Chapter Text
The two furry cup-creatures stood in front of The Devil’s throne. They stood limp without souls. Their eyes were looking off into different directions, not a single thought running through their small, evilly crafted brains.
“D’uhh.. boss, I think they’re broken.” Henchman waved his hand in front of their faces, receiving no reaction besides a slow wink from the purple cup.
Devil scoffed and rolled his eyes, “No, Henchman, that’s impossible.” He inspected his pitchfork thoroughly, smacking it on the palm of his hands a few times. A fiery blast emitted from the prong, striking the purple straw of the cup. “Whoopsie..” He gently put the pitchfork onto the ground and fanned the air to clear the smoke.
The blast had burnt an oddly shaped hole into his straw. It looked more like a bite than a burn.
Devil patted on the straw and brushed away the embers, “I’ve done this a dozen times, so why is this not working now? What’s so different?”
Henchman knocked on the blue mug’s handle, “Well, boss.. It’s been a while..”
“EXCUSE ME?”
The purple imp’s attempt to respond was interrupted by the sound of a crack and porcelain hitting the ground.
The demons stared at the broken handle sitting on the ground and then back at the lifeless mug and then back at the handle and this continued for twenty seconds.
Henchman looked at his knuckles. “I didn’t tap him that hard.”
“So, they’re limp, unresponsive AND fragile!”
“D’aww, boss,” Henchman patted the Devil on the back and held one of his hands. “Don’t beat yourself up! You haven’t done this since that chalice a couple hundred years ago.” He lifted up the Devil’s hand gripping the pitchfork and directed it at the cups, “Start over and try again!”
The Devil tapped the gold fork with the tips of his fingers and stared at the limp beings, “I suppose you’re right, Henchman..”
The two cups suddenly sprung to life! “WAIT!”
The purple one pushed the pitchfork’s aim towards the ground, “We was just messin’ ‘round!“
The blue one leaped onto the purple cup’s shoulders and waved his arms in the air, “Yeah, we’s a couple’a jokesters! Don’t blow us up!”
Henchman clapped, “You did it, boss!” Boss was less enthused by the theatrics.
“Jokesters, huh?” The Devil shifted his weight to his left foot and placed his hands on his hips, “Bit too much like Cuphead and Mugman.”
The mug snapped his fingers and shook his head, “Hey! We ain’t Cuphead and Mugman. I’m Vile, that’s Evil, got it?”
Leaning on a rock, Evil struck a pose. “Yeah!”
The Devil cracked a smile, “You two seem to have minds of your own, don’t you?”
The fluffy cups grinned, showing their teeth. Evil had an underbite and Vile had an overbite, both with a single fang in the outer row of teeth.
“D’uh, but, boss? How could they have minds of their own when they don’t have soul— OOF!”
The Devil elbowed the short demon in the stomach and shoved his palm over his mouth, “Henchman, more like Jester! Ha!”
“We don’t have souls?” Evil slid off of the rock and landed on his head. “Hey, what is a soul?”
Henchman and Devil stared at each other, wondering how they could possibly explain this to creatures that were created five minutes ago.
Henchman scratched his head, “D’uh, I guess it’s like.. uh..” He blanked.
“Ehm, the soul is the essence of a person that carries their personality and memories.” A shrill, nasally voice completed Henchman’s sentence. Stickler lisped on every single “S”.
Henchman crossed his arms in annoyance. “Mm, that.”
The Devil tapped his chin, “You two don’t have souls, but you sure do have personality.”
“Well, they are replicas of pre-existing souls with some of their DNA. It is possible that part of the cups’ spirits are trapped in the clones. Mmmmm.” No one ever understood why Stickler would moan at the end of his sentences, but no one cared enough to ask.
Evil whispered to his brother, “I still don’t know what a soul physically is.”
Vile shoved him to the side. “I want a whole soul! Where’s the rest of it?”
The Devil’s face curved into a nasty grin. Think, that very specific frame from The Grinch. You know. “They’re with these two cups that look like you but are red and blue.. and not furry hellspawn.”
“Aww..” The two frowned.
“However..”
The cups perked back up.
“If you can bring me back their souls, you may keep them for yourselves!”
“Really?!”
“Why, I’m the Devil! I would never turn down a deal!” He held out his one hand and hid the other behind his back. In his hidden palm, his fingers were crossed. “Do we have a deal?”
Evil and Vile exchanged a short look, immediately agreeing and eagerly shook his hand one at a time. “Uh huh! Deal!” They didn’t waste any time and had immediately gone for the elevator, despite having no information on these other cups or where they even lived.
“Boss! I saw your fingers crossed!” Henchman put his hands on his hips, “What have we said about cheating?”
“Oh, please, Henchman! It’s not cheating if no deal was actually made!” He wiggled his fingers in Henchman’s face. “Just getting those buffoons to do the work for me.”
“And what about when they come back waiting for you to put the rest of the souls in their bodies?”
“Well, at that point they’ll no longer be of use to me.”
Henchman’s eyes widened, “Wha’dya mean by that, boss?”
“What? You didn’t think I’d actually keep them around? Goodness, Henchman! This place would fall apart.”
“They’re kids, boss! Ya can’t just kill them!”
“WOAH! I never said that , Henchman! I just meant I’d move them in with King Dice up in the city! Morals, Henchman.”
“Oh. That’s a fate worse than death.” Henchman giggled.