Who's who list:
St. Anger = Risotto Nero
Blackbird = Ghiaccio
Aoxomoxoa = Prosciutto
Good Vibrations = Pesci
Thriller = Illuso
Playlist = Melone
Willin' = Formaggio
Truly = Gelato
Deeply = Sorbet

Loona sat at her desk, thumbing at her hellphone as the I.M.P. company line rang, harsh and piercing. The wolfess paid it no mind; working where she did, tuning out shrill, irritating sounds was a well-used talent. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a black-gloved hand reach out, seemingly from nowhere, to lift the phone off the receiver, cutting off the ringing, only to set it back down. Loona glanced up from her phone to see a tall, muscular harlequin looming over her, a dour look on his face. His outfit was black leather and gunmetal gray silk, the skin of his face was alabaster with black spindle patterns slashing across his eyes, up his forehead and down his cheeks. He locked her with a ruby-red glare, his pupils glowing pits against the obsidian black of his eyes. The only sound in the room was the unpleasant keening jingle from the mirror-silver bells that hung from the many horns of his cap.

"Hey," she grunted, cocking an eyebrow. "Did I black out or something? Where did you come from?"

"I've been standing here for several minutes."

Her eyes shifted back to her phone. "Cool."

"I would like to speak with your boss."

"Aight."

The dark jester's brow furrowed and the phone was yanked from her paws. "Hey!"

The phone hung in the air before crumpling in on itself, thin slivers of metal exuding from it and spelling the word 'NOW' in the air.

"Ugh. Show-off," said Loona, rolling her eyes. "Fine. HEY! BLITZO!"

"What?!" Came the belated reply.

"There's some twunk-lookin' clown here to see you!" She turned back to him, noticing his scowl. "What? C'mon. You look like Pennywise and Ronald McDonald had a goth-baby."

"…Tell me. Have you ever violently expelled razorblades from every orifice on your body?"

Loona blinked, taken aback. "…No?"

"Would you like to?"

Loona felt a tickle in her throat, a strange itching pressure that was fast on its way to becoming a stinging pain.

"Oh! Hey! A new customer!" Blitzo crowed, appearing next to the ominous clown. "I see you've met my receptionist. Isn't she great?

The tall, well-built jester-demon regarded the horned imp for a moment. "You would be Blitzo, correct?"

"Actually it's Blitzo. The 'o' is silen–" Blitzo blinked in surprise. "Oh, nevermind, you got it right. How can I help you?"

"I would like to–"

"Oh! Wow!" Blitzo interrupted, framing the clown's face with his fingers. "Has anyone told you how handsome you are? Because you are. You look just… like…"

Blitzo's eyes went wide, mouth hanging open. He turned to Loona, a huge smile on his face, hopping in place as he flapped his hands in excitement. "St. Anger! It's St. Anger! St. Anger is in my office!"

"Your name is 'St. Anger'?" Loona snorted.

"Yes. Because 'Magnetic Death' seemed a bit on-the-nose," said St. Anger, turning back to Blitzo as he danced with excitement. "Are you done?"

"Not quite, gimme a second," said Blitzo, pointing at the towering demon. "St. Anger, Loona!"

"And I should care why?"

Blitzo gasped in shock, shooting St. Anger an apologetic look. "Excuse my silly, ignorant receptionist's insulting stupidity, sir! Loona! He's only the leader of the most illustrious, famous, and downright deadly squad of assassins in all of Hell! La Squadra Esecuzioni!"

"Ugh. Is Moxxie gonna have to grab the spunk-mop or do you think you can keep your pants on?"

Blitzo laughed and waved her off, turning back to St. Anger. "Oh-ho-ho you! She has a point though. It's a good thing I just jacked off, because I'd be throwing up a no-arm salute right now, if you catch my drift! Ha-ha! Oh! Right!" Blitzo extended his right hand to St. Anger. "Allow me to formally introduce myself! I'm Blitzo, owner and leader of the Immediate Murder Professionals! Put 'er there!"

The dour-faced clown said nothing, ruby eyes flicking down the extended hand.

"Oh, ha! Don't worry!" Blitzo chuckled and waved at him with his other hand. "I'm left-handed!"

St. Anger's lip curled in disgust.

