Charlie and Barnaby found themselves outside of Queen Bee's palace. The scents was coming from inside. Barnaby began to feel discomfort. "Charlie, I don't feel so good about this. The last time I went to a party was for my cousin's birthday when I was 10. She was 16 that year. Two years later she died and a month later the barnacle zombie apocalypse happened."
Charlie looked at Barnaby, her expression softening from excitement to deep empathy. She reached out, hovering a hand near his shoulder but giving him space.
"Oh, Barnaby... I’m so sorry," she said softly, her voice barely cutting through the rhythmic thumping of the bass. "I know this is a lot. The Gluttony Ring is... well, it’s everything all at once. It’s loud, it’s bright, and it’s a little desperate for a good time."
She looked up at the towering, honeycomb walls of Beelzebub's Mansion. "But Queen Bee isn't just about the party. She’s about the vibe, the feeling of 'more.' If anyone knows how to handle a parasitic hunger—even a biological one—it’s her. We need her help to get you back to your world and Shamu's."
Barnaby shook his head. "I'm just not a party person. I mean, I used to enjoy family birthday parties but it sounds like a circus in there!" Barnaby then spotted a few dog people walking into the building. "Uh, oh, more dog folk. I was chased by a few when you first saw me hiding inside your hotel. They tried to mug me!"
"Hey, it's okay! Those were just some rowdy Sinners in Pride," Charlie whispered quickly, stepping between him and the passing Hellhounds. "Down here in Gluttony, the dog folk are mostly just here to eat and dance. They’re under Bee’s roof, so they have to stay chill."
Barnaby adjusted the strap of his kit, his eyes darting toward a group of tall, furry demons laughing near a fountain of lava-honey. "I don't know, Charlie. In 2040, 'chill' is just what you are before you’re cold. This many people in one place... it’s a target. If the barnacle could infect those dog people, this place would be ground zero! Good thing it is an Earth-only disease that can't get down here. This place is a buffet for the barnacles."
"I assure you no one is getting infected from the barnacles here." Charlie assured.
"Okay, we'd better go inside with the dog people." Barnaby was about to step forward.
"Oh! Barnaby, wait," Charlie said, gently catching his arm before he could advance. "We don't really call them 'dog folk' here. They’re Hellhounds! They’re actually the most common citizens of the Gluttony Ring."
She gave a small, reassuring smile, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders. "I know the ones in Pentagram City were scary—the Pride Ring brings out the worst in everyone—but here, they’re just... well, they're part of the party! They’re Bee’s people. They aren't looking for a fight; they’re looking for a snack and a good beat."
Barnaby looked at the towering, furry figures passing by, their ears twitching to the heavy bass. To him, they still look ed like predators, but he forced himself to take a breath of the honey-thick air. "Hellhounds," Barnaby repeated, the word feeling heavy. "That's what dog's infected with the barnacle are called on Earth. It's a nightmare that haunts you after you lay eyes upon such beasts."
He watched a group of Hellhounds walk past, their laughter sounding like barking snarls to his traumatized ears. "Back home, if you see a 'hellhound,' it means the pack has turned, and you have about ten seconds to find high ground before the barnacles start whistling in your direction."
Charlie winced, her heart aching for the soldier. "I promise, Barnaby, these guys are different. No barnacles, no infections—just a lot of fur and an appetite for cotton candy."
"If you say so." Barnaby nodded. "Let's go in and complete this mission."
Charlie gave him a thumbs-up, though her smile was tight with worry. "That’s the spirit! Just... try not to shoot anyone if they offer you a cupcake."
"Don't worry, ma'am. I am not firing my rifle at anyone. Like you said, they are just having a good time." As they pushed through the final set of amber doors, the Gluttony Ring's chaos hit them like a physical wall. The interior of Beelzebub's Mansion was a kaleidoscope of pulsing lava-honey and floating platforms. Thousands of Hellhounds were howling along to a bassline that made the air itself shimmer.
High above the crowd, Queen Bee-lzebub was mid-air, her four arms juggling glowing bottles of Beelzejuice. She spotted the Princess and the soldier, her wings buzzing with a frequency that cut through the music. She dove down, landing in front of them with a fluid, liquid grace, her size shifting until she was looking Barnaby right in the eye.
