Charlie

7

//my WiFi is on crack and it messed with the font and I'm too lazy to fix it. Sorry for the inconveniences.//

Charlie's P.O.V.

Tuesday came all too quickly, and in no time at all we were driving in a limousine down to the news station.

I was silent the whole time, reciting my lines over and over so I wouldn't forget anything vital. I couldn't mess up.

Nothing would go wrong. Right?

When I felt the limo stop, I felt panicked. But then Vaggie smiled at me, so I put on my brave face and decided to tough it out.
We walked in quietly, shutting the door as noiselessly as possible, since there was another interview going on at the moment. We slipped over to the break room section to wait for our turn. There was a box of donuts and some fresh coffee on the table, but I still couldn't handle eating anything. I felt like my stomach had clenched into a fist.

When I heard the beep that signified the next break, I felt terrified. What if I was about to make a fool of myself? What if no one supported my cause? What if the made fun of me on live television? What if-"

"Charlie?"

"What?" I squeaked.

"Are you okay? You look like you're going to be sick."

"I'll be fine," I said.

Vaggie reached forward and fixed the bow on my shirt.
"Okay. Do you remember what to say?"

I took a deep breath. "Yes! Let's do this."
She grabbed my shoulder.

"Just look at me, and I'll mouth it to you."

I sighed, throwing my head back.
"Come on, Vaggie, I know what to say! I just feel like we need to, I don't know, make things sound more exciting! Oooh," I squealed suddenly, darting over to her.
"What if I sing-"
"Sing a song about it?"
"You knew I was gonna say that," I said, smiling.
"Yes, because I know you. But please, don't sing. This is serious."

"Well, you know," I said, climbing up onto the work table and stretching out my arms, "I'm better at expressing myself and my goals through songs!"

"Yes," Vaggie said. "But life isn't a musical, hon."

"Fine," I said, but then snatched a piece of paper from my back pocket where I had made an illustration of what I hoped the hotel could really accomplish.
"But I have these other ideas of what to say," I said while offering her the paper. "The highlited bits are the best part," I said, bouncing in place excitedly.

"Uh, its all highlighted," Vaggie said after a quick examination. "Is this a drawing?"

"Yes! That's the happy ending, see? Everyone's smiling and happy in heaven-"

Vaggie facepalms.
"I don't think it's that simple. Just please follow the talking points we went over. And do NOT sing.

"Okay, fineeee. I'll just have to resort to my impeccable improve skills." I saluted Vaggie and then walked towards the newscast woman standing by the set.

"Hi! I'm Charlie," I said to her, offering my hand for a shake. She simply gave me a death glare.

"Katie Killjoy," she said, crushing her cigarette and blowing it out.
She then flicked it away and then turned back to me, smirking.
"I'd say it was a pleasure to meet you, but that would be a lie.You can put that away," she said, motioning to my outstretched palm. "I don't touch the gays. I have standards," she said, leaning up into my face.

"Yeah?" I said weakly. "How's that...... How's that working out for ya?"

"Look," she said, " My time is money, so I'll keep this short. You're not here because we wanted you here; you're here because Jeffery couldn't make it for his cannibal cooking segment. You might be some Royal big shot, but that doesn't mean shit to me. I'm too rich and too influential to give a flying fuck about what some tuxedo-wearing demon princess wants to advertise."
I could visiblely see Tom shaking his head at her behind her back.

"But, I-"

She interrupted my protests.
"So don't get cute with me, honey, or I will fucking bury you."

"And we're live!" The cameraman shouted.
Katie lept forward into her chair, her neck cracking right in the process.
"And, we're back," she said sweetly to the camera.
"So, Charlotte-"

"It's Charlie," I interrupted her weakly, brushing sweat from my forehead.

"Whatever. Now, tell about this project you've been insistingly pestering our news station about!" She said, looking like she was about to blow a gasket.

"Um, well," I said, turning to the camera nervously.
Vaggie gave me a supportive thumbs up, which gave me the courage to speak.

"As most of you know, I was born here in hell, and growing up, I always tried to see the good in everything around me. Hell is my home, and you are my people. We, we just went through another extermination. We lost so many souls, and it breaks my heart to see so many people slaughtered every year! No one is even given a chance," I exclaimed, slamming my fist on the table.
"I can't stand idley by while the place I live is subjected to such violence.
So, I've been thinking. Isn't there a more humane way to handle overpopulation here in hell? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to change souls through...... Redemption?
Well, I think yes! So that's what this project aims to achieve. Ladies and gentlemen, I'm opening the first of it's kind: A hotel that rehabilitates sinners!"

When there was no response, I quickly began to feel regret.
"Ya know," I said nervously, "Cause hotels are for people passing through.... Temporarily..."

"I figure it would serve a purpose... A place to work towards redemption...Yayyyy..."

"Stupid bitch," the cameraman muttered. Vaggie shoved him angrily, causing him to fall.

"Look," I said. "Every single one of you has something good deep down inside. I-i know you do."

I paused, suddenly getting an idea.
"Maybe I'm not getting through to you," I said, winking at Razzle and Dazzle.
"Oh no," I heard Vaggie groan.

I went over and sat on the piano, and when Razzle started playing the piano, I began to sing.

"I have a dream; I'm here to tell: About a wonderful fantastic New Hotel! Yes, it's one of a kind, right here in Hell, catering to a specific clientele..."

Then I lept up, jumping into a smooth, speedy song.

"Inside of every demon is a rainbow, inside of every dinner is a shiny smile! Inside of every creepy hatchet loving maniac, is a jolly, happy cupcake-loving child!
We can turn around," I sang, jumping up onto the desk,
"We'll be heaven bound! With just a little time down at the Happy Hotel!

"So all you junkies, freaks and weirdos, creepers, fuck ups, Crocks and zeros. And downfallen superhero's, help is here.
All you cretins, sluts and losers, sexual deviants and boozers, and prescription drug abusers need not fear! Forever again, we'll cure your sin!
We'll make you well, you'll feel so swell. Right here in Hell, at the Happy Hotel!

There'll be no more fire, and no more screams; just puppy dog kisses, and cotton candy dreams. And puffy wuffy clouds... You're gonna be like, 'Wow!' when you check in with me---------e!

So all your cartoon porn addictions, vegan rants, physic predictions Ancient Roman Cruifixitons - end right here!

All you monsters, theives, and crazies; cannibals and crying babies--
-Frothing mouth is full of Rabies; filled with cheer!-

You'll be complete! It'll be so neat!

Our service can't be beat, you'll be on easy Street, yes, Life will be sweet at the Happy Hotel!

Yeah!"

I stopped to catch my breath and looked expectantly at the camera.

"Wow," someone said. "That was shit."