1:28 pm

'I swear, I'm still running out of things to do.' Jersey thought as he idly laid on his back. He was once again in his room, a belly full of a lunch fixed by Niffty, and a mind empty of ideas to pass the time. He wanted something new to happen, particularly a new work opportunity either at the hotel, or somewhere else in Pentagram City. Although Jersey had received a very generous payment from Rosie, he had yet to receive any other calls about his services.

It occurred to him that he still had his fishing rod set available. Jersey had put off going on such a venture partially because it would not have been a productive way to pass the time.

"Maybe I have earned a little fishing trip to myself." He muttered thoughtfully. It had been a long time since he had cast a line out onto a calm body of water. Besides, it was hardly a sin to enjoy an activity that was so benign as to catch and release fish for fun.

The musing did not last long. Jersey soon heard a knock at the door, and he took his time to answer it. He was surprised to see that it was Angel, dressed in a casual sweater which reached down to his slim thighs. The adult film star was clearly looking impatient with Jersey's slow response.

"Angel? What are you doing here?"

"I need ya help to fix a clog in my sink." Angel explained.

Jersey would normally be more than happy to help, but he was aware of Angel Dust's lustful nature, and he was not going to suffer an attempt to be accosted or teased while trying to work. The first time they had met, the arachnid sinner had irritated him with his unwanted advances. Jersey narrowed his eyes, carefully judging Angel's behavior. "Is that so?"

Reading the reaction of Jersey well, Angel gave a tired roll of his eyes. "Can ya just help me? I promise I'll leave ya be. I'm just sick of havin' the wata' takin' so damn long to go down the fuckin' drain."

"Okay, calm down." Jersey said, raising his hands in a placating manner. "I'll be at your room in a spiffy. Heck, I could even give you some advice on how to drain it yourself."

"Myself? Ain'tcha worried that ya might lose out on jobs if ya teach us how to fix these problems ourselves?"

"Fixing a drain is pretty easy if you have the right tools. A monkey could do it. Besides," Jersey assured, "I doubt You could learn how to install a sink in less than an hour's time."

Angel was momentarily speechless at Jersey's boast. Then he leaned back with a mildly impressed face. "Touché."

"Just give me about half an hour, and I'll be there."

"Half an hour?" Angel asked incredulously. "What the fuck are ya gonna do in the next half hour?"

Jersey allowed a patient smile. "Just wait and see. I need that time for some preparation.

2:00 pm

Currently checking his social media out of boredom, Angel Dust allowed his mind to wonder about why Jersey would take his time. The guy seemed too straight-laced, (aka boring as drying paint), to engage in a prank, so he had to assume that Jersey was looking for some unique tool or something to that effect to help with his problem. Outside of an anarchic adventure with Cherri Bomb, a romp with a particularly gifted client, or a hearty dose of PCP, managing the following of his Voxtagram account was one of his favorite pastimes.

With Fat Nuggets napping in a mess of blankets on the other side of the bed, Angel had left his pet to his rest. The room was silent to the point of anxiety inducing. Before Angel could consider lighting a cigarette to help pass the time, the door was knocked. Angel leapt to his gangly feet to greet whom he assumed was Jersey. He was correct, but he was mildly confused by the equipment that he had brought for the job.

Clenched in one of his hands was a small, white pitcher filled with steaming water and a measuring cup filled with a white powder. For a moment, he wondered if Jersey had actually brought coke to help him with the job, which would have been amazing from his point of view. In Jersey's off hand was a container of vinegar, which confused Angel the most.

"What the hell did you bring?"

"A pitcher of boiling water, some baking soda, and vinegar."

Angel was disappointed that Jersey did not bring drugs for the both of them to consume. Likewise, he looked utterly bewildered that the plumber of the hotel had spent time to bring along substances that were universally thought of as ingredients to a child's science experiment. "How the fuck is that gonna fix the clog in my sink?"

"Trust me, when you see the results, you'll be pleasantly surprised."

Angel Dust rolled his eyes, feeling doubtful at Jersey's insistence. "Okay, but if you fuck up my sink, I'll tellin' Charlie to consider kickin' your ass to the curb." His empty threat issued, he turned to lead the handyman to the place where his talents were needed.

Angel's room looked as if it had been modified to be a makeup room for a celebrity of great renown. Given his reputation as an adult film star, Jersey assumed that that was perfectly normal. The room stank of cigarette smoke and body sweat, much to his disgust, but he did not bring it up in conversation, knowing that Niffty would doubtless take care of the smell once she was given the opportunity. An open closet showing a myriad of outfits was on his right, and the bathroom were the problem was located was to the left, away from the luxurious, albeit messy bed that was in the back center of the room.

"Here it is, mistah plumbin' expert." Angel explained, showing a sink that was stained by dried toothpaste and a myriad of makeup products such as blush and foundation.

"Okay, now let me walk you through how I'm gonna settle this." Jersey set down the cup of baking soda and the vinegar, but he kept a grip on the pitcher of steaming water in hand. "First, I'm going to pour some boiling water into the sink."

