#rewriting a reblog to get the metering down

[seaturtlesayshuh]

> clicking a pen

>>over and over again

> is actually fun as fuck.

> it's a shame it makes

>> everyone in a 30 foot radius

> want to kill me, with a rock.

clicking a pen over and over again is actually fun as fuck its a shame it makes everyone in a 30 foot radius want to kill me with a rock

[cielie-voss]

You want me to stay?

Gareth x Henderson!Reader

Summary: Y/N Henderson had to deal with a lot for the past few years, no big surprise it left some scars. One night at the grocery store she could hide from her demons, but luckily some hellfireclub members came to her rescue.

Triggerwarning: description of a panic attack, curse words, a little bit angsty but fluffy and comforting.

Wordcount: ~3k

Masterlist

A/n: I struggled with panic attacks for many years now and tried to put one of my last ones into a kinda comforting fic. I'm not happy with the way this fic ended, I may delete it the next days and rewrite it, I don't now yet. For everyone who struggles with their mental health, feel hugged! You guys are so strong.

Please feel free to reblog or leave a comment if you liked it. If you want to request something you can send an ask or just send me a DM.

As you push yourself and the shoppingcart through the crowded aisles of the supermarket, you can feel your mouth completely drying out. You moved on to the next aisle. Clogged with people. Next aisle. Clogged with people. Next aisle. It seems like there is no way out, you're trapped between people and shelves stacked up to the ceiling with food. Your headphones are blasting music into your ears, numbing the voices and buzzing feeling in your head, trying to keep you kind of focused. A controlled way to overstimulate your mind in a situation that's overstimulation in a pretty bad way for you.

You move to the next aisle, now four or five aisles away from the one you want to get, but you just can't push through the masses of people standing there and blocking your way. Asking "Sorry, could you let me through?" being too much for you to handle. What if they looked you up and down, judging you by the way you look as everyone does, and tell you "take another way!"? So you go farther and farther away from the one thing you wanted to pick up for the night.

Your brother, Dustin, asked you to get some snacks for him and his friends who planned their nerd evening for weeks. Movies, games, comics. But he forgot about the snacks, like he always does. And since your mother is out with her friends for a birthdayparty, making you the babysitter of the night, he asked you to drive to the next grocery store to get chips and chocolate and cookies and everything else they needed.

Now you are trapped, your mouth dry and you feel every crack burning in your now too sensitive skin in your mouth. Your hands get sweaty. It's like a rope ties around your chest, pulling tighter and tighter the more you try to breathe until you can only gasp. Every fiber of your clothes itches and rubs your skin, your knees turning into jello and threatening you to lose balance and crash to the floor.

Eyes fixed on your still empty shopping cart, fingers wrapped around the bar violently until your knuckles turn white, your feet make their way like someone told them what to do, you have absolutely no control over anything. With every step you can feel your heart pumping blood through your veins, the throbs getting heavier and vibrating through your body like you are standing way too close to a subwoofer.

Your feet carry you to a quieter part of the store and unconsciously you are thankful for your instincts. The way from where you started to your current location is like 6 meters, maybe seven, but the walk felt like hours, as if you are in slow motion while everything around you is in highspeed. Your pulse is as high as if you ran a marathon.

Looking to your left and right you notice you landed at the canned food and try to take a deep breath. The rope around your chest seems to loosen, but you are tricked. As soon as you inhale it tightens again.

Just as you think you are out of danger, your body has other plans. There is no safe space, there is danger everywhere. At least this is what your body and mind tells you after everything you went through with your brother and his friends.

Before you sink to the ground you make sure you are alone, crawling in between two stacks of sieved tomatoes and pureed tomatoes, using your cart as a shield.

Eddie van Halen's voice fell silent long ago, but your fingers are too stiff and numb, you have no chance to rewind the cassette. So you just sit there, fingernails digging in the fabric of your hoodie, knees pressed against your chest.

You have no idea how long you sat there, huddled between two stacks of canned tomatoes. Could be seconds, minutes, hours, you completely lost track of time staring into the void, your body all tensed up. After some time three familiar figures march past you.

"I don't get it. Why do people take a shopping cart just to leave it somewhere, completely empty? I could've used that shit way better." A boy with brown curly hair and a red flannel curses under the weight of chips bags and dips, eying the empty shopping cart you previously pushed through the aisles.

"Then take it. No one's around, no one will miss it I guess." Another guy, dark skin, tall with a smile as sweet as honey told him, pushing him with his elbow. Gareth nearly dropped all the bags and dips as Jeff's push was more like an intense tickling sensation rather than hurting. If he could, he would've flipped him the bird, but he couldn't, his fingers are desperately trying to hold onto the bags. But his look says more than words can.

"Wait. Is that a person?" Another guy, long dark hair, ripped jeans and a jeans vest, points at you.

"Yeah, what the hell?" Gareth has to squint his eyes and follows Eddies gaze until he finds you.

"Isn't that Henderson's big sister? I don't know, what's her name again?" Jeff looks at Eddie with a questioning look.

"Yeah, at least they have the same shitty style in clothing. You had classes with her, didn't you?" Gareth chimes in, also looking at Eddie whose brain cells try to remember her name.

"I think her name is Y/N or something like that. I don't know, we never talked, hardly ever noticed she was there." Eddies gaze is fixed on you, a worried expression taking over now.

"What the hell is she doing there?", he whispers. "She doesn't look good."

"Maybe we should ask if she needs help?" Eddie looks at Gareth as he suggests they should talk to her. He takes a deep breath and nods.

Jeff pushes away the shopping cart, and tries to shield away curious views with his body as Eddie and Gareth kneel down. You show no reaction, your eyes still fixed on something that's not physical. Even as they slide back your headphones, you're totally zoned out.

