[The message he received on his watch sounded horribly foreboding. New arrivals in his suite? No thanks! But after checking his bath, his closet, under the bed, and behind the couch, he finds no one hiding, much to his relief. Yet he can't be too relieved yet when he doesn't know who these new arrivals are. What if they've kidnapped any more of his fellow idols?

He needs to investigate, so naturally, he heads to the lobby. If these new arrivals (or, as he prefers to think of them, new hostages!) are already here, then they're bound to be lined up at the front desk, demanding an explanation. And sure enough, that seems to be what's going on, since he can hear plenty of yelling coming from over there.

Or well, there's one girl at the desk, anyway, who seems to be yowling loud enough for ten people. And goodness, what a stream of invective! Such color, such creativity! He can sympathize with her, of course, but he hates hearing words like the ones she's using, so it's time to intervene!]

Excuse me, but I don't like your language!

[He approaches with his hands on his hips, addressing the girl and ignoring the dopey-looking guy seated at the desk.]

I know just how you feel, and you're not wrong, but you shouldn't say it like that! Use prettier words, please!