Angel backed away, worried about the potential of splashing water scalding him in the process. Meanwhile, Jersey gently poured out the bubbling contents into the sink. The volume of the hot water being placed into the basin settled into a pool almost five inches high, and the very faint sound of water slowly draining were visual and audible indicators that the sink was heavily clogged up. The exceptionally hot water took five minutes to drain completely, during which time, Jersey sent a text, though Angel did not notice.

"So, we just gonna wait?"

"For a short bit."

"Oh joy..." Angel hated waiting for something remotely exciting to happen.

"I didn't say this was going to be fun. I said I'd take you through the process so if this happens again, you can do it yourself. Speaking of which, we will now pour the baking soda."

"So, we're actually gonna do that thing that makes a volcano thing go boom?"

"Well, there will be a reaction, but I promise it won't be nearly so dramatic."

Angel thought about something briefly. Then he let out let out a chuckle. "You sure you didn't take inspiration on this 'solution' from the new guy stayin' at this place?"

"I assure you this is an established home remedy for clogged drains." Jersey insisted. "Although I suppose Baxter would get a kick outta this."

"Speaking of, whaddya think of the guy?" Angel inquired, leaning up against the shower door.

"I'm not sure." Jersey said with a light shrug. "It's probably too soon for me to have an opinion of him. Seems like a solitary person."

"Heh, ya tellin' me. He's a literal cold fish! Just like you and Husky! I swear, outside of work, I'm constantly gettin' blue balls for all of my trouble." Angel complained dramatically.

"Truly your unrequited flirtations are a tragedy." Jersey remarked dryly.

"Screw you." Angel growled.

"No thank you. I'm not gay."

Angel sighed, leaving the room to grab a cigarette. He would need it if he was going to be in close proximity to one of the most prudish individuals in the Hotel, second only to Alastor. Once Angel returned, the cup of baking soda had its contents dumped into the sink basin.

"After the boiling water had drained, we will put baking soda into the basin. It doesn't need to be much." Then, putting the mixing cup to the side, Jersey grabbed the vinegar.

"Next is the vinegar?" Asked Angel, though the answer was quite obvious.

"Now we pour the vinegar." Jersey agreed with a nod. A generous amount of the bitter substance joined its chemical partner in the sink. When the clear liquid came into contact with the baking soda, a tremendous bubbling effect occurred. The excited liquid reaction drained somewhat more easily than the boiled water, much to Angel's interest.

"So, how does this stuff get ridda' clogs again?"

"When you add baking soda and vinegar together," Jersey explained, "it creates water and carbon dioxide. The bubbles of carbon dioxide gas help to break up whatever is making the clogs in the pipe."

"Huh... that's cool..." Angel said softly.

"It's a nice little remedy." Jersey said in an agreeable tone. "However, you sometimes need to plunge the drain somewhat to help with the process, so it isn't a be all, end all solution. Now we wait for the reaction to drain down."

Angel let out a short drag of his cigarette. Jersey was mildly irritated by the smoke, but said nothing. He had worked for many customers who smoked tobacco, so he was somewhat used to it.

"Wanna smoke?" Angel offered.

"No thanks." Jersey said. "I don't smoke or take in any drugs beyond an occasional glass of whiskey. That's why I'm so fit." He stated in a very sure way.

Angel scoffed, then flexed his four arms with a bold grin on his face. "I get high on a shitload of drugs all the damn time, and I'm a fuckin' stud!"

Jersey gave a dry, disbelieving chuckle. "You don't say."

"Don't knock it 'til ya try it, Jersey baby." Angel cooed.

When the bubbling water in the sink finally disappeared down the drain, Jersey was about to reach for his phone again to send another text to the person he was messaging earlier. Suddenly, Niffty sprinted into Angel's room, carrying a pitcher of boiling water that miraculously did not splash a drop when its currier stopped in her tracks. Niffty presented the steaming container to Jersey with a trademark, thousand watt grin.

"I got the water!" She announced proudly.

Angel was less than thrilled, leaping onto one foot and nearly dropping his cigarette in fright. "Jeezus! What the fuck, Nifft!?"

"Calm down, Angel." Jersey carefully relieved Niffty of her extremely hot cargo, then dismissed her with a gentle word of thanks. "I asked for Niffty to prepare the second-to-last step in the process to get rid of the clogs. We need to pour one last pitcher of boiling water to get rid of the loosened junk in the drainage pipe."

Angel relaxed, but was still not entirely forgiving of the surprise visit from the hotel's one maid. "Well, next time give me a goddamn warnin'."

This third round of pouring took only eight or so seconds to accomplish. At this point, water swirled down the drain at a moderate speed, significantly improving from its earlier condition. The deluge of various liquids into the sink had also helped to somewhat clean up the basin.

"Now we let the sink run with hot water for a few minutes to make sure the waste water is draining correctly."

"Huh... that easy huh?" Angel asked.

"Well, like I said, sometimes the clogs are so bad the drain will need to be plunged, but otherwise, it can be done with household ingredients."

"I didn't know you could plunge a sink." Angel commented offhandedly.

"It's not the same as a toilet plunger. I imagine you can buy it at a store or online, if you needed to."

