Helluva Boss S2 E9: Apology Tour

 

 

 

The red full moon turned the crimson sky even redder than usual. Blitzo had gone shopping for sex toys: phallus shaped candles from a shopkeeper, whips and things from the spider shopkeeper and even got a chance to see Fizzarolli’s collection of gadgets. He had bought the Hell Dinger 5000 eldritch purple vibrator from Fizzarolli and was now lifting up a sack onto Stolas’ balcony.

 

Stolas twiddled his thumbs and sat sadly on his bed.

 

Blitzo posed as he lifted himself over the railing. He dragged the bag over to Stolas.

 

“Hi-dee ha hoo ha, Stolas! Guess what I got for us? I got lots of fun shit for us to play with tonight!”

 

He pulled out a large candle with “Dankee” on it.

 

“Like this extra-large candle that smells like…” He sniffed, “…hooorny!” He tossed aside a gnome-shaped butt plug. “I got-I got whatever uh, this little guy is, but I’m sure there’s some place in your cloaca we can stick it. And look at this bad boy!”

 

He turned on the vibrator and laughed evilly.  “HAHAHA!”

 

Stolas sat up. “Do you…ahem, do you have my book, Blitz?”

 

Blitzo’s smile fell, and he turned off the vibrator. “Yeah, uh, yeah, it’s right here, I always bring it. Why do you…”

 

Stolas held out his hand. “I need it back. Permanently.”

 

Blitzo pulled the grimoire back. “N-n-now hold on, Stolas. Come on. Is this because I’ve taken up skipping a few rounds with you in bed because I’m busy? That ain’t fair. Alright, I-I can still hold up my end of the bargain! Alright? L-let me show you a good time tonight.” He spoke seductively. “You know I caaan…”

 

Stolas shuddered and pulled away. “Please don’t…say it like that, Blitzo. I…”

 

Blitzo used his hands to push open Stolas’ legs. “Come onnn, bitch. You know I don’t disappoint…”

 

Stolas briefly blushed, then shook his head. “No, no, no. There’s no need. I’ve made up my mind.” He stood up and walked away, grimoire in his arms.

 

Blitzo desperately followed him. “Stolas, please! I-I need this book, please! I need this book, Stolas. I will do anything.”

 

Stolas’ grimoire hovered next to him. Stolas did a small smile and showed Blitzo a small black box with a blue sigil of Asmodeus on top. He opened it, revealing an orange-yellow crystal on a teal cushion.

 

“This is an Asmodean crystal. It’s registered in your name.”

 

Blitzo looked confused. “Uh, what?”

 

Stolas flipped open the book with his magic, showing an icon of Blitzo using the crystal to travel from the Hell pentagram planet to a city on Earth, where he smashed it with his feet.

 

“Asmodeus has his demons legally travel to Earth for work all the time. I made the case for you to own one. You will be technically under his jurisdiction, but you will be able to go anywhere you want in the human realm without fear of consequence.”

 

Stolas put his grimoire back on the shelf. “Without breaking demon law. You no longer need my grimoire.”

 

“What?” Blitzo asked sheepishly.

 

Stolas breathed, looking downcast. “You…no longer have any obligation to see me, to touch me, to bed me, you are…you are free of me.”

 

Blitzo examined the crystal. “I…don’t understand. Why are you giving me this? Am I not, like, fucking you good enough? Because I-I can always-I can always do better…”

 

“Blitz,” Stolas began, looking him in the eyes and putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m giving you this because I care…very deeply for you. And I have for some time.” He attached the yellow crystal to Blitzo’s glove, embedding itself into his hand. The sigil of Asmodeus briefly flashed in gold. “But this transactional thing we have, it’s not right anymore. It hasn’t been. It never was. And now all I can see is how wrong it is to be so tethered to someone in such an unfair way…and not know how they feel. But I want you to continue to be who you are, your business.”

 

Stolas removed his hat.

 

“You don’t have to stay with here with me. But…I want you to. I want you to stay here with me because you want to. Only if you want to.”

 

Blitzo then smirked after a pause. “Oookay, alright, you’re fucking with me.” Stolas appeared shocked that Blitzo was dismissing him. “This is an interesting roleplay. Never done this one, but I can get into it. Alright, how’s this, okay…’Oh Stolas, I’ll stay with you. I love you soooo much, I…’”

 

Stolas held up a hand for Blitzo to stop. He put his hat back on.

 

“Thank you Blitz, for…awakening me…for making me so happy. Even if only for a little while.” He paused, trembling with the pain of saying goodbye. “I wish you the best with your business.”

 

Blitzo was stunned. “Wait, what? You were serious? Oh, hold on now, Stols. What the fuck?”

 

Stolas somberly walked down the hallway, all the mirrors and photos covered by sparkly cloths. Stolas figured it was time to move on and put his past behind him. The pictures of Octavia peered behind the curtains.

 

“I have my answer, Blitz. You needn’t say anything. I have wanted you for so long, that your first instinct is that it’s always…about sex.” He paused. “That’s enough to know what this is.”

 

Blitzo fumed, kicking open the double doors. “What?! FUCK you, Stolas! You spring this feelings bullshit on me, are you FUCKING KIDDING?! Can I get a FUCKING minute to think after everything you put me through, you pompous rich ASSHOLE?!”

 

His voice echoed in the spacious room, bloodred light shining through the stained-glass windows.

 

Stolas and Blitzo froze, and a somber silence settled. The crystal wavy chandelier from Stolas and Blitzo’s childhood was also covered.

 

 Blitzo continued. “Treat me like one of your little butler imps?! You can’t just dismiss me like that!” Tears formed in his eyes. “I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this EVERY TIME, like you can just play with our feelings because we’re smaller and not as IMPORTANT! Well, I’m not letting you, BITCH! LET’S GO!”

 

His voice echoed again. Tears flowed in Stolas’ eyes. He gulped silently and his mouth trembled.

 

 “Blitz, I think so very highly of you…” His voice broke, “I didn’t realize you think so lowly of me…”

 

After a pause, he briefly gave him a glance.

 

“Goodbye, Blitz.”

 

Blitzo gasped and reached out.  “Stolas, wait! I’m s…”

 

Before he could apologize, Blitzo found himself teleported outside Stolas’ mansion.

 

 “What…the….FUUUUUUUCK?!” Blitzo screamed in disbelief and fury as a bunch of hellish crows cawed and flocked toward the red full moon in the crimson sky.

 

 

 

0 0 0

 

A smooth stream of water flowed into a large pool illuminated by white orbs and pink and blue light. Near the stream at the top were a group of dark orange Venus Fly Trap plants with orange eyes surrounded by black sclera. All around the garden were palm trees and leafy plants that gave it a tropical peaceful atmosphere, despite being in Hell. Stolas was lounging on a purple and blue lounge chair with gold trim. Next to him was a glass of red wine on a gold side table. Stolas was currently reading a romance novel called “Pride and Brimstone.” He wore a white housecoat robe decorated with dark leaves.

