"Fizz? Are you ready?" Ozzie called from inside the club.
Shoving the ring into his pocket, Fizz called back, "Yeah, I'm ready. I just had to grab one last thing!"
Rushing back inside, he quickly met Ozzie on the stage. "I'm having Blitz open the doors in a few minutes. Before he does that, are you sure you're ready for this?"
Fizz rolled his eyes. "Quit your worrying, I'm ready. It's the grand re-opening of Ozzie's Club!" Silently, he added, "I have to be ready."
People burst through the doors, hellhounds and imps alike, eagerly awaiting the show.
Fizz stepped onto the flashing stage, his hoarse voice reverberating throughout the room.
"Lady and gentle imps, welcome to the grand re-opening of Ozzie's Club!" He leaned against the pole, putting on his best show-smile.
He paused, waiting for the applause to die down. "And now... the one and only...Asmodeous!" Fizz sprung off of the pole, doing handsprings and cartwheels.
He went behind the curtain for a moment before turning on the fog machine. It crept beneath the curtains, and finally, Ozzie stepped out, looking regal as ever.
His winning smile, the way his eyes glowed... Oh, how so much Fizz loved him.
But Fizz didn't want Ozzie for his looks or for his status. He loved the way his eyes lit up every time he saw Fizz.
Like he was the only whole and true thing in the world. But Fizz was not whole. His horns were broken, covered by the fake ones. His limbs still needed repairs a lot.
And he still couldn't stop thinking about that nightmare that wad Mammon.
He shuddered, his smile fading for a moment. Ozzie gave him a concerned look with slightly raised eyebrows.
Fizz gave him a thumbs up as Ozzie began his now-trademark song, The House of Asmodeous.
He did his usual tricks, swinging from the ceiling, wrapping up Ozzie's legs--maybe adding a few un-needed touches.
Towards the end of the show, Fizz stood in front of Ozzie. Fumbling inside of his pocket, he reached down, pulled out a box and...
The lights went out. Glass was shattered, and screams were heard.
Fizz was grabbed by the collar swiftly, and felt himself being tugged somewhere. He kicked and fought, expanding his arms to reach around his opponents neck.
With a guttural choking sound, whatever/whoever was holding him dropped to the ground. Eventually, the lights flickered back on.
Ozzie was gone, and the only thing left was a shred of his suit