"Eh... maybe if I could use it on my ass just for fun, I'll consider it." Angel said with a straight face.

Jersey pinched the bridge of his nose in disgust. "TMI, Angel." He said in a warning tone.

Angel merely laughed, slapping one of his slender hands on his knee in his moment of levity. "Calm ya tits, Jers. I was just kiddin'. I really do appreciate ya help."

"No problem." Jersey said with a dry but professional tone. "Now you can fix a clogged sink on your own."

"Guess ya learn something new everyday. So do I pay ya or..."

"Charlotte pays me." Jersey explained. "I'm just gonna catalog it with her in her office." He gathered the empty containers and the bottle of vinegar as he departed. "See you later Angel."

"See ya."

Immediately as he was walking through the doorway, Jersey saw the fluttering of dark fabric rushing down the hall towards his room. Curious, he saw that the corner of fabric was entering into Baxter's room, the door slamming shut. It appeared as though Baxter was returning to his new quarters in a great hurry. As for what reason, Jersey could not discern.

"Huh. Looked like he was racing towards a fire..." He commented figuratively. As strange as the sight was, it was nothing to outright investigate. Shrugging his shoulders, Jersey casually walked towards the stairwell. He'd clean up after his home remedy for the sink clogging before meeting with Charlie to document his first job at the hotel in weeks.

A somewhat contentious debate was taking place in Charlie's office. Charlie, charitable as usual, was playing, pun unintended, Devil's advocate for the latest sinner to try her slowly evolving "redemption therapy" sessions. Vaggie, a reasonably cynical woman, could not help but point out the deficits of the newest addition to the Hazbin Hotel's population.

"Baxter did fine. He was more mature about it than Angel was in his first session." Charlie reasoned.

"Maturity does not equal commitment." Vaggie pointed out. "Did you not see and hear Baxter? He looked eager to get out of there the moment you dismissed him, and that's not even talking about his obsession with science. I swear he's up to-"

There was a knock at the door.

Charlie let out a sigh. "We'll talk about this later. Come in!"

In stepped Jersey, though he kept one foot out in the hallway. This was to be a brief visit to the office, and he was going to return to his room in short order.

"Hello!" Charlie greeted. "Did you need something?"

"I wanted to let you know that I helped take out a clog in Angel's sink."

"Awesome!" Charlie commented.

"Did he make any pipe innuendoes?" Vaggie asked tiredly.

"Well, he was his usual self, but it wasn't too bad. He gave up with the flirting and went straight to business." Jersey answered.

"That's surprising." Vaggie said, not expecting the handyman's shorthand account.

"So, how much do I owe you?" Charlie asked. She bought out a log book and swiftly flipped it the nearest empty section to add to what would be needed to fairly pay Jersey for his latest services.

"Eh... I'd say fifteen dollars." Jersey said. "Baking powder, vinegar, and boiling water is pretty cheap."

Vaggie looked confused. "...what?"

"Maybe I'll explain at dinner." Jersey said.

Charlie quickly jotted down the recorded job and swiftly put away the log book. "Thanks for the hard work, Jersey!"

"No problem, Charlotte. By the way, what were you two arguing about?"

Charlie looked mildly stressed that her conversation with Vaggie had been that loud. She quickly and gently extinguished Jersey's curiosity. "We can't tell you that. Classified information."

Vaggie gave an impressed stare at Charlie for her words.

Jersey had no reason to contest the issue. "Ah. Pardon me, then. I'll just be back at my room if you need me."

The room was soon left with just the Princess and her best friend.

Charlie's stare at Vaggie was not harsh, but it was firm. "Like I said, we can talk about it later. Maybe after dinner."

Vaggie gave an agreeing nod.

2:40 pm

Niffty, always making her rounds to keep the hotel spotless, was going through the first floor to house people after helping. Angel Dust, Jersey, and Baxter all shared that floor, and no problems arose before the latest addition to the tenant population. Niffty's venture to clean up Angel Dust's room had taken the longest, for he cared little about the cigarette ashes, dirty clothes, and other inexplicable stains that regularly made his room filthy. It took time and multiple pairs of disposable gloves to cope with the vigorous scrubbing that she had to engage in, but she was successful in her goal of making Angel's room considerably more pleasant to stand in.

Jersey's room was a simple sweep for dust and some washing of his bathroom. He took care of his own laundry, and was conscientious about the freshness of his bedsheets and the general state of the floor. Niffty spent some of the time swooning over Jersey's mind for cleanliness before moving on to Baxter's room.

Unlike Jersey or Angel Dust's rooms, she found Baxter's room to be firmly locked. Furthermore, she could hear various sounds behind the door, particularly footsteps made by boots. Suspicious, but tactful, Niffty knocked on the door. There was a cacophony of hasty footsteps and the clinking of glass behind the door. It was soon unlocked, but it was only cracked open, with one of Baxter goggle covered eyes peering tensely from the slim opening in the door.

The general lack of light peering through the door meant that the blinds were closed and no electrical appliances were on. Niffty's speculation was put to rest by the nervous voice of Baxter.

"Can I help you?" He asked curtly.

