A lot going on. Been slow with writing lately. But good news is, one of my original short stories is going to be published in an anthology! It comes out in September on Amazon!

Title Song: Don't think I need to explain.

With the entertainment booked and the date set, it was time to get the word out on the Hazbin Hotel's Valentine's Day Dance. The management and a few volunteers spent the whole morning coming up with ideas for flyers. Charlie insisted on a design that involved rainbows and lots of glitter, until Tina convinced her that it wouldn't attract the hoodlums of Hell.

Then Proxy brought forth a sketch of her own. To fit the Valentine's Day theme, it was bordered with little hearts that she said would be colored pink. When Angel Dust said that wouldn't work either, Proxy swiftly erased the hearts and made them into skulls. They'd still be pink.

All that was left was the information. After some debate, they settled on this:

VALENTINE'S DAY DANCE
HAZBIN HOTEL
FRIDAY, FEB. 14TH 7PM
ADMISSION $10
DRINKS $5
FOOD & LIVE ENTERTAINMENT

"I still think we should mention our goal," Vaggie said.

"After how they reacted to your television fiasco?" Alastor said. "Ha-ha! They don't care about your silly redemption goals!"

"Al has a point," Tina said.

"He does?" Charlie and Vaggie said.

"I do?" Alastor said.

"Most sinners down here are just lookin' for a good time, not redemption," Tina said. "Besides, the point of this event is to raise awareness and money for the hotel. If we tell them this is a place for rehab, they won't come. If we bait them with cheap booze and entertainment, they'll come flocking. Then we can try talkin' 'em into staying."

So, it was decided. Proxy refined her design and Vaggie put it through the copier. Tina and several others also took a pic of the flyer and shared it on their social media.

Once five hundred copies were made, Charlie asked if anyone would like to volunteer in passing them out and putting them up around Pentagram City. Tina raised her hand and, subsequently, so did Alastor.

Naturally, when the volunteers spread out with their share of flyers, the Radio Demon followed his wife.

"You'll look for any excuse to spend time with me, won't you?" Tina grumbled.

"Oh, come now," Alastor said. "There's nothing in our deal preventing us from walking together, is there?"

She sighed. "Fine, but ya better be takin' this seriously. I ain't out to disappoint the Princess."

Tina stopped to staple a flyer to a utility pole. Alastor went to the other side, reaching to a higher spot to put up one of his.

"Why do you even care what the Princess thinks?" he asked, pressing down on the stapler. "You said so yourself long ago, sinners like us don't belong in Heaven."

"We don't." Without glancing at him, she moved onto the next pole. "But Her Highness is right that there are sinners out there who wanna change, despite it all. They just need a safe space to do it."

Alastor watched as she put up another flyer. "Not everyone is capable of changing. Oh, they might make some effort, but in the end, they'll revert back to their old routines."

At this, Tina's hand slipped and her finger was stapled. "Ow!"

Dropping the stapler and flyers, she held up her finger. "Damn it."

Alastor poofed his supplies away, bent down, and extended his hand. "May I?"

She locked eyes with him a moment, then nodded. With great care, he took her hand and examined her injury. Fortunately, the staple hadn't sunk fully in, though it dangled right below her nail.

"This will only take a moment," he said.

Alastor plucked out the staple. It didn't hurt much, though she winced out of reflex. She expected him to give her hand back right away, yet he continued to hold it.

Blood dripped from her finger. His glowing red eyes were transfixed.

Would it be untoward of him to suck from his wife's wound? She'd allowed it before. And it was only a little cut. It wasn't as if he'd be taking her whole finger.

His tongue yearned to taste her again, to know her in the most intimate way he knew how. To have a piece of her inside him.

"Al?"

The Radio Demon blinked back to his senses. "Yes?"

Tina yanked her hand out of his grasp. "Ya ain't suckin' my finger."

"Of course not." He straightened up and cleared his throat. "That would be…inappropriate."

With a snap, a small bandage was wrapped around Tina's finger.

"Thanks."

She knelt down to pick up her scattered flyers. Alastor joined her.

"I can do it myself," she said.

He huffed. "Still won't accept help when it's offered, I see. It would seem I was correct that there are some things that cannot change."

