Mxyzptlk and Pyewackett were the kind of imps who really didn't care about much of anything anymore. In a place where what's 'bad' is 'good', you might think this was a good thing, but that would just be one more thing about Hell where you lacked clue one.
For instance, it turns out that no matter which off-ramp you took on your highway to Hell, be it Mictlan, Tartarus, Peklo or Kalichi, you ended up in exactly the same place and when you got there, nobody really gave a damn about what you called it.
This simple metaphysical fact was a kind of cruel, useless foreshadowing dating back to when El Darko still gave a rat's ass. There were stories about hIMSELF kicking ass and taking names, but nobody had seen hIM that motivated in centuries.
These days, Hell was like a crummy theme park well past its best befores, and therein lay a cosmic irony... though it lacked the diabolical tortures administered by energetic demons so relished by Earthly imagineers, Hell is, was and ever will be way, way worse than any preachers' technicolour fantasy.
Why? Because Hell is incredibly, amazingly boring. Hell is lame. It sucks the Big One, because nothing ever happens. Hell is the worst party of your life with a wicked (sic) hangover and hemorrhoids the size of golf balls.
Everyone at the party is as stupid/nasty/batshit crazy as they were on Earth. They never learn one new thing and they never shut up. The party never stops. It goes on forever and you ain't goin' nowhere, because in a place where everything's burning, fire exits would be silly.
This is why imps, demons and even His Supreme Nastyness are such geeks for human imaginings of Hell in print, movies and other arts. In the Infernal Eternal, these lurid hallucinations are porn cut with Star Wars and Citizen Kane, at least at first. But then, like anything else over the course of Eternity, it gets boring and there you are - back at the party where even Satan is bored, and God's laughter echoes down the canyon.