Last Updated: 2025 Dec 29

Media Control

I wonder what short-sighted plan that ridiculous girl and that infantile angel will come up with next.

A camera drone midflight was slapped by a shadowy tentacle.

Whatever consequences come of it, it’s nothing I can’t handle.

Alastor gazed directly into the lens of another camera drone and caused it to short circuit.

Isn’t it great to let off steam! I haven’t been able to channel this much power since my staff broke.

Alastor twirled his repaired microphone staff.

But there seems to be more of them around today.

Alastor tossed another broken camera drone into the pile.

These flies are truly attracted to a special piece of shit.

Vox…

Alastor saw a crowd of reporters approaching the front of the hotel and made his way to intercept them. Standing before them, they waved their microphones clamouring for his attention in brief chants.

“Mr. Alastor!”

“Mr. Radio Demon!”

“Mr. Hotelier, sir!”

His pause cued the first reporters to ask their questions.

“Mr. Alastor, does the Hazbin Hotel have any comments on the whereabouts of Vox, former CEO of VoxTek Entertainment?”

“Mr. Radio Demon, is it true you broadcasted Vox’s screams on that old crap no one listens to anymore?”

“And should I KILL MY WIFE?!”

These fools were just pretending Vox didn’t exist the day after his stunt, and now instead of cowering in fear, they’re asking me about him.

No matter. Give them a satisfying answer before they realize their devices aren’t working.

Alastor addressed the crowd.

“I’m afraid despite our brand name we have no information on where Vox could be. Additionally, our lobby is currently reserved for guests and employees only.

“For more information about the hotel, direct yourselves to the press release kit on our new website at hazbinhotel.com.”

Alastor entered the hotel and locked it behind him. He kept his back at the door until the rabble died down.

“A word about that if you will, sir,” Baxter approached Alastor with his laptop.

“Yes, what is it?”

“The ‘new hire’ seems to have published this onto our site.”

:view-source

<p>Key features of the Hazbin Hotel</p>
<ul>
<li>Coordination and direct communication with Heaven</li>
<li>Custom rooms for guests</li>
<li>Free-of-charge stays</li>
<li>Organic, locally sourced dining options</li>
<li>Guest education programs and therapy sessions</li>
</ul>
<hr />
<h3 id="about-hazbin-hotel">About the Hazbin Hotel</h3>
<p>Located in the Pride Ring, the Hazbin Hotel offers custom rooms and
award-winning dining. The hotel is dedicated to hospitality and
redemption that enrich guest experiences.</p>
<hr />

<!-- 

VALENTINO, VELVETTE, EXPLAIN YOURSELVES.

    - Vox

-->

<h3 id="media-contact">Media Contact</h3>
<p><strong>Charlie Morningstar</strong><br />
Communications Director<br />
Hazbin Hotel<br />
Email: media@hazbinhotel.com</p>
<hr />
<p><em>This press release may contain forward-looking statements subject
to risks and uncertainties. Actual results may vary.</em></p>

“Oh, no one is going to read that,” Alastor said nonchalantly.

I ought to reprimand him.

---

“SEND MORE REPORTERS AROUND TOWN! THEY’LL EVENTUALLY FIND SOMETHING!” Velvette shouted to a subordinate. “YES, EVEN THE INTERNS!

“How did we even lose a ‘Vox’ to begin with!” she ranted to Valentino.

“I know! I wanted to at least try hatefucking his headless body while he watches from the cuck chair.”

Velvette rolled her eyes, “Let’s not go into that.”

Valentino was still irritated from the subsatisfactory service.

“Our clean up crew from the event somehow didn’t pick up the body, not like he can’t get another one later, but he should be in this tower.”

Valentino retraced his steps: Vox lost his fucking mind. A cannon of angelic power several scales worse than a nuclear weapon from Earth was overloading, and time running out. Valentino had to get Vox, Velvette, and himself out of the area. He could carry Velvette but wouldn’t be able to lift with Vox’s full body weight.

So he did what he had to.

A quick kiss. Maybe Vox would snap out of it.

A boot to Vox’s chest, and Vox’s head torn off.

“We’re leaving!” Valentino had said before realizing one of his wings was too tattered for flight.

In the absolute last moment, the princess of Hell and an angel from Heaven defused the weapon with the help of the overlords of Hell. After all that, Vox could only ask about his plummeting approval rating.

“I’m still pissed at him,” Valentino seethed. “Fucking dickless…” cunt? He doesn’t have one. Asshole? Doesn’t have one either now. “DICKLESS ‘NEITHER’!

“Now, I have to be CEO, and I can’t focus on making films…”

The fine print is killing me. “…Why is it me and not you anyway?”

“DO YOU THINK I WANT TO DO THIS PAPER SHIT ANY MORE THAN YOU DO?!” Velvette slapped the stack of papers out of Valentino’s hands.

“Ethan! ETHAN! Pick all this shit back up!” she called the assistant and pointed to the floor now coated with scattered papers.

“Y-yes, ma’am,” he ran in and promptly picked up every sheet of paper and handed them to Velvette.

Velvette noticed the title on the first page in the stack:

CONFIDENTIAL: ENTERPRISE NETWORK ARCHITECTURE DESIGN DOCUMENT

“What’s this?” she asked.