Niffty kept a sunny disposition as she answered his question. "Hello~! It's housekeeping time~!"

Baxter's answer was blunt and somewhat unexpected. "No thank you, my room's quite tidy."

He tried to close the door, but Niffty slipped in the handle of her feather duster into the opening, keeping it from closing. The cycloptic maid's attitude quickly became annoyed by Baxter's interference.

"I'll be the judge of that." Her tone was that of a teacher trying to find out if one of her students had finished their homework, only to be met with a weak excuse.

"I assure you," Baxter continued with false civility, "that I do not require your services, maid."

"Would you just-" Niffty tried to use her free arms to pry the door open, but although her strength momentarily surprised Baxter, he took the opportunity to kick away the feather duster that had previously jammed the door open away. Finally, the scientifically inclined sinner slammed the door and made multiple locks on the door shut.

Niffty was indignant.

"Hey! You open this door mister! I am going to clean your room if it's the last thing that I-"

"Woah!" Cried Charlie as she happened upon the scene. "What's going on here?"

"Baxter won't let me in to clean his room!" Niffty answered with a pout. "I haven't cleaned it since yesterday, before he came, so I have to get in there to be thorough."

Charlie saw the situation and decided that diplomacy was the best option. She gently knocked on Baxter's door, bidding him to answer her. The door was not opened, but Charlie was not discouraged.

"Baxter?" She asked.

"Yes?" Baxter replied, sounding mildly irritated.

"Would you please open up your room so that Niffty can clean it? It probably won't even take a few minutes." She reasoned.

"I take my privacy very seriously." Baxter answered. "I do not want that excitable maid getting close to my-me!"

Understandably, Charlie was confused by Baxter's reasoning. There was plenty of conditions that could be met to ensure that Niffty left Baxter alone while she did the necessary cleaning in his room. One by one, Charlie went through ideas in her head to convince Baxter to allow Niffty to do her job.

"What if you just took a walk down the hall while Niffty does her job? She won't be near you, and-"

"I refuse." Baxter said firmly.

No matter how much Charlie argued, it proved to be a fruitless endeavor. The Princess of Hell decided that it was a better idea to let Niffty not be bogged down in a stalemate that Baxter had no interest in breaking.

"How about you keep going on with your schedule for the day, Niffty. We'll clean his room later."

The little maid stomped away, her sun-colored gaze glaring at Baxter's door. She entered another room to begin the cleaning process again, without her characteristic cheer.

Charlie stared on at the entrance to Baxter's room. She was not entirely certain of what to think of his stubborn commitment to solitude.

5:03 pm

Even at dinner, Niffty had not let go of the fact that Baxter had vehemently refused to allow her to clean his room. She spent much of the time glaring at Baxter, something which Alastor noticed quite easily.

"Whatever is the matter, my dear Niffty?" Alastor asked with a fatherly tone.

"Some stupid fish with a lab coat wouldn't let me do my job." She grumbled childishly.

Vaggie overheard Niffty's complaint. "What?"

"Baxter wouldn't let me clean his room!" Niffty spoke aloud, pointing an accusatory finger at the scientific sinner in question.

Baxter, sitting closest to the exit back into the corridor which lead to the lobby, glanced up with wide eyes. He looked like a deer in headlights.

Angel did not understand the severity of the situation, at least from Niffty's point of view. "So? Some of us like our fuckin' privacy."

Baxter grinned assuredly as Angel brought up the point. Niffty, however, was quickly losing patience.

"But I have to!" Niffty cried. "I have to clean up every room in the Hazbin Hotel! Otherwise, bugs and rats and other pests will be drawn inside by the filth!"

"I can assure you," said Baxter in a reserved manner, "that I have no insects or rats to speak of. Now let the matter go. I wish to enjoy my meal in peace."

Niffty growled in frustration before settling on eating her pork chops aggressively. The evening became so tense and awkward that Vaggie could not even bring herself to ask Jersey about how he had fixed up the clog in Angel's room. What was certain was that a few of the hotel's residents had their eyes kept on Baxter out of suspicion.

9:37 am, the next day

It was perhaps natural that Vaggie would start to feel more and more agitated at the lonesome and suspicious behavior of Baxter. It had been two days since Baxter's arrival, and she was inside a closet down the hall between Charlie's office and the main lobby making a catalog of the various games and activities being stored there. Charlie had suggested that a large choice of games from chess to soccer should be implemented to provide less sinful outlets for anyone who found themselves bored in the Hazbin Hotel.

Suddenly, Vaggie heard a commotion from the lobby.

"What the fuck are you doin'?"

The spear maiden's head perked up and turned in the direction of the noise. It sounded like Husk.

"None of your business." Growled an increasingly familiar voice. It was Baxter, and he was in no mood for any inquiries on whatever was going on.

Vaggie left the list behind on a spare cardboard box to enter the lobby. Her ears picked up the closing of an elevator and saw that someone was heading up the floor. Suspecting that it was Baxter, she let this speculation simmer in her mind while she examined the lobby.

