Chapter Text
Booming laughter echoed off the cavernous halls of Hell’s throne room, its king the source of the sound.
In front of him with his head down stood a child, porcelain and small, but nonetheless a seasoned shooter.
It was as sure a thing as the sun rising in the east. Cuphead would go out to hunt down whoever his master wanted that day and he would return before sunset (used to be before midnight) with the prize. His master would be so pleased that he would tell him he could have anything he desired.
Cuphead always said the same thing: “I wanna see my brother.”
And the Devil would laugh—“Good one!”—until he gave him something else, usually blue. Yesterday, it was a topaz.
This happened every day, and the cup was long past disappointment. Still he always tried, because the worst thing he could ever do was give up. What other choice, what other chance, was there?
The Devil wiped mirth-filled tears from his eyes. “Oh, that never fails to amuse me, asking for such a paltry thing,” he mused. “Not only do you always collect without fail, but you bring such joy afterwards! It almost seems unfair how much you do for me.”
Cuphead bit his lip so he wouldn’t speak out of turn. His mind still wondered when his boss would get it over with.
“Perhaps I should consider that little request of yours.”
Snapping his gaze up in shock, Cuphead couldn’t stop the hope rising in him.
“Why so surprised? Have I never been generous?” The Devil smiled pleasantly. “My dear boy, don’t think I don’t know how unhappy you were. I simply thought you deserved more, but I suppose one man’s treasure is another’s trash. I see that now.”
“Does that mean…?” Cuphead couldn’t finish the sentence; a lump blocked his throat.
“Oh, but there is a problem.” Hellfire from beyond the pillars flowed into its master’s claw. A contract—one Cuphead knew very well—emerged from them. “It says quite explicitly here that you shan’t so much as breathe a word to him until you have fulfilled all of your obligations. As much as I would like to, I simply cannot bend the system. My auditor would never let me hear the end of it.”
Just like that, the hope withered. He should have seen it coming, and now his eyes blurred because he let his guard down.
“Ah, but that is the exact text.” The Devil helpfully brought the scroll close to him, as if he hadn’t memorized every word of it by now.
And Cuphead still read it as if he didn’t know it by heart.
“A small thing, but maybe…” The Devil rolled up the contract again and let it return to the flames. “Of course, we do want to make sure things go off without a hitch.”
Wary, but unable to resist, Cuphead raised an eyebrow. “What do I gotta do?”
“That’s a good child, always willing, always eager; but I know how impulsive you can be. It’s only to be expected for such an exciting thing.” There were too many teeth in that smile. “So, to make sure we cover all our tracks…”
Then came a whisper, like he was telling the world’s greatest secret: “…you must give me your voice.”
A huge wave of relief suddenly rushed over the cup. “That’s it?” he asked, even laughing. “If that’s all it takes to be with Mugsy again, I don’t needa talk!” His brother could always read him like a book anyway.
“Wise words.” A clawed hand closed around the place where cup and body met, lightly scratching porcelain. “Now, hold still…”
It was quick, like a single word that did not last a second, and Cuphead could speak no more.
“Oh my,” said the Devil, looking toward the other side of his throne room, sounding weirdly like he was gently scolding someone. “What have I told you about interrupting me at work?”
“Sorry, Father.”
Cuphead gasped and whirled around in shock. He hadn’t heard that voice in so long…
…but what did Mugman just say?
“I just wanted to see you.”
Once he laid eyes on him, Cuphead was so overwhelmed with all kinds of feelings that he couldn’t move. Of course he was happy and full of love for his brother, but above it all he felt his heart break.
The mug walking towards them was wrong in every way, even though he was still Mugsy. His blue was dark, his straw crumpled, his teeth crooked. The worst part of it all was his eyes: they were yellow and red, like the Devil’s.
And when those eyes were on the cup, there was nothing but curiosity. “Who’s this?”
Cuphead wanted to scream. Mugsy, it’s me!
“I suppose the timing couldn’t have been better,” the Devil sighed dramatically and patted Cuphead’s shoulder. “This boy here is one of my finest servants, and I’ve just promoted him. From now on, he will accompany you wherever you go.”
With those words, Cuphead knew he’d been set up. He got what he wanted, he got to see Mugman again, but the Devil made sure to keep them apart anyway. The reunion he wanted had turned into a torture that would not end at sunset or even midnight.
Mugman, who was supposed to always see through him, only looked at him in wonder. “Really?”
“That’s right, little one.” The fiend leaned down so he hovered over Mugman kind of like a parent. At the same time, he was also close to Cuphead’s straw like he was going to whisper another secret.
In a way, he did. He did it in words that meant one thing for one and another thing for the other.
“He’s all yours.”