the group, quickly processed what the abomination user had just said, suddenly remembered something from the viewings where they had all met, and his skin crawled slightly, before he asked “Wait a minute. Amity, did you say ‘dying’?”

“Yeah. Why?” She responded, before realizing where exactly this place was. She had meant it jokingly, but that sudden realization hit her like a truck.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Anne looked his way.
“Dipper, are you saying that… She gasped in realization.
“Oh, my Frog! Are we dead?!”

Just as quickly as she said this, Dipper began to hyperventilate.

“No!” He began to break down, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks. “No, no! I can’t be dead yet! I have to see Pacifica give birth, and my daughter needs her father in her life!”

At that, they heard a small chuckle.. but this was an unfamiliar one.
Unlike the giggle of the star child Luz and Amity knew, the voice it belonged to was slightly deeper.

“Oh, don’t worry, Mason. You’ll get to see your daughter grow up. You and your friends just have to do a little something first.” The voice spoke in a booming octave that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere.

“How do you know Dipper’s real name?” Anne asked the voice with understandable apprehension in her own.

Amity, on the other hand, went into full protective mode. She shouted out into the void, hoping whoever brought them here would show themself.

“Look, I don’t know who you think you are, but if you think you can just kidnap me and my friends for some sick, twisted game, you are sorely mistaken, buddy! I know you’re here! Who are you? What are you? Where are you?! Where are WE?!?”

“Whoa! Whoa. Chill. And, please. One question at a time, please, Miss Blight. If you’ll let me, all your queries will be answered. But I can assure you, that I don’t mean you any harm. And, sorry that all this is happening so suddenly. I’ll just give a quick second to catch up, okay? Take as much time as you need.”

“Okay.”

“So, uh…well, this is awkward. I mean, where do we even start?”

“I think I know. Dipper, what exactly did you mean by ‘watch your daughter grow up’?” Anne asked

Dipper took a breath and let it out. “Well, that’s actually a funny story,” He started, “but to sum it up…” he stopped before holding up his left hand, which had a small gold ring on its third finger.

Anne stared it down for a quick moment, before a loud high-pitched squeal emanated from the Thai-American woman.
“Dipper, that’s amazing! Tell me, who’s the special girl lucky enough to become Mrs. Pines?”

“Well, you might not believe it, but that special girl would be Pacifica.”

At that, she squealed louder.

“And not only that, but she's currently pregnant with the most beautiful baby in ours, or any world!” Mabel added just as excitedly

“What?! That’s just…wow!” Luz gushed “When we get back, you tell her how happy I am for you guys.”

“I’ll be sure to do that, Luz.”

“Speaking of relationships, guess who I just started dating?”

“Let me guess; not that I really need to.”

“That’s right, guys! Sashannarcy is official!”

“Sashannarcy?”

“Yeah. It’s like a ship name I came up with for us. What do you think?”

At the news, it was Mabel’s turn to squeal in joy.

“I’ll take that as a sign of approval.” Anne quipped, before she found herself being enveloped into another group hug, this time including the Pines twins.

At the sight, Amity couldn’t help but smirk with pride for her fellow reformed mean girls finding themselves in love.

“But wait… there is something that I need to bring up about all this.” Anne said as the hug released

“What’s that?” Dipper asked her

“Well, this might seem a little out of nowhere, but hear me out. I was getting out of work, and I saw a small one-eyed cat sitting just outside in the parking lot. Anyway, a blank white portal opened up in front of it, almost beckoning to me. Long story short, the last thing I remember was stepping through it, and the next thing I knew, I just woke up here.” Anne told him

“No way! We saw a cat just like the one you described!” Luz said “Maybe they’re connected somehow?”

“I’ll take that as my cue to re-enter the scene.” The mysterious voice spoke once more.

“WHOA!” Luz jumped at the reminder of their mysterious host’s existence “Agh…oh… I…completely forgot you were there.” She breathed out as she clutched her heart from the shock.

“Heh. Sorry, Lois.”

“It’s Luz.”

“Right. Whatever.”

At that, a small cloud of pink smoke materialized in front of the group, and out from it, came a creature unlike any of them had seen before. He reminded Luz of the Superior Kai from the Dragon Claw franchise.
He was a small blue-skinned man with pointed ears and white hair tied up in the back with a small tuft in the front, two small braids on both sides of his head, and what appeared to be a small orange gem in the middle of his forehead.
He wore a purple robe with orange trim, an orange cape, and a necklace laced with green pearls.

“Okay. I think that should be long enough.” The man said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. “Now that you’re all caught up, I can finally tell you why I brought you here.”

“First things first, I’m Mr. Mxyzptlk, but if that’s too much of a mouthful, or if you have trouble pronouncing that, you can call me Mxy. And I will be your host for the little show that's about to begin.” He announced, as a lavish font spelling out his name appeared behind him.

“Now, as I’m sure you already know, your adventures, as well as those as many other individuals across the multiverse, are, in another world, presented as mere entertainment unbeknownst to the residents of that reality.”

“Yes, we already know this. Who cares?” Amity groused

“Well, for starters, anyone who hasn’t read the original fic before reading this one.” Mxy told her, before whispering off to the side to seemingly no one:
“But, surely, you must have read it, otherwise you probably wouldn’t be here”.

After snickering to himself at his own joke, the interdimensional imp continued.

“Now, where was I? Oh, yeah.
As for how I know your real name, Mr. Pines, let’s just say, that like a certain top-hatted triangle you may remember, I know LOTS of things. And I mean LOTS OF THINGS.
As for our whereabouts, nowhere, anywhere and everywhere all at once. A space between the worlds where the material, the ethereal, and the spiritual intersect. Sort of an In-Between Realm, if you will.”

“Speaking of which, due to recent revelations in the other world, it has been revealed that the afterlife is for real in your universe.”

Mabel’s eyes briefly widened and sparkled at the reveal, while around her, her friends were basically acting like this was just an average Tuesday for them, because it kind of was. And for the twins, it literally was.

“Yeah…given that most of us have died at least once in the past, that’s not too surprising.” Anne deadpanningly replied

“Yeah, you got me there.” Mxy conceded, before clarifying: “But technically, the afterlives you briefly visited weren’t those of your Earth’s.”

This piqued their interest/curiosity, and especially Amity’s. To learn that the Human Realm had its own afterlife was fascinating, and added a new layer of intrigue to their situation.

A brief moment of silence later, and Mabel asked the next question:

“So, uh…sorry if this comes off as a bit of a doozy, but which religion and/or mythology got it right about what comes next, so to speak?”

“A great question, Shooting Star. And one with a bit of an interesting answer.” Mxyzptlk said, before stopping for a second to take a breath, before letting it all out at once:
“You see, technically, while all the major pantheons, as well as a few minor ones, do exist, the predominant post-death planes belong to the Abrahamic/Judeo-Christian crowd. Or as most of you probably know them, Heaven and Hell.”

“So you’re saying that the Bad Place is real?!” Luz shouted

“ Yeah. And the Good Place. And every other place in between.” Mxy nonchalantly revealed

“Whoa. So that means that the rumors/theories about the sightings of an Owl Girl in LA are at least partially true. Yes!”

Dipper got out his Journal, and began to jot down this new information about their universe, when suddenly, out of nowhere, a cat fitting the description of the one Luz and Anne described earlier rubbed against his sister’s leg, emitting a soft, almost silky-sounding purr as Mabel bent down to pick it up.

“Well, hello there, kitty. And who might you be?”
She said to it, before noticing the name on its collar tag.
Curious, she decided to read it out:

“KeeKee”

“Well, that solves that mystery.” Luz said “But whose cat is this?”

“Well, we did have one, but she died a few years ago, and we can assume that Domino is most likely back on Earth.” Mabel said

“Wait. There’s something written on the back of her tag.” Anne said, taking KeeKee from Mabel and reading it aloud:

‘If found, please return to the Hazbin Hotel, 666 Morningstar Hill, Pentagram City.’

“A hotel?” Amity queried, “Well, that's interesting.”

“Yeah.” Anne agreed, before putting two and two together.

“Wait. 666? Morningstar? Pentagram?!”

“So, basically, what this means is that this thing is from Hell?” Luz asked

“Ding, ding, ding! You got one right, kid!” Mxy half-sarcastically congratulated

“Awesome.” She breathed

“But that still doesn’t explain why there are hotels in Hell. Isn’t the whole point that it’s forever?
Dipper asked

“Yeah, and who would want to visit?” Mabel joked.

Mxy looked to be in thought for a second, before explaining, but not really:

“Well that’s a bit of a long story. Like, ‘back to the dawn of creation’ long. It’ll be explained once we get there.”
He pulled a watch out of nowhere, and stopped to look at it.
“Speaking of, we’re running a little behind schedule with all this exposition.
So, pardon my language, but let’s fucking go!”

When he finished, he proceeded to open a portal beneath their feet, before telling them, a little too fast for them to process:

“I may have forgotten to tell youthismaybealittleviolenthopethat’snotaproblemherewegooooo!!!!”

“Wait, what was tha-AHHHHH!!!”

“Hehehe…this is going to be fun.” Mxy thought to himself before following them through.

—Hazbin Hotel, Morningstar Hill, Pentagram City, Pride Ring, Hell—

Princess Charlie Morningstar was having a pretty good day. Approximately three months had passed since the Exorcists assault on the Hotel, and, though they had lost Sir Pentious and Dazzle in the battle, they had rebuilt the Hotel bigger and better, with the backing of two extra Overlords and her relationship with her father had been significantly rekindled. On top of that, she was planning on finally proposing to Vaggie.

But on the other hand, Charlie was still being ghosted by her mother; while seven years isn’t that long when you’re over 200 years old, for most of that time, she had always been a little bit closer with Lilith, so it felt longer than it probably would have otherwise.

At the moment, Angel was down in his room relaxing, Vaggie was handling paperwork, Niffty was on another one of her furious cleaning binges, Husk was manning the bar, and Cherri was currently at her apartment, packing to officially move in.

As for Alastor, he’d been up in his tower doing who knows what for the past few days. To be honest, she was starting to get a little worried.

But overall, Charlie was feeling pretty much on top of the world. Right now, she was just laying in bed, taking advantage of everyone else doing their own thing to just relax and snuggle with Razzle, which the little baphomet appreciated.

Suddenly, the princess felt the entirety of the Hotel shake violently, and then three seconds later heard the sound of a wooden table splintering coming from downstairs.

“Well, Razzle. I guess we’ll have to do this another time.” Charlie told Razzle, who baa’d in disappointment.

“But I want you to go downstairs and make sure everything’s okay.” She told him as she got out of bed and put her suit’s jacket on.

“Baa” Razzle ‘said’ with a salute before flying out of the room and down the stairs.

Approximately five seconds later, Charlie heard Niffty screaming, followed by Frank. Internally freaking out, she dashed down the stairs as quickly as possible.

But she was not prepared for what she would find when she finally got to the parlor.

Humans.

Like actual, living humans. To be more specific, one man and four women, one of them with pointier ears than the others, which she assumed was due to a genetic deformity she had read about but couldn’t remember the name of at the moment because she was too busy internally geeking out!

Although she had never met a human that wasn’t already dead before now, she always saw something special about them due to the fact that they could choose their own fate, thanks to her parents' gift of free will.
****
“Ugh…ohhh…” Dipper groaned as he opened his eyes to find himself, his sister and their friends in a pile on the floor of what he assumed was the ‘hotel’ that that Mxyzptlk character had told them about.

“Talk about your rough landings, huh?” he heard a small feminine voice say to him. He looked in the direction it came from, only to find a small, one-eyed, red-haired woman, about the height of a small child, and a creature that looked like a giant chicken egg with a face, which was wearing a little pinstriped suit, standing right above him, staring him directly in the face.

At this unexpected sight, he understandably let out a rather high-pitched:

“AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!”

to which she let one out in return, followed by the egg doing the same.

This got the attention of everyone else, who quickly got off of each other, Luz, Anne and Amity slightly blushing.

A few moments later, a small, reddish dragon-winged goat wearing a small suit flew into the room; which didn’t go unnoticed by Luz.

Before Dipper or the goat-dragon thing had time to process it, the little guy found himself being scooped up into a tackle-hug with an:

“AY, QUE LINDO!”

While Amity was trying to calm her girlfriend down from her cuteness overload, Dipper had a problem of his own, in that the cyclops woman was now clinging to him so hard that he was having trouble getting her off of him, while Mabel was trying in vain to help her brother peel her off.

“GET HER OFF! GET HER OFF! GET HER OFF!!”
“I’m trying, Dipper! She’s just too slippery!”

With all of her friends currently distracted in the chaos, Anne was the only one to notice someone new enter the room.
A young woman who looked to be in about her early 20s. She was wearing a red tuxedo, and had a stunning head of blonde hair; nothing against Sasha or Pacifica, but hers had an almost golden sheen to it, just incredible to behold.
Oddly though, her skin was stark white, she had a pair of rather pronounced canines, a doglike snout instead of a nose, and her cheeks had a seemingly permanent blush effect on them, which quickly clued her in that she wasn’t exactly human.

In response to her almost supernatural level of cuteness, and the abysmal first impression they were giving off, she buried her face into her hands and sat down on the couch.

****
“Babe, what’s all that noise? Is everything okay-?” Vaggie asked just before her eyes (well, eye) widened in shock at the scene in front of her: the tan-skinned woman currently had Razzle wrapped tightly in a massive hug, whereas he was struggling desperately to escape her grip, the paler one who looked like she had Stahl’s ears trying to talk her down, Niffty clinging to the man, the brown haired girl trying to get her off of him, the bushy-haired woman looking embarrassed at the scene with her face buried in her hands;
and her girlfriend standing almost catatonically at it all.

“Husk, what the fuck is happening?” She asked the winged cat man.

“Long story short, chaos.” He replied bluntly

“Well, I’m ending it…” She said as she got out her spear.

“Don’t worry, Vagatha. I got this.” She heard whispered in her ear.

“Angel, lo juro por dios, I told you…” Vaggie began, before turning around to see that somehow, in the two minutes she had been away from the commotion, it had been completely diffused.

“You’re welcome. “ she heard, which caused her to jump and turn around, spear at the ready.
When she did, she found its tip up against some sort of floating blue man with pointed ears and white hair.
…Wait, what?!

“Whoa-ho-ho! Ma’am, please, put down the spear!” He said before saying to himself:

“Man, I haven’t had an introduction go this awry since I had that door slammed in my face.”

“Uhh..” Charlie continued droning, reminding everyone of her presence.

“Right. Forgot about her. Heh.” He said, snapping his fingers, which immediately brought her out of her trance.

Just then, Angel walked in.

“Hey, what the hell’s going on down here? It sounded like the entire Doomsday District had been shoved into-” he stopped when he finally saw the humans for himself

“Are those…”

“Yes”. Everyone present said all at once

“So, uh…well, this is…awkward.” Mxyzptlk stammered out
“Now, if you’ll excuse us for so suddenly ‘dropping in’ on you, Your Highness, I'd like to have you all get acquainted, so we can get started on your show.”

Before their host could give them the go-ahead to officially get introduced, Mabel took the initiative and jumped in to do so herself (or at least tried to, because she was so excited that she was going almost a mile at half a minute):

“OmigoshhimynameisMabelthisisLuzitssonicetomeetyoupleasetelluseverythingaboutyourselfhellandyourhotelpreferablyinexcruciatinguncomfortableandveryspecificdetail!”

“Uhh…could you repeat the last part?”

“Which last part?”

“Oh, everything after ‘My name is Mabel.’”

At that, Luz stepped up to take over the introductions with a stifled giggle.

“Uh, hi. Sorry about that. My friend here can get a little bit excitable at times.
Anyways, my name’s Luz Noceda. The girl you just met is Mabel. The guy back there is her brother, Dipper. The one with the hair is Anne.
And this…”

she stopped to go back and drag Amity over

“…is Amity. She’s my girlfriend.”

“You like girls?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Cause so do I! Ah! We have so much in common! Put her there!” She squeed before wrapping Amity in an almost bone-crushing hug

“Wow. I really am my father’s daughter.” She said quietly to herself after putting her back down

“By the way, I heard our host call you ‘Your Highness’. What’s that about?”

“Oh. Sorry. You didn’t get my name yet. Princess Charlie Morningstar, at your service.”

“Wow. A princess. So, do we, you know, bow or anything?”

“Not if you don’t want to. I’m not really one for all the formalities. And, please, you can just call me Charlie.”

“Will do. Your hotel’s awesome, by the way. Love the overall vibe it gives off. Real rustic, old-timey charm to it.”

“Thanks. I like you already.”

“Look, guys! We’re already friends with the princess!” Luz said to Amity and Mabel, who had come over

“I know, right? So cool!”

“By the way, this is my girlfriend, Vaggie.”
‘But hopefully not for too much longer.’ Charlie thought

Mabel was quick to notice the large red ‘X’ over Vaggie’s left eye, and was quick to ask about it.

“Mabel!! You don’t just ask someone about something like that! She’s probably sensitive about it!” Amity whispered through gritted teeth.

“No, no. It’s fine. She didn’t know.” Vaggie assured her
“But yeah, I am a little sensitive about it.”
….

While the demons, humans and witch were getting acquainted, Dipper took Anne aside to discuss his thoughts on the current matter.

“Hey, Anne. So, uh, I think we should talk about that Charlie girl.”

“What about her, Dipper?”

“It’s just that, she seems a little too nice for someone who’s literally a demon. And in my experiences, whenever a demon comes off as polite or affable, it’s always a facade to get what they want.”

“I get where you’re coming from.
But we should at least take it with a grain of salt, in the off-chance that she’s being genuine.”

Their conversation was cut short when they saw the other three girls wave them over.

When they rejoined the group, they were quickly introduced, from one couple to the other.

“And let me introduce you to the rest of our staff.”
Charlie said as she motioned to each of them.

“The cat man is our concierge slash bartender, Husk.”

“Hey.”

“The spider demon is our main patient, Angel Dust.”

“Hey, hot stuff. How ya doin’?” He said seductively to Dipper

“Sorry. But he’s happily married.” Mabel told him proudly

“Eh, it was worth a shot.” Angel shrugged “Wait. I’m curious, though. You gotta picture?”

Dipper proceeded to pull out a picture of Pacifica from his wallet. Angel blinked at the image in surprise

“Holy fuck, dude! You landed THAT?!”

“Yep,” he sighed happily as he stared at it in a daze.

“How?”

“Don’t ask us. We have no idea”, His twin teased.
“She’s still WAY out of his league

“She’s pretty,” Niffty said in awe.

“Thanks.” Dipper beamed from the compliment, before adding happily,
“She’s also pregnant.”

“Damn. Kudos to you, kid,” Husk praised.

“Yeah, way to go, man!” Angel also praised. The others gave him a weird look “What? I may be gay, but the Bro Code still applies.”

“The Bro Code?” Anne and Vaggie questioned.

“Whenever one guy gets lucky like this, other guys support him.”

“It’s true. The Bro Code trumps all other reactions,” Husk said simply and fist bumped Angel as the two gave Dipper thumbs up.

“Ugh, men.” Anne groaned.

“Typical”, Vaggie rolled her eye.

“Anyways, you’ve already met Niffty. She’s our maid and cook.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“And, of course, there’s our main sponsor, Alastor. But lately, he’s been a little preoccupied. Otherwise, I’m sure he'd like to meet you.”

As if on cue, a dark shadow materialized in front of the group, before solidifying into a tall, rather imposing man dressed in his own red suit, with a monocle over his right eye, and carrying a long microphone-like cane.

“Oh, great! Here he is now!
Dipper, Mabel, Anne, Luz, Amity, this is…”
“Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you all! Quite a pleasure.” He finished in a tinny voice that sounded like it was coming out of an old-fashioned radio.

“And as for me, well… I’m simply grateful to be your host for the presentation. But you can call me Mxy. Just don’t call me late for dinner. You get it? Ha!”

“What do you mean by ‘presentation’?” Angel inquired, providing air quotes with all four of his arms on the last word

“Basically, way out in the far reaches of the multiverse, is an Earth that unwittingly watches events in all the others through the various media they consume.”

“In your case, as well as theirs, they come in the form of a cartoon. One which we will be watching.”

“What?”, Alastor asked flatly, with the smallest trace of fury seeping out

“You heard me, Bambi. A TV show. As in, the medium you hate oh, so much.”

“A TV show, huh? Well, I always wanted to break into television.” Angel mused

“Call me ‘Bambi’ again, and you might just find yourself making an appearance on my show
S̷͇̈́O̶̫͖͙̠̎̆̆͒̇M̶̡̞͇͑̈́̀͐͝Ȅ̴̫̐̅T̸̛̟͕͇̫̎̕Ǐ̸̢̠͔̱̲M̷̡͖̺̽͘Ḙ̶̡̋́̀́͘ Q̷̟͂̈́̇̀͠U̴̘̿̾̃̆͠ͅI̷̡̪̞͈̅T̸̖̭͙͖̟̆̍͊̈̄È̶̞̋̐̎͆ ̸̛̝͙͚̫̤͗̒̀S̴͖̈́Ó̴̩̼̩͚̥̈́O̷̲͕̎N̴̡̛͇̿̔̋.”

“I’d like to see you try, Crimson Breath.”

“Okay!” Charlie shouted to stop their little tiff
So…Mxy, was it? Why don’t you continue with what you were saying?”

“Oh, of course.” He said, without taking his eyes off of Alastor’s.
“Better yet, why don’t I show you instead? Hold still, everyone. This may tickle a bit.”
With that, another fingersnap ensued, and in almost an instant, a plethora of images flashed before the eyes of the HazFam, whilst in their ears, they heard an uncomfortable electronic ringing.
And then, just as quickly as it started it was done.

“What….the fuck…..was that?”, Husk asked

“Just a quick broad strokes mental recap to save us all the trouble of having to rewatch the other three shows.
“I mean, can you imagine going through all that again? Especially since there’s already another story covering all that.”

“So, basically, in addition to a whole town on Earth that’s full of all kinds of weird shit, there’s also an entire universe filled with amphibian people, and another that’s home to magic, witches and an entirely different subset of demons?” Charlie pondered

“Yeah. Basically.”

“I mean, that explains the ears, I guess.” Vaggie added

“I SO need to go up there now! I mean, I’ve been wanting to forever, but now I want to do it even more! Ah!” She squeed

“Hey. If you ever do that, I should hook you up with my friend, Gus. He could tell you SO much about humans; kind of a niche of his.”

“Hmm. You know,I can’t place it, but something about that salamander king guy seems vaguely familiar.” Husk said

At that, Mxy coughed.

Then out of the corner of his black eye, Angel took notice of something that wasn’t there anymore.

“Uh, hey guys? Where’d the TV go?” he queried

“Oh, that reminds me. I also took the liberty of upgrading your audio-visual entertainment equipment for the show.” Mxyzptlk added

“What do you mean? I don’t see anything.”

“Well, as is traditional of the genre, we’re going LARGE and WIDE!” He declared dramatically as the wall lit up, seats rose from the floor, and a massive fanfare blasted from it.

“Okay, this is starting to make me nostalgic.” Anne said wistfully “Are you guys feeling it, too?”

“Yeah.”
“Yep.”
“Totally.”
“Absolutely.”

“Well, don’t just stand there. Go make yourselves comfortable!”

Which they proceeded to do. In some cases, a little too comfortable.

Angel was messing with the vibrate feature on the chairs, and enjoying it way too much for the others liking, while Husk was letting out an uncharacteristic purring.

“Ooohhhh, yeeaaahhhh.” Angel moaned orgasmically as everyone else took their seats.

“Uh, Angel, I would really appreciate it if you didn’t do that again.” Charlie said uncomfortably.

“Eh. Can’t guarantee it, toots.”

“Okay, now that everyone is seated, let me explain how we’re going to do this.”

After a quick clearing of his throat, he continued:

“Now, unlike your living guests, the pilot of your narrative, as presented in the other world, doesn’t stem from the same dimension as the rest of the series.”

“Say what now?”

“Well, you see, you live on Earth-467; and where we’ll be pulling the pilot from is a parallel plane designated Earth-35L. Or as I like to call it, for a couple of reasons, the “Pilotverse”. Basically, what happened over there happened approximately the same over here.”

“Oh. And a fair warning: at certain points, more sparingly than our predecessor, I’ll do the honors of bringing in a few special guests for certain episodes.”

“Sure. Anything to get this over with sooner rather than later.” Alastor grumbled.

“Okay. Now that everything is situated and settled, let’s get started.” Mxy said with a cracking of his knuckles.

And then with a snap, it began.

Chapter Text

—————————————————————
Chapter 2: That’s Entertainment
———————————————————

And with a snap, it began.

Well, not before Mxy overheard the rather disturbing voicemails on Angel’s phone in his head:

“Angel, baby, come home. It’s not the same without you here. I miss you, come back-”

“ANGEL, YOU BITCH!! IF YOU DON’T COME HOME, YOU’LL BE FUCKING GREASY TRUCKERS FOR THE NEXT YEAR!!!”

“Hey, amorcito, I didn’t mean to yell, but you know how crazy you make me.”

“YOU FUCKING SLUT!!!!”

“Hey, Angie. About earlier…”

“-KILL YOUR WHOLE FUCKING FAMILY!!!”

“Work’s really stressful.”

“-LITTLE COCKSUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!!”

“Well, that’s gonna drive me nuts.” He grumbled, before manifesting the phone into his hand. He then proceeded to pull up a message that Val really didn’t want Angel to know about:

“ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO BLOCK ME? ARE YOU FUCKING RET-?!?”

“Yeah. I’m sure. We can’t afford any distractions, especially from guys like you. Brrr.”

And with that, he proceeded to press ‘Yes’.

After he gave the phone back to its owner, Angel stared blankly for a moment, before stammering out in shock:
“Wait…did you just…?

“Yep. And before you ask, we should be fine. It’s not like he’s gonna get all pissy or anything.”

—Vee Tower, Entertainment District, Pentagram City, Pride Ring, Hell—

“FUCK!!” Valentino, Angel’s boss, screeched furiously at the little notification he had just received five seconds ago. “That son of a BITCH!!”

“Now, Val. Remember what we talked about…” his on-again, off-again boyfriend and fellow Overlord, the flatscreen-headed Vox, warily stammered out while he tried to avoid everything being thrown his way.
“Let’s not do anything rash. Just tell me what’s got you so upset this time.”

“Angel Dust…” the moth demon sneered. “That little prick has gone too far this time. First, he moves out, then he has to go and stand up to me! And now, he has the fucking GALL to BLOCK ME!!!!” He screeched

“I don’t know… I don’t know how he did it, but when I see that whore again; oh, he’s gonna PAY!!!”

****

“Yeah. We should totally be fine. Now, where were we? Oh, that’s right. Let’s get started:”

Old Film Countdown

****

Hazbin Hotel

Episode 0/Pilot

“That’s Entertainment”

****
(The pilot begins by depicting a humanoid figure falling amongst shades of gray, eyes drawn into the background— as a soft melody plays, a rainbow shoots up whilst a beautiful voice sings the classic vaudeville tune ‘I’m Always Chasing Rainbows.’)