Ethan jumped.

“Sorry, ma’am that wasn’t on the ground. I came to deliver it to the Chief of Network Engineering.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right up Voxie’s alley, (I think?),” Valentino said, “I’ll go down there and fill in for him.”

For a period of time, the Radio Demon Alastor was captive at V Tower. Valentino and Velvette wouldn’t hear the end of Alastor taunting Vox:

“You’d be nothing without those two!”

“Compared to your friends and their far more impressive contributions, what do you really do?”

It was getting to Vox, and maybe there was a truth to what Alastor was saying. Vox’s job can’t be that hard, right?

Valentino descended on the platform elevator to Vox’s control room. A desk curved 180 degrees around a single chair, and the workstation was connected to an array of mounted monitors of different sizes. The room carried an everpresent ambient hum of the mainframe.

“Uh. Yeah…

“I know exactly what to do with this.”

…

Valentino later saw the terminal received a video call from Vox. Vox didn’t expect anyone to be seated there.

“What the— Val?”

Vox also saw what was playing on the screens in the background. Multiple screens and workspaces, and Valentino was using them for just one thing.

“Wait. Are you in my room watching porn?!”

Vox’s freaky left eye started acting up.

“VALENTINO, MY MULTI-MONITOR SET UP IS NOT MEANT FOR WATCHING FUCKING PORN! It’s the infrastructural backbone of the company!

“I didn’t build all that just so it gets owned by malware from a FUCKING PORN TORRENT!”

Valentino’s hand ascended from below the desk and rested on the keyboard.

“Hey! Voxie! Babe! Slow down.

“Step 1: Where’ve you been? You even have your body…?”

The video call was occupied by Vox’s face.

“Do you mind fucking explaining how I ended up in a cardboard box and got sent to the—–”

CONNECTION ERROR

“Um. This should be like… the part where I backtrace his location but I don’t know how to do that,” Valentino said.

Vox saw the boxxy plug of an ethernet cable dangle before his eyes. Alastor had pulled the cable.

---

Charlie walked with Vaggi towards the hotel’s new IT department.

“Sooo when we have our own website, we have our own platform! We won’t need to go to the media for publicity on the cool things we’re doing.

“It’s going to be our videos, our edits, our words, not theirs!”

“Babe,” Vaggi cautioned. “Don’t you think its a huge mistake to have Vox publish us again by making the site?”

“It’s different this time! Baxter and Alastor said they’ll double check his work for any funny business!”

“Alastor? How is he going to help?” How is a demon from 1920 that refuses to use modern technology going to help?!

Charlie and Vaggi walked in to find Vox was decapitated again. Both his head and his body laid on the floor by Alastor’s feet. Alastor had a shameless smile that could only be seen as triumphant.

“V-Vox?! No!” Charlie cried. “Alastor! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”

“Don’t worry, Charlie,” Alastor casually reassured her. “He isn’t hurt. I’m sure you’ll find it’s only one of his psychotic habits!”

“Vaggi… this looks really bad,” Charlie sobbed. “What do we do?!”

She saw the look of (t)error on Vox’s face as he laid unresponsive.

[    0.000000] Kernel panic - not syncing: Fatal exception in interrupt
[    0.000001] CPU: 0 PID: 0 Comm: swapper/0 Not tainted 5.4.0-42 #66-Vox
[    0.000002] Hardware name: Motherboard/VX-195, BIOS 1.70.11
[    0.000003] Call Trace:
[    0.000004]  dump_stack+0x63/0x8b
[    0.000005]  panic+0x101/0x2e0
[    0.000006]  oops_end+0x4c/0x60
[    0.000007]  __do_page_fault+0x2f0/0x4f0
[    0.000008]  do_page_fault+0x2e/0xe0
[    0.000009]  page_fault+0x28/0x30
[    0.000010] RIP: 0010:0x29c34aff
[    0.000011] Code: Bad RIP value
[    0.000012] Fuck Alastor. Seriously.
[    0.000013] RSP: ffffbf7f8a7fffc0 EFLAGS: 00010246
[    0.000014] RAX: 0000000000000000 RBX: ffff9c3a9a7b0000 RCX: 0000000000000001
[    0.000015] RDX: 0000000000000002 RSI: 0000000000000003 RDI: ffff9c3a9a7b0000
[    0.000016] RBP: ffffbf7f8a7fff80 R08: 0000000000000000 R09: 0000000000000000
[    0.000017] R10: 0000000000000000 R11: 0000000000000000 R12: 0000000000000000
[    0.000018] R13: 0000000000000000 R14: 0000000000000000 R15: 0000000000000000
[    0.000019] FS:  00007f8a7f5b7000(0000) GS:ffff9c3a9a800000(0000) knlGS:0000000000000000
[    0.000020] CR0: 0000000080050033 CR2: 0000000000000000 CR3: 00000000f8a7f000 CR4: 00000000003606e0
[    0.000021] ---[ end trace 123456789abcdef0 ]---
[    0.000022] Kernel Offset: 0x20000000 from 0xffffffff81000000
[    0.000023] ---[ end Kernel panic - not syncing: Fatal exception in interrupt ]---

Vaggi wasn’t sure of what anything meant.

“Uh… Shit. Maybe we can plug him back in and restart him?”