Soldier of Hellish Fortune

Chapter 2: Investments in Entertainment

Chapter 2: Investments in Entertainment

The limousine trip back to the Happy Hotel had been mostly quiet. After they'd managed to get to Charlie's ride and drove through what seemed to be half of the west town area, she and Vaggie finally found Angel Dust wandering through the streets. He'd gotten into the limo with little complaint, but he didn't seem interested in hearing anything from his two hosts; not that Charlie was in much of a mood to talk at the moment.

This led to the present time. Their driver continued the route back to the hotel while the other four occupants remained mostly silent as they'd been before. Charlie hugged her knees and sighed in sadness over the shitshow that had been her interview, her focus occasionally swapping between the passing outside and their new armored arrival. Vaggie sat next to her with her glare aimed entirely at Angel, eye occasionally twitching in fury.

Angel—more or less ignorant of the attention—was busy entertaining himself with the divider window roller, raising and lowering it repeatedly. He kept this up for a while before he finally acknowledged the death stare being sent his way and looked at Vaggie. Seeing her scrunch up her face in disgust at his actions, he simply asked, "What?"

"'What'?" Vaggie repeated incredulously. "'What'?! What were you doing?!" She failed to notice (or care) that she ripped a few strands of hair from her head in anger.

Angel sighed. "I owed my girl buddy a solid! Isn't that a 'redeeming quality'?" he asked with air quotes as he rolled his eyes. "Helping friends with stuff?"

"Not with turf wars that result in territorial genocide!" Vaggie loudly clarified.

Angel Dust gestured with his fingers as he said, "Eh, you win some, you lose a few hundred." He laughed a bit before inhaling. "It wasn't that bad, anyway."

His return to messing with the window roller was immediately stopped when Vaggie threw a small knife with pinpoint accuracy at it. Angel actually pressed himself against his seat when he saw how close it came to hitting his finger. Looking at her, he wasn't amused with her growl and narrowing eye indicating that she wasn't done with this conversation yet.

"Aw, come on! I had to!" Angel said as he brushed his hair back with his hand. "My credibility was on the line! I mean, what kinda reputation would I have if people found out I was tryna go clean? It just throws out my entire persona!" He pushed up his breast-like chest fluff suggestively while giving the new guy a little side eye, but Angel frowned a bit when he saw him paying no mind to the spider demon.

Naturally, Angel's defense didn't work with Vaggie. "Your credibility? What about the hotel's?!" she pointed out as she gestured to Charlie and herself. "Your little stunt made us look like a fucking joke!"

Angel scoffed. "No, no, no, babe. Jokes are funny!" he corrected her. "I made you look... uh, sad! And pathetic! Like an orphan... with no arms... or legs... Oh! With progeria!" he said, not noticing Charlie looking worse and worse with each additional descriptor. He then admitted that he was now bummed thinking about the metaphorical orphan and started poking around the limo in search of liquor.

"Can you please just try and take this seriously?!" Vaggie asked at her wits' end.

Finding and tossing aside an old, empty bottle, Angel only found a dust bunny alongside it. He flicked it away while half-heartedly saying, "Fine, I'll try. Just, don't get your taco in a twist, baby!"

Her mouth slightly opening at the racial remark, Vaggie immediately stood up as straight as she could in the cramped environment with her fists clenched. "Was that you trying to be sexist or racist?!" she demanded. Only receiving an answer of "Whichever pisses you off more," from the demonic porn star before he went back to looking for booze, Vaggie simply sat back down with her arms crossed. "I'm gonna kill 'im," she stated to the back of the limo.