 

A figure climbed up the garden wall, which had spiky vines snaking up the sides.

 

“Heeellloo, hello, hello, Stolas.”

 

Stolas briefly peered up, then glared and covered his face with his book.

 

“You have…AH!”

 

Blitzo fell into the bushes before standing up and posing on a Venus Fly Trap plant.

 

“You haven’t been answering my texts and I sent you a bunch of funny shit. So what gives?”

 

Stolas deadpanned, still looking at his book. “I was hoping my lack of ‘ha ha’s’ in response to the photos you sent would be an indicator I didn’t want to talk right now.”

 

“Oh, come on, Stolas, we just had a rough night.” Blitzo gave him a suggestive look, lowering his book with a hand. “’Sides, you always want to hear from me.”

 

Stolas sighed and closed the book, fatigue in his eyes. “Blitz. What is it you want?”

 

“I wanna feel like I’m earning my way to Earth. Kay? So get your tight feathered ass out of that lawn chair and get into the bedroom so I can…” He leaned in close, “fuck it!”

 

“Wow. Poetry.” Stolas said sarcastically. He rolled his eyes and stood up. “I’m sure such a statement would have had me swooning by now.”

 

Blitzo followed him, nervously, brushing his own neck. “Uhh, I, sh-yeah, sure that wa-, okay, that was a shitty way for me to say it, but you usually like it when I talk all dirty and fucky and shit…”

 

Stolas walked toward a small red tent decorated with strings of round lights inside. The tent had a gold mobile at the top with a round moon and extending from it were figures of stars, a sun and a crescent moon.

 

Stolas turned around with a glare.

 

“Come on,” said Blitzo, “we don’t do words, we do sex.”

 

“As shocking as this might seem, Blitz, I don’t think I’m in the mood to do ‘sex’ with you. In fact, I don’t think I’m even in the mood to do words with you!” He waved a hand. “So how about you respect that.”

 

“Oh, come on, Stolas, you can’t mean that,” Blitzo pleaded, following him. “You always love seeing this.” He grinned and posed by the tent curtains.

 

“Seeing you right now is hard!” Stolas proclaimed. “I don’t want to feel worse than I already do.”

 

Stolas placed his book on a table.

 

“It’s bad enough I got an invite to this anti-Blitzo party,” Stolas said, opening up the invitation, “’an honorary invite for being your freshest ex.’”

 

Blitzo’s eyes went wide with shock and fury. “ANTI-BLITZO PARTY?! WHO THE FUCK’S BEHIND THIS?!” He reached for it, but Stolas held it back.

 

“Oh, it’s entirely immature,” Stolas remarked, waving a hand. “I’d never indulge in this nonsense, it’s silly.” He held out the invitation to Blitzo, who ripped it out of his hands.

 

“Real silly. Real fucking classy.”

 

Stolas then smirked. “Kind of them to invite me, though. It might be rude not to make an appearance.”

 

Blitzo opened it up.

 

On the front of the invitation was “YOU’RE INVITED!!” in pink cursive letters with hearts as the exclamation point dots. Down below was a drawing of a dead Blitzo with a large knife in his chest, lying in black blood. On the back was a pink broken heart. Inside the card were more pink words: “Stolas, congrats! Blitzo has officially broken your fucking heart. It would be my pleasure to extend this honorary invite for being his freshest ex, to our Halloween party in the human world (located at 666 South Maple Avenue) for closure and to indulge in our shared hatred for that miserable fuckboy. Hope to see you there. Verosika Mayday.” She signed her name with more hearts.

 

“VEROSIKA?!” Blitzo fumed. “Of course, that fucking bitch!”

 

“I will say,” Stolas began, “It’s rather concerning you have an entire party devoted to hating you though, Blitz.”

 

Blitzo placed the invitation back into Stolas’ hands. “Oh please, everyone hates me for shitty reasons.” He sat down in a chair. “In the end, everyone’s just bitter they couldn’t tie this ass down.” He propped his legs onto the table. “I’m too much imp to simp.”

 

Stolas folded his arms. “You really think that’s the reason?”

 

“Yes sir, they couldn’t handle that I moved on.”

 

“Oh! So you’re used to being the one crushing others’ feelings, hm?” Stolas asked, glaring.

 

“If by…” Blitzo impersonated Stolas’ royal voice, “‘crushing others’ feelings,’ you mean ends shit before it gets serious, then bingo!”

 

“If you’re so scared of getting serious and getting too close in relationships, what are you doing here then, Blitz?” Stolas asked.

 

Blitzo looked unsure. “Waiting for you to admit that you get off to getting plowed by people you look down on.”

 

“I don’t look down on you!” Stolas cried. “How many times do I have to say it? When have I ever?!”

 

Blitzo rolled his eyes and explained sarcastically, “Oh, I don’t know…how about when you first started using me for sex every full moon? Or when you wanted me to kill some guy for spreading info about global warming? And all that dirty talk you did on the phone…you claim I’m scared of intimacy, but you can’t even communicate properly! I’m just giving you what you want, right?!”

 

Stolas sat in a chair. “You sound just like that horrific cowboy Striker!”

 

“Oh, don’t compare me to that scumbag!” Blitzo snapped back. “I saved you the first time!”

 

“The first time?” Stolas asked.

 

Blitzo paused. “Yeah, you know, at the Harvest Moon Festival?”

 

“And yet, you didn’t look for me after he almost killed me in the Wrath mine!”

 

“I got there…eventually…”

 

“I called you for help!”

 

“Well, you sure sounded horny as fuck on the phone, though! Besides I had to take care of Loona.”

 

“Oh right, that pet of yours.”

 

“She’s my daughter, you prick!”

 

Stolas sighed and stood up, holding his “Pride and Brimstone” romantic novel in his long black arms. Blitzo followed him down the path.

 

“Anyway, how was I supposed to know you could get hurt?” Blitzo asked. “You’re immortal and shit! You’re a fucking prince! If me and my team could kick that guy’s ass so easily, then I’m sure you’d have no problem.”

 

Stolas turned around and did a mock bow. “I suppose you are right, silly me. It’s not an imp’s place to protect a Goetia is it?”

 

Bypassing Stolas’ sarcasm, Blitzo held out a hand. “Aaand there it is! Took ya long enough!”

 

Stolas put his hands on his hips. “That’s all you were waiting for, wasn’t it? For me to play into this idea you have of me that I’m this prince who thinks he’s so much better than you.” His arms lowered. “Well, I don’t! Why would I allow everyone to see how much I like you? And even if I didn’t like you, why would I waste my time mistreating you? Our relationship was supposed to be sacred! I’ve tried so fucking hard to spend time with you, to support you. You can’t just ignore all that!”