Tina scowled and stood, despite the amount of flyers still at her feet. "I know we agreed not to argue, but you're makin' it real difficult."

Alastor summoned the remaining flyers to his hands as he rose. "That feeling, my dear, is mutual."

For a long time, they were quiet as they continued their work. Tina's stapling became much more aggressive as she pounded them into whatever pole she came across. Alastor kept his distance as he covered the alley walls, all while stealing guilty glances at his wife.

In all honesty, he almost wished they would forget the deal and break into an argument. He preferred that to the awkward silence. At least then they'd be talking.

As the couple reached the center of town, they passed by some of the other hotel volunteers. Proxy was taping a flyer to a dumpster. Carrie Canary was chasing after a flyer that had blown away.

Then there were the Dicto twins, standing on a corner, waving a flyer in a male demon's face.

"Do come to our Valentine's soiree, love," said Dana.

"At the Hazbin Hotel," said Dinah.

Dana batted her eyes. "We'll be performing there."

Dinah crept her fingers up the male demon's chest. "And we'd love for you to support us."

The man stuck his tongue out in a pant and took a flyer. Alastor raised an eyebrow at the scene.

"Isn't this bordering on sexual solicitation?"

Tina, who had been too busy ignoring her husband to notice anything, turned to the Dicto twins as they flirted with the next passing demon.

"Whaddya want me to do?" Tina asked Alastor. "Tell my girls to stop being attractive?"

He bent down to her level. "Our co-managers may not approve of the mantis twins' false advertising."

"Hey, it ain't false advertisin' if all they say is they're gonna be performin' at the party. As long as they get sinners to come."

"Once they realize the hotel is not a brothel, those sinners are likely to change their minds about attending the event."

"My club wasn't a brothel," Tina pointed out, "and people still managed to come."

"Ah, but your club didn't give the promise of redemption and Heaven."

"Even so, these thirsty boys will take any chance to see a bunch of pretty girls onstage. After all," she said, gesturing to herself with a smirk, "how do ya think I stayed in show business for so long?"

Alastor paused to look her over. She was dressed in a more casual fashion today, with white slacks and a ruffled lavender halter top that matched her bowler hat. Although the outfit was a bit modern for his taste, he liked that she had crafted her own unique style to fit her Songbat persona.

Not to mention it hugged her figure perfectly.

"Now, see?" Tina giggled. "Even a prude like you can't resist my female allure."

He blushed. "Touché, my dear. However, I never did quite approve of all those males ogling you through every performance."

He side-eyed a passing demon who seemed particularly interested in Tina's backside. Out of instinct, Alastor put his arm around her and pressed her close.

Tina glanced down at his hand on her waist. "Al, I know you've always felt the need to protect me—"

"Ah-ah-ah!" He raised a finger. "It wasn't a need, but an obligation! It was the reason you married me, after all!"

"That was then. But I'm a big girl now." She removed his hand and ducked under his arm. "I can take care of myself. I have been for years."

"I'm well aware." The corners of Alastor's mouth twitched as he looked ahead. "All the more reason for me to be protective over you, to make up for the years I…couldn't."

She traced her middle finger over her bandaged pointer. "That's…sweet, Al. Really. But it's not necessary."

They entered a more rundown part of town, littered with not just trash but homeless demons dressed in rags and holding up signs. One beggar, a thin, green cat demon; played a melancholy jazzy tune on a silver trumpet, its case open at his feet, bearing a few coins and bills. Alastor reached into his pocket, Tina into her purse. They simultaneously fished out a coin, shared a glance, then dropped them in the case.

"Nice to see ya still tippin' the street performers," Tina said, keeping her gaze on the sidewalk.

"Yes, well." Alastor cleared his throat. "I admire the beggars who find some way to earn their keep, and you know I'm partial to jazz."

She hugged her stack of flyers to her chest. "Ya gave me a fifty once."

He stopped and turned to her. "Did I?"

She nodded. "When I was singin' in the streets, I heard radio static, and next thing I knew there was a fifty in my hat."

Alastor scratched his head. "Why do I not recall this? Moreover, how come you've never mentioned it before?"

