Let the Good Times Rolo
@colormecandy
Alastor found that rumors were often steeped in some semblance of fact...not always mind you. One of the rumors was that he was a glutton...and that was fairly true. He loved food, always had. Hell was an interesting place to try foods, numerous eras mixed and molding together allowing you to try things hundreds of years passed or decades into the future if you could find their creators.
He also had a tendency to love a good hunt in any form...finding a business was indeed one such hunt. So when Angel returned to the hotel one evening toting a bag of some sweets of all things, he had to suffer nearly five sexual innuendos before he got a vague hint as to what district the spider had gotten it from.
It wasn’t a difficult search, and before long the tall demon stood before a doorway to what was clearly a sweets shop...differing from the ones he knew, but then again he hadn’t recognized the sweets Angel carried at all, with a click of a heel and an ever growing smile he opened the door and began to let out a chipper, “Hel-” but stopped mid-way through, curiosity killed the cat alright as he fell silent and just looked, ears perked at all the new.
He recognized the general theme, it was more commonplace in other sectors of the pentagram sure, it was oh what...mid-century? After his day and age, when gentle art-deco exploded into chrome and a mix of softer and bolder colors. But, red eyes finally landed on the owner...or attendant to the shop, that smile grew again, finally repeating himself.
“Hello my good fellow!”