Husk was standing at his usual post with a bottle of booze lazily being swirled by his right paw. Much of the scene looked normal, except for some shiny fragments scattered in on one section of the carpeted floor. Upon walking nearer to the scene, Vaggie saw that there was broken glass on the carpet near one of the lobby's ostentatious decorations. Kneeling down to take a closer look, she questioned what had happened.

"What was Baxter doing?"

"Carrying a bunch of glass stuff." Husk explained. "Looked like he had a drawer or somethin' in his hands. A lot of shit made of glass was piled into it and one tube lookin' thing dropped and broke. That egghead was hurryin' to the elevator real fuckin' quick."

Down on the ground, several piece of glass laid strewn in an area slightly bigger than a dinner plate. One particularly big piece of glass had a rounded end, with a jagged, broken tube-like structure that was nearly two inches in length. The rest of the glass was in smaller pieces, with one fragment looking like a ring with a lipped end. The various pieces strewn before Vaggie were soon carefully picked up and placed in one of her hands.

"Is this a test tube?" Vaggie asked aloud. It certainly looked like a test tube, given the two distinct ends of the once unbroken glass object at her feet. The glass looked quite clean, so it was either brand new or it had been meticulously cleaned.

"I ain't no quack." Husker answered with a drawl, returning to his alcohol once more.

Vaggie immediately ran up the stairs, hoping to cut off Baxter before he could return to his solitary residence. Despite her best efforts, the door to his room was shut: she had missed him. Cursing under her breath, she knocked on his door with some restraint.

"Baxter?" She asked sternly. "Open this door."

To her genuine surprise, Baxter did crack open the door, with half of his face revealed in the light of the hallway.

"May I help you, madam?" He asked innocently.

"What is this?" Vaggie brought up the shattered test tube in her hand.

Baxter's eyes slightly widened, and his jaw tensed. He dismissed the evidence of his strange behavior with as calm of a voice as he could muster. "I haven't the faintest idea."

"Do not lie to me." Vaggie hissed. "Husk saw you carrying a whole box-load of glass objects just like this. Are you performing experiments in there?"

The fish demon scoffed. "Do you really trust the testimony of a perpetually drunk layabout like Husker? It could be a shattered light bulb. Doesn't that Jersey fellow act as this hotel's electrician?"

Vaggie narrowed her one good eye, equally suspicious and frustrated. Her very fragile trust was already strained to the breaking point, but Baxter's answer was, however weakly, a point that he could use to defend himself if confronted by the likes of Charlie.

"I literally heard you in the lobby from down the hall." Vaggie added.

"I am a very private person." Baxter said. "I certainly do not appreciate some people interfering in my affairs. It is a right that you have as well. Do you not agree that being pestered about your actions can add undo stress on a person?"

For a moment, Vaggie was losing patience. A dark corner of her mind humored impaling Baxter onto her spear.

'But that wouldn't prove a thing...' She reasoned mentally. Charlie would only be appalled by such an action, even if it was made with the excuse that Vaggie was acting for the good of the hotel. Squeezing her spare palm until it paled unhealthily, she gave an ultimatum.

"I swear, that if you do anything that jeopardizes this hotel and its safety, nothing will be able to stop me from impaling you. No excuses about your privacy will help. I will. Not. Tolerate you. In. This. Hotel. Understand?"

Baxter put up a brave face, likely not appreciating the threat leveled by the one eyed sinner. "Unequivocally..."

Vaggie stalked down the hallway. Even with her demand leveled, she would not leave anything up to chance. She returned downstairs to alert Charlie of what had happened.

Now left alone, Baxter slunk to the floor tiredly.

"Why do I keep doing this?" He asked to himself.

It was a vicious cycle that he had been through for decades.

He would begin his work to create a compound that would act as the ultimate weapon against the Exterminators. Then, during his experimental exploits, he would cause a great mess that would damage his abode. After that, he would be kicked out. Then he would wonder about Pentagram City looking for new quarters where he would start the process of collateral damage and eviction all over again.

Baxter had endured the harsh sting of failure before. However, science was more about discerning what did not work than what did work. Time and time again, he had eliminated one chemical concoction after another in the quest to create an 'Angel's bane.' No matter how many times his ideas ended up in literal smoke, he had continued on, certain that he was nominally closer to finding the right compounds and the right process to create a weapon of mass destruction that only harmed those who originated in Heaven.

"I have to succeed." Baxter swore, his voice sounding broken for the first time in decades. "I have to find a way to take it to those haloed abominations..."

He looked to the assembly of glass and chemical compounds on the nearby dresser, which he had roughly converted into a lab space. It was a bit of a hack job, and he room had started to feel stuffy from extended hours of being cramped up with no input from Niffty to clean the place up.

Yet it had to be worth it.

"I won't fail like I failed him..." Baxter said, his voice regretful, but resolute.

10:54 pm

Husk was struggling to sleep. As such, he believed that what he needed was a tall glass of ale to ease him into slumber. Trudging down the hall with heavy footsteps, he stopped in his tracks when he smelled a harsh odor. The offending smell practically burned in his nostrils, and he had to place one of his paws over his nose to stem the tear-inducing stench.

"The fuck- *cough cough* is that?" He questioned irritably. His acid yellow eyes fell on the door which led to Baxter's room. Then they shot upward as he saw another sinner hacking at the colorless gas that was streaming into the hallway.