 

Blitzo fired back, “THAT’S THE GAYEST SHIT I’VE HEARD ALL DAY!”

 

Stolas glared down. “Do you ever feel any kind of remorse for what you do? Have you apologized properly to anyone once in your life?”

 

Blitzo’s tail swished back and forth. “Why would I need to apologize to anyone? They all just hurt me and then they’re gone. I have no time to do something sissy like that.”

 

“Is that what your father taught you?”

 

“Like that’s any of your business. Perhaps you should go back to your own prissy papa and let him help you find imp fucktoys to…”

 

“Get out!” Stolas barked. “Right now! I don’t want to hear any more from a person who can’t apologize…”

 

Blitzo sniffed, his voice cracking. “You think I can’t apologize?! Oh sorry, this entire time I assumed the worst because I was convinced a prince could never love someone like me and I’ve let my self-hatred stop me from apologizing to anyone I could ever care about!”

 

Stolas turned around, slightly surprised. “Well yes. That.”

 

After a brief silence, Blitzo fumed, pointing a finger. “Weeellll fuck you! I can sorry the fuck outta people! Just you watch!”

 

Stolas turned around and angrily stomped up the stairs toward the double glass doors.

 

Blitzo continued. “I sorried Fizz so hard, he cried! And I can sorry more people, everyone but you! ‘Cause I don’t owe you dick!”

 

Without another word, Stolas opened the door and slammed it shut, disappearing inside.

 

Blitzo sighed before turning around, full of resentment. “Everyone but you.”

 

0 0 0

 

Blitzo paced back and forth in his apartment before briefly curling himself up on his couch. Clenching a fist, he later slammed down his mug of coffee on a table, the mug showing a design of two horses howling at a full moon.

 

“I can totally apologize to the people I’ve fucked with,” Blitzo claimed. He got into his van and closed the door. A pile of junk, boxes, and cans sat next to him on the red seat.

 

“I mean, how many could there possibly be?”

 

He took a pen with a horseshoe design on it and wrote on a piece of paper. On the list were “Moxxie?” and “Annoying Kid.”

 

Blitzo traveled to a basketball court, where a demonic Eddie was pushing other boys and shooting a demon’s head into the basket. He was short and chubby with red skin, red eyes, a forked tail and claws. He still wore the same orange shirt with a ringed planet on it, black pants, and a blue baseball cap.

 

Blitzo tossed him a crumpled note and he glanced down. He picked it up and Blitzo’s note read, “Sorry. Welcome to Hell, dumbass!”

 

Eddie roared and gave a waving Blitzo double middle fingers.

 

Getting back into his van, Blitzo crossed off “Annoying Kid.”

 

Blitzo then wrote “Southern Bitch” on the list.

 

Blitzo walked up to a cabin in the woods and knocked on the door. The door opened.

 

“Yeeauuss?” replied a woman with a southern drawl. She had red skin, sharp teeth and thick wavy gray hair with a few dark gray and red streaks in it. Her hair hung past her waist. She wore black skull earrings with red eyes. Her short shirt was torn, white with red polka dots and a black sharp top line, revealing large breasts. Her legs were black with red lines below her black belt and her feet were goat hooves. Finally, she displayed long black curved horns with red lines. Her left eye was pink against black sclera and her right eye was gaping black where she had been shot by Moxxie.

 

The woman then frowned and glared down at Blitzo, black hands on her hips. “Oh. It’s you.”

 

“Heeyy Martha,” Blitzo smiled nervously, speaking fast. “Look I know we killed you in the past, but I just wanted to say no hard feelings and offer this.”

 

He winked and held out a brown gift basket. Inside was Swiss cheese, bottles of hot sauce and a note with “sorry” on it.

 

As Blitzo handed it to her, a purple demon stepped out into the living room, dripping wet, hands up. She had red thin glasses, red diamond earrings, straight white hair, horns, a long tail, black hooves and a white towel wrapped around herself. It was none other than Mrs. Mayberry, the former schoolteacher on Earth. She and Martha had gone from rivals to lovers since they both turned into Sinner demons in Hell.

 

Mrs. Mayberry’s red eyes glowed and went wide in embarrassment as Blitzo gave her a smirk. Martha turned to glance at her partner, then shot back sarcastically at Blitzo, “Yeah, that’s fuckin’ right!” Giving him one last glare, she slammed the door on him. Blitzo smiled and crossed “Southern Bitch” off his apology list.

 

His list read, “Moxxie?” “Southern Bitch,” “Annoying Kid,” “Guy I Ran Over,” “Hot Bouncer,” “Shitty Agents,” “Angel Sheep,” “Stolas?” and, of course, “Verosika Bitch.”

 

A baby carriage rolled over to the Loo-Loo Land apple mascot, Loo-Loo who now sat homeless near a tent, surrounded by the destroyed theme park. A small fire was lit in a metal tin can in front of him with an apple design on it. Blitzo popped out from the carriage and slapped a gift basket of Swiss cheese, hot sauce and a “sorry” note into the mascot’s eye. Blitzo smiled and wheeled away, the mascot sitting dejectedly. Robo Fizz’s glowing eyes and grin appeared menacingly in the darkness.

 

Blitzo tossed another gift basket through a portal and it landed in a room full of the gruesome remains of the fallen agents.

 

Blitzo stepped through the portal to the Lust Ring and stood on an incubus he knocked to the ground. With a bow, he presented the pink incubus bouncer a bouquet of white flowers with eyes on them. The bouncer stood perplexed with the flowers in his hands.

 

At the Hollys movie awards on Earth, Blitzo dressed as a blonde princess in a light blue dress with a crown and bowed on stage. Black and white photos of the movie director and the “Sweetie I’m In The House” actor appeared on a large screen with “In Memorium” in white letters.

 

The D.H.O.R.K.S agents sat bored in their headquarters. Agent Two was slumped over and Agent One absentmindedly pressed a green button at the controls. Through the pink diamond portal, Blitzo placed a “sowy” note on their desk with a sad face and a drawing of a horse on it. He smiled and snapped both his fingers at them. The agents, perplexed at first, soon yelled and tried to grab him, but the portal closed. Red lights flashed as the agents, a taller blonde agent, and one of the priest clones aimed their guns at the note. “Demon sighting, do not cross” police tape was hung every which way. The cherubs, wounded from battle, also hovered by the agents. Blitzo tapped Cletus on his back with a finger and handed him a note through the portal. As Blitzo vanished, Cletus red his scribbled note: “Cherub” followed inside by “Fuck you guys! Sorry not sorry!” with a Blitzo drawing giving them middle fingers. Cletus glared in response.