"Whoa, Charlie! You didn't tell me your guest was bringing such a... heavy vibe," Bee said, her ears twitching as she sniffed the air around Barnaby. Her expression shifted from party-mode to genuine curiosity. "You smell like salt and old shadows, little guy. And I can feel a hunger coming off you that isn't for snacks. It’s for... home?"
Barnaby stood his ground, his hand resting near his sidearm. "I'm Barnaby. I'm here because my world is dying, and I need to get back to Earth before the barnacles infect everyone." he said through his gasmask. He was glad he was wearing one because he didn't want the other hellhounds he was a living human.
Bee’s multiple eyes widened, her glow flickering to a concerned shade of blue. "Barnacles? That sounds like a total buzzkill for a whole planet."
Barnaby adjusted the seal on his mask, his voice muffled but steady. "I'll make it brief. There is a parasitic barnacle that spreads its eggs around in the air and when people breathe it in, it takes control of their bodies turning them into zombies. On Earth, it is my job to dispose of the infected to prevent others from getting sick. That is the reason why I like to wear this gasmask, besides me not wanting the hellhounds to smell a living human is walking here."
Queen Bee stopped hovering, her feet touching the honey-slicked floor as her glowing mane flickered to a dim, sickly violet. The surrounding party-goers felt the shift in her "vibe," and the music seemed to lose its punch.
"Whoa," Bee whispered, her four ears drooping. "So they’re like... empty shells? Just meat being used by a bug? That’s the ultimate buzzkill, Barnaby. No feelings, no fun, just... consumption."
"You're exactly right, ma'am." Barnaby said.
Queen Bee winced, her wings giving a sympathetic flutter. "Don't 'ma'am' me, sugar. It makes me feel like a fossil! Just call me Bee." She turned, her long, fox-like tail swishing through the air as she gestured for them to follow her toward a private, shimmering elevator made of hardened amber.
As they stepped inside, the muffled roar of the party faded, replaced by a low, rhythmic thrumming. "So," Bee said, her multiple eyes fixed on Barnaby’s mask. "If these things are airborne, your world must be pretty lonely."
Barnaby looked at his reflection in the golden walls. "On Earth, isolation is a state of bliss, where you know nobody infected is there to ruin your life." He paused. "Sorry if I sound like a downer bee, it's just that your palace is merely a faded memory of what my country used to be like."
"Don't apologize, sugar," Bee said, her glowing mane softening to a warm, sunset orange. She leaned her chin on one of her four hands, watching him with genuine empathy. "I get it. To you, this isn't a party; it’s a ghost of a world that didn't have to break. It’s hard to enjoy the noise when you're still listening for the silence of a grave."
Charlie reached out, gently touching Barnaby’s armored sleeve. "We're going to make sure that 'faded memory' becomes a reality again. We're not just here for a tour; we're here to get you back to Earth and figure out how to stop those parasites from taking everything else."
Barnaby added, "Charlie and I are also asking if you can create a portal to the year 1985 as well. There are--uh--this is going to sound weird...We are looking for a killer whale named Shamu and his crew and they are considered defenders against the barnacle. If we can find them, we are one step closer to purging the barnacle."
"1985? A killer whale?" Bee blinked all her eyes at once, her wings buzzing in a confused, chaotic hum. "Sugar, I’ve heard of 'big eaters,' but a multi-ton sea mammal from the eighties? That is a retro craving if I’ve ever heard one!"
Charlie stepped in, her hands gesturing excitedly. "It's true, Bee! Barnaby says Shamu and his crew are the key. They have some kind of natural resistance or... or a way to fight the infection! If we can get them from 1985 and bring them to Barnaby's 2040, we might actually save a whole world!"
Bee rubbed her chin with two of her hands while the other two tapped rhythmically on the glowing console. "A portal to the past and a jump to a specific 'alternate' Earth... that takes a massive amount of Beelzejuice. We're talking a 'party-of-the-century' level of energy."
She looked at Barnaby, her expression softening. "You're asking me to reach into the 'Before Times,' back when the world was loud for the right reasons. If this whale is the defender you say he is, his 'vibe' should be massive. Like a deep-sea bass drop."