(Next, we’re shown a female figure-Charlie *Magne* being told off by her father, Lucifer.)

(The camera pans over to where Lucifer was pointing, which shows Pentagram City being circled by Exorcist Angels, followed by Lucifer’s shadow looming over Charlie’s small figure before a black mass of tentacles engulfs the screen.)

“Honestly, I was not expecting to start off this way, but I’m totally not complaining, because these silhouettes are just beautiful.” Luz remarked

(Next, a rotating globe is shown, surrounded by dozens of all-seeing eyes.)

“Well, that’s not totally disturbing.” Anne commented, before shuddering at the implications that the image initiated in her mind.

(The camera pans up to reveal a group of rather ironically demonic looking angels, or Exorcists, standing before a pile of corpses.
The scene fades out around the mask and halo of the one in the center.)

(The scene transitions to Pentagram City, the capital of the Pride Ring, in the aftermath of the Extermination. Corpses litter the streets, angelic spears pierce the ground, and all around bloodshed, death and chaos reign supreme. Graffiti reading ‘Fuck You Heaven’, and signs with the words ‘Punishment’ and ‘Your Days are Numbered’ can be spotted in the background.)

(Finally, we get our first real look at our protagonist-well, this world’s version of her, anyway; as she makes her way out to her balcony, and proceeds to blast fireworks into the air to signal that the cleanse is over.
Meanwhile, demons apathetically proceed to move on with their afterlife, acting as if nothing had happened.)

Upon witnessing the level of destruction and desolation that Hell seemingly underwent on a seemingly regular basis, they couldn’t help but feel a little twinge of sympathy, which, while not surprising for Luz or Amity, given their experience with demons, came as more than a little bit more of a shock for Dipper, Mabel, and to little bit of a lesser extent, Anne.

“So, is this sort of thing…normal for you?” Anne swallowed, her voice catching in her throat.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Charlie confirmed with a heavy resigned sigh laced into her words, genuinely taken aback that someone seemed to care, much less a *human*. The stories her father told her of human prejudice and demonization, their abuse of the free will he had given them from all his time as King of Hell, and his occasional trips to Earth via summonings and the like. “But why would you care?” The question was laced with genuine confusion,

“I don’t know.” Luz admitted, a sympathetic smile playing on her lips. “I guess I’m just lucky in my experience with demons, and I just don’t like seeing others in general distress.”

“Plus, whatever this… looks really bad. And I don’t think anyone deserves this.”

(Arms dealer Carmilla Carmine throws open the curtains of her stronghold with a dramatic flourish, while behind her, the Shakespearean Spider Sinner Zestial takes a sip from his cup of tea.
Elsewhere, in the Entertainment District’s ring-famous Porn Studios, headquarters of the Vees; Velvette- or rather, Velvet- takes a selfie with her colleague Vox, while Valentino takes a moment to exasperatedly text his ‘employee’.)

“‘Porn Studios’? Excuse me?” Amity sputtered incredulously at the sheer promptness of the name.

“Well, I guess there’s no need to hide what you’re doing when it’s in Hell.” Luz theorized to her sweet potato.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

(In Cannibal Town, Carmilla’s daughters, Clara and Odette remove an angelic spear from one of the bodies lying around, while just above, the unofficial head of the neighborhood, Rosie crosses out the name of her former business partner from the sign above their shop.)

“Some of these guys look incredible. Are we going to be seeing any of them later?” Mabel wondered, intrigue seeping through her words.

(A corpse is picked apart by a scavenger while across the pentagram, sinners of all sorts return to their regularly scheduled afterlives)

“Seriously, why is the song making me feel? There’s something more that I’m missing, I swear. I just can’t place it exactly.” Dipper puzzled internally.

(Back up on her balcony, Charlie turns to look at the clock tower in tears, as the countdown to the next cleanse resets, an ever-present mocking reminder of their potential double-demise in another year.)

“So…remember how you asked about a hotel in Hell, Mr. Pines? Mxy asked Dipper, breaking him out of his trance. “Well, all that blood, death and violence is half the answer.”

“I mean, it still doesn’t tell us much.” Dipper responded.

“Oh, don’t worry. You’ll get the why to go with your how in short order. Just keep watching.”

With that, Dipper found himself feeling conflicted on whether his current state of apprehension was justified or not, but for the time being, he decided he’d wait until he had ample enough proof before passing judgment.

————————————————————————

(As the clock tower chimes, a freshly dead arrival falls to the ground. He picks himself up, inspects his new body-)
“Huh?” “I’m alive! I’M ALIVE!!!”
*SPLAT!*
(-and immediately gets run over.)

“Ooh.” Mabel winced in sympathy. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry about him.” Angel reassured her. “Except for angelic steel, we’re basically immortal. So he should be fine by now.”

(The car’s door opens, and out steps part-time mobster, part-time porn star, full-time promiscuous spider-demon, Anthony “Angel Dust” Marciano, fresh off a job.)

“ANGEL!!!” Vaggie yelled his way. “I thought you said you were going clean!”

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t have a choice! Val was in one of his money-grubbing moods, and he said he didn't care about E-Day, if it meant a little more change in his pocket!” Angel argued back “You know how he gets!”

At that, Vaggie looked down, mentally conceding that he had a point.
Ever since Charlie had told her what had happened after she went to talk to him, and how poorly it had gone, she felt more sympathetic to his plight. Even more so since seeing him stand up to Val during the trial in Heaven.

“Well, if anything, it’s certainly one way to survive an Extermination, I guess.” Charlie mused

(While his stand thanks him for the “fun time”, Angel tells him to keep it to himself that he’s sleeping with random sinners, and that if anyone asks, tell them this was a “quick cash grab”.)

“Whatever you say, slut!”

(With mock offense, Angel tells him if he’s going to insult him, the least he can do is think of something creative, and demonstrates by calling him a “sack of poorly packaged horse shit!”)

“Wow. That’s pretty hardcore.” Mabel breathed, slightly impressed, but also slightly taken aback by the rather indelicate language being used.

“And that one’s one of the more mild ones I’ve thrown out over the years. Y’know, if you want, I could teach you some of my more creative insults.” Angel offered.

Mabel stopped to think it over for a second, before responding:

“I’ll consider it…”

“Tell the missus I said hi, shnuckums!”

(He tries to fire back, but unable to come up with anything, drives off defeated.)

(Once he leaves, Angel notices a vending machine advertising hard drugs behind him, and proceeds to buy a bag of his namesake.)

(But before he can enjoy it, a random passerby swipes it.)

“Oh, my God!”

“Oh, Angel, I knew you had a little empathy even then!” Charlie praised

“MY DRUGS!! DAMMIT!”

“And there it is.” she deadpanned

“Well, this is me from several months ago, so…”

(Looking up, we see a steampunk-esque zeppelin raining havoc down from the sky.)

“Okay, while I’m a little on edge about this whole place, I will admit that THAT is pretty cool!” Amity fangirled at the sight.
“I mean, how is that thing even staying in the air?! The amount of metal in its design should be increasing the amount of drag substantially, and yet, it’s still remaining airborne!”

“Well, it’s…” Angel began before stopping in realization. “Actually, I don’t know. That’s a pretty good question…”

And he was right. Despite him living in the same building for months, and having fought each other for years beforehand, he’d never thought about how that thing worked. And he’d probably never get to, considering…

“Wow, Ames. I never took you for an aircraft connoisseur.” Luz laughed, amused.

“Well, I don’t need to tell you about ALL my hobbies, do I, Luz?” Amity playfully teased.
“But if you want me to, I’ll tell you about it during the break.” She promised before giving her sweet potato a quick peck and laying her head on her shoulder.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Hotel crew watched the scene with a collective look of melancholy on their faces, knowing what had happened.
It felt unnatural how in the span of six months, Sir Pentious had gone from this, to single-handedly attempting to take on Adam himself, a move that cost him his life, but still, it was admirable how far he had come. If only they could see him now.

(Zooming in, we get a better view of the crew of this fine marvel of engineering: a snake-like demon in a Victorian-era suit and stovetop hat, and a bunch of little egg-like creatures wearing similar suits and hats. These are, respectively, wannabe Overlord and gadgeteer genius extraordinaire, Sir Pentious, and his loyal henchmen, the Egg Boiz.)

“Hey! It’s Boss!” Frank piped up, reminding the humans of his presence.
“Hi, Boss!” He said while waving enthusiastically at the screen.

Vaggie sighed at having to go through this conversation again. “Frank, he died, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. Right. I forgot.”

While that conversation was going on, Mabel took issue with something else.

“Wait, he has a name?” She said to herself puzzledly.

Frank looked down at the floor sadly at those words.

(Sir Pentious boasts about how no one dares to take him on, due to how unstoppable his machines are, and also about how great he is. The Egg Boiz compliment him, while he looks at them in annoyance.)

(He continues on with his monologue, stating that at the rate he’s going, he’ll have taken over a good portion of Pentagram City by the end of the day, and that when he does, no one will be able to stop him, and that everyone will know the name of Sir-)
“DICKLORD!!!”

“Wait, what? Who was that?” Anne asked

“Oh-ho-ho! This should be good!” Angel laughed, knowing full well what was about to go down.

“Trust me on this: the person that voice belongs to; Oh, my God! You are gonna LOVE her!”

(Pentious briefly looks around for the source of the insult, his eyes landing on a pair of Egg Boiz standing behind him, who insist it wasn’t them.)

(The sound of a fuse fizzing is heard, before a small cherry bomb flies through the ship’s windshield, and lands a few feet away from the cobra demon.)

3…
2..
1.

*BOOM!*

(As he regains his bearings, the audacious Australian anarchist herself, Cherri Bomb, reveals herself ready, to do battle.)

“Why don’t you get that tinker toy BULLSHIT off my turf before I SMASH IT!!”

(A stray pipe crushes an Egg Boi.)

“Moore…”

(An offer that Sir Pentious and his goons are more than happy to accept.)

“Ohh, yeah, this is gonna be so fucking good!”
Angel cheered for his friend’s onscreen alternate self.
***
“Is it weird that I’m kinda getting hard right now?”
“A little. Yes.” Anne replied bluntly
“Yeah. Little too much info there.” Amity added

“Hey, Mxy! Can I get some popcorn over here?” Angel called out

One puff of magenta smoke later, a full snack ensemble materialized in front of the group.

“Go right ahead. Enjoy!”

(Instead of showing the ensuing battle, though, we instead cut away to a broadcast from Hell’s number one news station, 666 News, headed by it’s two main anchors, Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench)

“Aw, what?!” Angel complained loudly

“Why build it up at all if you’re not gonna show it?” Anne added

“I kinda wanted to see it, actually…” Husk expressed disappointedly

Niffty just giggled at everyone’s frustration.

(Tom reports on the raging strong turf war while to his right, an image of Pentious trying to look “hip” is shown, followed by a slightly more flattering image of Cherri, albeit with her flipping the bird.)

(Katie explains that in the wake of the Extermination, potential Overlords and other such rank-risers are fighting over all the new land out there for the taking.)

“Okay.” Dipper sighed exasperatedly
“We keep hearing that word getting thrown around, but what does it even mean?”

“Ugh, that was gross!” Mabel complained while holding back vomit at seeing Katie fish a literal tooth and nail out of her cup of coffee, and then down them like they were pills.

(When Tom makes a lewd joke at Cherri’s expense, Katie dumps the rest of her mug’s contents onto his lap, to which he doubles over in pain.)

(Before cutting to the commercial break, Katie tells their audience to stay tuned for an interview with a certain someone about a certain special passion project of hers.)

“Suck it up, you little bi-“

****

“Okay, everyone! What do you say we take a quick intermission, then we’ll pick up when we’re done with that?”

“Yeah, sounds good to me…” Charlie responded, which Dipper noted sounded surprisingly glum, a marked contrast from what little he had seen of her so far, and what he had seen had been suspiciously upbeat and optimistic for someone who was literally demonic royalty.

When he saw the princess in question run out of the room in a storm of anxiety, her girlfriend swiftly following close behind, he couldn’t help but feel worried for her, because demon or not, she was letting them stay here during this whole experience.

So despite still not entirely trusting her, he followed the two demon women, stood discreetly outside the hallway they were in, and listened closely for any information he could use.

****
Charlie ducked into the nearest hall, quickly and sharply panicking, for she knew what was about to be shown all too well.
And no matter how hard she tried to forget it, it just kept coming back in full force.

“Charlie?” Vaggie said
“Are you okay, hon?”

“Ah! Oh, shit!” Charlie gasped

“Oh. Sorry, Vaggie. You startled me, that's all.”

“I could tell, but you didn’t answer the question.”

Charlie steeled herself, calmly exhaled, and spilled it.

“No. It’s just that..well, you remember how that interview went down. I just don’t think I’m ready to go through that again. And I mean, sure, I’ve been surrounded by the worst of the worst my whole life, and I’ve come to accept what they think of me; but these are LIVING humans we’re talking about here! I have no idea what they’ll think of it! If a bunch of damned souls didn’t think highly of it, who’s to say that they’ll think it’s any better?!” As she finished, tears were streaming down her cheeks and her breathing had resumed its previous weight.

“Charlie. Look at me. You don’t need to worry. It’ll be fine. You have so many more people in your corner now. People who understand you and your cause.”
“And besides, it’s not like our little batch of living guests won’t think badly of it. From what I remember, they’re much more open-minded about things that challenge the status quo.”

“What was that about ‘From what you remember’?” Charlie asked slyly.

“Nothing!”

“Vaggie, I thought we agreed ‘No more secrets’.

“Okay, I’ll tell you later. Just not right now, okay?”

“Okay.”

From just outside the hall, they could hear their host calling for everyone to reassemble so they could resume the show.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Vaggie asked Charlie with concern.

“Yes. Let’s do this!”

And with that, the infernal/divine couple stepped back out into the lobby and made their way back to their shared seat, without noticing the chocolate haired male who had been spying on them their whole conversation.

When they had reached their seat, Dipper made his way back to his own, silently starting to rethink his original theory about their hellborn hostess.

****
(Just off-camera, Vaggie adjusts Charlie’s bowtie as they discuss what the latter will say in the upcoming interview.
Charlie insists that she knows what to say, but immediately suggests spicing it up by singing.)

(To which Vaggie vehemently demands her not to do while Charlie stands on the crafts table, where her bodyguards Razzle and Dazzle are busy snacking to counter with the point that she expresses herself better in song form.)

“Oh, my gosh!! You have TWO of these little guys?!” Luz gushed, squeezing Razzle to the point of almost choking him, oblivious to that, and the downtrodden expression on Charlie’s face.

“Look, Charlie. I hate to say it, but…
*SP@ILER!!!*”

“Wha…?”

“Oh, yeah. I almost forgot!” Mxy chuckled

“If anything too important attempts to escape your lips, it will be blocked to prevent spoiling the experience for those of you that are still alive.” Mxy explained
“In other words, keep them to a minimum if you can.”

“Okay, then. Thanks for the heads up.”
Vaggie told him, slightly annoyed but understanding nonetheless.

“In any case, I just want you to know that even if the rest of Hell doesn’t appreciate or enjoy your theatricality, I will always love that about you. You make every moment that I’m down here with you worth it.
I love you, Charlie Morningstar. AND I hope you never, EVER forget that.”

“Aww, come here, Vaggie.” Charlie gushed as she pulled her girlfriend closer for a cuddle and a kiss, which Vaggie gladly reciprocated.

“Wow. They look so happy together.” Dipper thought. “They almost remind me of me and Pacifica." As soon as he thought about her, he audibly sighed. “God, I miss her.”

“But life isn’t a musical, hon”.

“Yep. Speaking from experience, I can say for certain that that’s the case.” Dipper said
“I second that.” Anne added
“Thirded.” Luz followed
“Hate to say it, but it’s true.” Mabel piped in

(Charlie begrudgingly agrees, before fishing out a list of alternative ideas of what to say, getting particularly giddy about the highlighted bits. Vaggie points out that the whole thing is highlighted, before noticing something.)
“Is this a…drawing?”

(Indeed, it is. Right in the center is the end goal of the whole project; redeemed Sinners smiling and happy in Heaven.)

Dipper eyed the screen, slightly bemused at the sickeningly saccharine display in front of them, yet still conflicted on whether he should listen to his gut or his heart on the matter at hand.
On the one hand, she was starting to come off to him as genuine in her demeanor, and like Anne said, he secretly wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt.
But on the other hand…Bill.

“I guess I’ll just have to keep watching…”

(Vaggie pleads with her to stick to the talking points they discussed, and emphasizes NOT to sing. Again, Charlie begrudgingly agrees, and in a cute faux British accent, decides to fall back on her ‘impeccable’ improv skills, as she walks up to Katie to introduce herself.)

“Wait…Killjoy?” Mabel said quietly as she realized something rather intriguing.

“Mabel? What’re you on?” Her brother asked her with a chuckle.

“Well, it’s not really my thing, but late one night, back in high school, I read about this old news lady from before our time. Katie Mertens, I believe her name was. She used to work at KRON in San Francisco, wasn’t too popular with the staff there; called her ‘Katie the Killjoy’ behind her back. Pretty homophobic, even by the standards of the era. Anyways, in 1992, after a pretty bloody brawl with her co-anchor on camera, she was laid off, and later that night she hung herself in despair. Honestly, now that I think about it, it’s not surprising she wound up here.”

“Huh…” was all Dipper had to say to that.

(Polite as the princess is, Katie doesn’t share the sentiment, refusing to shake her hand, because she, as she puts it, doesn’t “touch the gays”, before immediately jabbing a bony finger into her breast, then sharply booping her nose.)

“You know, for someone who doesn’t ‘touch the gays’, she sure is touching you an awful lot.” Luz pointed out

“Maybe she’s secretly closeted herself, and uses it as a defense mechanism?” Mabel suggested

“I mean, maybe…” Charlie thought, filing the thought away. “It’s either that, or a severe case of smoker’s lung.”

(Killjoy tells Charlie isn’t getting the interview because they wanted to. The only reason she’s there is because Jeffrey couldn’t come in for his cannibal cooking segment “It’s Dahm Good!”)

“What?!” Luz exclaimed in disgust. “You guys just EAT other demons?!”

“Oh, but of course!” Alastor replied with a hearty chuckle. “It’s quite a common occurrence, really. In fact, I’m partial to a good venison myself every once in a while.”

“Although, even among all the other cannibals, Dahmer’s considered a pariah.” Husk brought up. “Honestly, it’s amazing his segment hasn’t been cancelled yet.”

“Probably because he’s just that good at it.” Angel argued

“Yeah, you’re right, Angel.” Husk conceded.

(She further states that despite her status, that doesn’t mean jack to someone as rich and influential as her, before finishing off by warning her not to get on her bad side, or the outcome will not be pretty. At that moment, the break comes to an end, and the two take their places. In Katie’s case, more than a little roughly, revealing the result of the aftermath of her demise.)

At the sight of the nasty newswoman’s neck breaking at the speed it did, the humans and one witch in the audience could only react with varying degrees of nausea and discomfort. In contrast to the hell-based cast; who, with the exception of Charlie and Niffty, who respectively had a look of dread and moistened sadism, had various expressions ranging from apathy to disinterest.

“Ooohh…”
“Ah!”
“Ugh!”
“Sheez…”
“Uh, ouch!”

Meanwhile, Charlie’s eyes were firmly focused on the floor, the inside of her mouth felt like cotton and her hands, trembling ever so slightly, fidgeted uneasily with the hem of her jacket. The one moment of the past several months she despised more than any other was about to be played in front of everyone she cared about, and a few new faces, who she had no idea what they would think! Despite what she had told Vaggie in the hall, she was absolutely NOT ready for this; if anything, she was fucking TERRIFIED!!!

Noticing the look of unease on his sister’s face, Razzle left his spot in Luz’s lap, and made his way over to Charlie, setting himself down in her own, and letting her gently hold him close to her heart’s content, while smiling up at her, as if to let her know this would be okay.

“Babe, don’t worry. Whatever happens, we’ll be here for you.” Vaggie told her girlfriend with a sincere, sentimental smile on her face.
Charlie immediately relaxed, knowing Vaggie was right; even if that old interview didn’t go as well as she would have hoped, it was in the past, and that was that. Sharply breathing out, she braced herself for the wave of embarrassment that was about to wash over her.

(As the interview gets underway, Katie has more than a bit of difficulty hiding her disdain, starting by calling her guest by her full name: Charlotte. The princess politely corrects her, before the reporter impatiently tells her to get on with it. Charlie looks out to the audience, seeing Vaggie smiling supportively from the sidelines, and with that, starts right in, explaining how she was born in Hell, and has always tried to see good in those around her.)

“What good?” Angel deadpanned sarcastically “This is Hell, toots. Kinda comes part and parcel with the whole package, you know?”

(She goes on to say how it always hurts her to have to see her people get massacred every year in the exterminations, none of them even being given a chance. She states she doesn’t just want to stand by while such needless violence is inflicted upon her home.)

Surprisingly, Dipper found himself invested in the heartfelt, devastated words being spoken by the princess’s alternate counterpart on the screen, which were seeming to officially confirm what Anne had previously suspected, and everyone else had believed from the beginning:

That maybe this whole friendly facade thing she had going on wasn’t an act;
and if that was indeed the case, then he seriously owed her an apology!

(Moving out into the crowd, Charlie begins her main pitch of a humane alternative to combat the overpopulation crisis, in particular bringing up the idea of redemption. To which she finishes up by announcing the opening of a first of its kind rehabilitation center:
The Happy Hotel! Where the hope is that the guests will check out into Heaven! )

“So…” Anne began, unsure of how to process all this. “This whole place is…I mean, you call it a hotel, but it’s basically a psyche clinic. I’m confused.”

“Well, that’s a little complicated”. Charlie admitted sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck.

(Charlie immediately loses confidence at the cold reception, and across Hell we see how apathetic demons are at the idea. Elsewhere, a certain sinister entity, despite his distaste for the technology, watches the broadcast with a certain level of intrigue outside a TV store.)

“Oh, this part is going to be F̴̧͙̫͖̖̥̟̈U̷̻̮̰̒̑̇͒̽̕͘͠Ń̴̹͕̩̗̰̜̪̪̘̈́́͑͊̊͝ to rewatch!” Alastor stated menacingly before darkly chuckling to himself.

“Okay, look. I don’t really know you all that well yet, buddy, but judging by how she looks, I can tell that you and I have two very different definitions of fun.” Dipper plainly stated back to the Radio Demon, whose static seemed to get slightly erratic at that, while he looked over at Charlie and Vaggie. He was already concerned by what he'd overheard between them during the intermission, but now seeing her in a state like this, and feeling so much empathy for a literal demon was definitely a sign.

And it was definitely NOT helping him much that this scarlet sicko was seeming to take so much pleasure in what was obviously not a fun experience for her.
In fact, seeing as how she was pretty much exonerated in his book, Dipper realized that this Alastor guy deserved the suspicion he was wrongly giving to the princess.

“I guess I’ll have to keep a few extra tabs on him instead. It’s a good thing that I have one of the recording devices Grunkle Ford designed.” He concluded, before taking it out of his pocket and discreetly putting the earpiece in place.

(Looking around, Charlie expresses certainty that every demon has at least something good inside them. Suddenly getting an idea of how to get through to them, she picks herself up and snaps her fingers. The studio goes dark for a second, before a spotlight shines down, a piano suddenly having materialized on top of the desk, Charlie seated atop it. Razzle and Dazzle take a spot on either side, ready for their cue. Back with Alastor, he tilts his head, eager to see in what direction this little performance would go.)

“Oh, no…” Vaggie groaned at the same time as she did on screen.

“God, please just strike me now!” Charlie whined whilst trying to bury herself into the cushions to block out what was about to be presented with no way for her to stop it or get out of it.

“I have a dream/I’m here to tell…”

(Charlie proceeds to sing about her project in more detail, and its intended purpose, while offscreen Vaggie is disappointed that she didn’t stick to their agreement.)

(As the tempo of the song significantly quickens, we’re treated to a montage of the diverse cast of snowflakes that make up the inhabitants of the Pride Ring.)

“Whoa!” The living five jumped slightly at the brief flash of a more demonic-looking Charlie, which consequently reminded them that despite her sunny disposition, she was still Princess of Hell.

“There’ll be no more fire, and no more screams/just puppy dog kisses, and cotton candy dreams.”

“Aww!” Mabel cooed at the tiny hellhound puppy the onscreen Charlie had in her arms.

(Vaggie facepalms again, and the tempo picks up again as Charlie continues to show off some more sinners, while trying to help a few.)

Luz looked directly to her and Amity’s right, to see the state the princess was in, a very disheartening contrast to the peppy, upbeat young woman currently singing her heart out just in front of them, and felt a familiar weight in her heart.

“You'll be complete! It'll be so neat! Our service can't be beat! You'll be on easy street, yes! Life will be sweet at The Happy Hoteeel! Yeah!”

As the song came to a close, Charlie had her face planted deep into the cushions of the couch, wallowing inside a small mountain of tear stained blankets, dreading what was about to happen.

“Wow… that was shit!”

‘There, you all saw it! They said it themselves, it was shit! Please, just make the mockery quick! Rip the Band-Aid off, as they say!’ She thought between audible sniffles.

But rather than the prerequisite boos and jeers that she was so used to receiving whenever she performed, she heard something else-
something she hadn’t heard since she was a little girl performing for her parents in the living room; a sound she thought she’d never hear again.

“Uh, what’s that?” She muttered barely audible, because she was hardly able to believe it.

“That, my dear, is the sound of applause!” She heard Alastor reply with a hint of pride in his Transatlantic accented voice

When she poked her head out of her little blanket mound to see for herself, she could clearly make out the male human-Dipper, she believed his name was- clearly as day clapping with a look of genuine awe on his face.
“Wow! That was… just WOW!” He managed to get out, completely stunned out of his wits.

“Dude, I gotta say: you may be a demon, but you have the voice of an angel! Anne added, joining him in the compliments

“ENCORE!” Mabel screamed

“Whoo! Char-lie!” Luz followed, flashing a pair of finger guns her way “Get it, queen!”

Soon after, everyone else proceeded to follow suit, which quickly transitioned into thunderous, uproarious cheering.

Charlie looked like she was going to start crying again, but this time out of joy rather than the usual pain.
“Someone pinch me, I’m obviously dreaming right now.” She whispered, before she felt a sharp jolt in her shoulder.

“OW!!”

She looked to her left to see Niffty skittering back to her seat giggling, before she felt the blankets being uncovered, the cold air hitting her skin and a certain warm arm wrapping around her in a soothing embrace.

“It’s real, mi amor. It’s real.”

“Well, now that a round of applause has been given, it’s time to return to our regularly scheduled programming.”