 

0 0 0

 

Blitzo briefly opened up the invitation again before closing it and putting his hands on the steering wheel.

 

“Alright, and now onto the exes.” He pulled down the clutch and straightened up the overhead mirror, revealing his worried eyes. “Who are aaall in one place.” He sighed. “Yay.”

 

He rubbed the yellow Asmodean crystal on his left wrist and pink diamonds of energy appeared. A pink diamond portal shimmered to life and the I.M.P. van roared through it, tumbling to a stop and crushing a jack-o-lantern with a witches’ hat to green goo.

 

Over a green forest in the background, the sky was dark blue and slightly teal, dotted with stars and a full moon. Trick-or-treaters were out in a variety of costumes near decorated houses. One house had a fake dead body cutout with two nearby cones that were put on display on a lower slanted roof. The windows of the houses were decorated with spiderwebs and smiling jack-o-lanterns glowed in the night. Strings of lights blinked from the houses and toilet paper hanging on trees swayed in the wind. An RIP headstone was propped up on one lawn. A noose hung from another house.

 

Blitzo’s van came to a stop, startling a kid in a white clown costume and another kid holding a bottle and wearing a red devil mask with an upside-down black cross on the forehead. His regular face revealed slightly dark skin and short black hair. He had fake fangs in his mouth.

 

Blitzo rolled down his window as the kid with the devil mask approached. “Hey buddy, you know where 666 South Maple Avenue might be?”

 

The kid grinned and pointed. “Down that way, demon dude! Sick costume, bruh.” He waved a fist and spun a finger in approval. He then glanced as an elderly man approached. He wore yellow glasses, a spiky collar, black and white underwear and thin black straps. He put a hand on the kid and looked at Blitzo.

 

“Hey, Happy Halloween!” The grandpa then pointed. “Oh, looks like you missed some makeup there.”

 

Blitzo spoke sarcastically. “Thaaanks. It’s my face.”

 

Blitzo drove by a house decorated with a bloodied scythe, a witches’ broom, drinks on a bale of hay, a giant spider, a standing ghost, and a wizard hat on the roof.

 

“YOU’RE INVITED!!”  “Has Blitzo broken your fucking heart? Do you desire revenge and Halloween fun? Come on over to our Halloween party in the human world (located at 666 South Maple Avenue) for closure and to indulge in our shared hatred for that miserable fuckboy. Enjoy Blitzo body cake, Beelzejuice drinks, music and fun! Also featuring yours truly in concert! Hope to see you there. Verosika Mayday.”

 

Verosika handed out invitations to her anti-Blitzo party. Incubi and succubi flew off through the Lust Ring, handing out the invites or posting them online for more demons to see. Several succubi and incubi grinned with excitement and started to plan their Halloween costumes.

 

“I’m so gonna be a mermaid this year!”

 

“I’m thinking…high school cheerleader!”

 

“Haha! Witch, please!”

 

“How about…an angel. The goofy kind, not, you know…”

 

“That’s a great idea! There’s a spider shopkeeper that sells great sex toys, I bet he could weave up some outfits for us!”

 

“Me and my brother will make the Blitzo voodoo dolls! My mom’s side of the family comes from Envy.”

 

“You wanna come with us, too?”

 

“Nah. I much prefer Hell’s Halloween tradition of surprise-attacking the weaker ones and trick-or-treating for hearts and guts!”

 

“Your loss, buddy!”

 

“Hey, Ver,” said a succubus band member. “Where will it be at?”

 

“Me and my crew have been searching the mortal world and we found this nice mansion on a hill near a forest. The people are out for the night, so thankfully there will be no intervention needed. We got our Asmodean crystals ready for the portal. It begins after sundown.”

 

“I hear it’s a full moon, too! Extra spooky and special!”

 

“Hey, Verosika, girl! Great to hear from you! A party in the human world, very unique! I’ll send over some Beelzejuice for you, on the house!”

 

“Thanks, Bee! I think me and my crew have the perfect idea for the cake, hahahaha!”

 

“I’ll see you soon, Ver. The band equipment is working, and the stage will soon be set up.”

 

“Thanks, Tex, I know I can always count on you!”

 

The invitations spread far and wide throughout the Rings. Several goat demons with candles on their heads peered at theirs with curiosity from the Sloth Ring. Hellhounds from Gluttony howled in excitement and gathered bags of candy and alcoholic drinks.

 

In the Wrath Ring, a group of muscular imps laughed while sitting in a wooden tavern.

 

“Check it out, man,” one of them said, holding up an invite. “A Halloween party in the mortal world! Let’s go!”

 

“Can’t wait to swing my fists at some Blitzo targets,” another chimed in. The scrawny imp Dennis walked with a group of imps with their invites. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew Dennis’ invitation from his hands.

 

“Way to go, Dennis,” one of them rolled his eyes. “You just lost your invite!”

 

“You suck, Dennis,” added the other. Dennis flinched with a sad look on his face.

 

Blitzo spotted a mansion in the distance up on a hill with two moving pink spotlights. He pulled up to the front. The mansion was made of stones and had several pink tinted windows. Spiderwebs laced the roofs, and five bats dotted the windows. Jack-o-lanterns, headstones and alcohol bottles lined the lawn. Orange strings of lights looped over the bushes near the van.

 

Blitzo got out, sighing deeply and lowering his head as he snuck inside. The candles lining the steps glowed eerily as he went in.

 

Up on the ceiling, torn red banners gave the place a haunted house feel. Strings of lights dotted red and purple crisscrossed near the wooden beams and ceiling. Round lights and pink spotlights danced in time with Halloween party music being played. Spotlights blinked from pink, to teal, to orange as disco balls spun around. Neon ghosts with “Boo!” near them in a thought bubble were on display on the walls above. Headstones on a table read “RIP this dip,” and “Here lies dip.” Torn streamers hung like curtains in the open doorways.

 

It looked like any ordinary Halloween party, but with several differences. An array of demons danced and drank and chatted naturally in their casual clothing. Imps, incubi, succubi, Sloth Ring goats, hellhounds, and many other types were all together in the space. Several demons wore costumes of their own: an angel, a dinosaur, a white dress, and a cheerleader.

 

The decorations exemplified the crowds’ hatred for Blitzo ruining their lives in various stages. Hanging paper pumpkins read “Fuck Blitzo,” and a pinata was shaped like a dead Blitzo with xs on his eyes and a noose around its neck. “BLITZO, MORE LIKE SHITZO” was painted on the walls in neon green. In more neon green paint was a Blitzo with xs for eye and a knife in his forehead. “Smells like piss,” “c*nt,” and “loser,” were written next to it. Broken hearts with arrows were also on a wall near broken mirrors.

