666 News Station, 7 minutes before the end of the last chapter

Charlie, the princess of Hell, has had a bit of a bad day to say the least. Her plan to run a hotel that rehabilitates demons so that they can get to heaven has been met with humiliating laughter and ridicule. Katie Killjoy, the lead anchordemon, is a total bitch.

Killjoy: What in the nine circles makes you think any denizen of hell gives two shits about becoming a better person? You have no proof that this little experiment even works! You want people to be good just....because?

More laughter goes though the crowd as Charlie looks dejected before a thought crosses her mind, causing her to smirk.

Charlie: Well, we have a patron already, who believes in our cause and has shown incredible progress

Katie Killjoy's neck snaps towards her.

Killjoy: Oh? And who would that be?

Felling a bit more confident, Charlie pretends to check under her fingernails

Charlie: Just someone named: Angel Dust.

The second Anchordemon, Tom Trench, perks up at the name.

Tom: The porn star?

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, as Katie turns towards him, her nails scratching the desk.

Killjoy: You fucking would, Tom. In any case, that's not even an accomplishment. I'm sure you could get that hooker to do anything with enough booger sugar and lube.

Charlie: Oh, I beg to differ. He's been behaved, clean and out of trouble for two weeks now.

Suddenly, Katie Killjoy gets an alert from her earpiece and smiles. Pushing Charlie to the side, she grabs her papers.

Killjoy: We are recieving word that a new player has entered the turf war along with that mysterious Fox. Let's go to the feed.

Live feed comes through on the green screen behind Charlie. It depicts a feminine, but still male figure firing a Tommy gun from one pair of his arms and then throwing a grenade.

Charlie's look drops immediately.

Charlie: Oh shit.

Killjoy: Oh shit indeed. How does it feel to be a total failure?

Charlie looks down, before turning her gaze back to Katie Killjoy and grabbing a pen from the desk.

Charlie: Well how does it feel that I took your pen, bitch?

Current time

Nyar watches as Charlie and Katie Killjoy fight on the screen, a chuckle building in his chest. Once Tom runs across the screen while on fire, he bursts out laughing. Snapping his fingers, a book drops into his hands; a book bound in human leather to be specific.

Giggling to himself, he pulls a pen out of his pocket.

Nyar: So much to learn, so much to meddle with~!

He starts scribbling in ancient Arabian and drawing being beyond human comprehension. He barely notices the short demon running up to him

???: YOINK!

The demon runs off, Necronomicon in hand. As he turns the corner, Nyarlothatep is standing there, his smile now forced.

Nyar: Did I say you could touch that you insignificant slime?

A tentacle sprouts from Nyar's chest and wraps around the demon's throat before it has a chance to react Nyar walks forward towards the nameless demon and allows a mind shattering amount of knowledge into the beings mind before dropping it

???: GAH! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU!? GET AWAY FROM ME!

The broken fear present in the demon's eyes is enough to cause Nyar to laugh a sinister, inhuman laugh while the demon scrambled away in horror.

Nyar: Oh, you're not getting away that easily.

As the demon turns away from Nyar while running, he bumps into someone and falls backward. He looks up to see...... Nyarlothatep, holding a knife in his hand.

Nyar: Boo.

The demon screams in fear and collapses to the ground, causing Nyar to stop.

Nyar: What? You've already given up? That takes all the fun out of this!

Turning around, Nyar walks away and pouts.

A white limo drives by, and Nyar kicks a can. Immediately afterwards, a flier smacks into his face.

Nyar:....Immediate Murder Professionals. Sounds fun!

If someone was walking past, they would have heard the sound of distortion.

I.M.P headquarters

Standing outside the building, Nyar steps towards the double doors. Before he even knocks, a female hellhound runs out and across the street to kick a stroller passing by.

Nyar: Oh, that was unexpected.

She turns around and Nyar gets a better look at her.

???: What're you looking at, dipshit?

Nyar: I have no idea. All I see is an edgy furry, but looks can be deceiving. I'm looking for a job.

???: No

Nyar: This place specializes in murder, correct? I can murder, make it look like suicide, or manipulate someone else into doing the killing and still get the credit.

The girl growls in annoyance.

???: I'm not the one in charge. That would be Blitzo, the annoying jackass clown(The O is silent).

Nyar let's out a chuckle and walks into the building, leaving a certain angry hellhound outside.

Inside the building

Humming a happy time to himself, Nyar dance-walks through the halls. Once he gets halfway down the hall, he slides a step before going into a normal walk, not skipping a beat.

???: How the hell are we supposed to get this Epstien guy in his cell!? The place is basically impenetrable, and it's one of the few places in the human world with an anti-magic barrier around it!

Nyar stops mid-step and smiles; an idea popping into his head. Taking a running start, Nyar leaps into the air and kicks down the door with a dropkick.

Nyar: I heard you're having trouble with killing someone

Three imps turn around to look at Nyar. There's a tall one with no hair, and two shorter ones: a male and a female. The tall one speaks up first.

???And who the hell are you supposed to be?

Appearing behind the tall one, Nyar draws a business card from thin air and hands it to the tall one.

Nyar: Name's Nyarlothatep, but your tounge can't comprehend that, so just call me Nyar! Nice to meet you in this chaotic city of rampant destruction!

The short male imp goes to say something, but his mouth is zipped shut in an instant.

Nyar: You see, I have a set of skills that can help greatly in this operation. If you hire me, I'll only take about 5%.you all can have the rest(God knows you need it).

An undignified Yelp sounds from the short male, and Nyar removes the zipper with a flick of his hand.

Nyar: So, do we have a deal?