#anyways hopefully the formatting is fixed i went into html itself to do so

[youcouldbeit]

Charlie is always glad when someone sings along with her, even if she's somewhat unawares that not everyone has a choice in the matter. She always thought that song was a good way to see what the other's all about, and this time certainly no exception. While she has to confess his motives aren't quite up to the altruistic snuff, Heaven wasn't built in a day. ...Or was it?

She doesn't have time to think that over, of course, scepter twirling in full-swing as the synth score fades and is replaced with the 'heavenly' sound of harps and trumpets interspersed. Charlie slides along the coins behind him, taking Vox's hand as she passes to pull him along the sudden slope.

There's a grand gesture toward said building as they're outside the Hotel now, spotlights firing off into the sky. Pink and red lights searching the skies before honing in on a promised land that most of Hell only remembered because of their current location, rather than any hope of being amongst the angels. Pentagrams of those lights seeming to sizzle the distant clouds before flames pop up here and there.

"I know it seems like a far-off dream A crapshoot and a hope for the naive But maybe if we get the help of the V's It's just a bit closer than it may seem."

A flick of the wrist, a grandiose gold-trimmed letter appearing in her hand before it pops open to reveal a letter from 'Heaven', telling the recipient that they're going straight down with no recourse.

"So why don't we take their silly letter Calling you some sort of has-been Because you've done some little sin And send it right back to sender!"

She's tearing the letter apart, throwing it over her shoulders as she takes Vox's hands, spinning them both around to face out to the city; Hotel at their backs as the final chorus began. They're in the Garden again, the Hazbin Hotel fronted by that tree as apple falls to their outstretched hand. Music swelling, both synth and angelic intermingled, as they're flanked at either side by their facsimiles.

"So just take our hand We've got a plan that's just grand This Hotel may be for sinners But they're sure to be winners!

So take a chance on us Our cause is just Their lives never the same As they climb to newfound fame!"

The 'Heaven' in the sky bursts into pink, red and blue fireworks; popping the Hotel and Garden in brilliant colors as the song comes to an end.

They're back in the lobby again, as if that song had never happened, and Charlie is still gently lowering Vox's phone down with brilliant smile on her face.

"So, yeah, I can handle the musical aspect all by myself. As you just, um, clearly saw!"

There isn't much time to question the sudden transformation of the environment around him - and as drastic as it may be, he's nowhere nearly as shocked as he'd expect himself to be. Something about the nature of the musical outburst simply feels natural, just another part of reality's fabric.

The overlord doesn't hesitate to reach out to take her hand - or rather, the music wouldn't allow any hesitation. As soon as contact is made, pink flame moves harmlessly over Vox's body, to give him a slight makeover: the pinstripe tuxedo is replaced with a double-breasted suit in solid navy blue, the red-and-black waistcoat now matching that same single shade, paired with a red pocket square and black tie. All this is completed with a matching blue-and-red trilby - though notably much more two dimensional than Charlie's.

The television demon, without any need for prompting, moves into a swing dance, ducking down to twirl underneath the princess's hand before they begin to sing in turn. As the overlord opens his mouth, a synth score starts to accompany the jazzy, upbeat tune.

"This is a production Voxtek is proud to sponsor You know I'll do anything just to meet my target This number is step one to cornering the market If this is the kind of musical you can conjure!"

As he twirls away from Charlie, the background behind Vox now resembles the gold-and-pearl gates of Heaven itself, resting on a field of white clouds but twisted into ornate designs of interweaving currency symbols and his corporation's logo. Shimmering pennies rain down in slow motion his own chorus line of electric-blue Vox simulacra manifesting behind him to sing along.

"So just take my hand I've got a plan that's just grand This hotel's a faulty product That I can make the hottest!

So take a chance on me Just you wait and see I'll beat Al at his game And soar to newfound fame!"

With that chorus mirrored back and arms spread out wide like he's presenting his vision as coins start to pile up around him until they begin to form a Scrooge McDuck-esque pool up to his waist, "control" of the scene leaves Vox as quickly as it came to him, swinging back over to Charlie.