Demon who is interrupting your regular broadcast for an important announcement.
Klurvogg mugs earnestly into the webcam. "We interrupt your regular broadcast," he says, "for an important announcement: the lower reaches of Hellrealm Ash-Kizaan have declared war on our glorious democratic conqueror and interim overlord, Vivacious Protector Cnidaria, declaring their intent to introduce voting to demonkind to be an abomination without peer and a crime against reality. They join the guerillas of the Recidivist Infernites and the loyalists of the Great Satan — Satan — in joining open conflict against the progressive and enlightened forces of infernal reform."
"Where is he?" yells a faint voice outside Radio Free Hell's studios. "Where's Klurvogg? Someone get him out here now!"
"Over to Huji-Beraag on location in the Mercury Pits of the Ten Thousand Terraces of Torment," Klurvogg says. "Huji, are you on the line?"
"Klurvogg," Huji-Beraag says breathlessly. "Things are chaotic on the ground here since the news broke. I am currently standing atop a heap of the broken bodies of a horde of imps, who have declared me anathema and intend to devour me; I'm cleaving them in their scores with my dread scythe, Gluttonous Night-Feeder, unleashing a tide of blood. Factional tensions are running high—"
Klurvogg shoves his headphones at an intern, and quietly lets himself out, to where Vivacious Protector Cnidaria is pacing jerkily in the corridor, the panoply of a Warlord of Hell draped over their magical enby costume like a child playing dress-up in clothes for a body a twice their size. They look like they haven't slept properly in weeks.
"What do you need, boss?" Klurvogg says soothingly, and Cnidaria, with crazed eyes, latches their hands around the demon's throat.
"You fucker," Cnidaria hisses, misting Klurvogg's face with spit. "There's a fucking war breaking out down there and the hell-generals are shrugging at me and saying I've got a choice between launching atrocities on them or sitting back and letting the other side get theirs in first and this whole thing has just been catch-22s all the way down and everything's dirty and my hands are soaked in blood and corruption and bullshit and I'm complicit in everything, and you knew. You knew what you were getting me into. Didn't you?"
"I had a PowerPoint," Klurvogg says, grinning and only slightly strangled. "Wasn't that enough clue I was there for evil?"
"You sold this to me," Cnidaria says, and shakes the demon. "You told me—"
"You really had a shot, there," Klurvogg says sympathetically. "Power of friendship! Punch the devil in the face! The cosmos is rigged, you know, Upstairs built it; the world loves a good punch-the-devil story."
"I was going to reform this place—"
"Sure!" Klurvogg waggles his eyebrows. "And we will! Viva the revolution, interim warlord!"
Cnidaria shakes him again. "You got to me," they say, but profound, lost, dread is eating away beneath the anger in it. "You nobbled me—"
"Welcome to Hell, Cnid," Klurvogg says, and pats their arm.
"I'll twist your fucking head right off," Cnidaria says, shaking him again, but their heart's not in it.
"That's the spirit!" Klurvogg says cheerily.