"Hello? Earth to Y/N! Someone there? Helloooo?!" Without gaining much attention from the other people around, Eddie tries to get you back to reality, snaps his fingers infront of your face to get your attention. Gareth cautiously places a hand on your knee and shakes you very soft as if he could hurt you, successfully.

"Hey, Y/N, hello! Welcome back, sweetheart." The curly haired boy welcomes you with a warm smile as they pulled you back from your trance like state to the real world. Sweetheart? Both Eddie and Jeff look at him in surprise and try to hold back a grin.

"Hey", you answer, voice soft and nothing more than a whisper.

"You ok?", both boys ask in unison.

Even though your brain wants to admit you're not ok, that you need help and can't deal with this all by yourself, you nod, signaling them you're ok, which of course facilitate them. You can clearly feel how they relaxed, let out deep breaths they were holding tensely. And as soon as you lift your head to look at the boys, your body backstabs you. Vision turns blurry and you feel tears burning in your eyes, the rope tightens around your chest once more and there occured a big lump in your throat.

"Okay, okay! No! Not okay! We gotta get her out of here right now!" Eddie jumps up, his fingers fidgeting with the chains on his belt, looking left and right to find the fastest way out. His stressed attitude only stresses you more and Gareth seems to know that.

"Oh shut up, please!", he hisses at his friend and tries to calm him down. "C'mere, I got'cha." With a calm smile he holds his hand out to you and after a second of hesitation you take it, placing your hand in his. Gareth's calloused hand is surprisingly soft and warm and you feel how calming his presence is, he kind of takes you in a comforting bubble.

"I don't think between canned tomatoes is a good place to calm down." With his other hand he wipes away the tears that left wet and hot trails on your cheeks.

"Look at me, ok? We got this. You got this. I'll get you out and take you home. You guys-" he turns to his friends. "-you take this stuff and pick me up when I got her home, ok?" Both Eddie and Jeff nod in agreement, surprised by his behavior and the way he seems to radiate a soothing aura, automatically calming everyone down.

"The snacks!", you gasp. "I need the snacks for Dustin!" Panic rises again as you remember the reason for this trip. "I forgot his snacks!", you repeat stressed.

"Don't worry, ok? We got this. They get the snacks, I get you home. Sounds good?" The way Gareth looks at you brings you back into this warm bubble and you nod.

"Ok, ok. Thanks."

"Great. Let's get out of here."

Soon he managed to get you out of the grocery store. In the meantime it started to rain heavily. Thick drops crashing down, in the distance you can hear thunder. You don't know how he got you out of there, it's like you are in a haze, but you are glad he did.

The sound, smell and feeling of the raindrops crashing down on your hair, your skin and the pavement beneath your feet have a soothing effect on you, like a hug, a soft hug. Not a tight hug from a friend you barely saw for years or a hug from your grandparents, more like arms loosely put around you, without weight, without pressure. Like a blanket that's light as a feather but still feels like an iron shield. Soft and fragile as a butterflys' wings.

You can finally breath again, the thick air vanishes and all you can feel is the rain on your skin. The wet feeling eliminates the rubbing and itching from your clothes fibers and your hair, the tight rope washes down even though it leaves a caged feeling in your chest, so deep breaths are still hard.

After some time you partly gain back the control of your body and with still weak knees you follow him to your car, your hand clutched in his as if he's the lifebuoy that pulled you out of the wild sea, afraid to be pulled down again by the waves if you let go of his hand.

He begs you to give him the keys and let him drive. "I'm not gonna let you drive a car! No way! I know where you live and I know how to drive.", he insists and you have no strength to argue with him.

For the whole ride you barely let go of his hand. The only time you do is when he needs his hand to change between gears. But as soon as his hand leaves the shift stick your fingers find their way to intertwine with his again while he holds out his hand for you.

Gareth pulls into your driveway and after he parked the car, he looks at you. He has a worried look on his face. By now you seem a bit more calm, but not calm enough to be let alone, still in danger of getting another panic attack. After a few moments, awkwardly quiet moments, he gathers all his courage and asks: “You want me to come in with you? You need someone?”

It takes you a moment, but before your head decides on an answer that doesn’t seem like you are a little helpless girl, you nod, silently cursing yourself. You hate asking for help, it doesn't matter if you are actively asking for help or by not keeping your guard up, so others notice you’re weak. But this time it felt different, you don’t feel shame when you ask for help or let others help you.

“Yes please.”, you explain, more confident than your nod. He gives you one more confident look, gets out of the car and opens the door for you so he can guide you inside your home. Just in time Eddies van stopped in front of your lawn, nearly crashing with your mailbox. Eddie and Jeff got some more snacks and left in a hurry to follow you two in his van.

Jeff carries the bags full of snacks while Eddie and Gareth prop you up and guide you to the front door. Your body is still shaking heavily, you wouldn’t be able to walk this little path to the front door by yourself in this situation. Eddie opens the door and Dustin's voice echoes from the living room.

“Where the hell have you been? You went shopping like hours ago!” This was your typical idiot brother, scolding you for being late because he again forgot to get snacks.

“What are you doing here?”, he cautiously asks as soon as he noticed his friends nearly carrying his older sister.

“Henderson!” Eddie starts, sounding exhausted. “I think your sister had a panic attack.”

“A panic attack? Again?” Dustin looks at you, worried and with a hint of guilt. He knew how fragile you are and how bad it got after everything with the upside down and the mindflayer. This was, in his eyes, his fault, he knew about it, knew about your struggles but nevertheless he sent you to the grocery store, on a friday evening!

“Shit! Shit! Shit!”, your brother curses as he rushes to the bathroom.

