(Hazbin Hotel) Book 2: The Radio Family, Welcome to Hell!

Chapter 341: A stormy evening at the Tavern Inn

Thresh Unbound a Night at the Inn: League of Legends

The cinematic that heavily inspired this chapter and the next chapter after this one!
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The skies of Hell are stormy and wild with acid rains and lightning.

Within the tavern inn...

"Morty!" A loud, short, barrel bellied, quadruple chinned demon in a tailored suit sneered in distain as he gestured towards his snickering patrons. "Get The Food Out You Lazy Scum!"

"R-Right Away Sir!"

Fifteen tables all seating up to six, plus a long bar of drunken customers...and only one waiter.

The Imp who's name was actually Moriarty and not Morty fumbled around the tavern carrying heavy trays of food.

Sadly it seems like no one in the tavern was actually hungry...

Why you may ask? Well it's pretty obvious to anyone with eyes that the patrons were more preoccupied with making Moriarty's life a living Hell (pun intended). They were constantly tripping and shoving poor Moriarty around for fun.

Actions that ultimately lead to half of the food spilling onto the floor before he even reaches the correct table.

Moriarty however, took it all with the meekly voiced politeness of a gentleman. But even that's shrouded underneath his serious lack of confidence and self esteem.

"Whoops! Pardon me."

He moved around a propped foot and stumbled when the demon moved their foot to hook his leg so he tripped, spilling a beer he was about to serve to a demoness which "ruined" the bottom edges of her dress. "Grah! My dress!"

"O-Oh no! I'm so sorry bout that Ms..." Moriarty fumbled for the napkins while still balancing a tray.

"Here ya go Ms. Again so sorry bout that. Been plagued by a case of the ol' clumsy's I'm afraid. D-Don't worry I'll get ya a-another beer..."

The demoness angrily grabbed the napkins out of his hand. "Grah! Forget the beer you ugly 🤬 animal! Just get away from me!"

Her date drunkenly stood up and roughly shoved Moriarty. "You heard her! Get moving you ugly bastard you're blocking my view of her sexy breasts!"

Moriarty stumbled and the tray of food crashed onto the floor.

*CRASH!*

The fat quadruple chinned manager shouted from the other end of the tavern. "Morty You Clumsy Baffoon! Clean That Up At Once You Swine!"

"Ah—Y-Yes Sir. R-Right away Sir."

The smug laughter of the patrons as he fumbled with his words while grabbing a broom and rags was grating on the nerves of a solitary figure seated in the farthest corner of the room.

It's a table seated solely for one person, perfectly positioned in front of a window with a prime view of the bustling establishment.

A secluded little table hidden from any prying eyes by the limited lighting, with a coat closet on the left, and a large support pillar on the right.

The lone figure watched this all unfold with a sneer of distain.

After cleaning up the mess Moriarty noticed the lone figure watching him with keen empathic eyes and a scowling sneer towards everyone else. It was those split second glances of empathy from this lone figure that had Moriarty deciding to go against his job and provide the stranger with a free meal.