"What is that *cough* smell?!" Jersey growled as he stumbled out of his room, dressed in a large t-shirt and sleep shorts.

"How should I fuckin' know?!" Husker replied gruffly.

Jersey's irritated green eyes opened in the gryphon demon's direction. "That you, Husk?"

"Yeah, I don't think this shit in the air is hallucinogenic..."

"What da fuck is going on out here?!" Stepping out was Angel Dust. Most of his lean frame was exposed, with his white bosom on full display. Dressed in nothing more than a red thong, he was met with the disgusted groans of the other male sinners in the hallway.

"Angel, put on some pants or something." Jersey ordered, averting his eyes from the spider demon's nearly naked form.

"Jeez, nice night to you too, bud. Besides, Husk ain't wearing anything." Angel pointed out.

Husk snarled in frustration at Angel's attempt to equivocate. "I got longer fur than you, ya horny dumbass! Hardly anything to imagine on me!"

"Ugh..." Angel stomped into his room and sloppily threw on a bathrobe. "Happy now, ya fuckin' prudes?"

It proved to be sufficient covering, and Jersey explained the situation. "There's a funky smell coming from Baxter's room. Smells almost like mustard gas, to me."

"How do you know what mustard gas smells like?" Angel asked pertinently. He had been born towards the end of the Great War, but had only seen the aftermath of the conflict on maimed and shell shocked veterans after the war ended.

"I fought in the Great War." Jersey explained. "They had mustard gas as a weapon in those days. Can't you smell it too?"

"I'm a spider, remember? We don't have a good sense of smell. It's only useful for snortin' dust these days."

Jersey rolled his eyes at the remark while Husk banged on the door.

"Hey you potion peddlin' pipsqueak!" He yelled. "What the fuck are you makin' in there?!"

There was no answer.

"Forget about it. We need to tell Charlie about this." Jersey suggested. "Knowing our luck, he could be making pesticides in there. That's not safe for any of us."

"Sounds like a plan." Angel remarked. "But uh... where's her room?"

The men in the hall realized none of them had a clue about where Charlie was staying. In the awkward silence that followed, Jersey formed a plan.

"Let's check out the rest of the hotel. If we split up, we can cover more ground. Angel, you can head down to the first floor and try to look for where Charlie's bedroom is. If she's still in her office, you can tell her the situation."

"Whatever you say." Angel agreed passively.

"Husk, you take the elevator up to the highest floor and start searching there. Make your way down back to this floor."

"Okay, and what are you gonna do?"

"I'm going to start checking up the floors. If I meet you halfway, I'll head back down with you."

"Maybe we oughta exchange numbah's." Angel suggested before leaving. "We can text each otha' if we find anything."

"That's not a bad idea." Jersey pulled out his phone and gave his number to Husk and Angel.

Husk, for his part, reluctantly agreed with a warning for Angel. "I swear, if you text me dick pics, I am gonna smash a bottle over your head and then shove the broken end up your ass."

"Gee, thanks for the kind word." Angel remarked sarcastically, a teasing grin following thereafter. "Although since you suggested it~"

A glare on two fronts from both Husk and Jersey made Angel behave.

The three male demons then departed, searching for Charlie to tell her about the harsh smelling gas on the first floor.

"Now can we talk about what we have been putting off regarding Baxter?" Vaggie had been anxious to tell Charlie about her suspicions for several hours. Beset with delays as a result of taxes that had to be filed out, Vaggie had to wait with fraying patience for an ideal time to explain her worries to Charlie. It had torn at her that while they delayed an honest conversation, Baxter could cause untold amounts of damage to the hotel.

Charlie, understanding Vaggie's concern, invited her to sit at her bedside to talk. "No need to get stressed, Vaggie. Let's go over what has you so concerned." She said calmly.

Vaggie, in a dark grey sleep shirt and shorts, let out a sigh as she composed her thoughts. "I think Baxter is up to something."

"Okay, Vaggie." Charlie said patiently. "What evidence to you have to prove Baxter is up to no good?"

Vaggie, currently digging through her dress earlier in the day, produced the glass shards from earlier. She gently dumped the sharp fragments into her girlfriend's hand. "Look at these pieces of glass. What do you see?"

When Charlie cupped the pieces cautiously. Initially, she had no clue of what Vaggie had given her. However, Charlie had spent centuries of her life being educated in all fields of knowledge in preparation to be Lucifer's heir to the throne. Some of the fragments before her had characteristics that were very distinct in shape. Like Vaggie hours ago, she too, could discern what the function of the assembly of glass shards was.

"It looks like pieces of a test tube."

"Exactly." Vaggie stated. "Husk saw him carrying a drawer full of glass things, and this dropped and broke in the lobby. When I confronted him about it, he made excuses. I think Baxter is doing chemistry experiments in this hotel, or barring that, he is gathering the resources to do so."

Charlie carefully considered the evidence put before her. Vaggie could be cautious to the point of outright paranoia, but even she never tried to fabricate lies just to remove a sinner from the hotel. Even when the Radio Demon himself showed up, Vaggie only stated the truth about his reputation. All the same, Charlie had to assess and eliminate all possible explanations for Baxter's apparent behavior.