“Oh, shit…”

(To her devastation, it does not go over well, with Katie derisively asking what would make her think anyone in Hell would give a care about bettering themselves. Charlie counters by revealing they’ve already had a patron for two weeks who’s shown phenomenal progress; a certain someone by the name of… Angel Dust.)

“Oh, no…” Charlie, Vaggie and Angel groaned all at once, while the spider demon winced and looked away, ashamed of the person he used to be, who was about to come back into the forefront, if his intuition was correct.

Meanwhile, Dipper had his Journal out, jotting down “Dante was right” after he heard Katie mentioning “Nine Circles”, and sketching a preliminary of said layout.

(After Tom shows interest, Katie argues that this isn’t much of an accomplishment, stating that a guy like him will do anything with enough bribing.)

“I mean, she ain’t wrong…but that’s only when I’m on the clock. Still, it’s not like I don’t have standards or anything; something that saggy whore wouldn’t recognize if it bit her in the ass and then blew up in her face!”

(Immediately after this, an incoming development on the ongoing turf war comes in: someone new has joined the fight! Switching over to the live feed of the fight reveals that someone to be none other than Angel.)

“Oh, shit.”

Angel felt the intense glares radiating from three humans and one witch, knowing that this might not make him too popular with them for at least a while.
So, instead, he decided to make right what he could make right.

“Hey, Mxy? Can we pause this for a second? I have something I have to say.”

The imp obliged, and Angel turned towards his hostesses, and braced himself for this, hoping in vain that it would make things better.

“Look, guys. I know I’ve already apologized a million times for that day, ” he began
“but I honestly didn’t realize that the consequences would hit this deep. So, again, I am so fucking sorry I caused it to go up in smoke.”

Charlie stared back at her first client, her eyes brimming with empathy and understanding.

“Hey, Angel. We both understand your reasoning. Honestly we understand it a little better now, now that we’re seeing it for ourselves; but if you ask me, wanting to help a friend out is a redeeming quality.
But that version of you and what happened then is in the past. And look at you now; you’ve looked back at your mistakes, and have made so much progress since then!”

“Thanks, Char.”

(Tom and Katie mock Charlie for this unfortunate turn of events, while rejoicing for what this will do for the ratings while she tries desperately to block the picture, unable to do so due to it not being physically present.)

“Ha! This next bit is my favorite part!”

“Dude, what is your problem?! Aren’t you supposed to be her main supporter or something?” Dipper snapped, his newfound dislike for the deer demon flaring fast.

“What, I can’t have a little bit of lighthearted fun while doing it?” Alastor tried to weakly defend himself.

Dipper just glared at him with a surefire sense of conviction, which went unnoticed by the recipient.

(Killjoy continues to ruthlessly mock the hotel, because after this, the project looks to be dead in the water. She looms over her, red eyes glaring down, and with a sarcastic inflection in her tone, intimidatingly asks her how the feeling of total failure feels.)

“Yeah, well…How does it feel that I got your pen, huh?! …Bitch!”

“Really?” Anne questioned, slightly bemused, but also taken aback by such a lame comeback. “You couldn’t have come up with something a little more…cutting?”

“I don’t know. I’m not the best under pressure.” Charlie responded with her face in her hands.

“But you’re always getting better.” Vaggie told her with a peck to the cheek.

(Charlie sheepishly sets the pen down again, while Tom immediately bolts off, not wanting to be too close for what’s about to go down.)

(The scene transitions back to the turf war, and everything that entails. Cherri thanks Angel for providing her some backup, and asks him where he’s been. While they do battle with a bunch of Egg Boiz, the spider tells her what he’s been doing for the past two weeks, explaining that he’s only staying at the hotel for the free room and board, and doesn’t buy into the whole redemption thing.)

“Ay, por el amor de…” Vaggie groaned as she rubbed her temples “Angel… just WHY?”

“Y’know, in my defense…” Angel began, before stopping in thought
“Actually, no, I…don’t really have any good excuses, or really any that I haven’t already given, so I’m just gonna shut up now.”

“That’s a good idea.” Husk agreed

(Suddenly, Angel finds himself with a chain wrapped around his torso, courtesy of Sir Pentious, who proceeds to throw him across the battlefield.)
“Ohh harder, daddy!”
“SON??”

Both Anne and Amity stifled a laugh at the snake’s misreading of the spider’s words, while Angel had a look of serious contemplation on his face as the implications that one word gave out sunk in after having not paid it much mind then, given the circumstances he was under at the time; either he had a kid at one point in life, or he was looking too deep into it.

At the same time, Vaggie looked just to her left to see her girlfriend’s eyes sparkling at the mention of Pentious potentially having a kid, before just as quickly deflating due to the depressing turn her train of thought suddenly took; and they both knew what that thought was all too well.
To help quell the sadness, she wrapped Charlie in a hug, soothing her with the warmth of each other’s embrace.

“I miss him, too, hon.” She whispered sympathetically “But, maybe, if anything, this whole thing will give us closure.”

“Well, it’s worth a try.” She sighed

(Taking advantage of their adversary’s momentary state of distraction, Cherri kicks Pentious to the side, causing him to flare his hood in response. He berates them for not having nearly enough style, claiming that the side in a war with the most of it is the one that is victorious.)
“Or the side that ain’t DEAD!”
“Speaking of style, is your hat like, alive or something?”
“Oh, well…THAT’S NONE OF YOUR GODDAMN BUSINESS!! Now, is it?!”

(Angel goes on to question if that is the case, then who is what in their hypothetical relationship, a good enough roast to impress one of the serpentine sinner’s own minions, only to have a pebble thrown at his…head? Shell? Eh, I don’t know.)
“I’M GOING TO BLOW YOU TO BITSSSS!!!”
“Kinky.”
“Oh, not like that! Pervert!”

“Okay. Look man, you’re starting to make me a little bit uncomfortable with how… unchaste you are.” Dipper said

“Well, what can I say? What you see is what you get.” Angel proudly bragged while checking the nails on his lower right hand.

“No no, I mean seriously. Is there anything that doesn’t turn you on?”

“Women, kids, feet, and people who use the word ‘rubbish’ when they mean ‘garbage’.” He stated immediately

“Really?” Anne genuinely inquired with a raised eyebrow

“Yep. Not even a wiggle down there.”

(From behind, Angel spots another egg sneak up on them with some kind of bazooka-looking gun thing, and instinctively pushes Cherri out of harm’s way, getting his four hands shackled by the cable produced from said weapon. Pentious takes a moment to gloat to his now captive opponent, once again unwittingly making an innuendo.
Angel calls him out on his poor phrasing, before he unveils a third set of arms and aggressively fires off a Tommy gun.)

Dipper had his Journal out, energetically adding to a new entry on all the unique physiological occurrences in as many of the demons he saw on screen as he could.

“You know, don’t think I don’t see you looking at me. If you want to ogle, you still have to pay.”

“Sorry. It’s just that all of this is honestly pretty intriguing. Like your third set of arms, tell me a little about that.”

“Well, not much to ‘em. But they’ve come in handy multiple times in multiple different brawls. Caught a bunch of assholes off guard, just before I pumped 'em full of lead.”

(Cherri wonders if this whole mess will land Angel in trouble. He brushes it off, thinking that it won’t be that big of a deal, the scene cutting back to the studio to show how very, VERY wrong he is about that.)

“Holy shit pickles.” Angel gaped at the image of Tom randomly on fire.

“Glad you haven’t changed. You know you’re my favorite guy to party with!”

“You know it, Sugar Tits.”

(Leaping in to finish the fight, a splash panel of everyone’s state in that moment is displayed, before hard cutting to silence.)

(On the ride back to the Hotel, while Charlie is glumly staring out the window, Vaggie glares daggers at Angel.
Across the cabin from them, the porn star is messing around with the divider button. When he notices Vaggie’s unamused look, all he has to defend himself with is a slightly halfhearted “What?”)
“What? WHAT?! WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!?”

“Wow. Now THAT is a sweet ride! How long have you had it?” Luz said in awe of the Morningstar family limo.

“Oh, about as long as automobiles have been a thing.” Charlie stated as if it was no big deal.

“Wait.” Dipper’s mind sparked in silent realization.
“Just a question, and sorry if this is rude, but how old ARE you, exactly?”

“Well, again, that’s a little complicated.
But if you want, I could tell you some of what I do know, and believe me, what I do know… is a lot!”

“Done!”

(Angel insists that he had to do it, both because he owed Cherri a solid and to uphold his reputation; he says that if word got out that he was going clean, or at least trying to, that it would go against his persona.)

(Vaggie points out that he should be less concerned about his own credibility, and more about the hotel’s, because his actions made them look like a joke.
Angel argues that jokes are supposed to be funny; rather he made them look sad. Like a progeriac orphan without arms or legs.)
“GREAT! Now I’M bummed thinking about it!”

“Uhh, what’s progeria?” Mabel queried curiously.

“Trust me, kid, you don’t wanna know. But I will say that it is not pleasant, that’s for sure.” Angel told her matter-of-factly.

(While he proceeds to search the car for booze, Vaggie angrily implores him to at least try to take the situation seriously. Angel reluctantly agrees, albeit not without throwing a suggestive remark her way.)
“I’m gonna kill him!”
“Too late, toots.”
“Wait, would that make me double dead? And where exactly do I go, to double Hell?”

“Wait, you can die in Hell?” Luz commented perplexedly

“You know, it’s not like we’re ones to talk, Luz.” Anne replied to her Afro-Latina friend
“Considering we’ve both died once apiece.”

“Yeah, but not in the afterlife.” She pointed out, then turned towards Angel, remembering what he had said earlier about demons being immortal except for something called Angelic Steel, filing the thought away for later.

(Charlie, a little too softly, chews Angel out for his behavior, to which Vaggie erupts at her downplaying of his little spectacle.)
“That was really uncool, Angel.”
“‘Uncool’?! After THAT train wreck, there is no way ANYONE is going to want to stay at the hotel! All thanks to YOU, and your selfish BULLSHIT!!”

(Despite the obvious setback, Charlie tries to stay positive as the trio arrive back at the hotel and step into the lobby, revealing the rundown, somewhat dingy fixer upper on the inside.)

(Vaggie collapses on the couch in exhaustion, whilst Angel walks up to a lopsidedly-leaning refrigerator, pulls a popsicle out of its box and proceeds to suck on it suggestively, before turning towards a moping Charlie, cracking yet another joke before realizing just how much this is impacting her, reaches out an arm in an attempt to provide comfort, but can’t bring himself to do so.)

(Charlie steps outside and tries to call her mother for support, only to be met with a dial tone. Her grief is so great though, that she leaves a message anyway.)

Amity couldn’t help but empathize with what she was seeing; how hard it felt to need the warm support of a mother, yet being unable to receive it for reasons she could only grasp at straws for; as well as having such a seemingly strained relationship with her father.  

“At least her mom seems to just be busy, as opposed to a straight up sociopathic, abusive bitch like Odalia.”

When she found herself thinking about that woman, Amity heard a soft, reassuring voice in her head, as what looked to the uninitiated like a small white cat climbed down her body and made itself comfortable in her lap.

‘Don’t worry. You are loved.’ Ghost assured her witch in a calm tone, "You have Luz, you have me, you have your family, you have your friends.” She looked to her left, then to her right, at everyone around them, letting her Palisman’s words sink in. ‘And some potential new ones.’ She added, a hint of mischievous playfulness seeping through, booping her nose with her paw.

(When she finishes, she wipes her eyes dry, goes back inside and lays her head on the door, pondering what to do next.)

(Almost immediately after, a sinister sounding knock is made on the door, startling the princess out of her funk.)

Alastor’s grin widened to a length it seldom reached, which said a lot considering how far it normally seemed to stretch out to. The sheer act seemed to cause a drop in the temperature in the room.
Normally, Dipper would think it was just a chill in his spine, but he had enough experience with ghosts to know all the telltale signs of a haunting.
And sure enough, there was his condensed breath vapor right in front of him, to say nothing of Anne rubbing her arms, and Luz producing a notepad full of glyphs, and searching through it for one with a fire sigil.

“Hey, Guy Smiley, what’s got you so excited?” Dipper half smugly, half unnerved asked his new nemesis. “I thought you didn’t like TV. Or at least, that’s what Mxy said.”

“Well, I don’t, and I N̵̬͈͖̈́̏̓E̴͙͈̦̮̟̐̀͑̋͛͂͝ͅV̶͉̘̳̪̹̞́̏̒ͅÈ̸͔̝̩̗̔̃̕R̴͕̬̳̖̈́̎͘͘ will. But if you must know, I’d at least like to see how I look in one of these new-fangled “picture shows” without it glitching out. If anything, I’ve always been a tiny bit curious about how I’d come out, you know?”

“I mean, I guess that makes sense…” Dipper conceded, before processing what the deer demon had said. “Wait. What do you mean ‘glitch out’?”

“You’ll see…”

(Turning around to face the door, Charlie hesitantly pulls it open, only to find none other than the infamous Radio Demon, Alastor, on the other side.)
“Hel-
*SLAM!*
-lo!”
*SLAM!*

At this reaction, the living five, Dipper in particular, couldn’t help but elicit a chuckle, but something hung over his mind: if Charlie seemed so fearful of this guy then, why did they seem so chummy in the present? The juxtaposition twisted in his thoughts, leaving him to wonder what kind of motivations lay beneath the surface of their relationship.

(Charlie informs her girlfriend of their unexpected guest, to which Vaggie desperately tells her not to let him in. Unfortunately, Charlie, against her better conscience, opens the door again, and invites him in. Alastor proceeds to properly introduce himself, before going on to say that her little bout on the news provided him with the most entertainment he’s felt since the Stock Market Crash of 1929.)
“So many orphans.”

Dipper’s mind was raging against this certified psycho, before that specific statement caused his train of thought to begin racing as a sudden flood of memories hit him all at once; recollections of a late-night internet binge back in high school resurfaced after nearly a decade of sitting by the wayside. Images of faded newspaper images from the New Orleans Item-Tribune circa 1933, declaring a local radio personality had been found dead to a bullet to the skull, his body lying in a forest clearing almost unrecognizable due to being picked apart all at once by a pack of hunting dogs, which made him realize that Alastor, in spite of all the red in his wardrobe, the tufts of hair that may or may not have been ears, and the tiny, almost unnoticeable at first glance antlers, bared a striking-almost uncanny-resemblance to the infamous Bayou Butcher, Alastair LeBeau, a cannibalistic serial killer from 1920s Louisiana, who moonlighted as the host of his own radio show. Just tint his skin a few shades up, and dye his red hair brown, and you wouldn’t be able to tell them… apart…

“Ohhh….”

His mind trailed off as the realization hit him like a freight train, and suddenly he could swear he was hearing countless agonized screams of terror, mixed with the sound of a nightmare-inducing radio-tinted cackle in his mind.
“Okay, pal. From all that alone, my opinion of you has officially frozen over completely.”

He wasn’t alone. A shiver ran down Luz’s spine, her eyes darting towards the male Pines twin, wordlessly acknowledging the shared pit of dread that rested in their stomachs. This guy wasn’t just a random smiling face;
He was almost less than literally a ghost resurrected, a shadowy figure whose legend rang through the airwaves of countless true crime forums and podcasts, including her sister’s own. And he was sitting right there, halfway between the two of them!
In that moment, they both silently affirmed to keep a close, watchful eye on the guy until further notice.

(Vaggie points her spear directly in Alastor’s face, warning him that she won’t let him bring harm to anyone on the premises-all three of them.)

Anne looked over at the one-eyed woman in question, impressed that she had the guts to do that, seeing as how Al looked like he could decimate her without trying.

“ Wow. Good on you, girl.” She said with obvious intrigue in her voice. “Honestly, I’m not sure I could bring myself to do something like that.”

Amity raised an eyebrow at the Thai woman, clearly perplexed by that statement.
“Anne, what are you talking about? You literally fought an interdimensional hive mind and won when you were 13. You could totally take this guy if you wanted to.” She said to her with clear consternation in her voice.

“Ahaha!” Alastor laughed suspiciously insecurely sounding, “I highly doubt that.”

“I know. I was just trying to be humble.” She replied back half-sarcastically, while stifling a laugh. “That, and I’m probably a little rusty by this point.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Vaggie said back to Anne

“I probably still could take him if I wanted to…” The incognito angel mentally mused

(As he nonchalantly pushes the blade’s tip away, Al assures her that if he wanted to hurt anyone there…)
“Į̵̻͙̿̓͘ ̷̛͇̩̺͎̆W̸͎̭̦̗̏͆̈́̓O̶̯̲̿͒U̸̖̥̼͙̓̉L̴̫̉D̸̤̣̬̖̅̈́͊ ̷͖͓́͊̈́̀Ĥ̵̳̓̾͠A̷̭͖̖̘̐͠͝V̴̧͓̰̅́E̴̡̢͚̤̽̊ ̷̩̇̌D̸̤͈̳͚͆̃̚Ơ̴͇͕͇͔̓̀͝N̵͔͒͑͜È̴̝̖́ ̵͕̥̖̓͒͑S̵̨̾̂͗͠Ǫ̷̡̮̗̉̆͠ ̵̢̣͔͙́̈́̆̾A̸̩̽̈̎͜͝L̵̛̳̻̹̅̈́͝R̷̡̖̒E̷̯̰̜̤̅̍̆͌A̴̻̘͑D̸̢̾̅͘͠Ý̴̦̣̘̔̂͊.”

“Uhh…What the hell was that?!” Anne yelled, clearly perturbed by the screen just glitching out like that.

“That was the answer to his question.” Alastor responded plainly, jabbing a finger in Dipper’s direction

(Alastor clarifies that he’s there because he wants to help Charlie run her hotel. Not out of the goodness of his heart, mind you; people like that are hard to come by in Hell, after all. But rather to alleviate his sheer, absolutely crushing boredom.)

(When she asks if he thinks redemption is possible, Al bluntly responds that the sinners had their chance to do good when they were alive, and as such are deserving of their damnation; after death, there’s nothing that can save them. He craves entertainment, and believes the Hotel will provide.)

(While that conversation is going on, Vaggie and Angel are having an exchange of their own, the latter seemingly having not heard of the Radio Demon, and the former expressing disbelief at such.)

“Wait. So how long have you both been down here? Sorry if that’s personal, but I’m just genuinely curious.”

“What can I say? My brother, he’s the intuitive type.” Mabel giggled with pride.

“That depends. What year is it now up top?”

“2027.”

“Well, let’s see… I believe I died in 1947, so that would mean for me, it’s been 80 years. And as for Miss Flat-Chest over there…” Angel hesitated for a second, before whispering over to Vaggie.
“Hey, Vags. Did you ever die, or were you born in Heaven or something?”

“I died in 2014, to answer your question, Dipper. So, that would be 13 years.”

Dipper finished chronicling the newfound info, and thanked them both, before turning his attention back to the screen.

(Vaggie proceeds to go into detail of Alastor’s backstory, how seemingly overnight, he manifested in Hell with a hitherto undreamt of level of power for a mortal soul, and proceeded to singlehandedly bring down Overlords who had been ruling powers for centuries. Then, just so everyone could know who the new big cheese in town was, he broadcast the tortured screams of his victims over the airwaves, which earned him his iconic moniker.)

“I don’t know, man. I think it’s kind of a cool nickname.” Anne said in response to Vaggie calling said moniker ‘lazy’.

“Thank you, my dear. At least someone knows when they're in the presence of a superior.” Alastor responded with gratification while glaring at the one-eyed woman.

(Many have theorized over the decades how a seemingly random sinner could gain such incredible power in such a short span of time, but one thing was certain about him-)
“He’s an unpredictable source of danger, a wicked spirit of mystery, and a violent monster of chaos, the likes of which we can’t risk getting involved with UNLESS WE WANT TO END UP ERASED!!!”
“Ya done?”

Dipper was writing all this down in a dedicated spread in the Journal before he realized that one of these so-called ‘Overlords’-one that sort of looked like an anthropomorphic macaw- looked suspiciously familiar. Like he’d seen him somewhere before.

And more importantly, he immediately began speculating that he might have just found another one of Bill’s past dealmakers.
“Which just gives me yet another reason to keep tabs on you.” He silently affirmed, shooting another cold glare in the Radio Demon’s direction.

(Even after all of that, though, Angel still doesn’t take him seriously, whilst Vaggie has her doubts. Luckily, so does Charlie.)

"Not really typical in what you’d think he’d look like…” Dipper mused when presented by the show of a portrait of the royal family, his eyes focusing on the figure on the right, who he knew who it was immediately despite the obvious differences to the standard descriptions.

“If anything, he looks kind of charming…” Luz thought in tandem.

“And… short?” Mabel concluded the shared mental string of thought.

(Having made her decision, she picks up with Al, telling him that despite his sketchy demeanor and lack of respect for the project, she is willing to take up his offer, on the one condition that he not weave any strings into the basket of their not-deal. She proceeds to use her royal prerogative to tie him down for as long as he desires.)

When they bore witness to the familiar, yet distinct green energy emanating from the palm of the Radio Demon, Dipper and Mabel looked cautiously into each other’s eyes, and nodded.

“You know, there’s a lot of grey area in ‘for as long as you desire’.” Dipper said, the aforementioned statement catching Charlie slightly off-guard.

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is, who’s to say he won’t leave when at an inconvenient or even worse time for you. Then where would you be? Or, what if he’s manipulating you for his own gain?
All that raw power, and you’re using it to make colorful backdrops for musical numbers.”

“Whaaat? No, he wouldn’t do that!” Charlie said, before hesitating. “I mean, sure, he’s no teddy bear, but he really does have this hotel’s best interests at heart.”

“They’re just saying that not everyone would use it for good if they had it for themselves.” Anne spoke up, adding her own point to the discussion. “I should know; a god told me so.”

(Fortunately, the conditions seem to placate Alastor, who, after antagonizing Vaggie further, notices a suspicious lack of staff on the premises. Upon asking his new partner of their whereabouts, Alastor lays eyes on her-and immediately notes they’re going to need more than just that if they want a chance at succeeding.
After a declined offer of a blowjob from Angel, Al decides to call in a few of his associates to serve as the staff.)

The bluntness of his refusal elicited a few laughs, Anne in particular getting a kick out of it.

“Dang, someone’s an ace in the hole.”

“Seriously, what does that even mean?”

(A snap of the fingers, and the hearth is fully renovated! But then, a small seemingly charred husk of a corpse falls to the bottom. Al walks over and picks it up.
Suddenly, a single large eye pops open, and looks up at the hotel’s founding staff and patron.)

“AH!!”

(The soot puffs off, revealing a small red- haired figure in a poodle skirt.)

“Oh…”

(Al describes the new arrival as ‘nifty’, before dropping her, and she introduces herself as Niffty. Proceeding to both talk and clean a mile a minute, she establishes her role quite efficiently.)

“Uh, I have to ask, but what were you doing in there, Niff?” Angel asked the maid, concern weaved into his tone.

“Cleaning, duh!”

“You were covered in soot!”

“With my body.” She responded like it was obvious, before eliciting a disturbing little chuckle.

(Elsewhere, a demon resembling an anthropomorphic cat with a pair of wings is in the middle of a lucrative winning streak, before he finds himself being inconveniently summoned against his will, by a face he’d hoped never to see again.
While Alastor is glad to see him, the feeling is far from mutual, due in no small part to said summoning causing the loss of all his winnings.)

“Not my proudest moment…” Husk stopped that thought, looking at Angel from the corner of his eye.

“But every moment has a silver lining.”

(Husk flares up when he learns he’s being involuntarily volunteered, angrily demanding if Al thinks this whole thing is a joke to him.)
“Maybe!”

(Al ultimately convinces Husk to take the job by incorporating the bar he was brought in with into the hotel, along with conjuring a bottle of cheap booze.
At Vaggie’s objections, Angel pins her to the ground and firmly insists that they are going to keep it.)

“I didn’t just mean the bar, you know…” Angel voiced rather flirtatiously to his literal wingman, running a finger up his torso, which eked a subtle purr out of Husk.

(Charlie welcomes the new concierge/bartender with stars in her eyes, an attempted handshake and an overenthusiastic smile.
Al asks her what she thinks of his improvements. While she is overjoyed by all this, Vaggie still has her doubts. )

“Hahaha! This is going to be very entertaining!”

(Al adjusts his frequency before thrusting Vaggie away, and dressing himself in a suit reminiscent of those worn when he was alive.)

Upon hearing the sudden jazzy intro, the realization of just what kind of show they were in for dawned on Luz.

“Wait. Hold up… are we watching a musical?” She wondered, a hint of excitement in her voice

“Yep. Get ready!” Mxy confirmed mischievously

Meanwhile, upon seeing Screen!Alastor handle her alternate girlfriend so roughly, Charlie looked towards her facilities manager, a perplexed, confused and somewhat hurt look in her eyes.

“You have a dream/You wish to tell…”

“Ooh, I like this!” Mabel found herself getting into the tune, bobbing along energetically.

“Yeah, I could get into this.” Amity agreed

“Well, at least now we have someone here who appreciates the classics.” Al stated graciously.

(The song comes to an abrupt end thanks to Sir Pentious suddenly showing up just above their doorstep, looking to do battle with the Radio Demon, who claims not to recognize him, despite them supposedly tangling in the past.)

“Man, villains hate that, don’t they?” Anne stated matter-of-factly.
“I mean, this guy is like a Saturday morning cartoon villain. I mean, who talks like that, you know?” She asked, before she burst out laughing, not noticing the hell based cast collectively shooting her a weird look, like she wasn’t speaking English.

(With a snap of his fingers, Alastor summons a swarm of black, shadowy tendrils, and absolutely OBLITERATES Pentious’ blimp, while everyone else can only look on in sheer, abject horror.)

Upon witnessing such a vicious, visceral display of power, the same level of dread felt in that moment was instantaneously drilled into the three remaining members of the living group, who as soon as it came to pass, immediately made their newfound stance known to the perpetrator of the act:

“Okay. That was one of the most unsettling things I’ve ever seen, and honestly, that says a lot considering the type of world I’m from.” Amity stated frankly, before shivering rapidly, feeling that deathly chill again, Ghost providing her comfort.

“Yeah, remind me not to get on your bad side, bub.” Anne addressed Alastor, also unnerved by what they had just bore witness to.

Mabel merely stared vacantly out into nothing, at a complete loss for words.

(Once he’s done with that, he proceeds to act as if nothing had happened before, offering to make the crew some of his mother’s famous jambalaya.
And as they walk back to the hotel, amidst his droning on, the game is set, and a new name is bestowed upon the establishment.)
“Now…

…STAY TUNED!”
_________________________________

The wall turned to static as the scene faded to darkness, everyone getting up and stretching their legs and backs after being stuck in some admittedly rather comfortable chairs for an entire afternoon.

“And, scene!” Their host announced, signaling the end of the show for the day.

