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Chapter 60 - The Diner (2)

These EOMM demons are killing me man, yesterday I played a game on Marvel Rivals and when the other team got the point to about 70-75% while we had it at 99% in the second round (The second round of the game that WE WON IN THE FIRST!) one of our Loki went to BP… THE OTHER TEAM HAD NAMOR, THE THING AND MR FANTASTIC!!!! And then one of our tanks went FUCKING BUCKY BARNES INSTEAD OF SWITCHING TO STRANGE SO WE COULD PORTAL!! AND THEN THEY REFUSED TO SWITCH OFF OF THEM! I'm really about to just stop playing ts bro.

– ? ? ? 1 Day Before Diner –

"Damnit Alastor, can you stop acting so mysterious and shit and tell me why the hell we're here?" 

In an empty white chrome painted factory, two sinners were walking through, unbothered. One was a familiar TV head, Vox. The other was the radio demon, Alastor.

Both of them seemed very disheveled, Vox's face having a small crack in the corner of the screen and his usual blue tidy suit was covered in dirt and scratches, very befitting of an overlord like himself, especially one that values his image more than his own family, but for now, none of that matters to him.

On the other hand, Alastor was looking quite a bit worse, his suit was heavily damaged with long gashes in the suit being prevalent and what seemed to be whiplashes on his skin that was covered up by heavy make-up. Even his smile that he treasured was ruined with dried blood from his gums staining his yellow teeth.

"Well, I would, if you would be quiet for a moment, Vox." Alastor seethed out, gritting his teeth as he gripped his cane in frustration. He looked around the factory, looking as if he was trying to see through the walls before his eyes upturned a bit. "There." He said before walking over to what seemed to be a random wall and placing his hand on it.

"...Alastor, I knew you were crazy but what the fuck are you doing?" Vox asked which Alastor answered with a forceful shush, looking around rapidly before confirming nobody heard them. He then started to press the wall in a seemingly random rhythm.

"Did I ever tell you who my mistress was, Vox?" Alastor asked, refusing to face Vox while asking his question, instead simply focusing on the wall in front of him. "I met her when I was still alive. I was simply walking home after a day of schooling when I was a wee lad when I saw her–"

His voice quickly began to take on a reverent tone, almost worshipping. "Her Ruby eyes, her fair white skin, her–" Almost just as fast as his voice started to worship his own arm came down on himself, grabbing his whipped skin and grabbing tightly down, the pain quickly putting him back into a sober state.

"She was the one who gave me my power, Vox, she's the reason how I rose so quickly through the echelons of Hell, and I have a feeling she's purposefully sent me on those missions against… HIM."

He bit his lip so hard it bled. "I previously believed that James fellow was the one to direct all of my hatred against, but I've only recently come to the conclusion of one simple thing: The one whom I should truly despise is her." Alastor soon stopped touching the wall, balling his hand into a fist. "But I can't do anything about it."

The wall slowly started to open, brick by brick getting moved out of the way until a small doorway was made that Alastor quickly walked through with Vox following shortly behind. "If you can't do anything about her, then why the hell are we even here?" Vox questioned.

Alastor said nothing, simply walking until they reached a new room.

The room was a spacious purple room, full of jagged rocks scattered on the ground with all of them seemingly slightly warping to the single item in the room:

A black vial

Alastor slowly walked towards the vial, his steps gentle as if he was trying not to wake a slumbering beat under him. His hands slowly wrapped around the vial and pulled it, his action making the room begin the drain of its purple tint and turn into cold grey.

"My mistress is the eighth sin, Desire–" He said, holding the liquid up. "This vile is full of her essence, granting whoever drinks it an ability integral to their nature, and with every life they take, the more their desire grows in relation to how strong the life they took was."

Alastor looked back at Vox, his smile fully widening. "Now tell me, my dear Vox, who is the strongest person who's humiliated us?"

Alastor didn't wait for Vox to speak, walking up to him and clasping the vial into his hands.

"The only way to kill a god would be to sacrifice a mortal."

– The Diner –

"Okay guys, would you rather be Hitler at the tail-end of World War 2 or a hobo that has a 0.5% chance of getting adopted by a billionaire?" James asked.

"...Like, how far into World War 2?" Vaggie also asked leaning in while deep in thought.

"Suuuuper deep, a whole lot of jews dead already." James answered

"If I'm the hobo, could I just kill any other hobo to increase my odds?" Nifty chimed in.

"You're a hobo, do whatever you want." James answered, patting her on the head.