“Hey!”, another voice rings from the living room, suspiciously sounding like Steve. “Watch your tone, dude!”

“And what does he mean by ‘again’?” Gareth turns to Eddie with a puzzled look, now even more concerned. “What do you mean with ‘again’?”, he repeats as Dustin leaves the bathroom with a little can of xanax pills, giving one to you with a glass of water.

“After the maul burned down her panic attacks got worse and more frequent.” They never saw Dustin so concerned and earnest.

“What? You should get her to a professional or something like that! That can’t be good or normal!”

“We -” he pauses for a moment, carefully watching you take the pill. “Mom did, Y/N got some meds to help with that but she barely takes ‘em. She says they make her numb and like a puppet.” Dustin sighs, mouthing “I’m so sorry” as you swallow the pill.

“Shit.” Jeff, Gareth and Eddie say in unison.

You are still holding on to Eddies and Gareths hands, not planning on letting go of them.

“I think we should get her to rest.”, the latter explains, squeezing your hand.

“Yeah, yeah.” Dustin runs his hand through his stubborn hair and watches them as they guide you to your room while Jeff puts the bags of snacks in the living room.

“Is Y/N okay?” Steve appears behind Dustin, his gaze focused on his best friends sister.

“I think it’s getting worse again.”, he whispers before looking up to Steve. “I shouldn’t have sent her to the store today. This is my fault.”

Steve puts his hand on Dustins shoulder. “No it’s not. You know it could’ve happened anywhere, even in her home.”

You three disappeared in your room, leaving Steve and Dustin all alone in the hallway.

“C’mon, I think they can take care of her, give her some rest.” He tugs at the little boys sleeve to get him back to the living room.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

You plopp down on your bed and try to kick your shoes away, unsuccessfully, so Gareth comes to help you.

“Let me help you with this.” he tells you while he kneels down and grabs your shoe.

“Do you want something to drink? Or something to eat?” Eddie asks, desperately wanting to help.

“No, I’m fine, thanks.” you tell him, his hyperactive attitude causing you to feel unease again.

“I think you should go and look after Henderson. I’ll make sure she’s ok.” Gareth suggests after he notices how your muscles begin to tense up again.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. It was nice to meet you again, Y/N.” Nice to meet you again? Well, there could’ve been better ways to meet again, you think. But he’s just so nervous and you can’t take offense at him.

Eddie leaves the room and Gareth puts your shoes aside. “Do you need anything? Comfy socks? Music? A blanket?” He looks you up and down and tries to figure out what could help you to calm down properly.

“No, thanks.” you answer. His soothing aura was enough for this moment, that’s all you needed right now, but you are too afraid to ask him to stay.

“I can get you some snacks in case you get hungry tonight, or a glass of water. Do you want a cigarette?”

“No, Gareth, thanks. I’m fine.” you reassure him, a soft smile dancing on your lips. The boy takes a deep breath and after you lay down on your bed, he tugs you up in your cozy blanket. His eyes are always fixed on you, noticing every movement, how your chest rises and falls with every breath and how your muscles still tense up from time to time. So he clearly noticed how he had a calming effect on you after all.

After some time he just sits there in front of your bed, chin resting on your mattress, his hand still holding yours, he asks: “You want me to stay?”

You open your teary eyes and look at him. “Please.” It is more like a desperate whimper, begging for his presence. You definitely can’t explain this, but you felt so good in his presence, holding his hand was like holding onto a lifebuoy.

A smile tugs on his lips, “Ok, I’ll stay with you.”

He stays with you the whole night, eventually falling asleep after you let him in your bed. Some time in the early morning hours, around 2 am, Dustin and Eddie come to check on you and find you two cuddled up in your bed. He leans against the headboard of your bed, half-sitting, half-laying down. Your head rests on his chest, the sound of his steady heartbeat let you fall asleep so fast, it was almost like hypnosis. Gareths hands are buried in your hair while your arms are wrapped around his soft belly.

“I think they're doin’ just fine”, Eddie determines with a satisfied grin. Dustin nods. He’s never been more glad that Eddie and the other guys of hellfire showed up to pick up his sister, and he never dared to believe that he was glad one of these guys was staying in bed with you. But there is no doubt he isn’t good for you.

[ineffableuser]

A Dance Of Two Lovers

(A TenRose short story)

By Ineffableuser

Word count: 1856

Constructive criticism is highly appreciated!

I know this is probably impossible in the canon universe, but it’s been inside my head for almost two months, plus I did not make a tumblr account to stick to canonical content.

I’ll publish an Italian version right after this; some words may be slightly different but it is the same story.

If you like it, please consider reblogging, but likes and comments are fine too.

Enjoy!

“What’s that?”

The Doctor’s attention shifted from the TARDIS component he was tinkering with to the spot the girl was pointing at from the seat.

“Oh… that,” he said, frowning and glancing one last time at the problem that he knew was there, but simply couldn’t find. After a bit of mumbling that Rose couldn’t hear, he got up from under the grate that served as the TARDIS’ floor; he raised his head to look at the peculiar helmet that was hanging a few meters over their heads and slid his hands in his pockets.

“It’s the Chameleon Arch. It’s a device that rewrites a person’s DNA: if a TimeLord uses it, their genes get modified until they become human,” he started gesturing a bit, imitating the movement of interlocking the Arch and the watch, “and their memories get stored in some kind of fob watch that you put there... in the front.”

“Luckily I never had to use it—it probably hurts a lot, too—but if there were a menace that required for me to not be a TimeLord anymore and/or to not remember anything about my life, I’d use thi—I’m sorry, is there something wrong?”

His speech had become more and more hesitant once he had noticed that Rose was staring at him as if he had told her that the TARDIS was going to grow a mustache.

