Scene: The entranceway of the Hazbin Hotel. Alastor and Lucifer stand facing each other, with Charlie anxiously watching nearby.
Alastor: (with a sly grin) Ah, if it isn't the King of Hell himself, gracing us with his 'divine' presence. Tell me, Lucifer, does the crown ever get heavy, or is it as hollow as your promises?
Lucifer: (smirking) Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon. I'm surprised you've managed to tune in to our frequency. I would have thought someone of your... 'station' would struggle with the reception up here.
Alastor: Oh, I always find a way to be heard, Lucifer. It's a talent to rise above the static. Speaking of static, how's the old throne? Still managing to keep it warm, or has the fire gone out?
Lucifer: (chuckling) Your wit is as sharp as ever, but I'm afraid you're broadcasting on the wrong frequency. Unlike some, I don't need tricks and theatrics to maintain my standing.
Charlie: (interrupting, trying to defuse) Okay, okay, that's enough! Dad, Alastor, can we please focus on what's important here? We're trying to create a place of redemption, not a battleground for egos!
Alastor: (turning to Charlie) My dear Charlie, you're absolutely right. It's not often one sees a flower trying to bloom in a field of weeds. (glances at Lucifer) No offense to the weeds, of course.
Lucifer: (also turning to Charlie) Of course, Charlie, your ambition is commendable. It's not every day someone tries to polish the tarnish off of Hell's finest. (eyes Alastor) Though some tarnish is too deep to ever really shine.
Charlie: (sighs) Thanks, I think? Can we get back to work now?