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The last thing Don Ruby and MacKenzie Friday remembered from the Material Plane was being in a passionate embrace in Don’s bed when his wife Shayla came home, took one look at the adulterers, and exploded both of their heads with a well-aimed Shatter spell, their brains decorating the large corn cob that hung over their bed.
Their next memory was of fire and lava, brimstone and ash as they plummeted down a large hole towards The Bottomless Pit, where they immediately were thrust into a recording studio. The studio was stuffy and humid, and they were constantly tormented by the screeches of feedback and the tuning of instruments. All around them barbed or scaly devils forced them to coil never-ending spools of cables as their fingers blistered, perform endless mic checks until their throats bled, read the fine print of contract after contract, or string guitars where the cords would always snap and cut their fingers. The two were sent together to the contract room, where they began to comb through the legalese to determine if they should sign or not.
Bewildered by her surroundings, MacKenzie flagged down a scaly devil.
“Excuse me,” she said, her voice small and timid. “But where are we? It… it feels like hell, but this is nothing like what they said.”
“Like who said?” rasped the devil, strumming a sour chord on his electric guitar, which sent a wave of psychic damage through the room.
“Th- The p-p-priests,” she stammered, cowering before the devil. “Please, don’t do that again!”
“What, this?” he said with a cackle, striking another bad chord. All the sinners in the room screamed in pain, the souls of the damned dropping to their knees and holding their heads.
“No, you’re in Hell alright,” smirked the devil. “The priests on the material plane, they don’t know what’s going on with their religion any more! ‘Oh, oh, if you sin and don’t repent you’ll go to Hell where you’ll be whipped and stabbed for eternity!’ Pah, that’s the old Hell! With the new Mistress in charge, things have been shaken up and we’ve got new ways of punishing you sinners!”
Don quaked where he stood. “Wh-Who in the Nine Hells would be so devious to think up such a cruel punishment as deciphering contracts for all eternity? Truly, I’d rather be whipped!”
The devil cackled again. “Why, the Archdevil of Rebellion, of course! A teenage girl with a band!”
“Nooooooooo!”