“Alright, everyone.” Mxy announced. “I’ve got important show business to attend to, namely setting up tomorrow’s episodes.”

“You see, unlike what we just saw, and what some of you have seen previously, this series is a little more on the… short side; totaling in at only eight episodes. So, to make things simpler, we’ll be watching two per day; one in the morning and one in the afternoon, with a little lunch to break it up.”

“Sounds good.” Charlie said. 

“Great! Now with that out of the way, you all have free time. Enjoy!”

And one puff of pink smoke later, their host was gone, leaving everyone alone. After a brief interlude of silence, Angel was the first to break it.

“So, uhh… what do we do now?”

“You know, that mention of a lunch made me realize that none of us haven’t really eaten anything since we got here.” Dipper realized, placing his hand to his stomach.
“So if it’s alright, we could have a little dinner.”

“Well, we weren’t really expecting a bunch of humans to drop in on us so suddenly, so, it may be a while before something will be ready.” Vaggie disclosed awkwardly

Niffty immediately began waving her hand in the air eagerly.

“Ooh, ooh! I’ll get right on it!” She announced before zipping towards the kitchen, leaving a Niffty-shaped cloud of dust where she had been before.

Ten seconds later, the sound of a bunch of metal pots and pans clanging onto the floor all at once was heard, everyone turning in the direction that it emanated from, concerned looks on almost all their faces.

“Uh, I’ll go after her. Make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble. And I figure she might like some help; I do have some experience with cooking.”

With that, Anne followed the path the little gremlin took.

Meanwhile, Vaggie left to log the hotel’s unexpected new guests, while Mabel took off with Angel, as did Luz with Amity, presumably to get some much needed alone time.

Funnily though, Ghost didn’t follow them, instead staying behind and warily approaching KeeKee, before a small bout of chasing, rolling around and play-fighting broke out between them.

Meanwhile, Alastor discreetly dematerialized with a gleam of seething hatred in his eyes, leaving Dipper and Charlie alone in silence, him staring contemplatively at an ultrasound photo of his unborn daughter, while trying to work up the courage to properly apologize for his previous accusations, while she sat next to him, her heart melting from the cuteness of watching the two kitties get along.

Finally, Dipper looked over to her and after exhaling profusely, he uttered three words that, if all went well, would hopefully help change his current standing:

“Here we go…”

***
Soon enough, the late afternoon bled into evening, and a collective state of fatigue washed over everyone in the Hotel, which, given the crazy day they’d just gone through, was more than justified.

“Well, I guess we should turn in. Gonna need all the rest we can get.” Charlie said as a yawn escaped her mouth, calling her baphomet butler/bodyguard and the lone surviving Egg Boi over to her.

“Razzle, Frank, please show our guests to their rooms, if you will.”

“You got it, Princess!” The little egg exclaimed with a salute.

Charlie giggled at his enthusiasm, before kneeling down to his level and putting a gentle hand on his shell.

“I told you, just Charlie’s fine.” She reminded him.

“Oh, yeah.”

Razzle simply bleated and saluted his mistress as well.

“Aww, he’s so cute!” Luz cooed, before she heard a soft rattling in her ear, followed by a small purple snake with cat ears popping onto her shoulder with a pout on its face.

“But not as cute as you, of course, Stringbean.”
She quickly reiterated, which placated the little snake shifter, as evidenced by the affectionate nuzzle she proceeded to give her human.

Dipper watched as his sister and friends walked up the stairs with a specific guide to be shown to their rooms, which left him alone, with only his thoughts with him. And they were anything but pleasant ones:

“Ugh. Who knows how long this could take. I mean, with only eight episodes, it’ll probably only take at least a week, but that's still a week of worry for everyone we know. And what if Paz gives birth while I’m down here?! That’s literally one of the most important milestones a parent can experience, and it’s literally the first! I can’t afford to miss it. I’d never forgive myself if I did, and I don’t think she would either. Oh, God, Paz is probably freaking out right now! How did I just realize that?! And that can’t be good for the baby. And…and…”

Before he could go any deeper into the panic attack that this mental rabbit hole was pushing him into, he felt KeeKee purring in his lap, which evidently helped him calm down a little bit, but that also meant he didn’t notice a certain white-skinned woman sneak up on him and place her hand on his shoulder, which caused years of built-up self defense training to kick in upon contact.

“Uh, Dipper?”

“CRAP!” He exclaimed in shock, shoving her to the ground in a moment of impulse.

“Holy shit!” Charlie yelped as she fell to the floor.

Upon realizing that she wasn’t a threat, Dipper relaxed his stance and mentally reprimanded himself for pushing her down like that.

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry.” He apologized whilst helping her up.

“No, no it’s fine. Honestly, if anything, I should be the one apologizing to you.” She apologized in return as she brushed dust off her suit.

“No, it’s okay. I was just… lost in thought, you know?”

“Yeah, I could tell.”

“Well, since everyone else has gone to their rooms, I figured I’d show you to yours personally. I mean, if that’s alright.”

Dipper was touched by the offer, and since he had no idea how big this place could potentially be, he decided he’d be better off taking her up on it than spend his whole night wandering around aimlessly.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He answered with a small smile.

As he made his way in, he stopped for a second, before turning to his hostess.
“Uh, hey, listen… I mean, if it’s fine with you, I was wondering if I could have your cat sleep with me. I don’t know, I just feel better with her.”

“Of course, be my guest. That’s what she’s here for.”

Charlie left the door open ajar long enough for KeeKee to follow him through, then slowly closed it with a few poignant parting words:

“I hope you enjoy your stay with us.”

****

After the door closed behind him, Dipper looked around his new room, somehow just noticing the newfound void inside of him, as he realized this would be the first night in four, almost five years, that he would be sleeping without his beloved wife by his side.

Speaking of, what he was about to do was probably the hardest thing he had done in a while. Funny how that is; constantly braving dangerous beasts and monsters, risking death on a near daily basis was no problem, but making a call that Pacifica may not even hear was as heart-wrenching as it got.

Dipper steeled himself as he fished out his phone, opened the ‘phone’ app, and pulled up Pacifica’s contact info.
He took a breath, and hit ‘call’.

Just like he thought it would, it went to voicemail, but in his desperation, he couldn’t bring himself to just hang up, and left a message.

“Hey, Paz.” Dipper began
“So, I know you’re probably worried right now, with everything that’s happened. But I just wanted you to know, if you’re even hearing this, that we’re fine. All of us are.
In fact, I’ve made a couple of new friends. They’re certainly interesting, to say the very least. Especially Charlie. I’m sure you’d like her.”
Dipper stopped for a second, feeling bad for jumping to what was, in hindsight, a completely irrational conclusion about her.

“Anyway, you remember those viewings from when we were kids? Well, we’re basically doing another one of those. And don’t worry about me and Mabel. We’ll be fine. I promise. I love you. Bye.”

When he hung up, he pulled out the picture from the ultrasound, and stared at it until he couldn’t help but let out all of the emotions that had been boiling up inside the entire afternoon, he laid his head on the pillow, and began crying uncontrollably, not even bothering to put on the sleepwear on the dresser.

He just laid there, letting it all out, and soon found himself sound asleep, his cyclopean felid companion never once leaving his side.

———————————————————————

Meanwhile, on Earth…

The basement of the Shack, former location of the Universe Portal, was a marvel of scientific and technological achievement. Ever since Weirdmageddon, thanks to the money received from the submission of a shit ton of patents, and with a little bit of string-pulling courtesy of a certain flamboyant government agent ally of theirs, it had been renovated and refurbished into a new state-of-the-art laboratory that was shared by both Ford and McGucket, and in his spare time, Dipper.

But right now, the three current occupants of the room, Stanford, Stanley and Pacifica, were still in shock and slight fear, especially in the case of the blonde mother-to-be, at seeing their niece and nephew/sister in-law and husband disappear in a flash of light right in front of them.

“So, Ford,” Stan started, breaking the silence they found themselves in the middle of. “You said you had a theory of what exactly you think is going on?”

Ford released a sigh, before steeling himself for the major bombshell he was about to drop on them.

“Okay. Stanley, recently, I’ve been thinking…”

“When are you ever not?” His brother snarked

“Stan, if you’ll let me…”

“Sorry.”

Ford cleared his throat before continuing:

“Anyway, as I was saying, a side effect of the memory gun that I just noticed; funny that it took me literal years to do so.
But anyway, I realized how quickly you regained your memories, when it should have been permanent, they came back as quickly as they did.”

“Ford, you’re rambling again.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” The six-fingered scientist apologized as he adjusted his glasses.
“More to the point, I fear that Bill may have somehow come back with them. Seeing as how he was destroyed along with your mind, he must have resurfaced with it. Why he waited until now to strike is still a mystery, though…”

“Well, whatever the case, if and when that creepy triangle comes a-knocking, we’ll be ready for him! He’s made a big mistake if he thinks he can mess with the Pines again and get away with it this time!”

“You’re right Stanley. I mean, it’s not like it’s anything we can’t handle. We beat him once, and we can do it again!”

Just after the brothers finished talking, Pacifica felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Fishing it out, she saw a name on the screen she didn’t think she’d ever see again, after all these years:

Dr. Sasha Waybright, fellow former mean girl, and currently esteemed child psychologist.

Wondering what it could be about, Pacifica took the call and put the phone to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey…Pacifica?” Sasha’s voice spoke from the other end of the line, and from the sound of it, she was feeling the same way that Paz currently was: a combination of panic and desperation. In fact, she seemed to be practically hyperventilating.

“Hey, hey. Whoa, Sasha, calm down. Just breathe. What’s the problem?” Paz calmly soothed to her friend.

“It’s just, I’m worried. Like, I’ve been trying to contact Anne the past few hours, but for some reason it’s like she’s not receiving any of my calls. Not even the texts seem to be getting to her. “

Pacifica sighed, before she continued.

“This may sound crazy, and may seem disconnected, but Dipper and Mabel just disappeared; like, there was a flash, and they were just gone!”

“What?” Sasha asked flatly

“I know it's kind of hard to believe, but if you guys can get up here as soon as possible, we’ll try to explain as best we can.”

“So you’re sure about this whole ‘blinking off the face of the planet’ thing, huh?”

“Look, just get up here, and we’ll try to make it make sense, okay?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be right there; in fact, we’ll be on the next flight to Oregon.”

Sasha hung up, and turned her attention to her girlfriend, Marcy Wu, looking at her with a look of solemn determination, before she said to her with that same determination in her voice:

“Marcy, we’re going to Gravity Falls.”

————————————————————————

Back at the Hotel…

Alastor was up again stewing about in his room, thinking, like he had been for the past few weeks.

While everyone else was sound asleep, he found himself in a consistent state of intrusive, disrupting thought. And it was always about the exact same thing: the fact that all of his natural power as an Overlord wasn’t his own, and the nature of how he acquired it.

Even if he did owe part of his power to the deal he made with Queen Lilith just before he arrived in Hell, he was severely limited in his potential due to said deal, in addition to a rather ill-thought out bargain he made with Roo, embodiment and root of all evil in the universe.

He was stuck in a rut for decades, before coming to the Hotel of Princess Morningstar in order to trick… er, ‘manipulate’ her into helping him escape his infernal contract.

But then today, out of nowhere, a group of humans, the first still living souls to arrive here since Dante were portaled in, and with them, that strangely dressed imp.

That imp…that ‘Mxy’, had provided… nay, handed him the information he needed to finally unclip his wings, and he would be sure to use this situation to his advantage.

“And then once I’m free, it’ll be my turn to play the puppeteer”.
Alastor laughed maniacally, before reciting the spell he had heard in the mental broadcast:

“Triangulum, Entangulum. Meteforis Dominus Ventium. Meteforis Venetisarium!”

When nothing happened, he decided to just turn in and try to get some sleep, not knowing what uncontrollable force of evil he had just unleashed, nor the chain of events he had just set in motion.

Chapter Text

—————————————————————
Chapter 3: Getting Acquainted and the Road to Reunion
—————————————————————

-Portland International Airport, OR-

Seated just along the border of the state, in the shadow of Mount Hood, lies Oregon’s largest city, Portland.
Known for its culture, natural beauty and progressive values, it is the urban jewel of the Pacific Northwest.

But for a certain pair of young women, it’s just a stop on the way to a certain small lumber town in Roadkill County, where they hope to get more than a few answers to a very pressing couple of questions currently weighing on their minds.

“OMG, I can’t believe we’re finally going to get to see the real Gravity Falls!” Marcy squeed excitedly, before her expression turned somber, turning to face her girlfriend.

“Although, I didn’t expect it to be under circumstances like these.” Sasha admitted modestly
“Now, let’s try to stay focused on the mission at hand.”

“Right, right. So, Sash…” she continued awkwardly, trying to turn the conversation to a different subject “Pacifica seems really sure about this whole ‘Poof and they’re gone’ theory they’ve got going on, huh?”

“Yeah. I mean, it sounds kind of crazy, but then again, at this point, crazy is just normal for us. So, we should at least give them the chance to explain it out loud. Maybe then it’ll make sense, you know?”

“I guess, but we shouldn’t put it off till we get there.”

The two made their way down to the rental car zone after picking up what little luggage they had brought with them.

When the valet pulled up with the car they were renting, Marcy was somewhat stunned by the familiar shining red paint job.

“So, Sash…any particular reason you picked this? You know, considering it’s the exact make and model of your normal car?”

Sasha shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know, I guess it’s mainly so they’ll know that it’s us when we get there. And it’s nice to have a little familiarity in uncertain times.” She punched Marcy in the shoulder playfully, before gesturing to the car. “Now, get in, Marbles. We don’t have any time to waste! Who knows what Anne is going through right now…”

_____________________________________

Anne followed the path she saw Niffty take towards the kitchen, worried for her due in part to her small stature, and the magnitude of the massive clatter that occurred a few seconds prior, that she undoubtedly had caused.

Fortunately, when she reached the absolutely gargantuan galley, the little white-toned maid seemed to be unharmed, but appeared to be staring dazedly at her reflection in one of the giant (to her) pots.

Anne stared at her with concern in her eyes, before deciding to brush it off, because the food wasn’t going to cook itself! (Or maybe it did here; no way to be sure, really.)

She made her way to her new partner, bent down to her level, and lightly tapped her on the cheek, which broke Niffty out of her daze.

“Why am I here again? What was I doing?”

“We are gonna be cooking together, Niffty.” Anne proudly stated to her.

“I don’t know if you know yet, but I actually have some experience in this field. Back on Earth, my parents actually run a restaurant, and growing up, I spent quite a bit of time there.”

Nifty nodded intently, seeming to understand.

“So, would you like that?” Anne asked, before taking notice of the now empty spot she had been talking to.

“Hey! She’s not gonna be helping too, is she? Niffty asked, pointing accusedly at her reflection “Because I don’t want her to!”

Anne lightly laughed at her spaciness, which reminded her of a certain Taiwanese friend of hers.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” She thought fondly to herself

“So, what did you have in mind, exactly?”

“Well, Mr. Alastor has a thing for dishes that remind him of home; specifically, old family recipes.” Niffty explained as she rummaged through files, before finding what she had in mind, and showed it to Anne.

“Gumbo, huh?” The Thai woman hummed in contemplation, looking the card over. “Never tried it, but it’d be fun to give it a go.”

“So, he’s a New Orleanian. That’s good to know. For a couple of reasons.”

While Anne got lost in thought, Niffty proceeded to swiftly speed around the kitchen, gathering the necessary equipment and ingredients they would be using for their shared experience.

Once that was said and done, Anne read the first step on the card aloud, mainly for her own benefit, seeing as how her partner seemed to have a grasp on these particular types of dishes.

“Okay, according to this, the key to the perfect gumbo is getting the roux just right.” She paused, confused
“What’s a roux?”

“Why, my dear, a roux is a thick, oily flavoring which, when prepared properly, adds a deep rich flavor to the gumbo, and gives it a thick texture.”

Anne’s heart jumped immediately upon hearing that radio-accented voice materialize from out of nowhere, turning around to find its owner standing menacingly in the doorway.

“Oh. It’s just you.” Anne spat sarcastically.

“Well, I couldn’t help but overhear you and Nifty discussing preparing this particular dish for everyone. So I figured I’d lend you assistance. Make sure you don’t make a muck of it.”

At this, Anne raised her eyebrows suspiciously, while Alastor ignored her as he stepped fully into the kitchen.

“You may not believe it, Boonchuy, but I’m also something of a chef myself.” Alastor replied while donning a blood-stained apron with a deer hoof pattern on the front, and drawing a rather large butcher's knife from behind his back.

“Watch and learn.”

Anne flinched worriedly, anticipating the worst as he raised it dramatically above his head…before bringing it down hard onto a spontaneously summoned celery stick, green bell pepper, and onion bulb, slicing, dicing, chopping and mincing them with an impressive amount of skill and grace usually only seen in professional cooking.

“He’s actually pretty good at that.” Anne quietly mused to herself, slightly impressed.

“Yes, I know.” Alastor heaved an annoyed sigh, having overheard her observation.

“Now, the combination of these three vegetables here; back in Louisiana, we call it the Holy Trinity. Nowadays, I refer to it as the Unholy Trinity… for obvious reasons.”

That managed a light laugh out of the Thai-American woman.

“Now if you’d both be so kind as to get started on the roux, so we can get this gumbo off the ground.”

“Oh, right!” Anne smacked her face and glanced back at the card in her hand, having realized she had gotten distracted in her brief conversation with the Radio Demon.

“Now, let’s see…”

“That, and you somewhat remind me of my dear, departed mother”.

_____________________________________

Back on the surface, amidst a labyrinth of imposing, multistory redwoods, a familiar shiny, cherry red convertible traversed the long, winding road, inching ever so closer towards its destination.

“Ooh, I think I see Northwest Manor!” Marcy exclaimed excitedly, pointing out to the aforementioned house on a hill.

“I think you mean the Hootenanny Hut, Mars.” Sasha lightly corrected her “If we’re going by that billboard 10 miles back.” “But seriously, we should try to stay focused. This isn’t a leisure trip.”

As the sun slowly started to dip over the horizon, dappling the sky with warm golds and violet colors painted across the forest canopy as the car passed between colossal trunks, the low hum of the engine softly reverberated through the trees against the soft symphony of nature.

The distant silhouette of the familiar sign, almost barely visible through the trees, promised respite after a long journey. Each agonizing mile fueled a growing sense of anxious anticipation. A reunion long overdue-and answers/an adventure like no other-were just around the bend.

———————————————————————

Luz sat on the bed in the room that she and Amity would be sharing for the next week, while her sweet potato stared out the window at the predominantly red and black skyline; her eyes were glazed over with awe, of all emotions.

“I guess this must be how I must have looked at the Demon Realm all those years ago,”
she whispered nostalgically to Stringbean, who was currently shifted into the form of a cat similar in appearance to Ghost, minus the obvious differences, and letting Luz gently stroke her.

Luz suddenly realized that she hadn’t seen Amity’s Palisman since the first viewing earlier in the day. She hoped she was alright. It was unusual for her (or any palisman, for that matter) to go off on her own, given the inherent bond they shared.

Their room wasn’t anything too fancy, just the bed, dresser, a flatscreen TV and a vintage-looking radio (no doubt provided by Alastor). And she assumed that the others would have a similar setup.

After a few minutes of Amity staring at the increasingly uncomfortable amount of black and red outside, Luz decided to snap her out of it.

“Soo, Amity…” Luz started, unsure of what to say.

“Ah!” Her girlfriend gasped in surprise.

“Oh. Luz! Sorry, I just got lost in my thoughts.” The youngest Blight apologized, “You know, this place is…well, it’s just beautiful.”

Luz averted her eyes momentarily, unsure of what to make of that statement, before deciding to change the subject, with a sly expression creeping onto her face.

“You know, it’s been a while since we’ve had some time just to ourselves, so what do you say we take a moment to get some cuddles in, batata?”

Picking up on Luz’s hint, Amity lay down on the bed and rested her head on her girlfriend’s midriff, causing the Afro-Latina to blush.

After a little bit of doing that, though it was pleasant, lying around in silence soon became boring.

“So what do you say we check out what sort of stuff passes for entertainment down here?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” Amity replied

Stringbean shifted back to her baseline form and grabbed the remote from the table with the lamp, and plopped it into her human’s hand.

When the TV came on, however, the young couple began to wonder if this was a mistake, because it didn’t matter what channel, their eyes were met with an endless barrage of sex, violence, sexual violence, blood, death, porn, brutality, cruelty, and just plain disgusting/depraved imagery.

“Honestly, I’m not sure why I’m surprised.” Luz deadpanned.

She was about to shut the TV off, when a brief flash of something caught her eye. She switched back to said channel, and they were met with what was probably the most intriguing commercial either had ever seen.

“Hi there, I’m Blitzø, the ‘O’ is silent, and I’m the founder of I.M.P.’

“IMP”? Amity parroted, somewhat interested in what they were seeing.

‘Are you a piece of shit who got yourself sent to hell, or are you an innocent soul who got FUCKED over by someone else?”

At that phrasing, Luz scrunched up her face in disgust. It was literally Hell; outside of their royal host, no one by definition could possibly be anything close to innocent here.

‘After lovingly killing my wife for FUCKING THE DELIVERYMAN, you can imagine my surprise when I wound up here, after the state of Ohio killed me.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised, big guy.” Luz stated bluntly, her Palisman angrily rattling at the screen, trying in vain to look intimidating, as if the demon on said screen could hear or see her.

“I really wish I could stick it to the YAPPY JOGGER who saw me hiding the body!”

“Well, too bad you’re in Hell, buddy!” Amity smugly mocked him. “Not much you can do now, I’m afraid.”

“Well, luckily for you, thanks to our company’s special access to the living world, we can help you take care of your unfinished business by taking out anyone who screwed you over when you were alive!”

“Okay…” She paused, before gulping to moisten her now dry throat, her eyes shifting uncomfortably at being forced to eat her own words.
“I guess I stand corrected.”

What followed was a rapid fire montage of three demons killing people, set to a surprisingly, almost inappropriately, catchy jingle about how good said demons were at their job:

“When you want somebody gone/ and you don’t want to wait too long/ call the Immediate Murder Professionals!”

“A hand grenade or cyanide/ we’ll make it look like suicide/ the Immediate Murder Professionals!”

“We do our jobs so well/ because we come straight up from Hell!”

“We’ll kill your husband or your wife/we’ll even let you keep the knife/ we’re the Immediate Murder Professionals!”

“Kids die for free~!”

When the ad came to an end, so did their TV time.
Both girls could only stare in shock at what they had just witnessed, unable to speak.

Amity was the first to break their self-imposed silence, and her reaction was appropriate:

“Okay, Luz, I’m sorry, but what in the Titan was that?!”

“I wish I knew, Amity.” Luz responded, rubbing her arms to get the chill out of her body, Stringbean in kind nuzzling her for comfort.

“Seriously, though, that whole concept is just disturbing.” Luz gasped, having realized something “I mean, who’s to say that someone like Belos hasn’t thought about hiring those guys against us?!”

“Luz, calm down. I’m pretty sure that if he had, we’d have encountered them by now. And if we had, it’s not like we couldn’t take them on and win.” Amity soothed her girlfriend.
“Magic, remember?”

“Yeah. You’re right, sweet potato.” Luz conceded.

“Let’s just agree to never discuss, or even think about that ad again.”

“I accept.” Amity agreed, drawing a certain spell circle to make it official.

Fortunately, the young couple found that train of thought derailed when a small knock came at their door, and a few moments later, it cracked open to reveal the little goat demon behind it.

*GASP!*

“¡La pequeña preciosidad!” Luz squealed in delight, Amity having to hold her back from barreling towards and spooking Razzle further than she already had when they first got here, Stringbean eyeing the little guy with a hint of confusion laden in her eyes, feeling a sense of protection and concern normally reserved for Luz.

After Luz had calmed down, Razzle began baaing a mile a minute. While neither of them had a concrete clue to what he was trying to say, they at least could tell from context clues that it was something akin to
“Dinner is ready.”

Upon hearing that, Amity started out the door, only to stop when she noticed her girlfriend . Concerned, she backtracked to check on her.

When she got back, she found Luz staring at her phone, seemingly contemplating something.

“I’ll be right there.” Luz assured Amity when she noticed her. “I just need to make a quick call.”

“You do that. We’ll be waiting for you.”

With that, she ran downstairs to meet up with the others. When she was out of sight, Luz fished her phone out of her pocket and scrolled to quick-dial, anxiously selecting her mother, Camila’s, profile.

When her ears were met with the voicemail dial tone, while disappointed, she was also not too shocked by that.

So, after trying to figure out how to explain the current predicament she and her friends found themselves in to her mom, she just decided to keep the specific details on the down low for now, and give her an abridged take on it:

“Hola, Mamá.” She began. “So, uhh…something’s come up for me and Amity. Nothing serious, but basically we’re just somewhere…” Luz paused for a second, before staring out at the giant pentagram in the sky, unsure of what word to use, before deciding on:

‘Exotic’.

“Basically, I’m not sure when we’ll be back, exactly, but could you please let Eda know that it’ll be a week at the earliest. Thanks.”

Her voice hitched, catching on a sob she desperately tried to swallow. Luz fumbled with the phone, her fingers suddenly clumsy and uncoordinated.
“Look. I… I should go.” She managed, the words thick and wavering.
“Te amo mucho, mami. Bye.” With that, she pressed the red end call button, the abrupt silence echoing in her ears.

Luz heaved a heavy sigh, before putting her jacket back on, and heading down to dinner, the distinct aroma of something sublimely spicy hanging heavy in the air.

———————————————————————

Mabel dragged Angel down the hotel’s labyrinthian hallways, her grip a vise on his arm. He stumbled, the gaudy wallpaper morphing into a nauseating swirl,
‘Not again.’ He thought, his stomach clenching. A hand on him usually meant trouble. He knew all too well the feeling of being pulled, yanked, *used*. It was, after all, the currency of his existence. But this…this felt different. Not like the squeeze of a loan shark, or the forceful guidance of a disgruntled client.

Or Val. Especially not like Val.

He risked a glance at Mabel, and saw her brow was furrowed with an eagerness that had nothing to do with coin or coercion. A disquieting, yet genuine comfort bloomed in his chest fluff, a feeling long since rendered foreign, only recently rediscovered.
Cherri could drag him anytime, anywhere, her playful jabs and shoves a familiar language of shared chaotic affection. But this girl was something else entirely. They were barely even acquaintances, and he was already being swept up in her wake.

“Che cazzo, Mabel? Angel blurted out, fighting to keep his footing.
“Where the hell are we going?” Mabel’s smile widened, oblivious to the turmoil raging within him.

“Honestly?” She called back, “I have no idea! Just going with the flow!”

