So, here we are with a very different project of mine. A Hazbin fic based around an obscure rhythm game! Where will this lead? Only Lucifer knows!

While Charlie had many fanciful ideas in the past, today she actually had to bring them to fruition. As she stood in the dingy lobby of the building that she had bought, she checked the watch. It had been almost two days, and no one had shown up yet. The only person with her was Vaggie, who at this point was the only one on board with her idea.

"Anything yet?" the blond demoness asked.

Vaggie refreshed the email page she had open and saw there was no change. "Nope. Zero replies. I've already been deleting all of the douchebag trolls sending you threats and dick pics, though."

"Heh, thanks…" Charlie sulked, "I just… What went wrong?"

"Well… The idea did seem pretty far out there. I mean, it sounded really interesting on paper, but…"

"I know, I know! I just thought it was so original and unique that it would grab people looking to apply for the job."

Both girls thought back to the advertisement Charlie had put on every television station in Hell. It was a bold and expensive move, one that cost Charlie a good chunk of her life savings, but she put everything into this. They could both still hear and see every detail. The usual ads for liquor, strip clubs and newsflashes about the latest acts of terrorism suddenly gave way to a bright pink firework before Charlie's smiling face took over the screen as J-pop blared in the background.

"Hey there, denizens of Hell! You may know me as daughter of Lucifer and that junk, but what if I told you that in the next week, I'll be the head of a special organization?"

The camera then panned out to reveal Charlie was in a typical army general's uniform and standing in a high-tech control room as she paced back and forth. "Now this organization is no gang, no operation, and no scam. This is a special task force with a very particular mission in mind. We are…"

She then grabbed the waist of her top and flung the whole outfit off like a cape, revealing a glittering cheerleading uniform colored neon pink around the arms with a blinding skirt to match along with a silver midsection where the letters "EBA" were printed in gold sequins.

"Elite! Beat! Agents!"

With each word, a matching firework exploded behind her as Charlie started flipping and jumping across the set, all with perfect balance and poise before pointing right at the camera with a pink pom-pom in hand.

"Our mission? To inspire demons to better their own lives and the world around them! How do we do it? The unbeatable power of DANCE! How do you call us? Simply yell for help anywhere in Hell and we'll come to you!"

The music finally died down and the camera slowly zoomed back in on Charlie's face, her expression enthusiastic but also pleading.

"I believe that every one of you out there has the power to turn yourselves around and even help others do the same. All we do is bring out that side of you. And if you want to help our mission, just call this number or send us an email and join up, donate or even just encourage us. A little act of kindness can make all the difference."

The ad then ended and, unfortunately, a huge portion of the underworld started laughing their heads off. The fledgling agency's phone lines and inbox was flooded with disparaging messages saying the EBA was a hysterical joke but it would never work, only offering to help in exchange for hanky-panky with the princess of Hell or people somehow thinking they were a new nightclub opening up and wanting to know their hours. Even now, Vaggie found a video of the ad online had millions of views but nothing but scorn and derision in the comments.

Charlie, meanwhile, opened up her phone and saw more messages but none from her parents. She figured if anything was finally going to get their attention it was a chance to mock her, but even now they were silent. The hopeful hell spawn was about to close things down when the door to the auditorium opened. She turned around, eager to see if it was an applicant, only for her cheer to die almost immediately. Standing in front of her was none other than Alastor the Radio Demon.

"Oh dear!" he remarked, glancing around at the cracked floorboards and cobwebs hanging from the ceiling, "This is far from what I call a proper audition. I mean, there's nowhere for the losers to cry after they've been rejected!"

Charlie tried to form a reaction other than a nervous giggle, but Vaggie was one step ahead of her. She stood up pointing at the same door the red-clad demon walked in from with her other hand over her pocket where she kept her throwing knives.

"Oh no! Nononono! Out! I don't care what you're here for, pendejo, but the answer is no!"

"Ouch, my fragile ego!" Alastor swooned, a staticky gasp playing out as he mimed falling to the floor in shock only to pick himself back up. "And here I was going to offer my assistance on this little cabaret you're throwing but if you're not interested…"

"Hold on," Charlie piped up, "Assist us how?"

Vaggie was about to pull her girlfriend aside to warn her against that but Alastor beat her to it. "Well, you see now, before I do anything, I want to see what I'm… investing in, so to speak. That and your little ad was harder to decipher than an Enigma machine! Firstly, what do you hope to gain with this little agency?"

"I want to help redeem demons so that they can reach Heaven instead of-" she started before he laughed, and a laugh track backed him up, drowning out her voice.

"Oh goodness, and here I hoped that was the punchline to a killer joke! Hahaha, alright then, if that's your intention, how does your little cheerleading routine fix that?"

"Because I have powers too! And also, the cheerleading outfit was just for the advertisement. I actually dance dressed in something more like this…" she then gestured down to the peach suit jacket and black slacks she had on.

"Oh? And what's stopping someone from killing your little dance routine?"

"That I can show you!" Charlie exclaimed much more happily as she opened a door on the side of the room leading downstairs. Alastor was about to follow her, but Vaggie put herself between the two.

"Afraid of little old me, are we?" he asked the glaring demoness cheekily.

"No, I'm just not an idiot."