"As Hitler, would I be able to just stop doing all the jew-killing stuff?" Charlie spoke up with a nervous grin.

"I mean you could, but again, a whole bunch of jews already dead and a whole bunch of anti-jew laws have already instated."

"...Would there be any way for me to be looked upon more favorably?"

"Y'know, Vaggie, it's really telling about you and Charlie's character seeing how you're trying to make Hitler work so badly." James snarks.

"Hey, dick, you're the one who asked the question!" Vaggie snapped back, yet before the two could devolve into a full fledged argument, Angel Dust quickly spoke up.

"Uhhh, guys, who's Hitler?"

"..."

"..."

The whole table slowly turned their heads to Angel Dust, all of their faces scrunched in disbelief.

"What, am I supposed to know this guy or something?"

"Angel, you're telling me… You don't know who Hitler is?" Vaggie slowly asked with a single eyebrow raised. "When the hell did you even die?"

"1935."

COUGH COUGH

"Damn, you're as old as the dinosaurs."

COUGH COUGH

Angel Dust slowly creaked his neck over at James, a vein pulsating out of his head and a forced smile painted on. "I'm sorry, Darkseid do you wanna repeat that?"

James raised his hands in a placating motion. "Hey, don't get mad at me old man. All I'm saying is that you're about 10 years older than the microwave."

Angel Dust slams a hand onto the table. "I'll have you know I look fucking exceptional for my age!"

"Woah, I never said you didn't, it's just that you gotta know that you're one wrong step away from breaking a hip." James said, a smug grin on his face.

"Oh yeah? Well…" Angel Dust trails off as he tries to think of a comeback. "W-what about Nifty, she was born in like the 50's!"

Nifty strangely enough didn't say anything, simply looking down, James swearing he could even see her shaking a bit. He reached his arm out (keenly picking up on how her shaking got a little worse as his hand approached) and pat her on the head, hugging her into his stomach.

"Oh please, I'm not afraid of no MILF pussy! I don't think I'm legally allowed within 100 feet of a retirement home." He said, reaching down and flicking a bang off of Nifty's eye revealing her staring right at him.

She slowly gained a bright black blush and quickly turned around, her hands covering her face with what James could swear was steam coming out of her ears..

"Besides, if we're talking about age, Charlie's the oldest one here." Angel Dust said, throwing a thumb up at Charlie.

But before the table could descend into argument… Again, Moxie came back in a nervous sweat, holding up a large vanilla milkshake. "H-h-here's you 'shake, sir. Would you guys like to order now?"

"Thank god." James said, grabbing his shake and taking a long sip with a smile. "I would like to have a plate of hashbrowns, pancakes, some bacon and some eggs, preferably sunny-side up."

"James, you fat fuck." Vaggie said flatly.

"Vaggie, all due respect, when you lose the pool stick in your ass, ramming against your prostate and absorbing all of your nutrients like perfect Cell, maybe you could speak on my diet."

"James!" Charlie admonished.

James sighed and started to talk in a fake sugary tone. "I'm so sowwy my whittle Vaggie Waggy-kins. Can you tell the man what you want to owder nyeow?"

"... I'll kill myself if you talk like that again, James." Vaggie reacted with a horrified look on her face. "Besides, I don't need to eat."

"Well in that case-" Angel Dust started, "I'll have a nice long, hard and thick hunk of medium rare steak on a plate that I can just gobble down."

"Can you order like a normal damn person?" Vaggie asked Angel Dust.

"What? When you're in the mood for meat, you gotta chow down." He replied, biting his bottom lip while looking up, seeming to be remembering something.

"Ummm, excuse me." Charlie said, tapping Moxxie's arm. "I would like to order a serving of the Strawberry Shortcake."

"S-sure, how many slices?"

"All of them, I want the whole cake."

"...Okay."

Nifty simply raised a single hand. "... Some Onigiri please."

Soon it was Amery's turn to order, her blank face creeping Moxxie out even more. "I would like to order some mac-and-cheese."

"...Okay." And so Moxxie decided to walk away before his heart burst out of his chest in nervousness.

"Excuse me everyone, I have to go to the ladie's room." Charlie said, scooting past everyone and getting up, being followed by two other women going to the bathroom at the same time.

Only a few minutes passed since Charlie left for the bathroom, but James felt a twisting in his gut, like something was going to happen at any time now. He looked around the diner, scanning everyone there, just waiting for the other shoe to drop until the doors opened, revealing a man Jaames and Angel Dust knew all too well.

Valentino.

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