Barnaby nodded solemnly. "Without Shamu and his crew, 2040 stays a graveyard. We need all the help we can get."
Queen Bee gave a sharp, appreciative whistle, her four arms shimmering as she stabilized the glowing, honey-like pool. "That’s the spirit! Most people dive in for the sugar high, but you're diving in for a whale-sized miracle. I dig it!"
Barnaby then asked her, "How much do I owe you for your help?"
Queen Bee let out a musical, buzzing laugh that shook the honey-gold walls of the VIP Hive. She floated down until her four-armed silhouette was level with Barnaby’s gas mask, her multiple eyes shimmering with amusement.
"Owe me? Sugar, I'm the Sin of Gluttony! I don't deal in soul-contracts or boring old bills like Mammon or that radio-demon creep you were hanging out with," she chirped, flipping backward in mid-air.
"Hang on, how did you know I was with Alastor?" Barnaby asked.
Bee let out a sharp, crackling cackle, her four ears twitching in sync with the bass. "Sugar, I’m the Sin of Gluttony! I don't just taste food—I taste vibes. And that Radio Demon has a 'vibe' that sticks to you like burnt hair and static!"
She leaned in, her nose scrunched up in a playful grimace. "Alastor’s energy is all... starvation. He’s a hollow broadcast, always hungry for a reaction but never actually 'full.' When you walked in here, you smelled like Charlie’s optimism and a whole lot of 1930s mothballs."
Charlie giggled, though she looked a little sheepish. "He is a bit distinct, Barnaby. Plus, news travels fast in Hell. A human staying at the Hazbin Hotel is the biggest 'flavor' of the week!"
"Exactly!" Bee chirped, her multiple eyes sparkling. "The Pride Ring is basically a giant fishbowl. If Alastor is poking at you with his cane, the whole Pentagram City knows about it within the hour. But don't worry—down here in Gluttony, we prefer our entertainment a bit more... fleshed out." She pointed toward the shimmering rift, where the 1985 ocean waves were crashing against a digital-looking shore. "Now, are you gonna keep chatting with a giant bee, or are you gonna go catch a killer whale?"
"Yes, Bee!" Barnaby soluted like he was in the armed forces. He paused, "Oops, sorry, Bee, I'm just used to taking orders from a higher up like I'm talking to a general.
"At ease, soldier!" Bee laughed, returning the salute with two of her four arms while the others juggled a stray bottle of Beelzejuice. "I’m probably the least 'General' Sin you’ll ever meet, but I dig the respect. It’s got a crisp, vintage flavor!"
Barnaby turned to Charlie, "Are you coming with me or does the hotel need you?"
Charlie looked at the shimmering rift, the salt air of 1985 tugging at her hair, and then back at the golden Gluttony Ring behind her. She sighed, her shoulders dropping slightly as reality set in.
"I... I can't, Barnaby," she admitted, her expression turning apologetic. "Vaggie and I have a staff meeting about the new trust-building exercises, and Alastor is... well, he's Alastor. If I leave the hotel for an inter-dimensional trip to the eighties without a plan, the whole place might be turned into a radio station by the time I get back."
She reached out and squeezed his armored hand. "But Bee is going to keep the portal anchored from this side, and I'll be waiting right here at the hotel for your return. You've got this! You're a soldier—you've survived 2040, so 1985 should be a breeze, right?"
Queen Bee nodded, her four arms steadying the glowing honey-rimmed rift. "She's right, big guy. The Princess has a kingdom to polish. But don't worry, I'll keep the 'Vibe-Link' open. Just jump in, find Shamu and his crew, and get back before my Beelzejuice reserves hit zero!"
Barnaby gave Charlie a sharp, respectful nod. "Understood, Princess. I'll bring the defenders of the future back with me. Mission starts now." Barnaby pulled out his military phone. "We can exchange numbers so we stay in contact."
"Brilliant idea!" Charlie chirped, her eyes lighting up as she quickly pulled out her own Hellphone. "I didn't think 2040 tech would be compatible with Hell-networks, but I guess Vox really did copy every signal in the multiverse!"