Suddenly, Angel found himself slamming his high-heeled feet to a sharp halt. As air hitched in his throat, he noticed that they had stopped in front of pair of double etched glass doors. Beyond them, a shimmering oasis beckoned— ‘The Yacht’. Not officially, of course, but that’s what everyone called the hotel’s pool area; a somewhat snarky nickname which stuck. Ten feet deep in the center, lined with sun-baked loungers, and offering a view that stretched to the edge of the pentagram.

“Oh. My. Gosh!” This place has a pool?!” Mabel squealed giddily, eyes sparkling.

Angel rolled his main eyes. “Honey, it’s a hotel. Did ya think they’d skimp on the chlorine?” He smirked, a flash of gold in the fluorescent light. “Lookin’ to catch some rays? I’m always up for a dip.”

Mabel’s shoulders slumped just a bit.

“I would, but…no suit.” She bit her lip, the disappointment palpable. “Kinda wasn’t planning on a kidnapping and luxury vacation, ya know?”

Angel snapped his fingers. “Hold that thought, sweetheart. Got a couple extras downstairs. Won’t be a minute.” He winked and spun on his heel, clicking against the floor as he darted back the way they came.

A short few minutes later, the clatter of hurried footsteps echoed down the hall growing louder before Angel burst back into view. The hot pink two piece bikini he now sported clung to his chest, accentuating his muscular yet feminine physique.
Heart-shaped sunglasses perched precariously atop his fluffy mop of hair, threatening to slide off with each frantic breath he drew. He skidded to a halt, chest heaving.

“Oh, man.” Angel wheezed. “I am *never* gonna get used to this.” With a flourish of his lower arms, he unfurled a pair of comparatively subdued swimsuits. One was a glittering purple number, the other, a stark contrast, was a gothic black, adorned with an intricate spiderweb pattern. “Well, doll, take your pick. I won’t judge, cause you’ll look fabulous either way.” His grin was genuine, even if his current attire was anything but.

Mabel thought it over for a moment, before:

“You know, I think I’ll go with the black one. I’m feeling kinda bold, and you only live once, so why not?”

Angel smiled hearing this, his gold tooth glinting in the fluorescent lights.

“Good choice, kid. Hell, you can keep it if you’d like. I’ve been meaning to lighten up my wardrobe, anyway.”

Mabel’s heart fluttered at the gracious gesture, accepting the suit, and making her way to the small changing room a few feet down the hall, returning a short few minutes later

“Wow.” Angel breathed out “Ya know, Mabes, you rock that look better than I bet you thought you would.”

“Heh. Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Mabel smiled at the compliment.

“Just to clarify, men are still my preference, but if I were straight, or even bisexual, I would be soaking wet right now.”

Mabel’s face scrunched up at this slightly unnecessary bit of information.

“Too much? Angel asked, before looking down regretfully. “Sorry. Sometimes I just have trouble turning my filter on when I’m off the clock, ya know?” He stopped talking for a second, before deciding to step outside as a way to avoid any uncomfortable silences.

As they stepped out onto the deck of the Yacht, Mabel couldn’t help but notice how…clean the water looked for a pool in Hell.

“Yeah, don’t think I don’t see that bewildered face ya got there.” Angel teased her, having picked up on her confusion, “Basically, the princess has this place set up to give folks a taste of Heaven before they ascend.” He explained, frowning as he finished. “Ya think I’ll ever be up there?” He asked, more to himself than anything.
Saying this caused his knees to buckle, before he dropped onto them at the edge of the pool deck, staring at his reflection in the water with a clear expression of melancholy, a humanoid flash of red and lavender briefly filling his field of vision.

Mabel stood behind him, staring at him in a catatonic state, greatly concerned.

“Hey, Angel” she said, while placing her hand on his fuzzy shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“AHH!!” Angel shrieked, before falling into the water. “What the fuck, Mabel?!” He yelled when he surfaced, a peeved expression painted on his face.

He climbed out of the water and shook as much of it off of himself as he could, before breathing in, then out.

“Look, I-I’m sorry I lost my cool. I just don’t have the best experience with being touched, okay? Most days, the physical contact I get is…let’s just say not pleasant and leave it at that for now.”

“Oh… I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine. How could you? But yeah, my relationship with my job is, how do I put this gently…poisonous, and this hotel is sort of like my Atlantis. It’s a place where I can shake off the expectations my boss places on me, where I can escape from the extremely difficult reality I experience every day, if only for a little bit at a time. Here, I can be the real me, instead of the me that everyone else sees or wants me to be.”

“Wow.” Mabel said, stunned, “ I’m sorry.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.”

Angel eyed a dual set of chairs sitting nearby,the one on the left sitting underneath a beach umbrella, little farther down the deck, leading his human friend over to them.

“I’ll let you have that one there,” he told Mabel, pointing to the sun-shielded chair, “I have no idea how the light down here would affect you, and I don’t want to take the risk and find out.”

“Yeah, that works for me.”

With that, the pair laid back onto the chairs, soaking up the sun, and occasionally making conversation about whatever weird thing popped into their heads

———————————————————————
Later that night
———————————————————————
The weight of the day slammed into Angel the moment he crossed the threshold of his room.
A kaleidoscopic assault of purples and neon pinks swam into view, a familiar comforting chaos. He kicked the door shut and collapsed onto the plush mattress, his muscles screaming in sweet, aching relief. He felt a soft ‘thump’ against his body, followed by a tiny ‘oink’. He blinked, focusing on the tiny pink piglet that was nestling his head onto his chest, a genuine smile tugging at Angel’s lips, softly scratching behind the pig’s tiny ears.

“Hey, Fat Nuggets.” Angel said to the pig. “Daddy spaced, huh? Sorry I forgot to feed you, buddy.” He smiled fondly. “Eh, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, but I’ll tell you anyway…”

_________________________________________

Back in Gravity Falls, the sun was fully past the horizon, and in the town square, the smell of kettle corn and woodsmoke hung thick in the air. Strings of fairy lights winked on above various storefronts, reflecting off the candy-apple red hull of the convertible that was slowly inching its way through the throng of pedestrians who had gathered here for the biannual Night Market Festival and Swap Meet.

Horn taps turned into a sustained bleat as Sasha and Marcy navigated a growing river of pedestrians both human and paranormal.

“Come on, you stupid gnomes! We’ve got someplace to be and a girlfriend to save! Move it!” The blonde in the leather jacket shouted from the driver’s seat of her rental.

“Shmebulock!” One of them shouted back while extending a certain extremity.

“Yeah, same to you, buddy!” Sasha returned the gesture. “So much for small town hospitality.” She grumbled.

She found herself brought out of her anger by the Taiwanese woman sitting in the passenger seat placing a supportive hand on her thigh.

“Hey, Sash. Try to relax.” Marcy told her girlfriend. “I mean, we’re almost there. And, if nothing else, maybe we could spend a little time checking this place out while we wait for the foot traffic to die down.”

Sasha spent a moment thinking about it, before deciding that Marcy was right. As much as she wanted to get to the Mystery Shack as soon as possible, she was letting her worry over Anne get the better of her. Maybe she could afford a short breather. And it might be nice to take this in, have an unofficial date.

“You know what, Mars? You’re right. Let’s just take the night off; spend some time here, rent a motel room for the night, then we’ll meet up with the Pines in the morning.”

With their plan laid, they proceeded to carefully maneuver the car over to one of the designated parking areas. After finding a space that would be quick to get back to in the chance that the crowd ended up thinning out early, Marcy and Sasha got out, and made their way out onto Main Street, which was lined with tents and stands selling substandard food, and souvenirs that were of a significantly higher quality, (not that there was much of a difference) in addition to the occasional carnival game breaking the loop.

Sasha momentarily lost track of Marcy in the madness, before she heard her familiar cadence coming from behind her.

Sasha turned her neck at breakneck pace at Marcy calling her name, and when she laid her eyes on her, they bugged out comically at what she was carrying: some kind of enormous ice cream sundae in what looked like a giant metal bucket, a decently sized novelty spoon sticking out of the frozen dairy monstrosity that rested inside. She was both impressed that Marcy didn’t seem to be struggling with the weight of the thing, since it looked like it literally weighed a ton, and disturbed by the thought of how many calories that affront against food must contain.

“Whoa, Marbles!” Sasha sputtered in a stupor before finding her words “What is THAT?!”

“This stuff…” Marcy started, before drawing in a three deep breaths in rapid succession to explain the creamy concoction she was carrying with full pride:

“Is churned for 72 hours by hand, and includes three scoops each of vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, cookies and cream, mint chocolate chip, and coffee, topped off with hot fudge, butterscotch, peanut butter, caramel, a split banana, a cinnamon cupcake, an angel food cupcake, chocolate syrup, marshmallow cream, strawberries, pineapple, a whole brownie, a Giggle bar, some Chocos, a handful of almonds, milk, dark and white chocolate shavings, some more Chocos, crushed this time, an entire orange, sliced, chocolate chips, peanut butter chips, chocolate sprinkles, rainbow sprinkles, an entire can of whipped cream, and topping all of that off, four little cherries!” She immediately drew another breath. “Whew! I almost passed out.”

“I call it the Wubright Special!”

“Ugh, they sell that?” Sasha asked in disbelief, the insane list of ingredients causing her to turn green around the gills.

“Not exactly.” Marcy answered, rubbing the back of her neck in embarrassment. “There was a manotaur running the booth, and I was able to convince him to let me make my own by telling him that we were friends with Chutzpaur. And I realize now that I may have gone into the zone while doing so.”

“I’ll say…” Sasha stated as she suppressed a look of sheer disgust.

“So…you wanna help me finish it?” Marcy asked her girlfriend enthusiastically, her eyes brimming with sparkles like a kawaii character.

Sasha didn’t want to say no, but she was also concerned about what that Frankenstein monster of a ‘sundae’ would taste like, and frankly she didn’t want to find out. She looked around for some way to avoid having to put so much as a bite in her mouth, and thankfully, she managed to catch a peek at a statue depicting a man in a colonial era outfit assuming a proud, adventurous pose, only with a distinct lack of pants, and a handlebar mustache adorning its long pointy nosed face, which gave her a convenient out.

“Uhh…” she briefly droned, awkwardly getting out of her seat. “I’d love to, Mars, but I just remembered I have to use the bathroom.” She scooted a few steps to her left, before bolting. “I’ll be right back!” She called back.

“Huh?” Marcy hummed in confusion. “That was weird. Oh, well!” She disregarded the thought and began to shovel her edible abomination into her mouth.

Back with Sasha, she made her way through the sea of tourists, locals and local creatures towards the different, yet strangely familiar statue, while being careful not to step on any Lilliputtians that might be walking by.

When the blonde got to the statue, she immediately realized why the subject of the sculpture was so familiar, due in no small part to the giant plaque indentifying him as one Quentin Trembley III, which also emphasized the fact that he was the true founder of Gravity Falls.

“Huh. Good for you, Mr. President.”

She looked just under that text to see a sentence in a smaller font, but noticeable if you were to stare hard enough:

“Funded by the Pacifica Elise Northwest Foundation”.

When she read that, Sasha couldn’t stop herself from letting a small smile etch onto her face, and honestly, she didn’t want to stop it.

“Atta girl, Llama.” She whispered proudly to herself, snapping a picture with her phone to show Marcy later.

“Shit! Marcy!”

Sasha immediately sprinted back to the table, only to find her girlfriend doubled over, her hands on her temples.

“Mar-Mar, Are you okay?”

She only got a groan as a response, before Marcy exhaled a breath that was clearly visible despite the temperature being in the lower 70s.

“Whoa!” She gasped in amazement. “That was… awesome!” Best sundae I’ve ever made or had! I’m going for a second!” Marcy leapt out of her seat, it was stopped by Sasha grabbing her arm.

“Oh, no you’re not.” She scolded Marcy, before jabbing her thumb towards the path that was now starting to clear up.

“Huh.” Marcy hummed “That was certainly quicker than I thought it would be.”

“Yeah.” Sasha agreed, before pushing the thought aside.

“Well, there’s really no use dwelling on it. Let’s get to the Shack. Which lot were we in again?”

“Section C, over by that ridiculously overpriced pretzel stand.” Marcy chirped, spinning on the balls of her feet. “Come on, I’ll race you back to the car!”

Before Sasha could even form a protest, Marcy was a blur of color racing down the path. “Marcy, wait! You’re going to trip!” Sasha yelled, a mix of exasperation and fondness lacing her voice as she hurried to catch up, dreading the faceplant as she pictured it, (and more importantly, anticipating the inevitable reunion.)
_________________________________________

Meanwhile, back in the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel, Dipper anxiously ran his hands through his hair, the surprisingly chilly lobby air doing little to settle the knot currently twisting in his gut.
Subconsciously, he found himself chewing on his pen. A nervous habit; one that, while annoying to Mabel, Pacifica found endearing, but not without playfully teasing him for it incessantly.

He stared longingly at the image in his hand; a small print photo from Paz’s last ultrasound, the tiny, hopeful picture providing him a reason to get through the coming week amongst all this urban hellfire.

The thought of which snapped him back to reality, as he tried to figure out how to best approach the problem he now found himself with: how to apologize to the literal daughter of the Devil himself.

“Wow. There’s something I’d never thought I’d ever do. But then again, that’s my life.”

His spine shivered with pure, unadulterated anxiety as he imagined her father’s formidable, booming personality.
He assumed that despite his actual appearance not conforming to the standard depictions in most religious texts, that didn’t really change the fact that he was still the original fallen angel, and the king of hell.

Yet despite her heritage, Charlie was…good. Radiant, yet stubbornly good. Even down here, in a place where goodness had seemingly gone to die. He envied that. Her unwavering hope in her people, her ability to find light in a realm draped in shadows and darkness.

"Aaawwww..."

That soft sigh drew Dipper out of his thoughts and back to reality, turning his head to the side to see the princess in question, eyes wide and sparkling, a hand clasped over her heart.
Her face was alight with an expression of what could only be described as pure, unadulterated joy, as she watched intently as both of the catlike creatures from both of their groups-Ghost, Amity’s crisp white palisman, and KeeKee, the small cycloptic demon kitty- tumbled and wrestled together in a playful heap.

“Seriously, why is the literal princess of literal hell so freaking adorable?!”

After taking a few short moments to rally himself for what he was about to do, Dipper quietly exhaled, and whispered to himself:

“Here we go…”

He slowly and silently began to scoot towards Charlie, just quiet enough where she didn’t seem to notice his subtle advancements. As soon as he was in close enough range/proximity to properly get her attention, he carefully reached his hand out, and placed it ever so gently on her shoulder.
This small motion unintentionally caused her to jump out of the seat in shock at the sudden, unexpected contact, face planting onto the ground in a heap and scaring off the objects of her attention.

Dipper mentally berated himself for already screwing up what was supposed to be his big do over before he had a chance to even say anything. “Twice in one day must be some kind of record! What is wrong with you, Mason?!”

Luckily, she appeared to be unharmed, so Dipper bent down and helped pick her up, “Oh! Sorry, Dipper. I just…kind of forgot you were there.” She apologized as she brushed dust off her suit.

“No, no. It’s fine.” Dipper told her. “Honestly, I probably should have said something before I did that.” His expression turned to one of concern. “You’re not hurt, are you, by the way?”

“No, I’m fine.” She nonchalantly insisted “Believe me, it takes a lot more than a simple fall to even leave so much as a scratch on a hellborn demon like me.”

This prompted Dipper’s lips to curve upwards, a quiet chortle escaping his nose. Before the sound fully faded, Charlie's head snapped in his direction, a playful glint sparking in her yellow eyes.

“What’s funny?” She asked him, her brow arching just enough to suggest she already suspected the answer involved her.

“Nothing It’s just… demons. They aren’t exactly a new concept for me, but,” he hesitated, his memories pertaining to a certain triangular nightmare flashing through momentarily, “let’s just say you’re a *significant* improvement over the usual.” He complimented the princess.

“Well, what can I say? My species doth protest too much!” Charlie declared with a theatrical flourish, her little British accent seeping through.

Dipper closed his eyes and took a slow, deliberate breath:
*You can do this. This isn’t like when you proposed. It’s just a friendly conversation. You can handle this, Dipper! You got this!* His internal pep talk echoed in his ears. *Yeah, a friendly conversation with the daughter of the Devil. Yeah, no pressure. No pressure at all.*

Luckily for him, Charlie made the first move, sighing wistfully, before speaking up:

“I still can’t believe this is happening! Actual humans, in my hotel! Eeee!!!” When she finished fangirling, she hid her face in embarrassment as her face flushed pink.
“Sorry. Just got a little excited there. It-it’s just so surreal, you know?”

Dipper chuckled, “Yeah, I hear you.” A smirk knowing and slightly mischievous stretched across his face after he said that. The words hung in the air, an idea of where to take the conversation forming as he produced his trusty journal and a pen worn with toothmarks seemingly from thin air.

“Speaking of hearing,” he began, a glint in his eye, “tell me about that little ‘Inkwell I Want’ song you sang in the pilot, or really, *anything* about the… well…‘musical aspect’ of the afterlife that apparently all major religious institutions seem to have missed.”

Charlie’s face erupted into a radiant smile, her eyes gleaming with unbridled enthusiasm. The question had struck a chord, and Dipper could practically see the gears turning in his friend’s mind, her body practically vibrating with excitement.

“Please,” he said, “try not to hurt yourself, though”.

Hearing this, The princess slowly inhaled to calm down.

“Hmm…where to start?” She began, putting thought into her answers, “Well, for as long as I can remember, I’ve always been a little musically inclined. I guess it started with my mom and her lullabies when I was really little.” She sighed wistfully, memories flowing through her head in a tsunami of nostalgia, “her voice was like warm honey laced into a vibrant evening sky.”

“But way before that little…fiasco, as Alastor put it, on the news, I was naturally talented myself, starting off putting on little shows for both my parents and my stuffed animals, as well as having a hidden knack for the piano. In school, I had a habit of getting the lead parts in all the plays, although that may have had something to do with the fact of who my parents were, and the drama teachers probably didn’t want to get on their bad sides, but anyway, as a result of all the envy I got from the Goetia kids, I was banned from participating in the talent shows, because those pompous snowflakes couldn’t handle a little friendly competition.”

Dipper couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at these stories, detailing as much as he could in a spread he had dedicated specifically for the young Morningstar.

“Ha! I mean, their loss.” Suddenly, a bump occured in his mind, having processed one word in particular. “Wait, hold on, Charlie. Did you say ‘Goetia’?” He asked, trying to see if he heard her right, “Like the 72 demons of the Ars Goetia in the Lesser Key of Solomon?” Like Stolas, Andrealphus, Marchosias, Vassago, Paimon, Raum, Botis, Sitri, Balam; guys like them?”

“Uh, yeah?” She answered, like it was the simplest thing ever, which for her, it probably was. “Why?”

She got her answer by receiving a high pitched fan girlish squeal, which, after setting aside a spread of pages exclusively for the Ars Goetia, was followed by a detailed back and forth about the geopolitical goings on between the different classes of Hell’s hierarchy, along with details on said hierarchy.

After this had gone on for a bit, Dipper thought it might finally be appropriate to finally fulfill the task he had originally set out to do: apologize for misjudging a demon.

“Hey, Charlie?” Dipper began, his voice hesitant and his streak of confidence gone. “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure. What’s up?” Charlie’s response was warm, but Dipper saw a subtle rise in her eyebrows. He took another breath, steeling himself.

‘Okay. So far, so good… I think.'

“So, you remember earlier… the demon talk?” He asked her, trailing off after noticing her changing expression. Her eyes flickered, with an almost imperceptible flash of something he couldn’t quite place, a darkening around the edges of her otherwise sunny demeanor. He saw her shudder, before she replied.

“Uh, yeah.” She said, her voice a little tighter than before. “I remember. It was literally ten minutes ago.” She paused, momentarily stopping to anxiously smooth the creases in her suit. “You’re referring to that ‘Bill’ guy, right? The talking triangle?”

Dipper winced, confirming her suspicions. He scrubbed a hand down his face before sighing remorsefully as he went on. “Basically,” he said, his voice heavier and laced with regret, “because of my experiences with him, with a few exceptions, my perception of demons had been left marred, which resurfaced when I first got here as this sense of wariness around you.”

“What?”

“Sorry, that came out wrong! What I’m trying to say is that because you were literally born here, coupled with my bad experiences, I just…” he stopped, groaning at his unintentional generalizations. “Well, I was jumpy, and I put my guard up. I misjudged you, and just as soon I realized that,I needed to apologize. So…I’m sorry. Now, if you don’t forgive me, I completely understand, and I’ll be grateful for the brief time we were friends.”

Charlie’s expression softened, her shoulders relaxing. She gave him a gentle smile.

“No, no. I understand.” Charlie assured him, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Honestly, while I am slightly taken aback to hear that, I can’t blame you for making that assumption.
I mean, hello~, daughter of Lucifer? Now that I think about it, I guess it’d be easy to think that what with all the propaganda that Dad has told me is being spread around up on Earth.”

She looked down in guilt. “I guess I’m also partially at fault.”she sighed, before continuing, “In case you weren’t already aware, I also happen to be *obsessed* with humans. I used to dream about going up to the surface and meeting one. I had this phase where I collected human artifacts that I found in the black markets in Greed, like this one Inkwell movie I’ve heard about, ‘The Petite Fish Girl’. Look, I guess I was so excited about actually meeting one, let alone four, that I didn’t really consider that. So, I’m sorry, too.”

“Well, that’s good.” Dipper brightened, clearly relieved, before his mind clicked with a mix of shock and confusion, and another question popped up.

“Wait, your dad’s Lucifer? Not Satan?”

“Well, kind of, but our relationship isn’t quite how you’d think.” She leaned back, grinning, the playful glint in her eyes sparking back to life. “Grab your journal, Pine Tree, because have I got some stories for you…”

_________________________________________

It was almost midnight, the moon, a silver disc in the inky sky hung heavy, a silent witness to a day that felt like a lifetime. Gravel crunched underneath the tires, each rotation a victory. 618 Gopher Road. The Mystery Shack. ‘Finally’, Sasha thought as she anxiously gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white, her eyelids fighting a losing battle. The scent of stale coffee from the half-empty cup mocked her valiant effort. Marcy, slumped in the passenger seat, oblivious, a landscape of peaceful slumber.
Sasha sighed, the weight of the day, the miles, the looming mystery pressing down.

‘Just a few more minutes. Just a few more minutes to the truth. And maybe, just maybe, a decent cup of coffee.’

Chapter Text

The cherry-red car pulled to a stop in the driveway at 618 Gopher Road, a familiar residence its occupants had seen before but had never thought they’d visit—at least not the real one. They’d been to a constructed replica, but that’s another story.

The car’s engine went silent, and the headlights blinked off, and out from the driver’s seat stepped a blonde 23-year-old woman, who while exhausted from a day’s worth of driving, and miscellaneous misadventures, was being kept awake by her sheer strength of mind, and determination to find a missing girlfriend (and also some rather crappy coffee.)

Sasha Elizabeth Waybright carefully worked her way up the steps of the wood cabin/scientific laboratory/tourist trap, stopping just in front of the ornate hand-carved door. She slowly sucked in a breath of fresh Oregon air, whilst giving herself a pep talk:

“Okay, Sash, you got this, girl.” She told herself, trying to shake out any lingering anxiety she had accumulated from the trip, “If anyone in the world should know what’s going on, it’ll be Dr. Stanford Pines. You know, ‘cause 12 PhDs and all.” She chuckled before raising her closed fist to the door and rapping softly on it three times.

Somewhat unexpectedly, someone came to the door, which shocked her, given how ungodly late/early it was right now.

The person whose eyes met her had a familiar head of platinum blonde hair, cropped slightly shorter than she remembered, and she was taller, but there was no way to possibly mistake her for anyone else. This was her old friend and fellow redeemed mean girl, one Pacifica Elise Northwest, aka Llama.

Clad in a lavender nightgown, she rubbed the sleep from her dark blue eyes, groggily trying to see who was at her door at that late hour.

“Ugh… who could think that this is funny, because I swear-“ She immediately stopped grumbling when she got a good look at the person at the door, her eyes lighting up like she hadn’t just been asleep a few minutes ago, her bright smile lighting up. “Wait…Sasha?”

The other blonde could only bring herself to grin sheepishly before both grown women found themselves squealing like schoolgirls at the sight of the other.

“Oh my gosh, you’re here! I mean, like, actually here! It’s been so long! How have you been? What have you been up to?!”

“What have I been up to? You know what I’ve been up to! What about YOU?!”

“Well, for starters,” she began, joy present in her tone, “I’ve been married for nearly five years to the most perfect man in the world.”

Sasha tried to go in for a hug, but Pacifica gestured for her to be careful, which was when Sasha somehow just then noticed that she was heavily pregnant.

“And then, well, there’s this little miracle, too.” She beamed proudly, her cheeks glowing light pink as she cradled her stomach.

“Oh. My. Frog.” Sasha blurted in shock. “Paz, why didn’t you tell me sooner? This is a flipping big deal! I mean, you’re gonna be a mom, and you didn’t think to tell me?!”

Pacifica chuckled at that, while at the same time mentally berating herself for not thinking to do so sooner. “Sorry. It just didn’t occur to me, given that we were and kind of still are dealing with bigger issues right now.”

Sasha waved off her friend’s concern. “Don’t worry about it, girl. You can make up for it now. Starting with: What’s the baby’s gender, when is it due, and what’s its name?

Paz laughed lightly as she rested her hands on her belly, feeling the warmth of her child inside her.

“Well, to answer your questions: she’s going to be a girl, she’s due in two months, and her name is…”

“HEY!” a gruff voice yelled from the stairway. “Some of us are trying to sleep up here! Would ya mind keeping it down?!”

“Stanley, now is that any way to talk to our guests?” They heard another familiar voice say, as its six-fingered owner stepped out into the landing to welcome the late-night guest, still dressed in his day clothes.

“Ah, Dr. Waybright. Glad to see you got here safely.” Ford greeted her before realizing she was alone, and asked in confusion.
“But where, pray tell, is Marcy? I assumed she would be accompanying you?”

“Oh, don’t worry, Ford. She’s out cold in the car.” She told him, pointing outside to the vehicle in question.

“I see. But aren’t you worried about her getting cold, given that you’re both used to weather several degrees warmer than this?”

Sasha shrugged off his concern with a wave of her hand. “Trust me, Doc, she’ll be fine. In case you’ve forgotten, both of us have also been through far worse than a little nip. And besides, the car came with a blanket in the back.”

“I see.” Ford conceded. “Well, at least come inside yourself. I don’t want you to freeze on my watch. We can’t find out what happened to everyone if you turn into a popsicle. Heh…” Ford stopped when everyone stared at him, silently criticizing his poor attempt at a joke.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Ford cleared his throat to break it.

“Well, at any rate, please come in, Sasha.” He told her. “Make yourself comfortable. If there’s anything I can get for you while you’re waiting, don’t hesitate to ask for it.”