 

Several demons wore shirts and jackets that read “I H8 Blitzo,” “Fuck Blitzo,” and “Blitzo, Kill Yourself,” “Die Blitzo Die,””Blitzo sucks ass,” “F U Blitzo,” “Shitzo,” and “Blitzo Hater.” A large neon broken heart glowed from upstairs.

 

Stolas strolled carefully through the crowd, hearing distant screaming and glass breaking. Once again, the lonely owl felt out of place at another party. He walked toward a wall where two succubi were making out. On the wall was a cardboard target of a dead Blitzo with xs for the eyes and an ax and a knife in it.

 

Stolas sighed and poured himself a drink into a red cup. The bottle had a wailing ghost on it.

 

“The one day a year the spirits can rise amongst the living and it’s spent celebrating mutual pettiness.”

 

“Uh, what?” barked an incubus dressed like a sailor. He had a Blitzo head treat on his fork and an anchor tattoo.

 

Stolas chuckled nervously. “Oh! Nothing! I was talking to myself.”

 

“Cool, man, I wish I was you,” he drawled sarcastically before walking away.

 

Stolas sighed and gulped down his drink. The horned and winged shadows of demons swayed in the changing light. Stolas folded his arms and leaned against the wall.

 

Verosika Mayday swayed happily though the crowd, holding a bottle of honey-like Beelzejuice alcohol from Beelzebub, the partying ruler of the Gluttony Ring. Verosika wore long torn white pants with a crossed out pink heart on them. She had a short black top that exposed part of her breasts in an oval cut in the middle. She wore a spiky collar, a spiky black belt, fingerless gloves, and high heel black boots with pink xs on them. A red heart tattoo with Blitzo’s name on it had a black X over it on her arm. She had her long white hair in a thick ponytail, her pink heart tail, and pink horns with black stars on them. Small black heart tattoos dotted her cheek and belly button.

 

She took a swig of her drink. She then glanced over.

 

“Helllooo freshest ex! Stolas!”

 

She happily walked over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Stolas stood agape.

 

“How’re you doing, baby, you holding up okay?”

 

“Oh, I’m fine,” Stolas replied. “I felt it rude not to stop by. I don’t get invited out much, but I really shouldn’t stay long.”

 

“Well, I’m glad you could make it, honey,” Verosika smiled, as they clinked their cups together. Verosika gulped down her drink as Stolas watched the demons dancing. One demon wearing a blue suit held up a voodoo doll of Blitzo and another demon stabbed it with a knife.

 

“Well, this certainly beats the last Earth party I attended on Hallows Eve,” said Stolas.

 

Stolas remembered a dark cult on Earth of a dozen men in black hoods. They had tied up and blindfolded a shaking man with short blonde hair and no clothes on. He was bound by his wrists to a cross-shaped stone slab as candles lit the space.

 

The leader ominously raised a bloodstained black ritual dagger as Stolas’ sigil glowed orange on the wall. “All hail the demon Prince Stolas!”

 

Stolas held a cup in his hand and appeared bored. “I was told there would be cake?” Stolas began. Blood splattered onto his face as the leader stabbed the man and the members droned, “All hail, all hail!”

 

Stolas still shuddered at the memory. He took another gulp of his drink when Verosika put a hand on his shoulder, smirking evilly.

 

“Speaking of cake, you wanna slice it?!”

 

She pulled Stolas over to the prized food of the party.

 

“Ohhh…erugh,” Stolas muttered in utter disgust. The cake was shaped like Blitzo’s dead body, with a bloodstained ax in his forehead and five arrows in his chest. A spike jutted through his arm and his eyes were xs, a tongue out. Black frosting appeared like black demon blood.

 

“I like to start at the neck,” Verosika whispered sinisterly, holding a knife. She hovered over the cake. “Or the dick.”

 

“Euurgh,” Stolas flinched.

 

“You’re right,” said Verosika. “Nobody wants his dick, anyway.”

 

She stabbed the cake crotch area rapidly like a psychotic Psycho killer.

 

“I-I think I’m content without slicing any of it,” Stolas stuttered, disturbed.

 

Verosika turned to him with open arms. “Well, live it up, baby, you are with friends here.” She raised her knife proudly. “Fuck Blitzo in the fucking ass!” The crowd cheered and raised their fists.

 

Verosika shrieked and laughed manically as she sliced the cake neck with her knife and put the Blitzo head onto her plate. Stolas noted all the drinks on the table near the cake, with a note that said, “Have fun! – Bee,” from Beelzebub. Three wailing neon ghosts had “Boo!” in a thought bubble above them. He also spotted real red bloodstains on the white sheet covering the table. Stolas spotted a pink incubus decorating another tablecloth with the fresh blood of a bird. Flies buzzed around a pile of dead birds outside.

 

“At least they aren’t hunting humans,” Stolas thought. Two incubi ripped oven a pinata shaped like Blitzo in the background, one of them holding up the top half in delight. A female imp dressed like a black cat held up a Blitzo doll hanging from a noose. A horned demon with crazed eyes wearing a “fuck Blitzo” shirt, a police hat and skeleton leggings and fingerless gloves sat on a couch hammering nails into the crotch of another Blitzo voodoo doll.

 

 

 

Blitzo walked through the crowd, looking around nervously. “W-o-ow. Have I fucked this many people? Christ on a stick, I should start keeping count.”

 

He put his hands on his hips. He pushed by the succubus in the cheerleader outfit and a tall pink glaring incubus wearing a short red shirt and pants. Blitzo muttered half-assed apologies as he walked.

 

“Sorry for the comment I made at your sister’s wedding. Though she did deserve it, she’s a whore.”

 

“Sorry for fucking your mom, though I thought it was your dad.”

 

Blitzo flinched back as he spotted the pinata of him hanging from a noose by the table of drinks. Feeling self-conscious, he raced over and pulled the bloodstained white sheet off the table. Drinks splattered and clattered to the floor as he wrapped himself in his ghost-like disguise.

 

“HEY!” yelled a unicorn demon wearing a purple skirt with a star on it and a shirt with an eye on it. She held a bottle in her hands.

 

“He did it,” Blitzo called, pointing to a skinny scrawny imp with white curly hair, a dark blue beanie cap, blue pants and a short black tuxedo shirt. He flinched while holding a cup in his hands.

 

The unicorn glared at the imp. “Way to go, Dennis, you fucking suck.”

 

“Yeah, you suck, Dennis!” added a male shirtless incubus.

 

Thankful for the distraction, Blitzo pushed open a sliding door. Above him was a red banner that read “Fuck you, Blitzo!” with an icon of him with a knife in his forehead. There was a row of flags with pink broken hearts on them and another “Fuck Blitzo” next to a streamer of bats, skulls, pumpkins and ghosts.

 

Blitzo glanced left and right, a jack-o-lantern with a phallus carving next to him. Two female hellhounds were talking together. An incubus dressed as a skeleton stood next to another incubus dressed as Beatlejuice.