"I didn't see your face, and I was too lost in song to really pay attention. It wasn't until some time after our, uh, fallout, when I was wanderin' the streets and considerin' beggin' again that it reoccurred to me."

"Hmm." He rubbed his chin. "I think I'd remember a voice like yours."

She shrugged. "It was a long time ago. I'm sure ya did that for a lotta street performers."

"Not normally a fifty though. What song were you singing?"

"Can't remember. Like I said, was a long time ago." She looked around at all the homeless beggars. "Ya know, these hobos would be our most ideal customers for the hotel, seekin' shelter and food."

"I suppose they don't have anything to lose, do they?" Alastor said with a chuckle. "But how do you propose to convince them to take a shot at redemption as well?"

Tina glanced back at the trumpeter and smirked. "The way any beggar draws attention."

Alastor watched with a raised eyebrow as she raced over to the trumpeter and said something to him. She then pulled out a hundred from her purse and he nodded eagerly. Smiling, she dropped the bill into his case and pointed over at a decrepit, dried-up, red marble fountain in the center of the square. They exchanged a few more words, then the trumpeter picked up his case and headed for the fountain.

"What was all that about?" Alastor asked when Tina returned.

"You'll see," she said. "I'm gonna need to borrow your mic."

His staff appeared in his hand. "Anything of mine is yours, dear, but Mic is not the most cooperative fellow."

"You kidding?" The mic's eye opened and batted in Tina's direction. "I'd do anything to be in your lovely, warm hands again, honey!"

"Hey!" Alastor gave the mic a shake. "Mind your manners!"

"I don't need to hold it," Tina said. "Just make sure it broadcasts me on your station."

He tilted his head. "What exactly are you planning, darling?"

"Exactly what we're out here to do. Advertise."

"Mmm-hmm." He traced a finger up his staff. "And what's in it for me? I don't lend my mic out to just anyone, you know."

She placed a hand on her hip. "Lend me your mic, and I won't tell the Princess about the demon meat in your fridge."

There was a record scratch. "Now how did you know about—?"

"While you were passed out, I went through your kitchen for a snack." She narrowed her eyes. "Ya think after being married to a cannibal all this time I couldn't tell the difference between animal meat and demon meat?"

"I—"

"Look, I don't care 'bout your diet, as long as none of my employees end up in that fridge. But if the Princess knew you were still butcherin' demons, she'd have a harder time forgivin' ya. As for Vaggie…oh, ya know she'd run ya through with that spear of hers."

The mic broke out into a laugh. "She's got you there, sport!"

With a grunt, Alastor held out his staff. "Follow her, then. And do try to behave."

"Me?" the mic said as it floated out of his hand. "You're the one always staring at your little sugar's posterior!"

The Radio Demon swiped at the mic, but it whizzed over to Tina. "I'm yours, hot stuff!"

"I swear the blasted thing's talking nonsense!" Alastor insisted.

"If ya say so," Tina said. "Hold these, will ya?"

She shoved her flyers and purse into his arms and ran over to the fountain. As soon as Alastor had regained his balance, he turned to see what his wife was up to.

Tina flew up and perched herself on the top of the fountain, cleared her throat, and hummed a quick warm-up. Then she pointed to the mic hovering beside her.

"And we're live in five," the mic counted, "four, three, two…"

It crackled and lit up. Tina tapped her brooch and spoked in an amplified voice.

"Hello ya hobos, washups and burnouts! This is Tina Twinkle the Songbat comin' at y'all live from downtown Pentagram City!"

All the beggars looked her way. Not much happened in this part of town, so just about anything would catch their attention at this point.

"Are you a new soul who's recently fallen from grace?" Tina asked, gesturing to the audience. "Out on the streets cuz ya didn't make the rent or your lover kicked ya to the curb?"

"Yeah," someone called out half-heartedly.

"Thought so." Tina put her hands on her hips. "Well, unless y'all wanna end up on the other end of an angel's spear or as some shitty Overlord's new fuck toy, there's only one place in Hell that guarantees free room and board, without any strings attached! Unless ya count possible redemption, but hey, not like any y'all got anything better to do, am I right?"

The mic provided a laugh track.