Stan could only facepalm at Ford’s immediate uncaring attitude about unintentionally upending his sleep schedule, while Pacifica could only giggle at her Grunkle-in-law’s grumpiness as she left to get dressed in something more appropriate for the impending info dump.

———————————————————————

In the living room, Sasha was resting her body and her eyes in a fat old yellow armchair, oblivious in her brief attempt at imitating Marcy to the tiny axolotl in the aquarium that appeared to be staring at her intently, like it knew more than its little guppyish face was letting on. It was startled back into its little rocky hideaway when Ford slapped his hand onto the T. rex skull next to the chair, which caused Sasha to jolt awake.

Stan followed shortly behind his brother, properly clothed and nursing a steaming mug, trying in vain to hold on to any semblance of sleep.

“I hope you’re happy, Waybright,” Stan grumbled as he ingested his very early morning cup of joe. “Now that we’re up, something tells me we won’t be getting sleep again for several days to a week at the earliest.”

He turned to face his brother, seemingly attempting to drill holes into him with his glare.

“I missed you, too, Pines.” She chuckled nostalgically, having surprisingly come to miss Stan’s brand of old man attitude and wit.

“Speaking of, Poindexter, why are you roping me and the blonde into this when you already explained this to us?”

“Mainly as a recap, Stanley,” Ford told him bluntly. “You know that I wanted to do that, and it’s also so we can agree on a plan of action before everyone else hears it.”

“Oh, right. Sorry. My bad for not remembering. How silly of me!” Stan muttered sarcastically.

“Stan, please, a more positive attitude would be nice.”

“Well, excuse me, but our niece and nephew just vanished into thin air in front of us! If you ask me, I'm just responding realistically!”

“Will you two please stop fighting?!” Sasha yelled, having gotten tired of their sibling argument.
She got out of the chair and calmly reiterated herself. “I’m sorry about that, and I get it, we’re all coping with a disappearance of the supernatural kind. But yelling at each other isn’t going to bring them back.”

“Right, right. Now, if both of you would follow me, we’ll get you up to speed in the basement. Pacifica’s already down there, and I don’t want her using the 3D food printer to augment her latest craving. Again.”

“What do you mean by ‘again ’?”

“I’ll tell you later, okay? Let’s just get down there.”

As the four of them departed for the basement lab, they remained unaware that from its hidey hole, the tiny aquatic salamander continued to stare out at the humans just beyond its tank, its eyes a pair of pinpricks glowing in the darkness.

———————————————————————

Later, in the Lab…

The renovated Pines Family Laboratory’s layout and design perfectly incorporated a surprisingly seamless blend of 1980s Cold War era computers salvaged from the old lab, and newer, much more modern gadgets and appliances that looked like they were stolen from an Apple Store, the layout and design of the lab matching this scheme by incorporating the blend perfectly.

Right now, Pacifica, now dressed in a more comfortable lavender maternity shirt with a matching pair of sweatpants, was sitting in a worn-out office chair, eating a slice of funfetti cake inside of a sautéed beef steak sandwich, her latest craving.

“Don’t worry, sweetie.” She said reassuringly to her daughter, currently in her stomach. “We’ll find out what happened to your daddy soon enough.”

As if on cue, she heard a small ding, and from the elevator emerged her great uncles-in-law, as well as Sasha. She hastily shoved the greasy, frosting-coated monstrosity off the panel she had lain on into a trash can, carefully sitting up while wiping her face clean, which caused the crumbs lacing her bump to fall onto the floor.

She straightened her posture, wiping furiously at her face. A cascade of crumbs, like fallen stars, dusted her swollen belly and tumbled to the floor. Ford’s lips thinned for a fleeting moment as his eyes flickered over the scene, taking in the evidence of Pacifica’s indulgence.

He quickly dismissed the visual infraction, a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth the only remaining sign of his displeasure. With a curt nod, he directed Sasha towards Pacifica. Once Sasha was settled beside Pacifica, a silent supporter, Ford anxiously adjusted his spectacles, and the small movement amplified the charged air. He cleared his throat.

‘This is it.’ Sasha thought, ‘The revelation is at hand.’

“Again, thank you for coming here on such short notice, Dr. Waybright.” Ford began with a hint of solemnity.

“No, it’s fine.” She replied, anxiety playing on her mind as the impending reveal loomed over her so close that it might as well have been breathing in her face. Sasha looked on intently as Ford pulled in a long, hard breath through his nose, while Stan apathetically took another swig of his coffee.

“Ok…” he continued, his six-fingered hands fidgeting to try to alleviate the unease he was going through. “Now, Sasha. I know that you and Marcy are just as worried about Anne as we are about our family. Now, keep in mind that what I’m about to tell you is just a working theory, but you still might want to hear me out.”

“Why?” “I mean, from the way you’ve all been hyping it up, as little as I’m aware of, it seems to be just your standard case of interdimensional weirdness.”

“Well, not quite,” Ford replied with a palpable aura of foreboding disquiet, before sighing concedingly and continuing:

“Look, although it’s still just a theory, what little evidence we could gather has led me to believe that these disappearances are the work of none other than…”

Ford paused momentarily to properly steel himself for the hard reveal, looking at both of the blondes before him, one more so than the other, and uttered a single, simple syllable with a hateful venom tinging the word, that held a copious amount of meaning, because it completely changed the trajectory of whatever train of thought Sasha had plowing around in her mind about whatever she thought they were dealing with:

“Bill.”

Even after the name dissipated into the air, the tension it had released still hung heavy, running along the backs of those who had already been aware, and a heavier, sharper chill running up Sasha’s spine, her breath hitching in her throat.

“W-w-wait. Hold up!” she stuttered in disbelief, waving her hands in front of her. “Are you saying that Bill’s somehow come back from…whatever hell he ended up in?”

“Yes.” Ford hated to confirm it, but as far as he was aware, it was the truth. “As for my reasoning, well…. As you may recall, or maybe not, given how long it’s been (from both of our perspectives), in the finale of our show, Bill recited an incantation.”

“I don’t remember that. All I remember was a bunch of vague gibberish.”

“Here, this may help.”

To help better illustrate his finding, he pulled out a worn handheld tape recorder and pressed the ‘play’ button, and from the speaker emanated a mass of static, followed a few seconds later by an ominous message:

'AXOLOTL…My time has come to burn. I invoke the ancient power that I may return.'

Following that, and the tape’s end, Sasha could only stare blankly into space, her jaw hanging slack from the audible confirmation that this was far worse than she or her girlfriend was expecting.

“Oh…crap.”

“Oh crap, indeed.”

After trying in vain to make heads or tails of how this was even remotely possible, Sasha decided to defer to the resident expert on Cipher and let him share his opinion.

Ford sighed dejectedly, which didn’t bode well for the hopes she had for a plan of action.

“Look,” he said, "Again, we’re all just as confused by all this as you both are, and we’re especially unclear why Bill’s waited until now to exact revenge, but considering the obvious.” He gestured to Pacifica and her baby bump before resuming his monologue/summation:

“It makes a semblance of sense in my opinion. He must have taken notice of the anxious anticipation we’re going through, and he decided, with our guards lowered, in addition to the amount of time it’s been since we last dealt with him, that now was the perfect time to strike.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Sasha conceded, seeing the logic in Ford’s reasoning.

“Yeah, but that still doesn’t explain why he’s roping you three into all this,” Stan interjected

“Actually, Stanley,” Ford responded, making his way to a bookcase, grabbing a locked metal box and bringing it over to the counter, and setting it down. He carefully put on a pair of surgical gloves tailored to his unique anatomical imperfection and inserted the key into the lock on the box, carefully unlocking and removing its contents.

“I think it might.”

The item he was holding appeared to be a small black book that appeared to be made of brimstone, an uncomfortably familiar triangle symbol adorning the cover, only colored a hellish red.

While Stan looked on in abject horror at the eldritch tome that had been removed from its containment, the girls did the same with a more confused cadence in their eyes.

Ford cleared the countertop of random debris and carefully set the book down onto a sterile tarp, an ominous obsidian-colored ooze attempting to make its way onto the counter, only being stopped by said tarp.

“Ford, we agreed we’d never take that thing out for anything!” Stanley yelled in alarm. “That damned thing is dangerous.” He shouted, hoping that would convince his brother to put it back in the box. “Well, kind of,” he quickly rephrased.

Pacifica and Sasha exchanged bewildered looks. Sasha voiced their shared question:
“What *is* that thing?”

The book pulsed faintly with a sinister energy, the triangle emblazoned on the cover seeming to stare back at them with malevolent intent.
Ford took account of the looks on their faces and decided to tell the whole story:

“It started just after Weirdmageddon. I was packing for our investigative expedition in the Arctic when I found it sitting in my knapsack. I could almost sense it calling for me to take it out. Against my better judgment, I did so.
Thankfully, I’d learned from my previous mistakes and immediately tossed it into a trash can, shot it up, and dragged it out to Crash Site Omega and hurled it over the edge, watching as it exploded at the bottom.”

Upon hearing this, Pacifica and Sasha let out a duo of deeply relieved sighs, but Stan tensed up, knowing that Ford wasn’t finished.

“Despite that, the thing reappeared under my pillow the next morning. After that, I did to it every conceivable method of destruction I could think of, including feeding it to Mabel’s pet pig, but to no avail, it kept coming back like nothing had ever happened to it.”

“Huh. That explains why Waddles was sick for twelve hours that day.”

“I finally managed to get rid of the thing by tossing it into a leftover dimensional rift while we were out sealing them.”

“Even after finding out its true nature, we still decided not to take any chances with it, which is why we put it in… well, this.” He patted the box, which exuded a metallic, tinny clank.

Pacifica was still confused, though. “I’m sorry, but what I don’t get is if you threw the original book into a rift, how do you still have a copy now?”

Ford replied with a cadence that reeked of regret and slight embarrassment:

“Before I did that, I decided to keep a sample of its ooze. To study it, of course.” He seemed to forget about the original topic after that, geekily going off on a short tangent, “From what I’d been able to gather, it seems that the ooze is, to a certain degree, sentient. When it’s separated from its source, it can survive on its own for a short time, but it would die if it didn’t latch onto a host as soon as it could, like a symbiote.” So due to that small weakness, in addition to it not being fond of the cold, I contained it in a glass vial, storing it in a freezer when not studying it.”

“The Book, Ford.” Stan coughed.

“Right. Right, right.” Ford remembered and immediately got back on track. “Anyway, long story short, years later, the sample escaped and latched onto one of Dipper’s cryptozoology textbooks from college, recreating the original book, and necessitating the need for the box.”

“Now, while I’ll admit while this thing can be incomprehensible and all over the place at times, and not just because it changes based on the current reader’s mental state (at one point, there was an entire two page spread on silly straws, of all things), there was, and still is something near the end that might just be of use to us.” He urged his brother, niece in law and guest over to him, opening the book and speeding through it, the blank, starry pages glitching as they desperately attempted to keep up with the faux-perusal, before Ford stopped on an holographic image of a hot pink crystalline structure the size of a building floating in the middle of an astral void.

Encased inside the crystal was a giant brain-like facility dotted with tiny lights. A small asteroid thicket surrounded it, crystals protruding from a few, and at its edge, resting soundly in controlled orbit, one had a metal signpost protruding from it, said sign being holographic, and it read in blocky, pixelated letters:

“Welcome to the Theraprism.”

“This here,” Ford explained, “is what I meant when I said that this book might help us.”

“What is it?” Pacifica asked, considerably intrigued.

“I’m not entirely sure myself, but from what information could be gathered from both the pages, and more recently, a prophetic dream I had, it’s a cosmic rehabilitation clinic for the worst of the worst villains in the multiverse.” He pointed to the next page, which depicted Bill in group therapy, holding his hand close to his well, not his head per se, more like his axis- an exasperated/distressed expression in his eye.

“Huh,” Sasha snorted, “So that’s what he’s been up to lately. Gotta admit, it’s a lot more anticlimactic than I expected.”

“I know, right?” Stan agreed.

“What I’m getting at is if we could somehow get into contact with them, that they just might be able to give us a clue, if not a lead.”

“Uh, there might be a problem, guys,” Pacifica said nervously, having noticed a microscopic bit of text, almost like a disclaimer:

‘Outside of Time’

Despite this apparent setback, Ford didn’t look at all deterred. If anything, it only seemed to make him look more determined.

“Outside of time, yes. But not space!”

He fished around in his coat pocket before pulling out a pink crystal that resembled the Theraprism, only much, much smaller, as well as a small, worn piece of paper. He held the crystal out in his palm and the paper between his fingers.

“You remember the ‘prophetic dream’ I mentioned, right?” Ford asked, “Of course you do, what am I saying? When I woke up from it, this crystal was lying under the pillow, like some interdimensional tooth fairy left it, and this note accompanied it.” He placed the note down and magnified it, which revealed the message:

‘If you wish to reach us, beep me twice. - A’

“So, what are we waiting for, Sixer? Let’s beep the damn thing and get the kids back!”

“Hold up,” Sasha said. “Let’s wait for Marcy to wake up and get her in here before we do that.”

The Stan twins looked at one another, silently agreeing on that course of action. Stan immediately began heading back towards the elevator, sleep deprivation gnawing at his mind. Meanwhile, Ford, having put the tiny pink rock back into his pocket until morning, wrapped the Book in its tarp and sealed it back inside its metal prison.

Seeing that both of her hosts were busy for the time being, Sasha decided to take this time to have a light jab at Pacifica’s expense.

“Soooo…” she began, a playful lilt in her voice. Pacifica’s eyes snapped to meet hers, a mixture of apprehension and exasperation flickering across her face.
“I gotta say, Paz, I’m happy for you.”

“I know.” A gentle exhale escaped her lips, barely audible, “I’m a lucky girl to have such a loving husband like him.” She traced a pattern on the countertop, a twang of bittersweet sadness occupying her thoughts. “I remember this one time I was craving strawberry-rhubarb pie at three in the morning. Dipper drove all the way to Greasy’s Diner just to get me a slice. And lately…well, since the little one’s decided to make her presence known…” she patted her stomach, “I haven’t lifted a finger. He scrubs the toilets, folds the laundry, and even massages my feet after a long day. Says it's his ‘royal duty’ to pamper his queen.” A light blush dusted her cheeks. “Honestly, he’s turned into the world’s most attentive butler, all because of a few hormonal whims and a growing bump. I don’t know what I did to deserve such a man.”

Sasha’s mischievous smirk faltered. The playful glint in her eyes softened, replaced by a genuine warmth. She’d intended to tease Pacifica mercilessly about having landed someone like Dipper. But hearing the quiet adoration in her friend’s voice, seeing the contented glow radiating from her, the teasing died in her throat. “Wow,” she breathed, her own words surprising her, “That’s… that’s incredible, Paz. I mean it. I’m happy for you.” Pacifica smiled, a genuine, radiant smile that chased away all traces of weariness.

“Thank you so much, Sash.”

——————————————————————-

The sun came up over the rocky horizon, bathing the area in a warm, honey-orange glow.

As the light crept into the clearing where the Pines’ home lay, shining onto and reflecting off the ruby red rental car.
Marcy, who had been lying in the passenger seat all night, rustled from her state of sleep back into consciousness, wiping a particle of drool from her lip and rubbing the remaining bits of sleep from her eyes.

As she regained her bearings after sleeping for hours on end, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and was immediately met with more than a few texts from Sasha, the first few reading urgently:

“It’s worse than we thought!”

“We’ll fill you in.”

“Get inside! Quick!”

Whatever remaining tiredness Marcy may have been harboring instantly vanished as she clumsily struggled to open her door, falling face-first into the dirt when she did get it open.

She brushed as much of it off of her as she could before sprinting towards the house door, nearly tripping when she got to the steps, before she stopped herself.
She found the front door had been left wide open, which she chalked up to it not having been noticed in all the hasty recent goings on, carefully closing it behind her as she went inside.

Marcy traversed the narrow, mazelike halls of the rustic, antiquated cabin, trying to find any passing semblance of activity. She briefly passed the kitchen before swiftly backpedaling, having sworn she had noticed a familiar shade of scarlet red even through her remaining bleariness. And sure enough, wearing a Park Ranger’s uniform and pouring coffee into a mug emblazoned with a Gravity Falls National Park logo, a small wooden orange beaver sitting on the table next to her, was none other than…

“Wendy?”

Upon hearing her name, the former lumberjill let out a startled gasp, nearly dropping her cup, just managing to save it, though its contents weren’t so lucky. She clutched her chest, her heart pounding against her ribs as she recovered from the sudden shock.

“Oh, my God!” Wendy gasped when she realized who had addressed her, though she had a hard time believing it at first.

“Wait…Marcy?” she gasped in disbelief.

“Heh. Yeah, it’s me.” Marcy chuckled, sheepishly rubbing the back of her neck. “Hey, Wendy. How have you been?”

“Well, I’m gonna have to make another cup of coffee.” Wendy groused half-sarcastically, “But in all seriousness, I’ve been doing pretty good.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.” Marcy beamed. “I see you got into the National Park business.”

“Yeah, it’s a pretty good deal. I get to stay close to home, I’m close to nature, and it turns out I like working with kids.”

“What do you mean? I thought you were already good with them?”

“I am, but basically, I run these little woodworking workshops. They seem to love them, likely in no small part due to this little dork.” She gestured to Lumber and scratched him behind the ears, causing the beaver palisman to wag his tail in happiness.

“Enough about me, though.” Wendy laughed, happy to catch up, “How about you? How’s that webcomic of yours doing? Amphibiland, right? We already knew about it, but I figured I’d ask, you know?”

“Oh, pshaw!” Marcy gushed. “It’s doing pretty well. As it happens, I just uploaded a new chapter just before we came up.”

“Oh, yeah!” That reminds me, though, "What are you doing up here, anyway?”

“It’s not just me.” Marcy revealed, “Sasha’s here, too!”

“Whoa, nice! But seriously, what are you guys doing here?”

“Well…” Marcy briefly hesitated, struggling to find the words, “that’s kind of hard to explain.”

“Wait, you don’t have to tell me,” Wendy spoke up. “It wouldn’t happen to have something to do with Anne, would it?”

Marcy took a second to process that Wendy was somewhat onto the reason before she sputtered out:

“Uh, y-yeah…Y-yes. Actually, yes! But how did you…”

“Eh, when you’ve spent as much time in the Pines found family as I have, you tend to pick up more than a few observational skills,” Wendy explained. “And a couple of nights ago, both Mabel and Dipper vanished at his and Paz’s baby shower.” She snapped her fingers to emphasize her point.
“Now, if I had to guess, since you’re both here, something similar must have happened to Anne, which is what brought you here.”

Marcy’s jaw went slack. Her eyelids fluttered, struggling to keep her gaze fixed on Wendy. A silent “Wow” formed on her lips, then vanished. She knew she wasn’t the most perceptive person, but that…that was something else. Frankly, she was stunned at the intuitiveness of it all.

“We always come here in the mornings,” Wendy explained, “The coffee here is much better than the crappy, cheap stuff they have in the break room at work. Wakes me up infinitely better. That, and the Shack feels like home, you know? Lots of memories here.”

“Yeah, I hear you.” Marcy nodded in agreement, knowing exactly what the redhead was saying.

“I’m gonna be sticking around,” Wendy continued, her smile fading slightly, “But I’m diving headfirst into the case. Took two weeks off work and I’m ready to roll. So,” she bumped Marcy’s shoulder playfully, “we’re stuck together for however long this takes, Mars.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, a synchronized chime erupted from their phones. That could mean that the Stans had found something. Whatever updates they had on the twins couldn’t wait.

“Welp,” Wendy groaned as she rose out of her chair and cracked her back, “the lab beckons. Let’s see what the old geezers learned about all this, shall we?”

“Alright, baby!” Marcy cheered, “We’re coming for you, Anne!”

With that, Wendy picked up Lumber and placed him on her shoulder, and the two of them made their way to the gift shop and the vending machine within, ready to chase shadows and bring their friends home.

———————————————————————
The glass of the aquarium was cold against my amphibious skin, a constant, dull hum against the symphony of galaxies I hold in my gaze and infinite universes I keep watch over. Beyond the shimmering barrier, two blurry giants sway. One, a curtain of auburn. The other, a waterfall of darkness- their colors, like their fleeting thoughts, were a pale imitation of the vibrant tapestry woven beyond this glass cage. The untold worlds born over untold eons, future timelines teetering on the precipice. I sense a silent cosmic tremor echoing, as the beast prepares for his return. A cosmic chessboard is being assembled, and they, oblivious, stumble towards a battle for the very future of creation.

May fate be ever in their favor.

Chapter Text

__________________________________

                  Chapter 5: Overture

———————————————————

Back in Hell

In the morning, the humid, yet also arid wind blew through Dipper’s window. At the same time, the standard sounds of hellish violence and depravity echoed outside, causing him to toss and turn as he remembered the events that had happened the day before. He and Mabel getting warped away from the baby shower and Earth, waking up in the In-Between Realm, reuniting with their fellow protagonists, before finding themselves in literal Hell to watch another animated interpretation of someone else’s life experiences, only this time for some imp’s seemingly sick, twisted amusement. 

Dipper bolted awake with a start, sharply gasping for breath. “Pacifica! You would not believe the crazy dream I just…had?” He looked around his room as he realized that the previous day’s events had actually happened, and sighed in defeat. 

“Well, I guess we’re really doing this.” 

He heard a knock at the door, and from behind it, the gentle voice of their other host, Charlie Morningstar, crown princess of, and heir to, the throne of Hell. (Which honestly surprised him. Frankly, he wouldn’t have guessed Hell would be a monarchy; in fact, he had personally had the headcanon that, if anything, it’d at least be a dictatorship, if not completely lawless and chaotic.) 

“Hey, Dipper. How’d you sleep?” She asked from behind his door. “Are you…still sleeping? I’ll let you get back to it if you are. But if you’re up, I wanted to tell you that breakfast is downstairs. I mean, if you’re hungry.” 

When he didn’t respond right away, Charlie turned around to go back down, but she whipped back around when she heard the door creak open. Dipper emerged from within, and KeeKee immediately bolted out of the room towards her owner. Charlie scooped her up into her arms. 

“There he is!” She exclaimed cheerfully while nuzzling the monochrome cycloptic cat close, before noticing the downhearted expression on his face. 

“Uh…Dipper? Are you okay?” Charlie asked him concernedly. 

“Huh?” 

“Oh. Yeah. I-I’m fine, Your Highness.”

Charlie didn’t know much about humans, but she did have enough social knowledge from all the galas and other functions she’d had to attend in her admittedly not all that short life to know that that was a lie.

“Uh-huh. Well, if you ever need someone to talk to about anything, feel free to come to me. And please, call me Charlie.”

“Thanks…Charlie”. Dipper said, giving his first genuine smile since arriving at the Hotel. 

“No problem. Now, let’s get some breakfast. I hope you like pancakes.” 

Downstairs

Whilst that was happening, everyone else was filling up their plates at a breakfast buffet set up with pastries, fruit, and other assorted offerings. The main offering was a batch of golden pancakes that were the brainchild of Charlie’s dad, Lucifer himself.   

Mabel, in particular, was helping herself to some eggs. She had briefly been concerned whether or not it was in poor taste to have them when you’re in the company of a sentient egg creature, but she figured she’d worry about that later because they were pretty good.

Right now, she was finishing polishing off her food when she heard a soft grunting noise at the foot of her chair. 

When she looked down at the noise, her eyes were met with the sight of a cute little pig with tiny spikes on its body and a barbed tail. The little guy was looking up at her with obvious curiosity in its big, currently sparkling eyes, which she couldn’t blame it for. It had most likely never seen a human before, and if she was in his hooves, she’d probably be curious about her, too. 

“Oh, my gosh, a pig!” She internally squealed, not wanting to bring attention to herself. 

“Hi there, little fella.” She cooed to him before she thought of something.

“You hungry, little guy?” She said to the pig, putting her plate on the floor. 

The pig responded by immediately gobbling the plate’s remaining contents. 

Mabel giggled to herself, “Well, I guess you were hungry. You want me to get you some more?” 

Before the pig could respond, she heard a familiar New York accent calling out.

Angel approached the piggy and picked him up. 

“Oh, there you are, Fat Nuggets.” He said to the now-named demonic porcine as he cradled him in his arms. “I’ve been looking for you. Thanks for keeping an eye on him, Mabel.” 

Mabel stared at Angel, starry-eyed, before speaking:

“Oh, my gosh! You have a pig? I have a pig!” She squeed. 

“Huh. No kidding.”

“Yeah. His name is Waddles!”

“Waddles, huh? Gotta say, that’s an interesting choice of name.”

“Not as interesting as ‘Fat Nuggets’. Why do you call him that?”

“Well, two reasons: One, because he’s a little pork bun, and two, he’s an adorable little nugget of joy, like the little chocolate nuggets at the bottom of an ice cream cone. You know those things?” 

“I love those things!” 

“You know, kid, I think you and I are gonna get along better than I already thought.” 

The pair found their conversation being cut short by Charlie bursting in, energetically greeting everyone with Dipper in tow.

 In a seat across from them, wrapped in a plush blueish-purple robe, Vaggie sighed fondly, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. 

“Trust me, I have no idea how she’s so bubbly in the morning. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” A cute fond chuckle escaped her lips. 

“Aww, Vaggie! Come here!” Charlie squealed, sneaking a quick peck on her girlfriend’s cheek, causing her to blush.  

Charlie looked over to Dipper, who had taken a seat in between his sister and Anne, oblivious to the stinging glare he was visually drilling into Alastor, himself sitting down the way from him, sipping from his own mug, before the princess zipped over to the breakfast buffet set up against the wall, and started loading up a plate with the (literally) sparkling pancakes (due to the gratuitous flakes of gold leaf sprinkled in them) and after she was done drowning them in syrup and smothering them in whipped cream, topping them off with a single strawberry for garnish, she made her way back to the token male of her living guests, and set the plate down in front of him. 

“Well, as the Spanish say, Bon appétit. Enjoy!” She told him before rejoining Vaggie, oblivious to the glance between her and Luz that screamed, ‘No, they don’t.’

Dipper stared down at the plate, which was more topping than actual pancake at that point. 

“Honestly, this is more Mabel’s thing, but I shouldn’t be rude.” He thought before grabbing his fork, slicing a bite off the stack, and warily placing said bite into his mouth. When it passed his lips, Dipper found his mind exploding from absolute perfection. He immediately began shoveling the syrupy stack down his throat; he didn’t care if he looked like a pig to everyone else. These things were incredible! 

When he finished, he just stared out at the wall, gobsmacked. After his mind recomposed, he had one thing to say:

“Wow,” he breathed, “just wow!” 

“I take it you liked them?” Charlie asked him, squeaking excitedly as she bounced in her seat.

“Liked them? Are you kidding?! They were WOW! I don’t have any words that could do them justice!” He told her.  “Remind me to ask you for the recipe so I can make them myself when we get home!” 