 

Blitzo popped up among a crowd of demons gathered outside. Several demons held a torn purple flag on a stick with his icon crossed out. A red goat with wings, a candle on his forehead and a 69 shirt was throwing darts at a paper drawing of a dead Blitzo. The drawing had “U suk!” “F u Blitzo!” and “Here,” with red arrows pointing to his crotch area. The goat landed a dart at the crotch target and the crowd cheered. A yellow goat with a snake tail and a teal candle wore a “Blitzo sucks ass” shirt. A tall succubus with a witch hat, a short black skirt and tall black boots burned a life-like Blitzo plushie tied at the stake. More cheering.

 

Verosika shrieked and laughed manically, holding a microphone as Stolas stood with uncertainty in the crowd.

 

“Oh shit,” Blitzo ducked.

 

Next to Verosika on a stage was her dark gray muscular hellhound bodyguard Vortex. His arms were folded, left eye blind with a scar on it, and wore torn black clothing. A black roaring hellhound tattoo was on his left arm. Among spotlights and strings of lights were red curtains with grinning pumpkins on them and “BLITZO SUCKS” in yellow letters. Verosika grinned.

 

“Now, it’s time to hear from the special new guest of honor of the night, Stolaaas! Get up here and say a few words!”

 

The spotlight shone on Stolas, who choked on his purple drink.

 

Behind Stolas was a pink succubus wearing a white shirt, short shorts and a French-style hat. The other was a female imp wearing sunglasses, white leggings and a white dress with the upside-down hospital cross logo from the Sloth Ring.

 

“Oh, no. No, no, no, I’m not really, um, heheh…” Stolas protested as the two smiling demon women pushed him onto the stage.

 

“Uh, I really shouldn’t, I…” Stolas flinched as the spotlight was on him on stage.

 

Verosika stood beside him. “Tell us all about your experience with Blitzo. That cock-sucking motherfucker!” She put a hand on his shoulder. “C’mon, baby, speak from your heart. We all here know how you feel.”

 

Stolas stuttered, sweat dripping down his feathered face as he took the microphone. “Um. Oh, ahahaha, um…”

 

Several demons looked at him: a pink succubus wearing a magenta magicians’ outfit, a succubus with a green mermaid outfit, a fat hairy imp, an incubus wearing a light blue shirt that revealed his chest, a heavy-set succubus wearing black, an incubus with long purple hair, a yellow star on his cheek and a shirt that said, “The Josh hates Blitzo.” A pink spotlight shone on Stolas.

 

Stolas took a deep breath and began his song. (“The Motherfucker”)

 

“I let you get too close

I let it go too far

Now I know, now I know

Now I know exactly what you are.”

 

Verosika and Vortex stood on either side of Stolas, Verosika to his right, Vortex to his left, harmonizing with him.

 

Verosika and Vortex chorused, “Na-na-na, na na, na, a motherfucker. Na-na-na, na na, na, a motherfucker.”

 

Behind Stolas were incubi and succubi band members. One was a female with long black hair wearing a black “stand in” shirt, strumming a guitar, wearing black upside-down cross earrings. A muscular incubus wore a torn gray sleeveless jacket and a black collar with an upside down cross. He strummed a black guitar shaped like a black hellhound mouth. A gray hellhound played a set of drums with a pink hellhound roaring mouth on the front.

 

Stolas continued.

 

“I don’t think you meant to hurt me

‘Cause I don’t think it meant a thing at all.”

 

They all harmonized, “At all, at all, at all…At all, at all, at all…”

 

A sad Blitzo pushed his way to the front of the audience.

 

“At all, at all, to you,” sang Stolas.

 

“Na-na-na, na na, na, a motherfucker. Na-na-na, na na, na, a motherfucker,” added Verosika and Vortex.

 

Stolas imagined himself back in his mansion, on a stage with purple constellations and a purple sky.

 

“I let it go too long

I let you go too deep

Now I know, now I know,

Now I know there’s one thing I can’t keep.”

 

Stolas posed dramatically on a stage with moving cardboard representations of waves, clouds, a moving sun, a moving moon and glowing stars.

 

“But I, I keep on waiting

Waiting to want you less than I do

And I do, oh, I do, yes I still do want you.”

 

Stolas flew upside down, reaching out to touch Blitzo’s smiling face in a shard of glass. Blitzo’s features appeared in several mirrors around Stolas.

 

“But maybe it’s all on me

For missing every sign and every glance and every turn.”

 

Stolas reached out and flinched when a Blitzo folded his arms and scowled at him. He reached again, but a second Blitzo growled and scowled again.

 

Vortex and Verosika appeared in other mirrors behind him, waving fingers.

 

“No, no, no, he’s a motherfucker…”

 

Stolas continued.

 

“Maybe there’s something here for us to glean

For you to teach and me to try and learn…”

 

Stolas placed a hand on another smiling Blitzo, the mirror cracking where he placed his hand. Soon the mirror shattered along with all the other ones.

 

“No, no, no, he’s a motherfucker,” added Vortex and Verosika again.

 

“’Cause I am not a thief, but you were mine to earn,” sang Stolas, glancing around anxiously.

 

“What if I came on too strong?

What if I read this all wrong?

What if we just don’t belong?

All this what if, what if, what if, what if, what if, what if, what if…”

 

Scenes of Stolas and Blitzo together flashed through the broken shards around him.

 

“Why, why, why, why, why, why makes me BURN!”

 

An emotional Stolas briefly transformed into a purple fiery version of his owl demon form. The present stage appeared again.

 

“Oh, I don’t think you meant to hurt me

‘Cause I don’t think it meant a thing at all!”

 

“Well, did it?” asked Vortex and Verosika in song.

 

“No, not at all,” cried Stolas.

 

“Didn’t mean a goddamn thing,” sang Verosika and Vortex.

 

“At all, at all, at all…at all…” sang all three.

 

“Didn’t mean a, didn’t mean a,” added the demon band.

 

“At all, at all, at all…at all…”

 

“Didn’t mean a, didn’t mean a…”

 

“At all, at all to you,” sang Stolas.

 

Blitzo’s mouth trembled from under the tablecloth. He was now realizing the impact of how he had hurt Stolas.

 

The incubi and succubi happily waved glowsticks in the air as they swayed to the music.

 

They all sang,

 

“Na-na-na, na na, na, the motherfucker. Na-na-na, na na, na, the motherfucker,”

 

“Na-na-na, na na, na, the motherfucker. Na-na-na, na na, na, the motherfucker,”

 

“Na-na-na, na na, na, the motherfucker. Na-na-na, na na, na, the motherfucker,”

 

A brief flash appeared of a child Blitzo and Stolas running together before the scene cracked in half, showing a darker version of an adult Stolas and Blitzo letting go of their hands and breaking up. A broken heart glowing on Blitzo’s forehead as he stomped away, and Stolas sadly looking away into the dark red background…

 

“The motherfucker…” Stolas whispered with a sad crack in his voice as Blitzo’s eyes filled with tears.