"Have you seen him moving any chemicals into the hotel?"

Vaggie sighed, not quite expecting the cross examination. "No."

"And is there any other evidence against Baxter?"

"He won't let Niffty inside to clean out his room. That's very suspicious, if nothing else." Vaggie answered.

Charlie hummed, not wanting to think the absolute worst of the newest resident, but also aware of the circumstances around his presence at the hotel. She made a compromise.

"We'll keep an eye on him. Tomorrow, we'll firmly ask that he allow Niffty to do her job. If not, then we might need... Alastor to break the stalemate, as much as I hate to say it."

Vaggie shuddered at the suggestion. The Radio Demon's pure demonic power was more terrifying than any single horror she had witnessed in Hell. All the same, even the stubborn, solitary Baxter would find it hard to resist a proverbial arm twist from the creepy bastard.

"Are you sure about dragging Alastor into this?"

"Like I said, I hate to think about the possibility." Charlie reiterated with a sober look on her face. She then placed her hands placatingly on Vaggie's shoulders. "But I also place the safety of the hotel in high priority. I can't put the needs of the hotel after the whims of one new patron."

Vaggie gave a gentle grin, her heart somewhat at ease. "Good to see my paranoid self has rubbed off on you."

The two chuckled at the joke before a knock on Charlie's door interrupted the moment. The Princess steadily arrived at the door to find Husk looking on from the hallway with a serious glare on his face.

"Husk? What's going on?"

"Jersey and I smelled some kinda gas comin' from Baxter's room. We figured we oughta tell you. Smelled like mustard gas."

Vaggie leapt to her feet, her eye widening in alarm. "What!?" She instinctively marched herself over to her spear, which was propped against the wall closest to her side of the bed.

Charlie became alarmed, not only at the seriousness of Husk's blunt testimony, but also with the combative response of her girlfriend. She tried to step in to diffuse Vaggie's intense actions. "Vaggie, let's be calm about this!"

"I'm not letting the hotel potentially become a death trap under our noses! I'm busting in there, and if Baxter doesn't have a good explanation, I'm turning him into a fish kabob." Vaggie spat, gesturing to the weapon grasped firmly in her hands.

Husk swiftly stepped aside as Vaggie ran out the door and down the hall. She quickly entered the nearest elevator to take to the first floor. Charlie ran desperately after her, with Husk ambling behind, his paw quickly texting a message to Jersey and Angel.

"Uh oh..." Angel remarked as he glanced down at his Hellphone. It was a text message from Husk.

"Found Charlie. Vaggie's pissed. Running back to Baxter's room."

Angel stuffed the phone in one of his bathrobe's pockets and hastily made his way to the stairwell.

Jersey was making his way up to the third floor when he saw the text from Husk. His mind raced to making one of two choices. One: join Charlie to further explain the situation. Two: race back to Baxter's room to stop Vaggie from stabbing first and asking questions later. As alarming as the stench coming from Baxter's room was, none of them would know the facts of the matter if he wound up impaled and dead as a stuck pig from Vaggie's fury.

He turned back down the hall from whence he came, his legs making Olympian strides as he tried to intercept Vaggie's rage-driven trajectory towards Baxter's room.

In one of the rooms down the hall on the first floor, Niffty, who had been rudely interrupted from her usual nighttime routine, was starting to smell something that burned at her little sinuses.

"Jeez!" She cried out, her voice muffled as she tried to stem the smell with her little hands. "What is that?!"

Dashing to the door in a pink nightgown, she saw that there was no visual indicator for the smell. However, she did see Jersey racing around a corner in the direction of his room. The handyman's hectic running only added a sense of alarm to the confusion of the scene.

"Huh? Jersey?" She ran out of her room to investigate.

In Alastor's private study within the hotel, he was drinking a fine glass of bourbon. He had a rather unorthodox sleep schedule, but this was hardly an inconvenience. The nightlife was just as entertaining as the daytime. Furthermore, some raw instinct of his alerted him to a general sense that chaos was about to erupt within the hotel again.

It had been subtle: some tension between little Niffty and Baxter over her impeccable and obsessive eye for cleanliness. Then he had heard from Husk about an incident involving glass trinkets that did not necessarily belong in a hotel. Apparently, Vaggie had become especially concerned with this development.

Anything that might irritate or provoke the hotel's resident firecracker was surely something to look into.

Indeed, Baxter was just like any other sinner who did not announce themselves openly. He had his own ideas that had little to do with redemption, as expected. However, the insistence on enjoying a solitary existence was an obvious giveaway that the lure-headed scientist was up to something.

This night, his connection to Baron Samedi, among others, communicated to him that something quite disruptive was about to happen. As an entertainer, he would be second rate if he could not get some kind of first hand account of any mayhem that was about to erupt.

He snapped his fingers, and one of his shadow minions manifested like a serpent of shadows on the floor of the room. It peered up with piercing blue eyes and a stitched up, doll-like face.

