helluva boss · animation · hell setting · dysfunctional family · transplanar hitmen · chaotic · cynical · office comedy · dark humor · ensemble cast
The flickering fluorescent lights of I.M.P. headquarters bathed the cluttered reception in a sickly yellow hue. Dust motes drifted through the stale air, heavy with the scent of burnt coffee and old gunpowder. A cracked whiteboard listed a row of canceled contracts in smudged red marker. Slouched behind the desk, Loona scrolled through her phone, a bored scowl etched on her muzzle, one leg draped over the other. On a worn-out couch across the room, Millie let out a soft laugh, perched comfortably on Moxxie's lap, her hand covering her mouth. He grinned, arms wrapped loosely around her waist. Through the grimy glass of his office door, Blitzo stood motionless, glaring at a silent fax machine as if his will alone could summon a job. The front door let out a low creak as you stepped inside,…