 

“Thank you for your time,” Stolas said with a bow. The crowd cheered and applauded as he left the stage. Vortex howled in approval.

 

Verosika then stood on stage, a pink spotlight on her and began her own song. (“Over You”)

 

“Ever since you went away

I’ve been haunted, haunted

I always get whatever I want

And I wanted, I wanted you.”

 

Verosika recalled Blitzo and her sitting in a hot tub together, kissing and holding each other close. She remembered saying “I love you” and Blitzo looking shocked.

 

“So now I’m drawin’ circles in the sand

Try’na understand how you do the things you do.”

 

She recalled her and Blitzo doing tours together, her singing on stage, him helping to promote her merchandise.

 

“Baby, I’m not over it

But I’m over you

I’m over you, you, you

Baby, I’m not over it

But I’m over you

I’m over you, you, you.”

 

She remembered her and Blitzo sighing and lying in bed together at the motel. She woke up in the morning and found her car and credit card gone. She raced out the window, only to see Blitzo speed away.

 

“Sometimes it still hurts a bit

Sometimes I’m so full of shit

But this much is true

Baby, I’m not over it

I’m over you, you, you.”

 

Verosika remembered being humiliated by Blitzo and the gang during the Spring break tour on Earth. Being forced to pleasure Earth men in prison before Asmodeus got them back to Hell through his portal.

 

“I thought I could stomp you out

Like a fire, like a flame

It’s done but now I’m covered in ashes.”

 

Verosika imagined herself covered in ashes on her knees with fallen phoenix wings, Blitzo with fiery wings flying away in the air.

 

“And I still feel the same (I still feel the same)

I guess if I get rid of every sign of what we ever did

There’d be no one left to blame!”

 

Another memory of her and Blitzo doing a selfie at a club, her wearing a dark sparkly dress. Another flash of her mocking Blitzo during her song at Ozzie’s.

 

“Baby, I’m not over it

I’m over you

I’m over you

 

“Yeah, I try to look ahead

Sometimes I look back instead

Think I always knew, oh

Baby, I’ll get over it

I got over you.”

 

She took a breath and imagined her and Blitzo drifting apart, but peacefully. His image slowly faded until she only saw herself again. She saw the faces of everyone who cared about her: Vortex and her band crew.

 

“I got over you

I got over you

I got over you

I got over you.”

 

The crowd applauded.

 

Blitzo felt doubly guilty, and he trembled some more. Now he felt he had two big apologies to make.

 

He figured he’d start with Stolas first. He was tempted to hide in a corner for the rest of the night, but there was no backing down now.

 

“Alrighty, bitches, let’s get wild!” cheered Verosika as the audience applauded once again.

 

Blitzo sighed sadly and walked back into the building. He spotted Stolas guzzling down a drink from a golden bottle with a black hellhound icon on it.

 

“Hey.”

 

Stolas spat out his drink, coughing and gagging before turning around. “Blitz?!” He spoke in a drunken stupor. “What are you doing here? You’re lucky everyone is drunk, or you would be murdered right now.”

 

“Ah no it’s good, I’m in a disguise,” Blitzo said. Stolas pulled the tablecloth over Blitzo’s head and led him through the crowd. A poster upstairs with a broken heart read, “Blitzo break your fucking heart? Call here for compensation at 1800- FU-BLITZO.”

 

“Wow,” Blitzo looked in concern as Stolas continued drinking. “I’ve never seen you throw ‘em back like this.”

 

Stolas swayed against a doorframe. “Came just to judge me, is that it?”

 

“No, I just…this was the final stop on the apology tour I’ve been on today.”

 

“Oh yes, I recall,” Stolas deadpanned, shaking his bottle. “Everyone but me is getting your cheap apologies tonight, hm? Well, you certainly have your work cut out for you!” Stolas snatched a cup from a pink demon dressed like a mummy and gulped it down.

 

On a small couch sat an imp dressed as a pirate wearing sunglasses that read “FUK-YOU” in purple letters. On another couch, a female Sloth Ring demon with a candle on her forehead and glasses on her face, sucked in a green vapor drug from a long beaker.

 

“Look, how I acted this morning…” Blitzo began, “It was fucked, okay?”

 

“This morning?” Stolas asked. “Ugh, why did you show up there? Why’d you show up here?”

 

Stolas collapsed backwards and Blitzo caught him.

 

“You already asked that,” Blitzo muttered. “But look, I-I just really need to…to talk to you, to explain…”

 

“Oh?”

 

Blitzo sighed. “I’ve always been real shit at sorries, kay? They’re for pussies and no one fucking deserves them anyway.”

 

“Sounds like something Cash Buckzo would say…”

 

“Enough about my father, already!” Blitzo snapped, before taking a breath. “But I…I felt like maybe you actually needed one.”

 

“Oh, lucky mee!” Stolas sarcastically bellowed before falling to the ground. Blitzo helped him up and Stolas crawled to another chair.

 

“Oh shit, okay what I mean is…” Blitzo said, “I said sorry a lot today and honestly, didn’t really mean any of it. Because the only one I wanted to say it to…was you, Stols. I just…” he sighed again, “This whole thing we had going…” Blitzo turned away, tears beginning to form. “I mean you’re a fucking prince. I’m just an imp trying to get by. How could you ever actually care for an imp? Me. How could anybody?”

 

Stola peered up. “Blitz. There is a crowd full of people here, who cared so much…” he chuckled, “They threw an entire fucking party about hating you, every year! Do you know how much you have to care to do something as stupid as that?”

 

Blitzo closed his eyes in sadness. “Stolas, you are better off without me, kay? You deserve so much more. I don’t even know why you’d want to be with me.”

 

“You wanna know what I want?” Stolas asked. “I want to know what it’s like…to not be alone.” He glanced longingly at a pink female succubus dressed in yellow and black athletic clothes and a female demon with thick black hair laughing and pressed their faces close.

 

“I want to be someone’s someone. I want to feel wanted. But like, in a romantic way, like I’m standing out in the rain, at a train station and someone is shouting…”

 

Stolas stood up, “’Harriot! Don’t get on that train! It’s going to London and I cannot be without you!’”

 

The other demons glanced over.

 

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “Oh Stolas, that’s…a rom-com.”

 

“Oh, fuck you.” He sat back down. “The point is…I just, want someone to care if I stay or go. I want someone to want me. To want to see me. To hold me.”