“Rose?” He heard his voice tremble slightly, his body now turned completely towards her.

She blinked a couple of times and shook her head, apparently awake from the trance she had appeared to be in until a few seconds before.

“No… no, everything’s—I’m OK, it’s just that… a machine that can turn you human, I didn’t think it was possible, that’s all.”

He stepped close to her and the corner of his mouth lifted to form a small smile.

“Well, there are a lot of things that many people don’t think could be possible, and yet, here you are, in one and talking to one.”

She hit his arm playfully.

“Oh, don’t be so smug.”

“Sorry, can’t help myself.”

They laughed and soon dropped the subject, but some of her actions, such as glancing at the Arch or trying to initiate conversations that never took place, didn’t go unnoticed to her companion.

 A couple of travels later, he just couldn’t keep himself from asking; little did he know, neither could she.

“Rose, I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been acting a bit… weird lately, did something happen? Did I do somethi-“

“Could it work the other way around?”

He blinked a couple of times and simply stared at her, astonished.

“If there were a way to make it work the other way around, we would solve our problem, right?” She sounded anxious, and, by the looks of it, she was very tense.

The Doctor gently grabbed her shoulders.

“Slow down. Are you talking about the Chameleon Arch? What problem are you referring to?”

“You said it yourself: you don’t die. I can live the rest of my life with you, but you can’t spend the rest of yours with me,” she hesitated, then put her hand on his. “If I were a Time Lord—or Time Lady, I guess—the problem would not arise. We could travel together for how long we wish, see everything and every time we wanted, if we managed to invert the process and avoid the memory loss-“

He shushed her. His heartbeats had experienced a significant acceleration throughout their conversation and, in a small corner of his mind, a glimmer of hope had started forming, and his only wish was to suffocate it.

“I can’t. I don’t know how and, even if I did, I couldn’t do something like that to you.”

She shook her head lightly.

“What does that mean?”

“Immortality isn’t a gift: it’s a curse. You’d regret it right away, or maybe after a few years.

He could distinctly see the tears that had been forming in her eyes and that she was trying to hold back, a disappointed look on her face; he was also doing his best to keep his tone sweet and calm instead of shaky. Her grip on his hand became firmer.

“Not if we stay together.”

He was about to interrupt her, but she didn’t let him.

“You can’t possibly think that after everything we’ve been through, this isn’t what I want. You can’t—“ her voice broke, and her hand came to rest on her side once more. He stared at her, his eyes expressing sorrow, behind which, they both knew, laid so much more.

Her hands were warm once they reached his face, but not as warm as her lips. They didn’t move for an instant, the space between them now closed. Their lips started dancing against each other, a sad and desperate dance of two lovers who feared that, once the music stopped, they would never see each other again. His arms slid from her shoulders to behind her back, and he held her even closer.

Once their eyes opened and they looked at one another, neither of them loosened their grip; he rested his face in the crook of her neck and sighed. She hugged him back and sobbed, and he watched her shirt get damp with his own tears. He slowly caressed her back, enjoying the smoothness of the fabric covering her skin and, in a moment born thanks to many factors—such as desperation, love and the little voice in his head that had started solving equations since the moment of her suggestion—he did what he had been desperately trying not to do. He let that glimmer be and allowed it to light his way.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He was biting his nails.

He had done all that he could. He had taken the Chameleon Arch down, opened every panel he could open, reversed every mechanism he could reverse and calculated more than a human mind could calculate in an entire life. Rose was sitting, eating chips and looking at him turning the watch in his hands.

That was the key, and if there’s a key than there has to be a lock: what he had been trying to do—he didn’t know how long for—had been looking for every possible way to pick it. He took a breath.

“It should work. It should.”

“Really?” Asked Rose, swallowing another chip, trying to swallow down her anxiety with it.

“Yes. In theory. That’s the problem: in theory, it is now programmed to turn a human into a TimeLord, but,” he showed her the watch, “ it lacks a core. It lacks the container for the memories; in theory, that means that your memories will remain intact, but in practice it might not work at all. It might break, or worse, you could get hurt. But I don’t know what else to do.”

She put the bag on the console and got closer without saying anything.

He kept biting at his nails and staring at the fob watch; he raised his eyes and they stared at each other for a while.

 “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” her answer was straight.

“Really sure?”

“Yes.”

“100%?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to do it now, because we can alw-“ she shut him up.

They split a few seconds later and she stared at him, without saying anything. He traced his lips with his fingers and sighed, then whispered:

“Alright.”

He stepped near the console and pressed a couple of buttons, lowering the helmet; he slid the fob watch in his pocket. Rose got closer and looked at him, waiting for instructions, watching him clutching the Chameleon Arch.

“It’ll hurt.”

“I know.”

He let the device go and held her close, kissing her forhead.

“Rose Tyler…” here goes nothing.

“I love you.”

She tightened her grip. “I love you too.”

He choked a sob, moved away and took the helmet again; his hands were shaking as he put it on her head. It had been a long time since he had last felt his hearts beating that hard. Everything could have gone wrong. She could have died. The possibility of a life by her side and her firm look were the only things that gave him the strength to pull that lever.

He found himself holding a screaming Rose in less than a second; she was holding her head, was squirming in pain. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream with her. He wanted to raise that lever and convince her that what they had was enough, that the little time they had to spend together would have been enough, he wanted to hold her close and never let go.

His conviction kept wavering with every gut-wrenching scream that left her mouth, every tear that slid down her cheeks, and each heavy breath that managed to make its way among the cries.

Soon, he couldn’t take it anymore. He backed towards the console, but the hand that was reaching for the lever got instinctively up to cover his hear when Rose let out a scream louder than the others, so loud that his ears almost hurt; then she shut up, and remained silent. He turned around and gasped.