"That's right, y'all! I'm talkin' 'bout the Hazbin Hotel, formerly the Happy Hotel, run by our very own Princess of Hell!"

The hobos murmured amongst each other. Some waved their hands dismissively. Some went back to sleep under their bundle of motheaten coats.

"Not convinced, huh?" Tina shrugged. "Well, I know Princess Charlotte didn't win y'all over with a song and dance, but maybe this is more your speed."

Snapping her fingers, she pointed to the trumpeter. "Hit it, cat."

The skinny cat nodded and blew his trumpet. It wasn't a tune Alastor recognized, but many of the hobos seemed to. The strange thing about the song was that there seemed to be other instruments surrounding it. Alastor could at least detect drums and a trombone.

But there was no way his microphone was making these sounds. It couldn't play any songs the Radio Demon didn't know himself.

Then Tina hopped down from the fountain and began to sing:

"Sinners! There's no need to feel down.
I said, sinners!"

With the mic following her, she grabbed the hands of a sitting beggar and lifted him to his feet. "Pick yourselves off the ground."

She went from hobo to hobo, picking them all up or dragging them towards the fountain.

"I said, sinners! Though you're deep underground,
There's no need to be unhappy."

As if in a curious trance, the demons flocked towards the Songbat.

"Sinners! There's a place you can go.
I said, sinners!"

She picked up a beggar's hat, full of jingling coins, and tossed it at its owner. "When you're short on your dough.

"You can stay there." Tina zipped over to Alastor, swiped the flyers from him, and proceeded to pass them around.

"And I'm sure you will find
Many ways to have a good time."

The trumpeter blew four short notes as she jumped onto the edge of the fountain.

"It's fun to stay at the," she sang, throwing her remaining flyers up in the air, "Hazbin Hotel!

It's fun to stay at the Hazbin Hotel!"

Tina flapped her wings and threw her arms around two hobos.

"They have everything to get you on your feet,
And you never know who you'll meet."

"Hey, those aren't the words," somebody said.

"Who cares, it's still catchy?" someone else replied.

All the while, Tina kept singing.

"It's fun to stay at the Hazbin Hotel!
It's fun to stay at the Hazbin Hotel!
You can get yourself clean, you can have a good meal,
You can do whatever you feel."

Alastor watched as Tina went around, alluring the hobos into the promises of shelter and safety. He noticed the red light pulsing from her brooch, just like during their duet. Was that where the additional instrumental was coming from?

"Sinners," Tina continued, "are you listenin' to me?
I said, sinners, who do you wanna be?
I said, sinners, you can make real your dreams,
But you got to know this one thing.

"No one does it all by themselves
I said, sinners, put your pride on the shelf,
And just go there—"

She picked a flyer off the ground. "—to the Hazbin Hotel

And you just—" She shoved it to the nearest hobo. "—might escape from Hell."

On the next four beats, Tina clapped her hands. The audience joined her.

"It's fun to stay at the—" She pointed to the crowd with both hands.

"Hazbin Hotel!" they all chanted.

"What the—?" Alastor said.

Tina sang again, "It's fun to stay at the—"

"Hazbin Hotel!"

This wasn't natural. While Alastor didn't doubt his darling's charisma, there was no way a song would get this many demons excited about a hotel for redemption. After all, the Princess had already tried that, and it hadn't turned out well. What was the Songbat doing that was different?

The Radio Demon observed the crowd as Tina led them through the chorus. They couldn't seem to take their eyes off the Songbat. Of course, that was normal with how alluring a woman she was, but this was different.

Their eyes appeared glazed over, and Alastor could've sworn he saw a glimmer of red in them. Is it possible…?

He looked back at his wife as she high-fived the circle of demons. The same red light sparked in her eyes. His suspicions were confirmed.

The corners of Alastor's mouth crept up another inch. His precious love had always been chock full of delightful surprises.

By this time, other demons who were much better off had wandered into the square, drawn in by the song. Many of them pulled out their phones.

At the end of the chorus, Tina leaped back onto the fountain's edge.

"Sinners!" She pointed to herself. "I was once in your shoes.

"I said, I was—" Turning around, she brought a dramatic hand to her forehead. "—down and out with the blues."

She fell backward. A group of hobos hastened to catch her.