Blitzo clapped his hands together and snapped his fingers. "So! What brings you here, sir? Ooh! Sorry, do you like to be called 'sir'? Howsabout pal? Buddy? Brother?"

"...Sir will do."

Blitzo cocked and eyebrow, studying the sour expression on jester's face. "Eh? Oh. OH! I gotcha! Say no more. Wink-wink! So, sir, what brings you here? Job offer? Apprenticeship? You wanna bring me into the fold of famous super-assassins? Well, I'm flattered, but I'm gonna have to think on it. I gotta squad of my own here, you see. A botherhood. A family. I can't just give that up!"

"What."

"Okay! You twisted my arm! I'll do it! When works for you? I can pack my things," his snapped his fingers, "Like that!"

St. Anger turned to Loona. "Is there anyone else I can talk to?"

Blitzo hopped up and put his arm over St. Anger's shoulders, rubbing his cheek against his. "'Fraid not! So, how's Wednesday work for you? I gotta rig this place to burn but in a way that seems like an electrical thing. I put A LOT of money down on this place, money I don't have as I'm horrifically in debt, so I need to make it look like an accident."
St. Anger pushed the clingy imp off of him and sighed. "We want to use your portals to get to earth. We're willing to pay."

Blitzo blinked in surprise and shook his head. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Now, I dig that you're coming to me for help, I mean, what are friends for, am I right? But, see, I gotta say 'no'. Really, I'd like to help, but letting another service use our portals? I mean, what would people think? We gotta maintain the appearance of a friendly rivalry to the public, y'know? Keep people thinking IMP and La Squadra Esecuzioni are neck-in-neck rivals so they'll be constantly comparing our highly comparable skills, right? Can't have 'em knowing we're best buds, it'd ruin the illusion!"

St. Anger pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, reaching into his chest pocket and pulling out a checkbook. "Look. I'm going to write a check with a very large number on it. I will give it to you on the condition that La Squadra Esecuzioni is permitted to use your portals... and that you never speak to me again."

"I'll have you know that, like you, I'm a professional! I have integrity. Honor! It'll take more than a few zeroes to bu–" Blitzo said, taking the check, his eyes snapping wide as he read the preposterous sum, "–UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHH…"

St. Anger turned from the entranced, drooling imp to the acerbic hellhound behind the desk. "Is he always like this?"

"This is a good day."

"Where are those other two? Maybe one of them is sane enough to…" St. Anger turned back to see Millie perched on Blitzo's shoulder, her eyes wide and sparkling as she harmonized with her boss. "This was a terrible idea."

"Millie, could you help me in with this?" Moxxie said as he struggled through the door, dragging a bloody burlap sack. "What are you doing? Is that a capella? I thought we were doing a barbershop quartet for the talent show!"

The little imp jumped with a squeak upon seeing St. Anger. "I-is that–?"

"St. Anger," the towering demon said, arms crossed. "My team and I will be using your company's portals."

"S-sounds good," stammered Moxxie, rivulets of sweat pouring down his face. "Uh… may I ask what for?"

"You may not."

"Th-that's fair," Moxxie whimpered.

"Hey, hey, hey now!" Blitzo interjected, zipping between St. Anger and a hyperventilating Moxxie. "No one's agreed to anything!"

"Then give me back the check."

Blitzo regarded the check, eyes dancing over the astonishing line of zeros upon it. "Ugh! Fine! On one condition!"

St. Anger sighed and crossed his arms. "Let's hear it."

"You can use our portals to get to earth if," Blitzo scooped up Millie and Moxie under his arms. "We get to come with you."

St. Anger's red-within-black eyes snapped open wide, his stoic demeanor momentarily faltering. "Absolutely not."

"Too bad," Blitzo said, plucking the check from the hands of an astonished Moxxie and handing it back to St. Anger. "Here you go."

St. Anger's eyes narrowed, a dull keening filled the air. Powerful electromagnetic waves thrummed and the lights flickered, St. Anger held his arms out in front of him, his steel-clad boots leaving the floor as he hung in the air. The bells on his cowl sang their terrible, painful song as they popped off their housings. The light reflecting off their mirror surfaces stung and burned the imp's eyes; they were made from Seraphic steel. The bells spun in the air, the jingling becoming a shrill, painful cry as the spheres spun faster, and faster, and faster still. The air around them glowed star-hot as the bells spun at near lightspeed, their relativistic effects warping space and time until the immutable, indestructible spheres flattened and elongated into white-blue discs of pure light. Wallpaper browned and wooden furniture smoldered as waves of brutal heat radiated from the eight shrieking bells.