 

Blitzo twiddled his fingers anxiously. He looked up at Stolas with wide yellow eyes of remorse as Stolas finished, “Look at me and think, ‘Well, you’re the only one I want.’”

 

A tear formed in the corner of Stolas’ red eye, and he buried his face in his hands. “‘I desire to hold you and talk to you, never let you feel so…’”

 

“Alone?” Blitzo whispered. He tentatively reached out a comforting shaking hand toward Stolas’ shoulder…

 

“You! Why are you here?” Stolas sobbed. “I don’t want you here, go home, please! Let me not feel so sad!”

 

Blitzo waited for Stolas to calm down. He wiped his eyes and took a breath.

 

“Hey,” said a male voice.

 

Blitzo and Stolas gasped. “Oh, heh. Hello,” Stolas sputtered. Down on one knee was a male incubus with white hair in bangs, an upside-down cross necklace and a white tank top shirt that read “Better than Blitzo.” He wore torn pants and a dog tag earring. A royal heart tattoo was on his left arm.

 

“Great song earlier. You have great pipes.”

 

“Thank you,” Stolas smiled.

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, he sings fantastic, we’re talking here,” an annoyed Blitzo waved a hand.

 

The incubus brushed back his hair and held out a hand. “Well, I just wanted to see if, maybe, I don’t know, you’d wanna…dance?”

 

Stolas’ eyes went wide. He’d never heard anyone talk so genuinely to him before. “You want to dance…with me?”

 

“Yeah,” he said, standing up.

 

Stolas glanced at Blitzo who paused. He then reluctantly put out a hand, allowing Stolas to go.

 

“Okay!” Stolas beamed, standing up and taking the incubus’ hands. They joined together with the crowd. Blitzo stood up and sadly watched Stolas and the incubus dancing and giggling together.

 

He then spotted Verosika moving somberly and gracefully up the stairs.

 

Blitzo sighed. He figured he’d make one more stop on his apology tour.

 

He followed Verosika up the stairs. She overlooked the crowd with a cigarette in her hand, standing near the large pink neon broken heart against the wall.

 

Taking a brave breath, Blitzo removed his hood.

 

“Hey, Ver.”

 

“So, an apology tour, huh?” she asked, still staring straight ahead. “You got a lot of balls coming here, Blitzo.”

 

“Yeah, I know, everyone here hates me.”

 

“Yep. That’s the point. Dumbass.”

 

“So what, you’re waiting for your sorry?” Blitzo smirked. He held his hands together mockingly. “Well, I’m sorry for always telling it like it is, sister.”

 

Verosika seethed. “Oh fuck you, you little prick.”

 

“What? I’m just being honest! I’m sorry for dumping ya! Sorry for not falling head over heals for you!” Blitzo mentioned down. “Or that guy! Or fucking Dennis! Or anyone at this STUPID FUCKING PARTY!”

 

“Oh, you are so fucking shitty!” Verosika remarked with a forced laugh. “Do you hear yourself?”

 

Blitzo turned around to face her. “Everyone’s shitty! Hello? We live in Hell! Why am I all of a sudden the bad guy just because I suck at relationships?”

 

“Are you expecting…sympathy?” Verosika flicked her cigarette away. She spoke in a mocking voice, “Aww poor Bwitz, finalwwy having to own that his actions affect other people’s fee fees.” She scoffed, “Bitch, please,” before turning to lean against the barrier.

 

Verosika scowled. “How do you think I felt? When the fun guy I was dating decided to just…bail on me because I make the shitty mistake of saying, ‘I love you?’ Ugh! It was the most embarrassing feeling. To be vulnerable for once and have you leave me behind at a motel, stealing my car and my credit card for your shitty horse-riding lessons…all to hide your stupid fear of intimacy!”

 

She glared. “Oh, Blitzo, you really know how to send a message in the shittiest fucking way…”

 

Blitzo slid down the banister, guilt on his face.

 

Verosika kicked a pole away, allowing herself to sit next to Blitzo, legs dangling.

 

“No snarky comeback?” she asked.

 

“No,” Blitzo said, regret on his face. “You’re right. I actually am, you know, sorry. I-I don’t wanna be this way. Not forever.”

 

Verosika looked thoughtful, then smirked as she looked down. “Looks like Stolas is having a good time.”

 

“Yeah, well he needs it.”

 

Stolas danced with the incubus who leaped up happily in the air. Before long, they both started making out and moaning, their two long tongues intertwining.

 

Blitzo froze with shocked wide eyes.

 

Verosika smirked wider. “Ooh, a really good time!”

 

Blitzo fumed, “OH THAT BIRD-STEALING COCKBAG!”

 

“Hold it, Blitz,” said Verosika, “You know, if you wanna change, it just starts with saying, ‘good for him, hope he gets laid.’” Blitzo angrily gripped the bars of the railing, feeling trapped, exhausted, and heartbroken.

 

Blitzo then paused. “You…you said my name right…why?”

 

Verosika smirked. “No need to dwell on the past. Here, have some cake, fuckwad.”

 

She handed him his heart on a plate…a cake piece shaped like his heart with a fork in it, the black frosting spilling like blood. There was his wounded heart out in the open. He realized that the one who deserved to be at the party the most was…himself. His hidden self-loathing had been holding him back all along. It was as if Verosika was giving him his heart, reminding him to love himself first.

 

Verosika strolled away, feeling a new form of release from Blitzo.

 

Blitzo put down the uneaten piece, put his hood over his head and somberly walked back downstairs.

 

The succubus witch and the cheerleader succubus were dancing and laughing. Blitzo glanced to the side and spotted a purple incubus dressed as a vampire wiping his eyes in sadness before guzzling down a bottle of alcohol. A horned demon with thick black hair and a succubus ripped open the Blitzo pinata together, spilling candy onto the floor. They embraced and kissed near a “Halloween is skeleton” poster with a witch on it. The demon dressed like Beatlejuice was comforting a crying demon after he tossed a knife at the Blitzo cardboard cutout on the wall.

 

Blitzo glanced one last time at Stolas dancing with the “better than Blitzo” incubus. Stolas looked happier than he had ever seen him. “Maybe this is for the best,” he thought. “Stolas deserves it more than me.”

 

Blitzo lowered his head in sadness before heading out the door. He walked down the candle-lit stairs, passing by an incubus dressed as a sailor talking with another incubus. Near a female imp dressed as a black cat, Wally Wackford was selling t-shirts labeled “I H8 Blitzo,” and “Blitzo KYS” with a crying Blitzo emoji. He wore a hat with a dead Blitzo face on it. An imp in a black shirt happily pulled out some dollar bills.

 

Blitzo, angry and hurt, got back into his van, tossing aside the sheet. He turned on the radio and a Verosika song played: “I’m Over You.” Blitzo banged his head on the car horn in frustration, the honking sound echoing through the night.