“You got it!” Charlie agreed. “Although you might want to ask my dad, seeing as how it’s technically his recipe…” 

“Gotcha,” Dipper said, still mesmerized, “Anything to hold onto those little pieces of heaven.” 

The groups found their breakfast ending by Mxy calling out, “Alright, chuckleheads, gather ‘round in the lobby! It’s Showtime!” From the other room came a sharp *snap!* and a frustrated grunt from Vaggie as she rose out of her chair and put her mug in the sink, her robe having been replaced by the crisp lines of her usual attire. She muttered miscellaneous obscenities to herself as she walked through the door, the others not far behind.

In the Parlor

The group filed into the lobby to find the extravagant movie theater setup restored.

 Alastor appeared to seethe with unpronounceable but palpable anger at the sight. 

“I see that we’re stuck with this, then.” 

Oh, no, no, no,” Mxy chuckled, having popped up behind him, briefly giving him a startle before he recomposed. “It'll go away when we get through this at the end of the week. “Hope that’s not a problem.” He said with a catlike smile playing on his lips. 

“Oh, it’s fine,” the Radio Demon fumed as he took a seat, Niffty plopping down onto his lap. “Just peachy.” 

“Hey, come on, Al. Look on the bright side!” Charlie said, trying to encourage him. “This’ll be fun…and potentially therapeutic,” she whispered the last part, more to herself than anyone. 

When a seating arrangement that everyone was comfortable with was established, Mxy cracked his back and let out an exhausted groan, muttering something about a fight while in the form of a giant blue blob and getting clobbered by a giant green bat. 

“Wait, when did you become a blue blob?” Luz asked

“AND WHEN DID YOU DO T-” Amity shouted

“ONTO MORE IMPORTANT THINGS!” Mxy shouted, cutting her off before the white-haired, Smurf-blue imp poofed in front of the screen to announce the titles of the episodes they would be watching today:

“Okay, the first of today’s two episodes is called…” he paused, drawing out the anticipation. A low, exaggerated hum filled the room. Finally, with a theatrical flourish, he threw his arms wide and declared:

“Overture!”

Luz clasped her hands to her cheeks, a gasp of excitement escaping her lips, “It really is a musical!” 

Charlie chuckled, a warmth spreading through her chest, and her heart fluttering. It was a simple compliment, but the genuine enthusiasm in Luz’s voice resonated. 

“Thanks, Luz.” Charlie managed, her voice catching slightly. She blinked rapidly, trying to keep the welling tears at bay. “That means a lot.” 

“Alright,” Mxy piped up, interrupting the tender moment, but regaining everyone’s attention in the process, “as for Episode 2, its title is 'Radio Killed the Video Star.” He broke into a surprisingly accurate rendition of the song, his voice processed into a synthesized harmony. 

“Uhh…” Mabel tilted her head, a furrow appearing between her brows. “I don’t think you said it right.”

A shadow seemed to fall across Alastor’s face, his smile stretching tautly. “Oh, trust me, my dear,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down spines. “He did”. 

Every eye in the room, even those accustomed to Alastor’s unsettling presence, darted towards him, a collective unease settling in their stomachs as they stared at Alastor uncomfortably. 

Mxy, sensing the air thickening with unspoken dread, clapped his hands together a little too forcefully, forcing a laugh that echoed emptily in the increasingly tense silence. 

 “Right! Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

****

Hazbin Hotel

Episode 1 

“Overture”

(The show’s theme, a jazzy little number, plays as a blood red curtain opens to reveal the title card as it lights up, KeeKee flying in and shifting into her key form to make the ‘T’ in ‘Hotel’.)

(Right first thing in the show, we get a little info on this universe’s version of Genesis, presented through silhouette animation. How in the beginning, there was only Heaven, how it was ruled by beings of pure good called angels, and how they guarded the universe from evil. 

Least among these majestic beings was Lucifer, a literal head in the clouds dreamer who wished to share his incredible ideas with creation.)

Charlie watched the sequence with rapt attention despite knowing full well how it went. This was her favorite childhood bedtime story, the story of how her parents met and fell in love, brought to life for everyone she cared about to see. She couldn’t help it as a warmth bloomed in her chest, radiating outward until it settled into a quiet, unwavering beaming smile of pride. 

Meanwhile, Dipper’s pen scratched furiously across the aging parchment of his Journal, capturing every detail of the unfolding sequence.  

(Despite his eagerness to pitch in, the other angels view him as a burden, a troublemaker. 

So he could only watch as his family expanded the universe without him, creating the Earth and everything on it. And from its dust came Adam and Lilith, the first of mankind.)

“Uh, you mean Eve, right?” Luz asked, slightly confused. She didn’t remember much from Sunday school, the brief time she had attended, but she was fairly certain the story didn’t unfold like this.

“No, it’s Lilith.” Charlie clarified, “It’ll make sense in a second.”

(Despite being equals, Adam demanded complete control, insisting that Lilith submit to his every whim. In defiance, she fled the Garden of Eden in tears. Lucifer ended up being drawn to her by her anguished cries and fiery independence, sparking the beginning of a beautiful, powerful love.)

A collective “Aww…” rippled from the four girls, this being the first time they’d heard this take on the story, but it was genuinely a sweet sight, especially for Hell. 

“That is so beautiful.” Anne gushed, a tremor in her voice, her eyes misting over. “I mean, I’m a sucker for a good romcom, but this is better because technically it's real life!” 

“I know!” Mabel agreed, “It’s like Romeo and Juliet!” As soon as she said this, everyone stared at her, her face flushing pink with embarrassment. “Except, you know… nobody dies.” She quickly amended her previous statement. 

(Together, the couple attempted to share free will with humanity by gifting the Fruit of Knowledge to the new wife of Adam, Eve, who accepted it without hesitation.)

“And we all know how that turned out,” Dipper muttered, a mix of dread and resignation in his voice. 

“I don’t,” Amity said, genuine confusion clouding her features. 

“Well, you’re about to find out,” Luz told her girlfriend, squeezing her hand nervously. 

(Unfortunately, from this one small moment of insubordination, evil was able to leak out into the world, and as a result, a new realm, one of darkness and sin, was born. Hell.) 

(As punishment for destroying the fragile harmony that they had worked so hard to preserve, the higher ups of Heaven banished Lucifer and Lilith to the hell of their own making, the now fallen angel being forever unable to see the good and creativity that came from his gift, only those who used it to commit evil, causing the once wide-eyed idealist to lose his spark.)

Seeing the story take this turn, although it was to be expected, it stung surprisingly more than anticipated. Luz, especially, found herself able to relate to it, a pang of sympathy twanging in her heart. 

(But where Lucifer faltered, Lilith thrived. She empowered and inspired their new subjects with her golden, sirenesque voice. And as more and more sinners arrived in Hell, the level of power within the realm slowly but surely increased, in addition to the population. 

Worried about potential demonic uprisings, Heaven officially declared that once every year, an army of specially trained angels would be sent to cull the ever-expanding population, thereby keeping them both in check and line.)

Despite having only learned about these Exterminations yesterday, a well of internal doubt began to form within the humans watching, and now witnessing the truly unsettling image of these ironically demonic appearing swarms of angels blotting out the screen like demonic locusts wasn't painting the best picture for them in the eyes of Amity, who while comparatively unfamiliar with this human lore, was catching on sufficiently fast. 

“Ay, Dios,” she muttered, eyes glued on the sight in abject terror, all this hitting far too close to home for her. 

Anne felt a knot begin to tie up in her gut, unsure if she was going to throw up at the thought of the supposed good guys committing literal genocide!

  ‘I mean, what if there are people who got damned for some smaller crime? Would they kill them?!”

The instant that thought crossed her mind, she mentally uttered a Thai prayer for those unlucky souls, a subtle tear streaking down her cheek as she hoped someone would heed it. 

“Oh, God,” was all Mabel could get past her lips at seeing this in better detail. 

“So, basically, their solution is murder, then.” Dipper surmised unapprovingly, his tone deadpan. 

 (In light of this, Lilith’s hope was strong, with her passing her dream for a brighter future down to her daughter, a certain headstrong yet compassionate princess.) 

“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll make you proud.” 

Dipper’s jaw went slack. He blinked, his brain buffering like a dial-up modem trying to load a high-resolution image. Charlie had mentioned her mother’s name in their conversation yesterday, sure. But Lilith was a common name. He knew a Lilith, Luz’s aunt. As such, he’d dismissed the obvious in hindsight significance. 

“Oh…whoa!” He croaked, voice catching in his throat, eyes wide with disbelief. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold up! Hold on a second.” He craned his eyes over towards Charlie, holding up his hands, *THE* Lilith…is your MOM?!” His voice cracked on ‘mom’, betraying the utter shock that had stolen his breath. 

"Uhh...yeah?" she confirmed, slightly confused,  "We literally talked about her yesterday."

"Yeah, but...ababababa....." Dipper sputtered, trying and failing to articulate his words. 

"Good going, Charlie." Vaggie snarked, "I think you broke him." 

(Staring out at Pentagram City, Charlie doesn’t notice Vaggie sneaking up on her, and is subsequently startled when she hears her name. She cringes in embarrassment at having been overheard narrating aloud to herself.)

“Hon, it’s fine,” Vaggie once again reassured her girlfriend. “You shouldn’t feel embarrassed, because it’s impossible for me to say no to that, or anything you say or do for that matter.” 

Hearing this, Charlie subtly slipped a tiny plush velvet ring box out of her pocket, cupping it in her hand and looking down at it, being careful to hold it at an angle where Vaggie wouldn’t see it before putting it back in, swallowing an anxious sigh, due to having no idea how she was supposed to propose when she didn’t have the best model to pull from, considering the obvious nature of her parents’ relationship.

As the first woman, Lilith hadn’t exactly had too many options, but she’d still managed to find a love so beautiful that she’d compared all of her previous relationships to it. What if she said no? Or worse, what if she said yes, but it ended in divorce from the one woman she wanted to spend her life with more than any other? Charlie didn’t want to even consider the possibility, but she couldn’t help it. 

She’d tried asking her Uncle Asmodeus for advice, but he didn’t have too much of it to offer, considering he hadn’t really come close to anything resembling settling down before he met Uncle Fizz, and even now they aren’t married, so…yeah, that was a bust. She didn’t even know why she asked in hindsight. 

But then, she subconsciously turned her sight towards Dipper, who still seemed to be coping with the fallout of learning her mother’s identity, and suddenly heard a small ding in the back of her head. 

‘Dipper’s married,’ she realized, ' an idea beginning to hatch, ‘which means he’s had to propose. Ergo, I could ask him for advice on the subject.’

She turned her head back towards Vaggie, her anxiety replaced by a newfound sense of warmth and determination. She was determined to get this right! Damn it, she was going to make sure it was perfect! And her newfound human friend was going to be her secret weapon.  

(Vaggie notices the anxious look on her girlfriend’s face, and Charlie responds with a reassurance that she’s okay, just lost in thought, her mind preoccupied by thoughts of her family. Realizing she means her mom, she asks if she’s heard back from Lilith, to which Charlie sadly shakes her head. Despite not having seen her mom for seven years, she retains a sense of optimism that she’s somewhere attending to important business.)  

“Okay, I’ll admit that’s a little suspicious,” Amity thought, processing this new piece of info, “ but she still seems better than Odalia.”  

“Of course you’re not alone, kid,” Husk assured Charlie, his smooth baritone invoking a rumbling in her heart, “Because we’re with you till the end of the line.”

“Yeah!” Angel agreed, “We losers gotta stick together!”

 Everyone stared at the spider, shocked by that. Even Fat Nuggets stopped watching to look up at his owner, confused by his choice of words.

“Uh, Angel,” Vaggie glared at Angel, her anger starting to bubble, “Why the fuck did you just say that?” she asked him calmly.

“Yeah, that sounded better in my head.” Angel admitted, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, “It’s a long story.”

He paused before adding.

“Well, maybe not that long. Let’s just continue.”

(As Vaggie exits their bedroom to head downstairs due to Alastor having put together a little promotional spot for the Hotel and wanting to show off his work to his employers, Charlie takes one last look outside before heading to the lobby as a large divine appearing bell tower tolls, signaling the beginning of the countdown to the next Extermination.)

Amongst the entire group, the sight of the pristinely out-of-place building, its whites and golds gleaming with an almost icy-seeming arrogance, a blight amongst a predominantly red skyline, instilled a grim chill in their hearts, the tower almost glaring mockingly at the potential doom to be faced annually. 

****

(The scene transitions directly to said ad, while Alastor provides an sarcastic voiceover that once again puts his utter lack of faith in the Hotel on full display, going out of his way to paint in the least flattering light he can, in addition to accusing it of being a vehicle for Charlie to “work out her daddy issues” and outright depicting Husk drunk on the job. 

 The only thing he even comes close to describing as ‘good’ would be Niffty’s effectiveness at eliminating unwanted pests. After one last jab in the form of a crappy little doodle surrounded by notes expressing his opinions, the commercial comes to an end with the switching off of the TV.) 

“So, what do you think?”

(Naturally, both Vaggie and Charlie disapprove of it, though one is more willing to come right out and say so than the other.)

(When Vaggie criticizes the ad for not properly explaining the service being provided by the Hotel, and Charlie agrees, Al defends himself by pointing out that he hasn’t been active in the political scene of Hell for quite some time, and he’s better known for his work in radio, “The PROPER medium to express oneself.”) 

“I’d hate to disagree with you there, Grandpa, but the radio's not exactly as big as it was in your day, back in, I want to say, dinosaur times.” 

Mabel laughed softly at her brother’s joke, while Alastor lurched his neck towards Dipper, his narrow eyes seething with the fire of hatred. 

How dare this human disrespect his medium? First that pathetic upstart Vox, then that insolent clown Adam, and now him?! Did he know who he was?! 

No one messed with the Radio Demon and lived to tell about it! 

But he knew he couldn’t lash out in front of Charlie if his original plan were still to happen, so he pushed down the primal desire to bite a chunk of meat out of Dipper’s arm, and responded with a mirthless laugh and simply said: 

 “I’ll believe that when I see it for myself, my friend.” 

(When Al shamelessly admits he pettily sabotaged the ad due to it having been made for the ‘noisy picture box’, disguising his blantant disdain as ‘having fun with it’, Vaggie understandably blows up, reminding him that he promised to help, not hinder their efforts, as well as revealing it’s only been a week since he first showed up.) 

“Wait,” Amity asked, confused, “it’s only been a week since the previous episode?” 

“Yeah.” Charlie explained, “After Pentious attacked, the rest of the week was pretty slow, both in terms of business and interesting events.” 

“Honestly, sometimes it felt like that week went on for four years,” she added, Niffty nodding her head vigorously in agreement. 

(Angel, previously having been observing passively from the sidelines, suggestively offers his unique brand of ‘assistance’ for the commercial, which is vehemently denied. He argues that it’d work because sex usually succeeds in selling, telling his hostesses that if they aired a spot of him getting it on with ol’ Alastor, they’d be drowning in sinners willing to come from all over Pride to stay at the hotel.)

“Ya know, the offer’s still on the table, if either of ya ever change your minds.” Angel insisted, “That goes for you, too, Big Dipper.”  

“No!” the pair shouted in unison. 

(While Charlie genuinely appreciates Angel’s offer, she gently turns him down, not wanting to treat him like that.)  

‘Especially now knowing what you go through every day.’ Charlie thought as she looked over at the arachno-humanoid porn star, her eyes brimming with sympathy, which Angel silently showed appreciation for. 

(Angel argues that his body was *meant* to be treated like that, listing off his many sexual appeals and qualities.)

“Uh, Angel, you said ‘legs’ twice.” Mabel pointed out.

“Eh, what can I say, Mabes? People LOVE the legs!”  

"Hmm. They are nice legs," she looked down at them with a nod. 

(While he’s doing this, Charlie gets an unexpected phone call from Lucifer, which she steps out to answer.) 

Charlie grimaced uncomfortably. This was hard to watch, knowing what she knew now.

 Not that she could blame her dad for not wanting to have to deal with Adam, but maybe the early extermination could have been prevented if he’d just gone himself, or maybe not, considering the meeting was set up in response to Carmilla’s act of defiant love on E-Day.

  ‘Ugh, who knows?’ She decided not to think about it and focus on the show, her fierce, passionate love all the motivation she needed to get through. Once they were done for the day, she would begin her mission, her heart burning with the power of a thousand stars going supernova all at once. 

(While Charlie is doing that, Angel raises a valid question: if Alastor is as powerful as he says, why doesn’t he just make people come to the Hotel? Alastor assures him that he can, a claim which Husk backs up from the bar.) 

“You actually think I’d be cleaning bottles and listening to you fucks bitch and moan all the time if he wasn’t forcing me?” 

“I like being forced!” 

Dipper stared at Niffty, put off by such a casual confession. The tiny housekeeper simply stared back wickedly, her single eye bloodshot and her jagged teeth gritted. 

He recoiled, his face twisting in discomfort as a shiver ran up his spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake, despite the residual warmth in the air. 

(Angel takes this as an opportunity to flirt with Husk, calling him Whiskers. Husk threatens to shove the bottle in Angel’s hand down his throat if he ever calls him that again. Of course, for someone as sexually indiscriminate as Angel, this has the opposite effect, which annoys Husk to no end.) 

“Again, unchaste,” was all Dipper said. 

"And I'll say again, what you see is what you get," Angel replied

(Vaggie interrupts their banter, exasperatedly telling Angel to let Husk focus on his job, and that potential customers just can't be forced. Angel retorts that he thinks the whole thing is dumb, and yet he's here, bringing up that they’re literally in Hell.)

“That's kinda the end of da road, ain't it?”

(Vaggie reasons that just because nobody’s been redeemed before, that doesn’t mean  it’s  entirely  out  of the realm of possibility.) 

“Uh, I mean…” Mabel started, but what she was going to say got lost in transit. She felt this was a little optimistic, which she had nothing against, but that statement was a little too optimistic, even for her. 

‘You know what? Let's just see where this goes. If a child god can redeem themselves or your rival can become your sister in all but blood, then maybe it’s possible in a place like this.” 

“Hey. Whatever means I can keep crashin’ here rent-free. Crack is expensive!” 

“Wait,” Luz asked, confused, “I thought it was pretty cheap. I mean, I’ve never done that sort of thing myself, but based on something I read online once, it’s honestly not that much,” she said,  “Unless it’s somehow more expensive down here than it is up there; How much does it cost down here?” 

“Trust me, Leggero, you think it’s bad up there? Oh-ho-ho, it’s much, MUCH worse down here. Especially with what the rent can get up to!” Angel said. “I mean, I used to just be here for the free room, but a lot has changed since then. I’m not sure I can get into it too much, what with all the ‘spoiler’ talk, but frankly, I don’t think I need to.” 

Luz was about to respond to it before Amity clapped her hand over her girlfriend’s mouth, muffling any words that would have come out otherwise. 

“We’ll take your word for it,” Amity told the porn star, Luz desperately muffling against the Blight girl’s hand. 

After addressing him, she turned her attention towards Luz, who had just kissed her hand to get free. 

“Seriously, Luz.” She told her sternly,  “Promise me you’ll never get into that, okay?”

“C’mon, Sweet Potato, you know I’d never do that, especially when our love is the only drug I need.”  

(Back with Charlie, her call with her dad is wrapping up, and she’s exhilarated by whatever he’s asking of her, because as soon as they hang up, she frantically waves Vaggie to come over to her.) 

Dipper watched this much more feverish than usual behavior for Charlie play out on the screen, wondering what could get her this excited. But he realized whatever it was, it must be good, so he kept his eyes trained, watching intently to see what happened. 

(When Vaggie finally joins her, she takes a deep breath to steel herself, then explains that the leader of the Angelic Legions was supposed to meet with Lucifer, and he asked her to go in his place. Vaggie finds something suspicious about this, since they had literally just finished an Extermination. Something wasn’t right. Charlie, on the other hand, sees it as the perfect opportunity to pitch her idea to Heaven, getting lost in another song in her anxious anticipation.)

 “I can do this/Somehow I know it…”

“Let’s go!” Mabel cheered, both for the musical number that was getting underway and the opportunity that had been handed out on a silver platter, but mainly for the song. 

“Yeah,” Dipper said, smiling supportively, “you've got this.” 

"Whoo!" Luz cheered, "You go, girl!"

(Everyone watches as Charlie spins around the lobby, on cloud nine, while Vaggie tries to ground her girlfriend in reality, her skepticism remaining present as she gets twirled around, as Charlie proclaims that it's going to be a ‘happy day in Hell’.)

(Vaggie tries to warn Charlie not to sing to the angels, but it's too late. Angel tells her she’s already out the door and halfway down the street.) 

“Is she…”

“Oh, she’s dancing.” 

“Aaugh, NO!” 

While everyone else laughed lightly, while also wondering how she got down the street so fast, Amity and Dipper groaned understandingly, relating to this sort of thing pretty well. 

(Charlie makes her way through the streets of Pentagram City, her cheerful mood a marked contrast to all the sex, violence, gore, and smells.)

“Hi, mister!”

“GO FUCK YOURSELF!” 

“Uh, okay, rude, much?” Dipper muttered. 

(The chorus consists of a further demonstration of the vast differences between the Princess of Hell and her subjects.) 

“It really is the bad place,” Luz muttered morosely.  

“Well, they can’t all be bad.” Charlie reasoned, “That’s kind of why I opened this place.” 

“Yeah, but not everyone can change, because not everyone wants to. Some are just dead set in their ways, and in my opinion, that’s the first step to redemption: the desire to become better.” 

"Sure," Charlie reasoned, "but they still have free will, and an eternity to change their mind, so I don't care how long it'd take, I'd proudly wait for that to happen." 

(While Charlie continues belting out her hopes to appeal her dream to Heaven successfully, Vaggie joins her from back at the Hotel, calling out in vain that the angels’ minds aren’t so easily changed. ) 

On the word ‘strange’, Luz gasped and clutched her chest in mock pain. “Ah, my heart!” She strained before dropping the act when she saw Charlie look at her, a hint of hurt in her eyes. 

“Sorry, no offense to your subjects or anything. It’s just that…well, I’m kinda seen as strange myself. Just trying to make a joke there.”

“Oh, I think I’ve got you now. And no offense taken, by the way. You’re all good.” 

 Meanwhile, a small nag was pulling on Mabel’s subconscious, which was weird. She wasn’t usually one for mysteries or looming questions; that was more her brother’s forte, but hearing Vaggie’s lines about the angels inserted a certain intrigue that she couldn’t shake:  

"It's almost as if she knows that firsthand.” She thought, before dismissing the thought, “Eh, probably not.” 

Despite trying to brush it aside, the intuition continued to subconsciously pull at her brain, like something was off, and her mind was trying to warn her of that. 

‘I can hear all their stories/ the lost and displaced.’

‘And I know that they’re more of an… acquired taste.’

“That’s an understatement,” Anne said.

(Charlie opens the door to a crashed truck, causing the driver to fall out and onto the ground dead before hitching a ride on the back of a postal truck, to hurry the trip along, passing by such landmarks as the Entertainment District and Vee Tower, and Cannibal Town.) 

“Urgh!” Dipper gagged, fighting the urge to cough up his pancakes at the frankly disgusting sight of the pale-skinned, coal-black eyed demons chowing down on someone else’s body, and Luz wasn’t far behind; she was hunched over the edge of her seat, dry heaving while Amity had her hand on her girlfriend’s back, patting her sympathetically while she didn’t look overtly sick, due to cannibalism being a thing on the Boiling Isles, albeit not all that common.  

“Well, this is giving me flashbacks,” Anne said, thinking back to that night at the inn all those years ago. "Polly, wherever you are, thank you so much."

‘Cause I know I can spare them from Heaven’s genocide!’ 

(The song reaches its peak, combining lyrics from both Charlie and her people, demonstrating what she’s fighting for, all on a golden musical staff.) 

 Anne’s mouth curved into a grin, once again being blown away by the vocal power being presented right now. 

“Your voice is angelic,” she said, “and I hope you don’t mind me repeating that, because it’s true.” 

Charlie’s shoulders shrugged, her fangs glinting in a half-smile. 

“I don’t know about that…” she said, her eyes flicking to the floor, the words tumbling out in a blush of nerves and pride. 

“Come on,” Anne pressed, a spark of mischief in her tone. “Your dad was an angel!” She winced at her wording, then shrugged, “Well, down here, maybe that’s not the best comparison. How about- would you settle for being compared to a Broadway actress?”

Charlie’s eyes brightened, bursting into a full grin.  

“Of course!” She replied, “I love musicals, so I’ll take that.”   

“To change their minds-

And touch my parts!”

Watching their friend get flashed like that caused the humans in the group to immediately avert their eyes, squeezing them shut in a desperate attempt to keep that sight from becoming ingrained in their memories, while letting out various exclamations of disgust and discomfort. 

“Aaugh!” 

“Oh, god!”

“Why?!” 

Angel, meanwhile, looked at the slug demon thoughtfully, racking his brain for any sign of recognition of the morbidly obese mollusk. 

“Y’know, I think I've slept with that guy before…” he shuddered. “That was not a pleasant experience.” 

“Y’know, I don't know why, but he seems familiar to me, too.” Husk agreed. 

(Charlie politely declines the offer, before skipping up the stairs of the Embassy as the song reaches a crescendo, a montage of all the stops she made flashing by as it does.) 

‘I can already tell/today is gonna be a FUCKING happy day in Hell!’ 

When the song ended, Charlie was once again met with uproarious cheers and applause, the group singing their praises, causing her to blush profusely.

But after all that, Luz had one thing to say:

“Y’know, if he did that to me, I'd punch him. I'm not even kidding.”

“Why?” Charlie asked obliviously. 

“I mean, who wouldn’t?” 

Charlie simply shrugged and looked away.

Vaggie, on the other hand, was seeing red at the sight of her girlfriend getting indirectly sexually assaulted, already thinking about what she’d do to that guy if she ever saw him in person. 

She was lost, stewing about in her anger, until she heard Luz speak up:  

“Wait,” she said to her, an uncharacteristic anger also starting to brew, “you’re saying that that sort of thing happens to your girlfriend all the time?!” 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“You didn’t need to. I’m good enough at reading facial cues that I could tell.” 

“Well, not that specifically, but…gah! Augh! Look, trust me, you have no idea how much it hurts that it sometimes feels like we’re the only ones in all of Hell who respect her; how she just takes all of that bullshit in stride. Sometimes I just wish she’d be just a little more assertive,” she sighed dejectedly, before she felt Charlie’s hands on her shoulders, attempting to massage the tension out of them. 

“Hey, Vaggie, calm down, it’s fine.” 

“B-but he-“ 

“Vaggie, please calm down. I don’t want you having another panic attack.” 

“I AM CALM!!” 

Charlie proceeded to hug Vaggie close, shushing her as she stroked her hair, whispering sweet nothings to her. 