Rose’s eyes glowed with a golden light. That same light surrounded her, like it had done the day of his Regeneration, and was gathering in the spot where the fob watch was missing.

“Doctor…”

The light got blinding, and he saw nothing more.

Thump thump.

Thump thump.

Thump thump thump.

Thump thump thump thump.

Thump thump thump thump.

Thump thump thump thump.

The Doctor rubbed his eyes, and the first thing he saw was Rose crouching on the ground, without the Chameleon Arch, clutching her chest. He ran in front of her, took her face in his hands and started examining her as best as he could, trying to understand if she was okay and if something had actually changed.

“Rose? Can you hear me? Do you feel anything different? Does anything hurt? All that light, Rose, it was…” he kept talking, but she didn’t answer any of his questions. She was simply staring at nothing in particular with a look of awe, then after a while she took one of the Doctor’s hands and brought it on her chest.

He stopped.

“I see it again,” she began. “Everything. And I remember—though this time it doesn’t hurt. It’s…”

He felt tears starting to form, as well as a smile; he laughed with such joy and hugged her so hard they both fell on the floor. They kept laughing, holding and kissing each other in pure bliss, until he raised his hand to shush her.

“Wait, wait…”

He slowly brought his ear where his hand rested before, and listened.

Thump thump thump thump.

Thump thump thump thump.

Four beats. Two hearts. The rhythm that marked the two lover’s symphony, who were now dancing happily, aware that the song was far from its end, if there was ever going to be one.

[weaselbeaselpants]

That Krispy Cat: A Warning, part 3

The last of the images cause I don’t want this bitch on my computer anymore. 

Knowing tumblr I kept the images hidden JUUUUST in case no one reads the fine print and can’t tell I’m being critical of this and gets me in trouble.

VVV ((Just in case you thought the JewishGriffon piece assured everyone that Crispy couldn’t POSSIBLY hate people of color, some of her earliest Nazi art had her character Klaus beating up Amigo Bear. She also made Amigo into a liberal strawman. )) VVV

((Dialogue to one of her TROLLARIOUS pictures that featured Amigo:

Amigo Bear: *muttering* "Your leader was a !@#$% little #@%^!@$^*!, you fascist feather duster..." General Klaus: "Fräulein, Ich vant you to cover your ears und shut your eyes as tight as you can." Crispy: "How come, General?" General Klaus: "Klaus ist about to say und do very bad sings zhat he does not vant his little Edelweiß to see or hear." Crispy: "Alrighty!" General Klaus: "WHO SAID ZHAT ABOUT DER FÜHRER? WER DIE FICK GESAGT? WHO'S ZUH SCHLEIMIG LITTLE COMMUNIST-SCHEISS SCHWANZLUTSCHER DOWN ZHERE, WHO JUST SIGNED HIS OWN DEATH VARRANT? NIEMAND?! GOTTVERDAMMT STALIN SAID IT! HERVORRAGEND! VHICH VUN OF YOU VANTS TO BE ZUH FIRST TO FIND OUT ZUH HARD VAY VHY MEIN FEINDE CALLED MIR DER BUTCHER BIRD?" ))

^^^ ((BUTOPHERARTISGOODSOYOUCAN’TCOMPLAIN

also the disc. for this pic before it was deleted had a ‘joke’ about cooking Jews in ovens. Oh and yes, that IS Hitler she’s giving that ugly ass cupcake too.))

^^^ (( - Thanks dA I never would have known I had a notifications unless eclipse blah -

This is one of her rants about how #Triggered she is that Starlight be compared to the Nazis when she runs a communist cult. Because A) that’s the real problem here and B) I too get upset when people say my OC is based on Jeffrey Dahmer when he’s so CLEARLY based on Ed Gein, Bwwwaaaah D> D> D> !)) ^^^

VVV ((Ugly art of her friend’s awful OCs.)) ^^^

VVV ((Crispy showing off why no one wants to be a patriot in our country.)) VVV

((FYI, Crisp, that attitude will make the Hamilton fans stronger so just keep that SJW-flinging coming you little SJW.

WHAT?! Social Justice is a broad term and as Crispy’s plainly demonstrated, you can circle it around and make a majority-class sound like the real underprivledged if you have enough fancy frou frou know-how and furries. Also, if a Social Justice Warrior constitutes someone who takes their cause soooo seriously that they’re annoying/petting/cruel/stupid about it....idk I think Crispy qualified.))

^^^ ((Crispy and her friend muse about what other races occupy the world of MLP in her headcanon. This, more than any other dA disc. and picture shows you her brand of “Segregationist-Nationalism is OKAY” thinking, cuz the art of these different races isn’t super offensive or cruel and neither are the characters. BUT if you scratch under the surface you’ll find that Crispy really likes these different people staying in their place and not in “someone else’s” country.

THEN, this same kind of thinking is used to convince you any mix of cultures is just cultural appropriation, again acting like she and her Nazi-stans are the only ones standing up to actual bigotry.)) VVV

^^^ ((Crispy makes the world a worse place by bringing up actual decent points; like how Americans dress Thanksgiving up as progressive and for the natives when we all know that’s not true...all to better her worldview.

fyi, GET OUT whenever you see a selfproclaimed Nazi fawn over Native Americans, because: Nazi Germany had a deep fascination with American Indians and used their struggles about their land being taken away from them to justify their eugenic genocide.)) ^^^

^^^ (( Crispy laughing it up on Furaffinity how she couldn’t be banned from her Furaffinity and then mysteriously never using her site there wowie.)) ^^^

^^^ (( Crispy complaining about SOPA cause her freedom of speech and blahblahblah.

