Mae West & Cary Grant

Oh,  this  was  priceless.  He  loved  finding  just  the  right  button  to  press  to  make  Vox  shut  his  silly  mouth,  though  Alastor's  enjoyment  came  most  from  the  sputtering  he'd  do  afterwards,  and  then  observing  the  attempts  to  save  face  after.  Seems  like  he  should  hone  in  on  this  a  bit  more,  go  in  for  the  kill;  it  was  the  least  Vox  could  allow  after  bothering  him  so  rudely  via  this  televised  intrusion.

“  Our  fine  establishment  would  never  be  sullied  by  such  filth,  after  all,  we  have  the  best  housekeeping  that  Hell  could  provide!  ”  A  true  statement  in  his  eyes,  as  Niffty  was  more  than  capable  of  doing  the  work  an  entire  team  would  struggle  to  do.  She  was  a  remarkable  little  thing,  and  frankly,  more  should  follow  her  work  ethic.  “  Oh,  but  I  digress!  An  eye  on  the  competition,  you  say?  ”

Upon  the  end  of  his  sentence,  he  crouches  down  to  be  within  ‘eye-level’,  placing  his  head  in  his  hands.  Vox  made  this  so  easy.  “  I  thought  you  said  radio  was  a  thing  of  the  past,  and  now  suddenly  I  find  myself  in  competition  of  the  oh  so  glorious  modern  programming!  To  what  do  I  owe  that  honor,  hm?  Or,  could  it  be  that  you're  just  a  teensy  bit…  ”

His  eyes  widen  as  he  grins  maniacally.  “  Paranoid?  ”  He  accused  with  uproarious  humor,  digging  in  his  metaphorical  claws  in  further.  “  Good.  You  should  be,  as  I  plan  on  sticking  around  for  quite  some  time…  my  viewership  will  only  increase  in  numbers,  and  with  it,  a  widespread  fear  of  incurring  my  wrath.  Oh,  just  you  wait.  ”

With  that,  he  stands,  walking  away  with  a  little  wiggling  of  his  fingers.  “  This  has  been  quite  riveting,  but  I'm  afraid  our  time  is  up!  Don't  worry,  though…  you  can  tune  into  my  show  as  usual.  I'm  always  on  around  noon,  but  I'm  sure  you're  well  aware~!  ”

Vox's grin had begun to fade as the misstep of his snipe became realized, fully snapping into a frown as they came face-to-face.

Safe inside the shell of TV, real body miles away, it doesn't stop the unpleasant feeling at the intense gaze. Words die on his tongue, with the uncomfortable sensation of hot air streaming from his vents. Trapped within his clothes, futile in its effort to cool his warming system.

Paranoid? Far from it, Vox was not paranoid.

The threat of viewership was meaningless; in spite of his feeble cover-up he knew there was never going to be a future in radio. The idea of widespread terror was nothing special, typical even. 

The promise of sticking around? That made something ill rest heavy in the pit of his stomach.

Several childish attacks spring to mind: fuck you, you antique piece of shit! Being the most prevalent. It was pitiful; it couldn't save him from the hole he dug. Vox only manages a humorless chuckle when distance is placed between them. “ Oh I'll be sure to, and hey, consider it an incentive! ”

“ When I tune in, I'll be expecting more than your usual boring, piss poor quality. Go on and try to back-up those claims of yours. ” With that, the TV flickers off as his projection exits from the lobby; he'll find time to hate himself for this later-

Around noon tomorrow, same time as always.