“There, there…” 

****

(Charlie opens the door to find the Embassy suspiciously empty. The princess walks up to the receptionist’s desk, which is unattended, and rings the service bell. A floating golden scroll descends from the ceiling along with a quill. She signs her name on the parchment while commenting on how totally not creepy all of this is. As soon as she finishes, a pair of doors slide open. Charlie walks into the room, darkness meeting her on the other side.)

‘Uh, hello? Anyone…here?’

(The lights immediately flick on to reveal that a pair of angels are already in there, just sitting in the dark like a couple of creeps.)

“Whoa!” Amity jumped a little when the light came on, the Abomination witch clutching her heart, and breathing slowly to recover from the shock. 

“Ha! Wow, Amity,” Luz laughed at her girlfriend’s expense, “That-that genuinely got you. I honestly haven’t seen you jump like that since we watched Fallout Nightmare 17!”

“LUZ! You told me you wouldn’t mention that again!” Amity hissed as her face turned beet-red. 

(After falling to the floor in surprise, Charlie picks herself up and introduces herself to the male angel, who holds out his hand for her to shake. When she reaches out to do so, it phases through, revealing him to be a hologram. He laughs at his own juvenile prank, turning to his subordinate and asking if she saw it. She nods affirmatively.) 

“Okay,” Anne said, “I’m gonna be real, we’ve only known this guy for, what, 30 seconds, and I already hate him!”

"Yeah...he's really bad," Mabel drawled out uncomfortably.

(When pressed about this, the head Exorcist bursts out laughing at the mere idea of physically attending a meeting in Hell.) 

“I love the vibe, totally. Love your tunes, pretty fuckin’ hardcore, don’t get me wrong. But it’s such a bummer, man! Everything down there is just so ‘blah’, ya know?” 

“I mean, it is still Hell. While I can’t say I blame him too much, that’s still pretty irresponsible, you know?” 

(Despite the not-too-optimal start to the meeting, Charlie attempts to push past it and begin her pitch, only to be cut off by the head angel, who assures her they have plenty of time. He offers her some of the ribs he had been eating before she entered, which she accepts, only for her hand to phase through the plate, too, which he also laughs at.) 

“Wow.” Amity said bluntly, “So immature.” 

“Tell me about it.” 

“Huh? You say something?”

“Uh, nope! Nothing! I didn’t say anything, you’re hearing things! I’m fine! Uh, who’s Vaggie?” 

****

(Back at the Hazbin Hotel, Vaggie has assembled the crew to help film a new commercial that more accurately represents Charlie’s vision and what they’re trying to do.) 

“Huh.” Anne hummed in interest. This was something she could relate to, having helped her parents with commercials for Thai Go on more than a few occasions, especially after Frogvasion caused a spike in attendance levels for them. 

 While they wouldn’t be winning any awards anytime soon, her parents poured their hearts into those ads, and they’d managed something that Alastor’s ad hadn’t: a spark of genuine connection with customers. 

“Hopefully, the new one will be better.”

(So, to get the shoot off the ground, she asks Alastor for a camera. He snaps his fingers, and one materializes in her hand. An analog camera.) 

“You’re a few decades behind there, my dude.” Anne pointed out, laughing slightly at the spiteful gesture, sweating while doing so. 

“I know.” Alastor replied darkly, “Don’t remind me.” 

(Vaggie clarifies that she meant a video camera, and one more finger snap later, the request is fulfilled, albeit in the form of one that’s not in the best condition.) 

“That’s…a little better, I guess.” Anne conceded. 

(They start by shooting a scene between Husk and Angel, but between Angel’s inappropriate line delivery and Husk reading his own lines directly from the script, the endeavor is not going too well, either.)

Anne watched the whole thing with a face that made her look like she was in pain, incredulous at how bad this shoot was going, to the point it was insulting. 

“Wow. Just WOW! Did you guys seriously not do any rehearsing before you started filming? 

And have you ever heard of cue cards?”

“Well, excuse me!” Husk responded irritably, “I’m sorry that my performance isn’t good enough for the princess!”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Not you, Charlie.”

Understanding the stressful nature of filmmaking, Mabel couldn’t help but add her two cents to the conversation: 

“Well, not every take is going to be absolutely perfect right away. I mean, I should know.”

Angel raised both pairs of arms, the action as sharp as an Exorcist’s blade. 

“Well, in our defense, we didn’t have the time to do 30 takes for every single scene.” Angel said calmly, before scowling, “And you can blame Vaggie for that!” 

“What? Why is it my fault?!” Vaggie yelled hotly. 

“Don’t ask me! I’m not the one who wanted to surprise my girlfriend with a fucking TV commercial!!!”

“Guys, please!” Charlie begged, nails digging into her side of the couch’s armrest and her horns starting to erupt from her forehead, “Please don’t fight!”

The plea silenced the room immediately, except for a low staticky hum being emitted from Alastor, who seemed to find the squabble, as brief as it was, amusing. 

****

(Going back to the Embassy, the Exorcist leader is telling Charlie about this one time where his band’s drummer was getting hit on by one of the Virtues, indignant that she’d rather get it on with the drummer than him! Him! Adam!) 

“I'm the Original Dick! All dicks descend from me! You think you want drummer dick?! No. Way! I’m the Dick-fucking master!” 

“Stop! Saying! Dick!” Dipper groaned in both frustration and discomfort.  

At the same time as the on-screen Charlie, though, a realization pinged in the back of the humans' minds like a sonar, having processed the angel’s name. 

“Wait,” Anne said in disbelief, “Did he say ‘Adam?’’ 

“He did,” Charlie hesitantly confirmed.  

“But then that means…” 

Her eyes widened and her face blanched. 

“Oh, Frog.” 

“Well, that explains the ribs, at least.” 

While her friends were reeling from this revelation, Amity was still lost. “Seriously, guys, I still don’t get it. What’s the significance?”

Luz immediately quelled her confusion, whispering into her ear, and her eyes widened in realization. “Ohh…Titan.”

“You know, I’m starting to see why your mom left him, Charlie.” Luz offered her condolences.

Charlie just nodded, locked in a thousand-yard stare. Mabel, however, was not content to wallow in quiet understanding. She threw her hands up in the air. 

“So you’re telling me that we’re descended from that ?! That preening, self-centered…jerk?” She shuddered, her stomach roiling at the thought of that volatile, egotistical creature being the genesis of humankind. “How did that get past quality control?” 

Dipper’s face turned green with nausea. “Seriously, though. He’s responsible for the human race?! I feel like I need a shower. A lot of showers!”

In that moment, a silent, unspoken pact formed between the four humans in the audience to take this to the grave, an agreement sealed with a shared disgusted thought: 

“This stays between us.”

(Pushing past her shock, Charlie addresses Adam professionally, buttering him up to try to get her pitch underway. It seems to be working, but then this happens:) 

“It’s a solution to our biggest problem!” 

“Ah, herpes. Yeah, that’s a bitch.” 

This warranted a few laughs from those who didn’t know him. 

“I mean, he's not wrong,” Dipper remarked.

“Yeah, but he's also off track here,” Anne pointed out. 

Meanwhile, Luz deflated slightly upon hearing that, but remained hopeful:

“Okay. A small setback. Sure, he’s a little dense, but not a huge deal. You can still get this on track.” 

“Uhh….” 

“No! Our other biggest problem!” 

“Oh. Uh, ugly people? Math! Global warming? No, wait. That’s Earth’s problem.” 

“Welp, this might be a little harder for you than we thought…”

“You have no idea.” 

***

(Meanwhile, back at the Hotel, Niffty is pulled away from trying to stab a bug by Vaggie, who tells her her line, and the tiny housekeeper seems to understand. 

As soon as the camera is on her, though, Niffty is reduced to staring blankly out at the camera.

Understandably weirded out, Vaggie stops filming, upon which Nifty immediately bounces back to her usual cheerful self.)

Anne turned her neck towards where Alastor was sitting, who had Niffty in his lap purring like a cat, before zoning out like she was in the episode, breaking out of the trance at exactly the same time as her onscreen counterpart, oblivious to having entered it at all. 

(They try again, but Niffty freezes up again.)

“Uh, is she going to be okay?” Mabel asked, her concern as blatant as all get-out. 

“It’s fine. She just does that sometimes.” Husk stated matter-of-factly. 

“It’s true. I can vouch for her.” Anne said, remembering the episode from the previous night. 

(Angel smugly gives a sarcastic congratulation to Vaggie, while purposefully getting her name wrong. She stops filming Niffty again. Not wanting to go through that again, she reasons they can fix it in post.) 

“Do you even know what that means?” 

“I’LL FIGURE IT OUT!” 

“Ya know, I was just saying, given my line of work. ” Angel explained

"I guess that's fair," Mabel shrugged

***

(Unfortunately, she does NOT figure it out, as all the footage they had recorded has come out as a staticky mess. Alastor comes over, mocking her for her trouble. In response, Vaggie starts recording the Radio Demon, which fries the camera, because as he so eloquently puts it…)

“THIS FACE Ẃ̸̧̜̿Ä̴͓̑̈͜S̷̫͝ ̷̤̋̚M̶̻̫̹͊̀̅Ă̴͍͓̩̾D̴̛͖̲̑̄E̶͉͍͔͂ ̸̮͚̹̀̒͗F̴̛͚̘͛̍O̴̳̝̐̈́̕R̸̪̻̉̑͌͜ ̴͓̙̏͐͠Ŗ̵̻̺̇̊A̸̡̾D̷̩̬̫̍͛I̴͓̔̈͝Ǒ̴̧̥͋͝!”

“Will you…Please! Stop! Doing that?!” Anne yelled. 

“Uh…no. I don’t think I will.” Alastor smirked at her.

Dipper leaned back, a knowing grin plastered subtly on his face.  A quiet, satisfied chuckle escaped his lips at what Alastor had unwittingly called himself. 

(Having had enough of his attitude, Vaggie coerces Alastor into a deal by pointing out that since he’s there for the entertainment, it wouldn’t be much fun for him if the Hotel didn’t have any patients to watch ‘fail’ at redemption.)

“Please don’t make a deal with him.” Dipper groaned desperately 

“Oh, come now, Pines, lighten up.” Alastor responded, laughing lightly, “As my past self just said, it wasn’t for her soul.”

“Don’t talk to me,” he seethed through gritted teeth.

(Vaggie is naturally wary of the offer, but Alastor clarifies that she’ll still own her soul. He then lays down the perimeters: he helps her with the commercial, and in return, she never asks him to deal in TV or TV-related technology ever again.) 

“And yet, here you are!” Mxy laughed uproariously, which irritated Alastor to no end. 

“Don’t you dare mock me, imp! Or you’ll find out that what I told you when we first met was not just an empty threat.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t think of it…” 

‘Good to know,’ Dipper thought cheekily, ‘he can dish it out, but he can’t take it!’ 

“But still, speaking from experience, demonic deals can go awry, and they usually do.” 

“True that,” Mabel interjected. 

Or…Charlie can come back to absolutely nothing…

Your choice.

Vaggie gulped, glancing anxiously at Charlie out of the corner of her good eye. Her fingers grasped her armrest, her knuckles bone-white. Seeing this, she knew she needed something solid to hold onto as her heart hammered against her ribcage. 

She was worried about what Charlie would think of her having done what she did, even though it was for her. 

 She hadn’t told her girlfriend everything that day- only that Alastor had played a large part in getting the ad on the air, but she didn’t tell her the chilling bargain that lurked behind it. 

 Part of that had included Al threatening to tear the muscles from the tendons of the executives of the hellborn-run station in Imp City that they had gone to (because of the stranglehold that VoxTek held on the media scene in Pentagram) and then actually following through with it when they didn’t comply with their requests. 

She just hoped she’d understand. 

(With no other options, Vaggie takes the deal, and with it comes improved equipment, costumes, and a newfound resolve to make the best damn commercial Hell has ever seen.)

****

 (Once again, we rejoin Charlie at the Embassy, where Adam is going off on a sexist tangent about his opinions on dating etiquette, before finally managing to get a word in edgewise about the overpopulation crisis.)

“Finally!” Mabel exclaimed, “Now we’re getting somewhere!” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Angel said, gesturing towards the screen:

(Adam laughs, hearing this, before claiming that it isn’t a problem, turning towards his companion to have her back him up.) 

“Lute, how many demons did you kill this year?” 

“Got a good 275 this year, sir.” 

“275? Whoa! Badass. Awesome job, Danger Tits! Pound it.” 

Luz tilted her head, forcing an awkward, lilted half smile as she spoke. 

“Well, putting aside the obvious issues, does anyone else think that’s at least a little bit impressive?” 

Immediately after saying that, her shoulders dropped, and she buried her face into her hands, the motion quick and automatic. 

“Sorry.” She whispered, “That sounded less bad in my head.” 

Hearing that large of a number sparked a question from Dipper:  

"Hey," he asked, to no one in particular, "I have a question: how many of these Exorcists are there?" 

Charlie, having experienced 200 years' worth of Exterminations, was naturally the one who responded first:

"Well, no one's ever been able to get a concrete number," she told him, "but if I had to estimate, somewhere in the early thousands." 

Upon receiving their answer, it began to sink in just what was at stake with this meeting and the princess's mission. 

(Charlie points out that demons they may be, they’re still her people. Frankly, this doesn’t appeal to whatever humanity that Adam might have, with Lute reaffirming the belief that Sinners are right to burn, as well as believing that while everyone else may make mistakes, angels do not.)

Luz’s brow quirked up, a silent dare woven in as she raised it. She found Lute’s pious attitude- which somehow managed to be both casual and smug- familiarly reprehensible. It caused a familiar stain to resurface once again; one she always hoped would fade, yet came back whenever he showed his stubborn, irritating face, constantly circling like a fly. 

The thought of that monster caused her to clench her fists, knowing full well what she’d say from years of dealing with Jacob, despite wishing otherwise.

“I *know* that.”

Vaggie’s gaze narrowed, fixing on the screen, the edge of her lips pinching as she tightened her grip on her armrest until it began to creak from the pressure, her bow betraying her rising anger as it curved and sharpened. 

“Yeah, I’ve never made a mistake in my fuckin’ life!” 

“Are you sure you’re sure about that?” Luz snarked at the screen, “Because I can think of three examples, just off the top of my head. And two of them involve you!” 

“I can name another 72!” Dipper added proudly while ignoring his friends' confused expressions. 

(Lute coldly reminds Charlie that the only reason she’s still alive is due to a pact between Lucifer and Heaven that spares Hellborn from the Exterminations, rubbing in her powerlessness.) 

“Uh…excuse me, lady? What the heck?!” Anne shouted, her hands clenching and her heart racing with anger. “What gives you that right to just…GAH!!!” Anne quickly calmed down, but her desire to punch and/or choke something, or someone, preferably Lute, remained. 

Dipper choked at the black-clad angel's uncaring tone. He didn't care for it, or her treatment of his friend.  

(Adam reveals that they’re running out of time, which causes Charlie to try and rush through her pitch, before:)

It’ll be a happy day in-.

Let me stop you right there/save us all precious time…

“Oh, great, the jackass is going to sing…” Anne said. 

Charlie felt her pupils shrink in dread. It took her almost a month to get the song out of her head, and she was not looking forward to having to listen to it again. 

“Ugh, not this again…” she groaned. 

(He mocks her plan, restating that the Sinners had their chance at getting into Heaven, and now have to reap what they sow, how they’re stuck burning for their lives until they’re killed again.) 

Just try to chillax, babe. You’re wasting your breath/Did I hear you imply that they DON’T deserve death?!

Suddenly, Dipper began bobbing his head to the song before catching himself. 

‘Argh, why is it such a bop?!’ 

(Charlie flinches as Adam fills the room with holy light, before walking down a staircase made of clouds, declaring that ‘for those of us with divine ordainment, extermination is entertainment’.) 

 The living members of the audience were dumbfounded by Adam’s callous, indecent, and obviously sociopathic behavior, a collective tarlike blob of outrage and disgust sticking to their consciousness like a tumor. 

Dipper's fingers tightened around his pen, the barrel cracking in his grip. Mabel tilted towards him, while outwardly strong, her eyes gave away that on the inside, she hoped desperately for the best. She whispered without moving her lips, a vow she wouldn’t utter aloud but would keep anyway.

 Anne pressed her hands together, the skin drawn as tight as a prayer bead, quietly praying for those down here who needed it, as slow and steady as a beating drum. 

And Luz clutched her stomach, her fingers drumming anxiously against her torso as her girlfriend held her in a protective embrace. 

(Golden facsimiles of Exorcists are summoned as backup as the song enters the bridge, to Charlie’s confusion)

“Whoa!” Dipper yelped, jerking back with wide eyes. 

Hell is forever, whether you like it or not/had their chance to behave better, now they boil in the pot… 

Throughout the aisle of seats, a damp, silent enmity was present, both between those who already knew what an abhorrent piece of shit Adam was and those who were just learning for the first time. 

Amity unconsciously held her finger out at her side, while Husk rolled a 20-sided die between his knuckles, Angel clenching his lower left hand. They barely knew the guy themselves, but they still hated him for what he did to Charlie and Pentious.  

Nifty, on the other hand, just stared creepily, as if she was harboring some kind of deep-seated violent desire against Adam. 

Fuckin’ Hell is forever, and it’s meant to suck a lot/so give up your dumb endeavor, ‘cause you don’t have a shot! 

“Screw you, Adam!” Luz yelled at the screen, protectiveness for her fellow outcast flaring, “I don’t care if we’re technically related to you! You can somehow rot for all I care, I don’t care how!” 

(Despite his status as a hologram, Adam manages to physically grab Charlie’s wrist to tell her the reason for the meeting:) 

Can’t wait a whole year to slaughter those little cunts/ I know it’s just been a week, but WE’LL BE BACK IN SIX MONTHS!!!

“WHAT?!” 

(She’s thrown out of the boardroom, failing to get back inside as Adam finishes the song with an admittedly sick guitar shred. Charlie crumples to her knees, slamming her fist on the door before the scene smashes to black.)

—————————————————————

“So, can he just do that? Because he finds it FUN?! Those are his descendants!” Luz shouted, followed by a low, easily missable disdainful doglike growl. 

“And there's another person I can add to the list of people I loathe.” Amity seethed, incensed at how this guy got hard off on kinslaying, and how that could theoretically include her Luz. She was already thinking about how many different ways she’d rough him up. Like forcing some Abomination goo down his throat and letting him choke on it, or expanding it out from inside him and making him explode. 

Other than that outburst and the sound of agitated or angered breathing, the audience was silent. 

This silence was broken by the sound of someone humming along lightly to the song that they had just been subjected to:

“Na na na NA NA, na na na na na, na na.”

Everyone looked toward the sound to find the source bobbing her head from side to side innocently as she did so. 

“Niffty!!” Vaggie yelled. 

The one-eyed housekeeper looked up to see her employer glaring disapprovingly over at her. 

“Sorry.” She squeaked, hanging her head in shame.

“C’mon, lay offa her,” Angel said, cracking a smile, “I mean, you gotta admit, it was kinda 

catchy.” 

——————————————————————

(Charlie returns to the Hotel, her mood dampened severely. Vaggie immediately approaches her, wanting to hear how it went. Her girlfriend nervously attempts to sugarcoat it before Vaggie drags her over to the couch to watch the premiere of the new and improved commercial.) 

While Luz and Mabel were especially excited to see how it turned out, the other three couldn't deny the jolt of anticipation they were feeling. Because of this, they were oblivious to the expressions of dread painted across the faces of the rest of the group. 

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hot-

(And the feed is immediately upended by an emergency 666 News show, revealing the deadline for the upcoming second Extermination, before jumping to show the clock tower’s countdown being slashed in half, inducing citywide panic, and outrage among the Hazbins at both their work being for nothing, and shocked confusion at the news.)

“Ah, come on!” Anne yelled out, frustratedly, having been the most enthusiastic to see the new commercial. 

“Wait… what?” Angel wonders, “Why?!” 

(Elsewhere, a small golden drone hovers in a ruined section of the city until it finds what it’s looking for: the mangled corpse of a decapitated Exorcist. 

Back in Heaven, Lute informs Adam of this unprecedented achievement, stating her wish just to go down and kill everyone immediately. Adam, meanwhile, has other plans.)

“We can’t risk them catching on. But don’t worry. When we come back, there won’t be a demon left alive to pull a stunt like this AGAIN!” 

(The last thing seen before the credits roll is his menacing slasher-esque grin glowing in the darkness.)  

———————————————————————

The red-shaded wallpaper faded back in from the darkness. After the absolute drama bomb of those ending scenes, the humans stared, shaken by what they had just watched. The only sound in the audience came from Ghost, who let out an uncharacteristic hiss towards where Adam’s animated visage had been a brief moment ago. 

“Whoa! Whoa, whoa! Easy, girl!” Amity stammered, shocked at her palisman’s aggressive behavior. “It’s okay, he’s not real.” She briefly paused, “Well, I mean, he is real, but he’s not here right now.” She held Ghost close, the cat palisman quickly calming down at the nuzzling and emitting a low, rumbling purr.   

 “Shh. There, there. It’s okay, Ghost. We’re okay.” 

Meanwhile, Dipper was buried in his Journal,  scribbling as fast as his fingers could move. His eyes flicked up and down from one page to the next, getting down everything he’d learned from what they’d all just watched: how the universe kicked into existence, Genesis, the ruling couple of Hell, as limited as that was. His pencil looped around his fingers as he underlined an important note on the new page he’d set up for the angels- 

‘They are jerks. ’ 

A whiff of something familiar crept into the room, a chill that wasn’t from the air, more from the realization that death could even touch them!

The image of the dead angel from the ending hung in his thoughts, heavier than he expected, and the ache of curiosity sharpened a needlepoint of questions. The mystery tugged at him, a quiet pull at the edge of his ribs. What was their weakness? Who had taken her life? He pictured a bare fact, then watched it bloom into theories, each one more fragile than the last, each one he was determined to test. He folded the page, then started a fresh line, letting possibilities spill across the margins as if the answers were hiding in the ink, waiting for him to chase them down.

While these events were happening, Mabel was talking to Vaggie and Charlie about the commercial. 

“I’m sorry that all your hard work just went to waste like that.”

“So am I,” the one-eyed woman groused, “it was impossible to find a channel willing to air it. The one that ended up taking it on that much short notice is usually always filled. The only other thing that runs on it is this one ad for some shitty startup company of imp hitmen. Literally, it’s been the only thing on that channel for the past seven months! We were lucky to even get a slot!” 

 “Vaggie, calm down! Charlie begged, “It’s fine. You did all of that for me, and even if I didn’t get to see it, everything ended up working out, didn’t it? And besides, it’s the thought that counts, and after the day I’d had, I enjoyed coming home to hear that.”

“I guess,” Vaggie conceded, calming down. As long as her girlfriend was happy with it, that's what mattered to her. 

They then heard Mxy call out: “Lunchtime, everybody! Do with it as you please.” before he vanished, leaving them alone with no meal plan ready.

Well, at least until an idea popped into Charlie’s head. She zipped out into the hall and fished out her phone, dialing up the closest pizza shop that didn’t use human meat. 

****

Now alone, Vaggie looked down, thinking about her beloved Charlie, the thoughts of her dispelling any memories of her past whenever they tried to creep in and sour her mood. She’d noticed her girlfriend’s recent string of happiness, seeming to be more upbeat than usual, which was saying a lot. She got the feeling that Charlie was hiding some kind of surprise from her; she wasn’t this happy for no reason. She thought she was being sneaky. ‘But I’m onto you, mi rayo de sol del luz.’ 

A blush tinged her face as she tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, a sly smirk playing on her lips, her heart fluttering at the thought of whatever Charlie had planned. 

**** 

29 and three-quarters minutes later, a knock was heard at the door, signifying that the pizzas had arrived. 

After paying the delivery hound for the food, in addition to keeping quiet, having caught a glimpse of the human guests, the group gathered in the dining room to eat. The topping choices included the usual suspects: pepperoni, mushrooms, sausage; you know, the works. Charlie remembered to make sure the cheese was non-dairy for Luz, and also had ordered a pizza loaded with pineapple for both herself and Alastor. 

Having noticed this, Anne let out a slightly unhinged-sounding chuckle before bouncing back just as quickly and grabbing a slice of BBQ ‘chicken’ pizza. 

As she was lost in the bliss that comes with indulging in a good slice of pizza, she remained oblivious to the stare of intrigue Charlie directed her way, having sworn she’d seen the smallest flicker of blue in her eyes. 

‘What was that?’ she mused to herself, before shrugging it off. 

‘Eh, it's probably just a human thing.’ 

–——————————————–––

Neutral zone of Dimension #5150

The Theraprism

Out in the black, seemingly endless expanse of the outer reaches of the multiverse, lies the karmic reform facility known as the Theraprism. 

For millennia, the most malevolent monsters, villains, and agents of darkness have been drawn here, seeking redemption and the opportunity to be reincarnated after a lifetime consumed by sin. 

Of course, some patients are more open to the rehabilitation process than others, but that’s neither here nor there. 

Currently, the Prism is in its night cycle, and the patients are sleeping, or at least trying to. Some were wide awake, stewing about, festering in their anger and resentment, stubbornly insisting they were in the right. 

The internal architecture of the facility is, in a word, ‘bizarre’; some hallways appear to go on forever, while other areas resemble an M.C. Escher painting.

Frankly, it can get confusing if you don’t know your way around. 

In the Right Hemisphere of the Frontal Lobe, at the front of the Brain, there is a cell cut off from the rest of the facility, mainly due to it being accessible only by its small, bowling ball-sized inhabitant. 

Inside the cell, designated RB-42, and not so much ‘sleeping’ as being ‘shut off’, rested a black, helmet-like entity with a pair of antennae not unlike the gills of an axolotl, and three pairs of spider-like legs. It was resting in a position similar to that of a common housecat.

Suddenly, an all-too-familiar sensation tingled throughout its mechanical figure, and its ten eyes flickered open and lit up all at once, glowing in the dark void of the room. 

Its legs whirred to life, jumping down from the bed and making its way to the door, where it unlocked it from the inside and crawled out, making its way to the ceiling to avoid the security droids. Those things could be merciless if they caught you out of your cell after lights out.  

The biotechnological being carefully crept through the ever-changing, ever-confusing halls of the Theraprism until it found its destination: the Maximum Security Wellness Center.

Sure, the end stretch of the journey was a small challenge because of the zero gravity wells littered throughout the hallway, in addition to said hallway constantly rotating on an axis and being near infinite, all in the service of keeping the prisoner at the end of the hall from escaping, not that he’d had much luck in that regard to begin with. 

Finally, it reached its destination, rapping on the timetanium-steel alloy door a rhythmic five times. 

“It is back. Our rightful power,” The Core thought as the giant metal doors slowly slid open, a staticky crack glinting in the inky blackness, a single catlike eye opening, silently ushering its late-hour guest to come inside, a single thought shared between them: 

“ Soon…we will have our revenge.”