As they tapped their devices together, a strange, sparky static jumped between the sleek 2040 military glass and Charlie’s red-and-gold casing. The contact saved as 'The Princess' on Barnaby's encrypted screen.
"I'll keep my ringer on high," she promised, her expression turning serious. "If things get hairy in 1985—or if you find Shamu's crew—just send a ping. I'll have Vaggie and Bee ready to pull you back the second the mission is a go."
Barnaby secured the phone in a reinforced pouch on his chest. "Understood. Watch out for Alastor while I'm gone. That radio-static of his might interfere with the long-range comms."
Barnaby gave Queen Bee a final sharp salute and was about to step through the portal. BOOM! The whole ground shook. Barnaby crashed to the floor. He looked up and saw Charlie and Queen Bee also shaken up. A bald man in a gray suit appeared. "Vincent Harry!" Barnaby yelled. "You followed me all the way here?"
"You are not stepping through that @#$%ing portal!" Vincent's face was red with fury.
"So you don't want the Defenders of the Pacific ruining whatever your plans are." Barnaby said.
"None of you are stopping our plans. Your cousin found out before the barnacle and look what happened to her." Earth's head treasurer said. He was armed with a bazooka.
"You mean she was murdered!" Barnaby yelled. "I thought this whole time she ran away from home!"
"Of course that harlot ran away from home. She found out too much and I sent the order to get rid of her. Nothing personal. But hey, I found her this morning in the Pride Ring. Carrie Milestone is a sinner while your parents are winners. I can bring you to meet her again if you stay. Let the Earth go and stay here, where you'll be so much happier."
Barnaby shook his head. "Eat this, traitor!" Barnaby grabbed a bottle of Beezlejuice and threw it at him. He made a run for the portal.
The bottle of Beelzejuice shattered against Vincent’s expensive gray suit, the neon-pink liquid erupting like a sugary grenade. The high-potency energy of the Gluttony Ring hissed as it touched his mortal clothes, sending up a cloud of shimmering, sweet-smelling steam.
"GAH! It’s—it’s sticky!" Vincent roared, wiping the glowing goo from his eyes. The distraction was exactly what Barnaby needed.
"HEY!" Queen Bee shrieked, her mane flaring into a jagged, angry purple. "Nobody brings a bazooka to my party! You’re ruining the entire vibe, you bald buzzkill!" She snapped her four hands, and the gravity around Vincent began to warp, making the heavy weapon feel like it weighed a thousand pounds.
Charlie stood her ground, her eyes glowing a fierce, demonic red as her horns began to crown. "You murdered his cousin? You brought your Earthly greed into my home and threatened my guest?" Her voice dropped into a terrifying, guttural register. "Leave. Now."
Barnaby didn't look back. The revelation that Carrie was a Sinner in the Pride Ring burned in his chest, but he had a mission. He sprinted toward the shimmering blue rift, the scent of 1985 sea salt pulling at his senses. Barnaby shouted to Charlie, "Charlie Morningstar, find my cousin and bring her to your hotel. I'll find a way back to Pentagram City once I got things straightened out!"
"Barnaby, wait!" Charlie shouted, her hair igniting into flickering demonic flames as she turned to face the treachery of Vincent Harry. Her voice echoed with royal authority. "I’ll find her! I promise! She’ll have a room waiting at the Hazbin Hotel before you even get back!"
Barnaby didn't hesitate. He dived through the shimmering blue rift just as Queen Bee slammed her four hands together, creating a honey-gold barrier that absorbed the shockwave of Vincent’s bazooka.
Barnaby found himself lying face flat on wooden floor. He groaned and stood up. He was on some sort of Pirates ship. A man with a red beard and a captains suit approached him. "Well, hello there." he said in a friendly way. "Welcome to the 'Fun Ship'."
" 'Fun Ship'?" Barnaby asked. "Who are you?"
"I'm Captain Kid. Are you lost? You magically appeared from thin air."
"What year is it?" Barnaby asked.
"Last I checked it is 1985." Captain Kid said.
"Then I am where I need to be." Barnaby sighed. Queen Bee's magic worked.

End of Chapter