"I thought no one," she said as she was hoisted upward, "cared if I were alive."

Spreading her wings, she shot up into the air. "I thought the whole world was so tight.

"That's when—" Tina landed in front of her husband. "—someone came up to me."

Before Alastor realized what was happening, she yanked on his arm and dragged him to the fountain.

"And said, sinner, take a walk up the street."

She hopped up onto the marble rim. "There's a place there called the Hazbin Hotel.

"I'm sure they can get you out of Hell."

Tina gestured for Alastor to come up. His heart beat along with the trumpet.

At last, she was inviting him to join her in something.

He jumped up beside her, grabbed his mic out of midair and sang, "It's fun to stay at the—"

He held the mic out to the audience now flooding the square. "Hazbin Hotel!"

The couple sang together. "It's fun to stay at the—"

"Hazbin Hotel!"

Alastor grabbed Tina's hand and spun her as she sang the next verse:

"They have everything to get you on your feet.
And you never know who you'll meet."

On the last word, Tina sent her husband a wink. It took all his willpower not to kiss her then and there.

Throughout the rest of the song, the two of them danced on the fountain's edge while the crowd sang along. It was just like the old days. Only better.

"Sweet Jesus, I haven't done a performance like that since New Year's Eve of 2015!" Tina said on the walk back to the hotel.

"And you were marvelous, my dear!" Alastor took her by the hand and waist and spun her around. "Don't you see you were born for the stage? How could you have stayed away so long?"

Tina frowned and fluttered out of his hold. "Well, I got the attention of those hobos, anyway."

"Indeed, you did. Which is interesting." Alastor rubbed his chin. "When the Princess attempts to entice her audience with song, the results are disastrous. Yet when you pull the same method, everyone is entranced."

He cast her a sideways glance. "Why is that, I wonder?"

"First of all," Tina said, holding up a finger, "while the Princess has a good voice, she doesn't know her audience so well. No one down here shares her cupcakes-and-rainbows attitude. So not only did I appeal to their actual wants, but used a tune anyone who's been to a school dance in the last four decades would be familiar with. Secondly—"

"You used some kind of spell them, didn't you?"

Tina turned to him in surprise.

"I'm a master of magic, dear." Alastor bent down and poked her brooch. "Don't think I haven't noticed this glowing little talisman of yours."

Her hand flew to her jewel.

"Oh, don't worry, chère. If you want to use mind control to bring in customers, I don't disapprove." He shrugged. "Can't say the same for our colleagues."

"It ain't mind control. It's more like…" She rolled her wrist. "Emotion inducing. Ya know how certain songs can make ya feel certain emotions? Well, all I really do is guarantee whoever hears me sing feels that intended emotion. I wasn't hypnotizin' the crowd to come to the hotel, but gettin' 'em excited enough to listen."

"Mmm-hmm. And what about the instrumental, aside from the trumpet? Was your brooch responsible for that as well?"

"Err, yeah. It can alter any sound source, really. Not much different from what you do."

"Hmm. Interesting little trinket." He squinted in an attempt to get a better look at the brooch. "Wherever did you get it?"

She covered it with her other hand. "It was a, uh, gift."

It wasn't a complete lie. Hopefully, it was enough to stop him from asking questions.

The truth was that when the Radio Demon had charmed her engagement ring, he'd left a little power inside. Whether he'd been aware of it or not, she didn't know. A few deals after she'd started her business, she'd figured out how to channel that power. But she couldn't explain all this to Alastor without revealing she'd kept the rings.

"Don't tell anyone about this, okay?" Tina said. "Especially Vaggie and the Princess. I don't want 'em thinkin' I brought people to the hotel against their will."

"Oh, dear Tina." Alastor raised his hand and crossed his heart. "Have I ever betrayed any of your secrets?"

"No." She clenched her jewel. "You haven't."

When they returned to the hotel, the lobby was crowded. Alastor and Tina had to do a doubletake. The demons lined up at the front desk were not the same ones who'd arrived along with the Songbat. Husk was scrambling to find the room keys, as he'd yet to give any out.

"Al! Tina!" Charlie rushed over to them, her smile brighter than ever. "Isn't this amazing? Can you believe it?"