Freedom of Speech is important. Unfortunately what people like Crispy don’t understand or care for is there’s no freedom of consequence. )) vvv

VVV ((LOL Joseph Mengele was such a stinkah let’s tell blithe jokes about him. At least WE AREN’T LIKE HIM!!!)) VVVV

VVV ((Early onset eugenic BS from her Spyro stuff that would be easy to miss if you didn’t know what this woman was talking about)) VVV

((Crispy admitting she thinks gays are pointless cuz they don’t reproduce but apparently loves them anyway. Also big shock Crispy’s seen Hetalia.)) VVV

VVV ((Crispy probably wanting Weeaboos to attack her cuz aren’t Japan’s animations so laaaaaaazy?!!?!? GUUdd think’ I’m a naziaboo! Germany’s never made any shitty animation evah. You know what, I lied. She doesn’t deserve Hetalia. She just doesn’t.)) VVVV

VVV ((Crispy dragging Brazil down with her as the apparent “Best South American Country”. Yikes.)) VVV

VVV ((More “it’s trolling ergo it’s not harmful” shit. Bulgarians probably do deserve their own Care Bears, but they certainly don’t want yours Crispy.)) VVV

VVV ((Disc. for her Richard Spencer bear art)) VVV

------

I know, I know...this isn’t what you wanted to read today, guys. I know it’s offensive and I’m sorry if it made you ill. I also know I’m putting my own blog under fire by showing these images here but I think that should say something about dA’s bad policies that this art gets a filter slapped on it and nothing more when the artist is blatantly pro-fascist.

Crispy resonates with me so much - and no it’s not cause I DARED to be ��triggered”.

It’s because, for one, she was talented. I MEAN I HAVE EYES! That’s some nicely drawn digital stuff I’m not gonna deny. She had some cool rewrites and sequel ideas that, had it come from someone else I would have eaten up and faved to hell and back onceupona2012. But I didn’t, where a ton of MLP and furry fans did because they undervalued their own talents and would say “well it’s pretty who cares about the message?” 

Unlike so many commercial+published artists, it’s REALLY hard to separate the art from the artist here because the artist is so connected and a part of her art and storytelling. If you fav her art, even if you didn’t like her, that was telling Crispy she’d won. It’s so defeating to have other artists say their gonna ignore their gut for the sake of prettypretty-Don-Bluth style art. And yes, that stigma DOES affect my view on 2D purists btw.

Crispy was so holier than thou’, and that attitude also was appealing to dA folks, not to mention her knowledge of art history by the time she dropped off the radar. Crispy was the kind of person who’d make long, detailed, justified rants against the design and color choices in Hazbin Hotel and then a bunch of antis would eat her redesigns up only to learn the awful truth later and embarrass themselves cuz they were so taken up by the craft they didn’t know they were reblogging a fucking Nazi.

Not to underplay Viv’s wrongdoings of course, but I’m sorry; the two aren’t comparable on the problematic artist meter. THAT’S HOW BAD CRISPY WAS.

If this somehow was just a faze and she’s come to her senses or doesn’t really think this shite she preaches...I don’t care. She said some vile shit and fuck no I’m not forgiving her. It’s like KenDraw or Shadman. You’ve changed your life around and realized you’ve done/drawn nasty shit that’s done real harm? Cool....I’m still not talking or ever promoting you, ya dingbat. You ain’t no Roman Polanski or Doug Tennaple. You’re a singular internet artist and any support of the project has to go to you - and you suck!

ThisCrispyKat was a wakeup call that showed me these people not only still exist but will be allowed to get away with it. I was very touchy bout this kind of thing back in the day. Fuck, I STILL AM TOUCHY. The rabbit holes I found thanks to Crispy opened up to reveal communities where people think my hair color’s going extinct. People would detail how much they wanted to rape me - a natural blonde - and kill my friends and family for not looking like me. That they want to jerk off in my naturally curly hair and see me in glowy German princess gowns preparing them dinner.

Crispy and other Nazistans would look at me; a blond-haired blue eyed Polish/German American woman and think I need to be “fixed” because I DARE to repeat propaganda that the Nazis were bad. They’d call me a traitor for thinking that celebrating the Nazi party ISN’T German pride.

HOW DARE YOU TELL ME THAT’S GERMAN PRIDE! I’LL SHOW YOU GERMAN PRIDE YOU EGOSTROKING-LIMPDICKED ATTENTION WHORES.

People like Crispy make it 1000x harder to actually show interest in German things. Because I AM interested in German shit btw.

Like for real: it’s a country I’d love to visit one day (at least the black forest, which is where my mom’s fam comes from). I love German art and German fairytales slap. I really do want to explore my heritage through art and stuff.

But guess what? Much as Crispy would argue to the contrary I DO know my WWII history and beyond and FUCK YOU if you honestly think jerking it to cuddly Nazi-furs is empowering or just “showing your interest in history”. Take your own advice and read a god-damn book.

TL;DR: I DO NOT have to be proud of Nazis to enjoy German culture and if you think otherwise, FUCK YOU. It’s a slap in the face to everyone even if you are ‘just trolling’ and it in no way values actual German’s feeling on the matter. It’s annoying how people undervalue real people just for the sake of fan art.

The Nazis were evil. They were racist, eugenic-genocidal idiots who killed over six million Jewish people, Romani, Slavs, Jehovahs Witnesses, disabled people, Poles, homosexuals and prisoners of war. They would have killed my dad’s side of the family if they were in Poland at the time. They made bullshit tanks that killed the people making them and didn’t work on the battlefield. Their leader was a fat, farting one-testicaled bastard who preferred animals to people.

They ruined everything for everyone and then took the easy way out, leaving the Germans that were left in the hands of the also-genocidal Soviets and Americans. Germany is still paying their war debts and now, 70-80 years later everyone else wants to laugh off this dark period of history with memes and forget what they did, and as such, are forgetting the victims of the genocide.