Moxxie and Millie clutched each other and cowered as Blitzo watched, starry-eyed adulation on his face. "So… cool…"

Loona thumbed through her second hellphone, not even looking at the light display. "S'alright."

St. Anger levitated towards them, eyes blazing pits of red light as his eight deadly discs thrummed and sang, cutting the air itself. "Perhaps I should just kill you all and take the grimoire, hmm?"

Blitzo scoffed and waved him off. "Angie, Angie, Angie… if that was on the table we'd be dead already! Sorry to hardball you, brother, but if you want IMP's portals, you gotta take the full package!"

St. Angie glared at Blitzo for a moment, his bells twitching and sparking as they spun at reality-shattering speeds. He sighed and shook his head, the bells ceased their infernal spinning as his plated boots set down on the scorched wood floor.

"You're not nearly as stupid as you let on, Blitzo," St. Anger said, offering his hand. "I accept your terms."

Blitzo pumped his fist and reached out, taking his hand. A shudder of energy passed between them, the contract was sealed.

"Great! So! When do we head out? I still wanna do that 'accidental' fire thing."

"Right now. My team grows impatient."

Blitzo and the other imps looked around. "Your team is here?"

St. Anger brushed a quartet of of specks off his shoulder. Before their boots even touched the ground, they had expanded in size from motes to demons. Standing to St. Anger's left was a diminutive mouse-demon, a dryad in a suit, a pale leather-clad demon with blades for fingers, and a blonde-haired torso with a thicket of tentacles where its lower half should be.

"Allow me to introduce Willin', Truly, Deeply, and Aoxomoxoa."

The jester-demon shook his head, allowing the light to catch on one of the bells' mirror surface. A dull keening sounded and four more demons appeared; a raven-demon with dreadlocks, a bright white cat-demon in a cryogenic suit, a demon with a computer-monitor for a head, and a short, roundish anglerfish demon, who promptly collapsed to the ground and vomited.

"Jeez, Good Vibrations!" Aoxomoxoa grumbled. "We're trying to make an impression here!"

"Sorry, Big Bro…" Good Vibrations muttered. "I just… the spinning… HUUURCK!"

"Yeah, maybe don't do your killer bells thing when we're still in them, okay Boss?" The raven-demon said.

"Apologies, Thriller," St. Anger said, gesturing to each of the demons. "And Blackbird, Playlist, and on the ground is Good Vibrations."

"Pleased to meet HYYYOUGH!"

Blitzo clapped and giggled, turning to Moxxie. "Can you believe this? La Squadra Esecuzioni is in our office!"

"I can see that, sir," Moxxie said, eyes darting about at the cabal of deadly assassins. "Having trouble with the 'believing' part, though."

"Oh, lighten up, Moxxie! This is an excellent opportunity for us!" Blitzo draped an arm over Moxxie's shoulder, pulling him in close as he gestured widely at La Squadra Esecuzioni. "See 'em in action! Their style! Their modus operandi! Learning from the best!"

"A great opportunity to get killed, maybe!" Moxxie growled, slapping his arm from his shoulder. "And they're 'the best' for a reason, sir! They slaughtered the competition!"

"Right? You can only be the best if the rest dies! See? We're already learning so much!"

Moxxie attempted to formulate a response, but gave up and rubbed his temples. "Well, we're in it now, sir. What's the job?"

"Great question, Mox!" Blitzo turned to St. Anger. "Hey Angie! What are we up to?"

Willin crossed his arms and snickered. "Yeah, 'Angie'. Tell 'em what the take is."

St. Anger's mouth twisted into a snarl, his eye twitching, before he calmed himself, rubbing his forehead. "We're going to steal the Saint's Corpse."

Moxxie and Millie gasped, their yellow eyes wide with shock, Blitzo laughed and turned back to his stunned cohorts. "Hear that? So cool, right? …What's the Saint's Corpse?"