Alastor blinked. "Where in blazes did all these sinners come from?"

"Your video went viral! Demons just won't stop coming through the door!" Charlie grabbed Tina's hand and shook it. "I knew you'd be a big help! I can't thank you enough! You too, Al! Now come on, help me pass out these questionnaires!"

She chucked a pile of sheets into Tina's arms. Alastor stared dumbfounded at the crowd of new guests.

"See?" With a smirk, Tina patted his shoulder. "Told ya I'd get their attention."

He looked down at his wife and widened his grin. "Well, I'll be damned."

"Well, would you look at that, Tom? It seems the Princess's loser hotel has gone viral with another, no doubt, humiliating video! And the star is, once again, the disgraced Overlord known as the Radio Demon, along with… I'm sorry. Am I reading this right? Someone pull up the feed. I need to check this."

The viral video popped up onscreen. The chameleon demon watching spat out his beer.

"I don't believe it, Katie!" said Tom Trench. "It's Tina Twinkle, also known as the Songbat, also known as the Radio Demon's wife!"

The chameleon sprang from his easy chair and went up to the dinky television set. There Tina was, dancing with the Radio Demon atop a fountain, a crowd cheering them on.

"This…this is unprecedented!" Katie said in a strained voice. "According to our resources, the Radio Demon and his wife haven't made a public appearance together in almost a decade!"

"That's right, Katie. Not since the Songbat made a name for herself and started that popular nightclub, The Reckoning, which was blown up in the turf war between Sir Pentious and Cherri Bomb."

Katie laughed. "Naturally, the bat runs to her Sugar Daddy for help. Seems only truly desperate souls are getting into this ridiculous redemption fad. Eh, Tom?"

"Err, no kidding, Katie. Our man on the street just reported that there's a line forming at the hotel's entrance."

"WHAT?!"

The chameleon didn't care about the reporter's live breakdown. All he could do was stare at the video still playing in the background. At that bastard touching his Tina. And that bitch just letting him.

The chameleon's hell phone rang. He picked it off the coffee table, read the caller ID, and his scales turned white as snow. His hand shook as he answered the call.

"H-Hi, boss."

"Camille," said a deep, distorted voice. "Are you watching the news right now?"

Camille gulped. "Y-Yes, sir."

Just then, a long, claw-like hand stretched out of the television. Camille yelped and dropped the phone.

"Oh, not again!"

The claw grabbed him by the tie and pulled him through the screen. Then he came face-to-face with another screen. One that wore a frown. The chameleon's scales were getting whiter by the second.

"Mr. Léon," Vox said, his screen glitching with every syllable. "Care to explain why I just saw our deer friend dancing around with his supposed ex-wife?"

Vox slammed Camille against the flatscreen TV he'd just pulled him out of, still on Channel 666 News.

"You said you and your little snitch were gonna take care of this!"

"W-We are!" Camille stammered. "I mean we will! My spy said there was no way those two were gonna get back together!"

"Their little musical number says otherwise!" Vox dropped the chameleon. "Camille, I thought we had a deal. I want revenge on the Radio Demon, you want revenge on his Sugar Baby. You were supposed to deliver the bat to me."

"A-And I will!" Camille stood, massaging his sore neck. "We didn't plan this. We didn't think she was desperate enough to run back to the radio bastard. Why couldn't we make a move when her club was destroyed?"

"I told you," Vox said. "The bat has a special ring she can use to summon Radio Boy. Whether they're still together or not, she's not so stupid to throw something like that away."

"But she doesn't wear a ring. My spy says the only jewel she wears is that amethyst brooch."

"Is that so? Hmm."

Vox turned back to the flatscreen, and without using a remote, rewound the footage. He paused at a frame zoomed in on the Songbat. Something caught his eye. A red dot on her amethyst brooch.

"Tell your spy to get that brooch," Vox said with a digital grin. "I wanna have a look at it."

"I-It won't be easy with the Radio Demon keeping a close eye on her," Camille said.

"Then find a way to tear them apart."

"How?"

Vox felt like he was speaking to a toddler. "Use your imagination."

Yes, the chameleon's name is Camille Léon. Don't kill me.