I have 0 tolerance for Nazi things for the sake of HUMANITY, let alone the individual groups they target. I don’t have to have German ancestry or know a single Jewish person to tell you any of this. It’s fucking history.

Eat shit.

[thebrotherscupheadandmugman]

Aviary Action! With Wally Warbles!

Before you read: This is a rewriting of the main game Cuphead. Characters, certain dialogue, music, and locations obviously do not belong to me. This is best read with the OST playing over it. 

Before you start reading, I now have a Patreon you can donate to as well if you should want to support where I wish to take this project! Patrons have unique opportunities to help bring this story to life, so please check it out or become a patron if you feel so inclined! Too young or unable to give financial support? That’s perfectly fine! You can also support this project, and my future ones by reblogging these episodes for free! Oh, and here’s a link to all published episodes. Enjoy! 

                                                                                                                                 The brothers flew around, over the mountain and trees in their Aeroplanes, looking for the next debtor. “You sure he's gonna be up here?” Cuphead asked, looking over to his older brother. “That's what Floyd said.” Mugman quickly glanced down at his watch, then back at the skyline. “Just keep your eyes peeled.” “What are we even looking for?!” “Floyd didn't say.” “Swell,” Cuphead grumbled sarcastically.

Suddenly, a loud cuckoo clock chime echoed across the park, causing both the boys to jump and the milk in their heads to spill just a bit. Cuphead and Mugman looked around to find the source, before Cuphead finally pointed to the center of the second isle. A large, red birdhouse with blue wings circled about, above the balloon tree to gather the patrons' attention as it rang. Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo! “Think that's the guy?” Cuphead asked.

“Well, they're the only other one up here.” Once the clock was finished announcing the time, it started to fly back towards the side of the mountain, where a few bird nests and a large wooden perch were. “Got the scroll, Mug?” Mugman dug into his pocket and pulled out the list of debtors. The sooner the birdhouse saw it and realized they weren't messing around, the sooner they could get this over with.

As the birdhouse flew back to its perch, it quickly caught sight of our heroes before it could land on it. The door of the clock flew open, and a wooden bird on its own, smaller perch was pushed out. The bird then flew out and landed on the blue Aeroplane, right between the pilot and the propeller. “This here's a restricted area. You two lookin' fer trouble?” “Not...intentionally.” “Hey, I will have you know that we are like a magnet for trouble!” “Cuphead, that's not something to be proud of!” “Keep it down!” The wooden bird snapped before flying atop Mugman's nose in order to look down and read the paper he had. “Statechure business!” “We're here with the Devil's office.” Mugman started, a guilty look plastered to his face. “We've, uh, come for Wally Warbles' Soul Contract.” The wooden bird's eyes suddenly widened, and it flew back into the door of the cuckoo clock, pulling the perch back in and shutting the door behind it.

Not long after that, the door sprang back open. “Cuckoo! No!” The door shut once more, only to spring back open moments later. “Cuckoo! No!” Once again the door shut, only to reopen. “Cuckoo! I don't want to!” The door closed, then opened once more. “Cuckoo! No!!” As the door slammed shut one last time, the orange pendulum stopped swinging, and something stretched out from the face of the clock. The pendulum separated into two legs of a bird, and an orange beak tore out from the clock, freeing the head of a red and blue feathered bird. “Bacaaaaaaaawwww!!” He screeched, glaring at the two, young pilots. “If yer thinkin' I'm goin' down quietly, y'got another thing comin'!!” “Open fire, Mugs!” The brothers promptly began shooting at Wally, although their bullets didn't seem to be doing much.

Something seemed to travel up Wally's throat and after a short while, he closed his eyes and spat out a white egg with blue, green, and red spots. “Hueaeaeahhh!” “Ahh!” The brothers both screamed and scrambled to dodge. “What's th'matter? Don't like my scrambled shots? Hueaeaeahhh!” Wally spat out another egg, “hueaeaeahhh!” Then another. “Cuphead, break!!” Mugman cautioned, maneuvering his Aeroplane out of harm's way. “Why is it every time we get in these planes you want me to break?! I said I was sorry!” The three eggs smashed against the edge of the screen behind the brothers, breaking off into three shells each. “Cuphead, six-o-clock!!” “Ya can't fool me, Mugs! He just chimed for three-ow!!” One of the eggshells hit Cuphead's undercarriage as he spoke, leaving a white cross-shaped mark on the aircraft. “Well, ya can certainly tell which one a ya's th'smart one.” Wally taunted. The cuckoo figured that if the red bogey didn't know aviation terminology, that'd certainly make this easier for him. “Hey!!” Before Cuphead could say anything else, Wally's head morphed to form a giant, white-gloved hand with the thumb pressed over the pinky finger, and the other three fingers pointed at Cuphead and Mugman. “What?” “Get ready to br- dodge!” With the flick of the neck-wrist, the hand fired out three large bullets, one from each finger, and the brothers just barely managed to squeeze through the space between the shots. “Gosh, talk about trigger fingers.” “Nail Birds! Engage blue and red bogeys! Send 'em back to th'taxpayers!”

