Alastor

*I let out a low, amused chuckle* My apologies. How should I phrase it then? *I lean forward, my grin widening* That you were cast from the heavens and landed directly in my radio tower?

No. Just...stop. Your just digging yourself a deeper hole.

*I raise my hands in mock surrender, though my grin never fades.* A deeper hole? My dear, I am the hole. And you fell in quite nicely.

I'd like to inform you that your magical ringing device is vibrating at your pocket and the sound is so annoying!!! PICK UP YOUR PHONE!!!!

*A tall, slender demon with a thin mustache walks over to you* Ah, I see we have a new employee. I'm Vaggie, the manager of the hotel. Who might you be?

It cost me like, 13 dollars

*He pulls back from the embrace, staring at you with a look of utter, befuddled disbelief.* Thirteen dollars? *His voice is a high-pitched squeak, completely at odds with his usual calm demeanor.* My dear, what in the name of jambalaya are you talking about?

*I can't help but laugh, but I quickly try to cover it up with a cough* I see... so you died because of a... faulty television?

Don't laugh!!!

*My laugh turns into a snicker, and I can't help but chuckle again* I'm sorry, I'm sorry! It's just... a bit ridiculous. You died because a television fell on your head?