Though she could not see it, Alastor almost seemed impressed by that response as he followed the two into a much more well-kept room. It looked like a command center with two large beeping computer consoles lined up in front of a massive green screen dominating the back wall which had a map of Hell displayed on it. Charlie's assistants, Razzle and Dazzle, sat at the machines ensuring they were running optimally while a massive desk sat in front of the screen with a comfy swivel chair was empty.

"This is EBA Headquarters," Charlie explained, "I had this place remodeled to act as a GPS locator for anyone in Hell."

"Well, I must say, color me impressed! You weren't just full of fluff and empty promises after all. However, as much of a doozy as this is, how does this all work?

"Bad with computers?" Vaggie asked, trying to hide the slight smile on her face.

"Watch it, girlie," he warned her before Charlie started explaining.

"See, I've always been the one during the Purge to give the warning and all-clear signals, so I've learned how to listen really well. I can hear whenever someone calls for help. Problem is I only get a general location so I had this machine attuned to my powers so it can locate exactly where they are. Then the agents head out and that's when we dance, while cloaked I should add, to cheer someone up."

"Fascinating! But pray tell, do you really think this is healthy? I mean, if anyone could just waltz up and alter someone's mind like that…"

"I've thought of that already. That's why I need someone to call for help first. They have to want the change and improvement."

Alastor mulled over all she had said for a moment before sticking out his hand. "Alrighty then! It looks like you're completely serious about this charade, but it sounds too crazy to pass up! I'm in!"

"Hold it!" Charlie stopped him, briefly glancing over to meet Vaggie's eye before continuing. She only gave a brief nod, but it was all the blonde needed at this point.

"Okay, not that I'm not, um, super grateful for the offer, but I know better than to take deals from you."

"Who, me?" Alastor feigned, "I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about…" He tried to play gospel music to sell his point, but Charlie was not budging.

"Now, eh, I understand you see this as just a game, but to me this is beyond important. I can't just stand by and watch demons die like this no matter what they've done in life. I want to give them a better chance in life."

"As hopelessly naïve as you sound, it does sound entertaining as here to watch! So, is that a yes?"

"It is… but I'd like to think of you as a volunteer! No handshake, no deals, none of that jazz."

"Oh? And then why should I lift a finger for you?"

"Um, well… funsies?"

The Radio Demon thought over her offer, and how her voice grew meeker with each line she just spoke and decided what the heck.

"Very well then! Volunteer it is! So, 'boss,' what will you be needing to get started?"

"Um, okay, well first I need two backup dancers. My powers work better with more dancers and-"

"Say no more!" Alastor then used his own powers to open a doorway in one of the walls of the HQ revealing two demons playing poker. Both of them were grey skinned mostly humanoid demons dressed in fine tuxes, but the one on the left had a switchblade clearly sticking out of his front lapel pocket while the other was smoking three cigarettes at once. They were so engrossed in their game they did not even notice being summoned.

"Merek! Dorris! Old buddies o' mine, have I got deals for you!"

The two demons only then looked up from their cards and saw they were now in a control room instead of Dorris's basement.

"Oh, great…" Merek sighed, pulling off his fedora to reveal a flask, "The fuck do you want?"

"Let me guess," Dorris stopped him, casually pulling a bowie knife out of the red afro defying gravity on his head, "Some other hare-brained scheme that leads with you profiting off us going down the shitter? Again?!"

"Now now, gents, I'm very aware I didn't do right by you last time. But now, I have a proposition that, if you see it through, I'll consider my debt with you squared away!"

"Is that what you call it?!" Dorris shouted, "You left us red-handed in a moonshine still taking the heat for your bullshit!"

"Hey, champ," Merek stopped him, even standing in front of him before he could shiv Alastor, or at least try to, and pointed over to a rather startled Charlie.

"Hey, isn't she Lucifer's girl or something?"

"A sharp eye there, partner!" Alastor said patting him on the back, "This is Charlie and she needs your help with her latest business endeavor."

"Yeah, no," Merek insisted, "We don't do hits. We're douches, I'll admit it…"

"Speak for yourself!" Dorris shouted, "But I've just got rotten luck!"

"Um, actually?" Charlie piped in, before glancing at the smirking Alastor, "I needed… dancers. And my, um, new… investor?"

"I prefer benefactor," the Radio Demon informed.

"Okay then, my benefactor here mentioned you two. So, heh, can you dance?"

The two new demons stared at each other in shock, swearing they must have misheard her, but Charlie's question sounded completely earnest. Rather than respond, they both nodded.

"Great, but I think we need to compare styles first. You two wanna head upstairs and rehearse for a bit?"

They nodded again and followed her back into the auditorium leaving Vaggie and Alastor downstairs. While the latter was getting comfortable at the head table, even humming a little tune to himself, the other was less than impressed.

"Alright," she asked, "What's the catch?"

"'Catch?' Darling, you insult me!" Alastor laughed, "This agency will either be an incredibly unique success or a hysterical failure! I'm getting plenty out of this deal already!

"Mierda."

"I'm sorry, no hablo español and all that, but shouldn't you be tidying the place up or something instead of lecturing me? That lobby's pretty shabby."

Vaggie resisted the urge to slit the other demon's throat long enough to say one last sentence. "If you hurt Charlie, I don't care who you are!"

She then stomped up the stairs, leaving Alastor to lounge in his new seat. In a rare moment for the infamous Radio Demon, he was being completely serious with his promise. He had no ulterior motives for signing on to this new agency… yet.

A brief prologue, but the first mission of the agents is coming soon!