"I've got a wonderful feeling that we're about to have some fireworks tonight. Specifically with the resident scientist, my little friend. Find out what is going on at his abode on the first floor." Alastor ordered with a candid tone.

The shadow nod its master farewell with an indiscernible hiss, then slipped out under the crack of Alastor's door.

The Radio Demon dipped his drink once more, his undead heart brimming with excitement.

"Good." He observed. "I thought things were getting too stable and peppy around here. Hmm hmm hmm..."

Vaggie was prepared to march straight at Baxter's door, and level her ultimatum: open up the door, or prepare to become a pincushion. She could explain herself to Charlie, should the worst case scenario happen, after the fact. The safety of the hotel came first, and woe to anyone who even remotely threatened it.

When she stepped out of the elevator with a fire in her eyes, she was surprised to see Jersey standing between her and the door where Baxter was housed. Behind her, an equally irritated Niffty was sprinting up behind him. Indeed, upon entering the hall, Vaggie began to hack and cough violently at the smell permitting through the hall. It was unlike anything she had ever smelled before, and water welled up in her one good eye as she staggered into the hall.

Although her anger was stemmed by her inconvenienced state, her will was still resolute.

"Jersey," Vaggie coughed at him through her palm, "get out of my way."

Jersey, holding his nose and clearly in an irritated state, was not moved by Vaggie or her lethal armament. "I know what you're thinking Vaggie. I think you should calm down and wait for Charlotte to get here." He suggested with a funny tone.

Vaggie was quickly losing patience. "You, *cough* *cough* *cough* want me to calm down with that mad scientist cooking up who knows what?! You're smelling this gas as well as I, *cough* and we can't let this continue!"

"I know!" Jersey explained. "But surely we can do this without threatening him!"

Just then, Angel arrived.

"Whoa there chica!" He called, backing away from her spear. Angel remembered all too well her skill with throwing a single knife. Needless to say, he didn't want to provoke a demonstration of her spear techniques. "Let's just think about it for a sec."

"Ugh, not you too." Vaggie groaned. "Get out of my way! You don't *cough* want to defend that lonesome bastard!"

"Look, this dorky prick probably needs an ass kickin' for interruptin' my beauty sleep." Angel conceded with two thumbs pointed towards Baxter's room. "But ain't it like, a sin ta kill some poor fucker, especially in a hotel for 'redemption?'"

Vaggie, still irritated by the gas, allowed herself to mentally commend Angel, however briefly, for being the reasonable one in this situation. "Didn't think you'd be the one to talk me out of doing something." She replied in as coy a tone as she could while controlling her anger and holding her breath with a spare hand.

Angel suddenly looked embarrassed for sounding like a mediator rather than a literal hell-raiser. He shrugged and crossed his arms, averting his heterochromic gaze. "Well, I guess I learned somethin' from this dump." He excused with exaggerated indifference.

Finally, Charlie came down, followed by Husk, who was already covering his mouth and nose in preparation for the exposure to the harsh smelling odor in the hallway. Charlie was not nearly so prepared.

"Vag- *cough* *cough* *cough* -gie." She struggled to say. "Don't do *cough* *cough* anything you might regret! *cough* what is that smell?!"

"Now do ya understand the goddamn situation?" Husk asked, raising his voice for the first time that evening.

"Charlie, we don't have have any time to waste! *cough* Baxter is in there doing who knows what, and we're out her wringing our hands about how harshly we should deal with him!" Vaggie argued.

"I understand, Vaggie." Charlie insisted. "We can still have the wherewithal to stop him without seriously hurting him. Let's just get in there and try to convince Baxter to stop. We'll question him later and punish him if necessary."

Vaggie growled in frustration. "Fine!"

Initially, she slammed a fist onto the door, demanding that Baxter reveal himself. Predictably, he did not answer.

"Hold on." Charlie produced her skeleton key and unlocked the main door, only to find that the door still did not budge. Vaggie was becoming apoplectic.

"Move!" Jersey cried, stepping forth right in front of Baxter's door. With a mighty kick, the door was smashed open. A chair that was used to help keep the door shut was launched a few feet away, and the steel latch used as a second lock was violently broken. With the room fully open, the smell in the hallway became even more intense.

Vaggie promptly moved to enter the domicile, and her eyes fell on where Baxter was.

On the dresser just feet away from the foot of his bed, it had been converted into a makeshift chemistry table. Various glass implements were scattered throughout the dresser, some of which held liquids with distinct, vibrant colors. One such glass container was an Erlenmeyer flask with a dark red substance was being tipped over a wide beaker that was half full with a clear liquid.

Baxter, who's head had jerked in the direction of his breached doorway, looked like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The prominent lure protruding from his head was glowing brightly and consistently, acting as the only light source in the whole room. The bright yellow bioluminescence was casting long shadows throughout the room, with Baxter's lab coat making the largest shadow of all.

Charlie had peaked her head to better see what was going on, and a look of disappointment fell on her face.

"Baxter... why?"

He could not answer. A tiny drop of red liquid dripped from the flask in his hand into the beaker beneath it. When it made contact, a bright flash outshone even Baxter's lure.

Then all hell broke loose.