Chapter Text
The Hazbin Hotel
“Merry Christmas everyone!” shouted Charlie Morningstar, dressed up in her Santa suit and fake beard.
“Can you keep it down, I’m kind of hung over,” said the Bartender, Husk. “I’ve turned down the lights for a reason and it’s not just atmosphere.”
Naturally, that meant that Nifty had to shriek as loud as she could. “GOOD NEWS EVERYONE!” The diminutive one eyed demon shouted, dressed up in an Elf costume that was stained with blood. “Vivziepop is in hell!”
“Who?” Vaggie asked from one of the couches, looking up from her newspaper.
“The famous internet animator who failed to get a show on Amazon!” Nifty screamed again, jumping upon the bar counter and kicking over the glass that Husk was polishing. “Right now she’s baking pies without an oven!”
“Well, maybe we can give her a spot at the hotel!” Charlie suggested optimistically.
“Let me check the obituaries,” Vaggie said as she flipped to the back of the newspaper. “According to this she was shot down by the London Police while trying to light Scottish babies on fire.”
“I may be overstepping my bounds here, I don’t think you can redeem Youtubers,” said Husk. “You ever wonder why so many big Youtubers are child predators? It’s because Youtubers are the only sinners who are completely redeemable.”
“Come on, Husk, not every Youtuber is as bad as Mr. Beast,” Charlie playfully wagged her finger. “Just because he’s stuck in the deepest circle of hell where my Father Chews on Pontius Pilate and Judas Iscariot in the frozen lake, doesn’t mean that there’s not an angel hidden in every Youtuber.”
“Yes Charlie, that’s right, definitely thumbs up for the princess of Hell and her quest to redeem all the sinners,” said Markiplier. Who was much the same as we remember, except for the fact that he was a severed head inside of a jar of pig urine.
“Aww, thanks, Mark, now Husk, why aren’t you wearing your Reindeer costume?” Charlie put her hands on her bony hips.
“One I have a hangover, and two I don’t fucking celebrate Christmas.” grunted the cat demon bartender.
“No, but I’m the boss so you have to do what I say.” Charlie stood to attention in her old tattered Santa suit. “Speaking of which, has anyone seen Angeldust? He said he’d show up with more Christmas costumes, non-fetish Christmas costumes. He’s not answering my calls or my emails.”
“He probably just went on a little bit of sex tourism, he does that all the time,” said the severed head of Markiplier as Nifty put a Frosty the Snowman hat with mistletoe upon the jar holding his decapitated head.
“I’m sure he’ll turn up,” said Vaggie. “And if all else fails we can just rent costumes from the Spirit Halloween.”
“Vaggie!” Charlie whined, “We need Christmas costumes!”
The girlfriend of Charlie shrugged, “Come on, babe, Hell is the only place where Spirit Halloween is open all year round and the Christmas Store is closed in December.”
“Oh okay, we’ll check it out,” Charlie then turned to Husk, “You let me know
Meanwhile in Springwood, Illinois, Elm Street
Angeldust struggled for a moment against the chains that held him down in the old boiler room. “So I know you plan to rape, torture, kill and eat me in no particular order but how do you know me?”
Freddy Kruger emerged from the shadows, Christmas lights wrapped around his hat and for once his shitty Christmas sweater being thematically appropriate. “I sent you pictures of my big, throbbing cock and you never responded. So now I’m going to make you my child.” The serial killer clenched his knife glove.
“That doesn’t narrow shit down,” Angel dust raised an eyebrow. “Do you know how many dick pics I get in a day? I delete ‘em all.”
“This will refresh your memory,” Said Freddy as he unzipped his pants and let loose the wang-dang-doodle.
“Hey!” Angel dust rattled his chains. “You’re that weird who sent me all those pictures of a burnt wiener! Well no dice buddy, I ain’t putting that in my mouth. And guess what, bitch, you fucked up! I’ve got a lot of heavy connections and they’ll be here to kick your fucking ass!”
Freddy chuckled, “Talk sweet to me, baby, it gives me wood.” Suddenly the doorbell in the abandoned factory went off. “There’s the Uber Eats guy, I’ll be right back.”
As the child murderer ran up the stairs, Angeldust looked around. He saw his stuff on a desk maddeningly out of teach. “Okay baby, just gotta use the robe bondage techniques that Batman used on you and you can get out. Just gotta make one phone call.”
Interlude
Suddenly on screen appears a cartoon version of Adam Saddler taking a piss on a giant Coca Cola Christmas advertising billboard.
“Hey didn’t hear you come in,” said the man, “Name’s Davy Stone, star of the hit cartoon Eight Crazy Nights.”
Davy then grabs a can of beer from his jacket and cracks it open. “Don’t worry folks, we got lots of surprises and shit coming up. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll maybe even cum. It’s all brought to you by the Master of the Boot and the very fine corporate sponsors who are ruining the holidays for everyone. So cheers and happy holidays!”
Davey then downs his beer as a curtain covers up the TV.
Until next time, stay tuned.