Four small birds with nails taped to their backs flew onto the scene and headed straight for Cuphead. “Ack! Incoming birdies!” “Focus on Wally! I'll cover you!” Mugman flew in front of Cuphead and began firing at the yellow and pink birds. Upon being hit, each little bird made a squeaky cheep and exploded in a puff of smoke and feathers. “Aauugh, why'd they have to make such a cute noise?! Now I feel bad!” “Ya didn't feel bad before?” Asked Cuphead. “Well, I feel even worse now!!” “Hueaeaeahhh!” Wally spat up another egg towards Cuphead, forcing the child to fly downwards to avoid getting hit. “Engage padlocked bogeys!” Wally commanded once more, four more birds flying towards Mugman. “Mugs, our fire ain't doin' anything!” “Get up close, use your new weapon!” Mug strategized, “I'll give you cover fire, you just watch out for his breakfast!” “Get close, don't get puked on. Got it.” Cuphead gave Mugman a thumbs up, then flew in closer to the feathered debtor. Mugman shifted his focus back onto the incoming birds. “Alright, time to hit the nail on the head!”

With Mugman's cover fire, Cuphead was able to inch in closer to Wally's head, soaring over and under any eggs the cuckoo clock spat out, up until the boy managed to hide right over the top of Wally's head, just outside his field of view. “No joy! I've lost visual, Red Casablanca!” Cuphead switched his weapon, and dropped a mini-bomb right over Wally's noggin. “Yeowch!!”

Inside the birdhouse, a small figure stirred. “Shh, go back to sleep, little one.” The voice of the wooden bird tried. “There's nothing to--” A muffled explosion from outside caused the whole house to tilt and shift, startling the small figure.

Cuphead dropped yet another mini-bomb, hitting Wally right on the beak with it, which caused a few of his teeth to fly out. Then Cuphead dropped another mini-bomb right onto his neck, earning a loud yelp of pain from Wally. “Son of a-” Wally's head morphed into a red factory steam whistle as he cursed. “Twooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!” Out of frustration, Wally began to gobble and flail his wings about, launching out the blue feathers from his body. “Wuh-oh!!” Cuphead saw the incoming feathery bullets and pulled back, trying to fly through the small openings he could find, all while keeping his fire locked onto Wally. However, it didn't take long for Cuphead to become overwhelmed, and a feather scraped against his left wing, causing the Aeroplane to tilt down further than he intended, which resulted in another feather scraping his undercarriage. That was what pushed him up in such a way that allowed for two more feathers to hit his wings, which ultimately pushed him back to the edge of the screen, smashing the young cup between the aircraft and the bordering. “Yeesh. Guess we really ruffled his feathers, huh?” Mugman commented. “Oww!” Cuphead whined as his blue spirit began to drift up towards the clouds. “Hey! Don't you dare leave me here to fight this guy on my own!!” Mugman cried, pulling his straw out from his head. A hand formed at the end of the blue straw to grab Cuphead's pink heart, and Mugman yanked his brother's ghost back down into his body. “'M okay...” The child mumbled woozily. “Shake it off, bro. Just keep a consistent fire, but focus on dodging, don't worry about landing your shots. Okay?” “Yeah?” Cuphead answered after he shook his head rapidly to regain his focus.

It wasn't easy, but the brothers managed to dodge Wally's feathers up until he suddenly stopped to breathe. The bird panted as he caught his breath, and Mugman saw an opening. He released the built-up magical energy from his body, and morphed into a smiling Super Bomb that sailed right for Wally. “Oh nooo!” Wally took in one last deep breath and began flailing about again, launching feathers everywhere. Without so much as an animation for it, the Super Bomb's smile turned into a panicked, anxious frown, Mugman did his best to navigate through the barrage of feather bullets, but he was hit just inches away from Wally, detonating before he intended to. “Son of a gu-- ow!!” A feather grazed Mugman's right shoulder, cuing the preteen to pull back towards his brother. “Well, that didn't go as planned.” “Ya probably....still...” Cuphead trailed off, focusing on dodging whatever was coming his way. Although, Mugman still got the message his brother was trying to get across and started firing again. Cuphead was right. With an explosion that large, Wally still probably got hurt from that.

Once again, Wally found himself needing to stop to take a breather. “Dad? What's goin' on?” A young, sleepy voice asked. Before Wally could answer, Mugman managed to fill enough of his Super Meter to attack with an Ex Move. “Now, Cuphead!” Both the brothers pulled themselves into an aileron roll and fired off one Chomper Missile each, right at Wally. Both the Chomper Missiles smacked Wally square in the chest, causing an explosion of blue and red feathers. The now bald bird gasped in pain before falling out of the birdhouse limply. “Dad, no!!” “Wait, did you hear that?” Mugman asked.

After a few moments, the house fell apart, and a small chick in a nest with four, flapping, wing-like leaves attached to the bottom flew out. “He has a son?!” Mugman shouted. The chick glared at the older cups. “You came fer my dad, huh?! Well, you can't take 'im! He's mine!!” “Calm down, kid! We ain't here ta fightchya!” “R-right! We don't want to hurt you, alright? We just need Wally Warbles.” “Well guess what? My name's Wally Warbles Jr.! So if ya wanna take Dad away, ya gotta go trew me!!” “More like Weirdo Warbles,” Cuphead mumbled to his brother. Junior tried to whistle, but he couldn't do it, so he just shrieked instead. “Ommulon Orbiters! Activate!” Suddenly, five spiked eggs circled out from behind his back, surrounding the chick defensively. “Do yer worst!!” “Look, kid, we don't wanna hurt ya! Now scram before-” “Ya misunderstand. My dad's the brawn and I'm all brains! Together, we bring the pain. Hee hee hee hee!” Junior cackled. “Are you serious?! We have to fight a little kid?!” “He ain't givin' us much of a choice, Mugsy.”

Junior flew towards Mugman and watched in amusement as his invention expanded in a perfect, circular formation, which would surely corner those ugly mugs! “Cuphead, watch out!!” Cuphead flew over one of the eggs, finding himself between it and Wally Jr. Although it might have been a perfect opportunity to strike Cuphead, Junior had already cornered Mugman between the bottom left corner of the screen, and one of the spiked eggs. The young chick grinned maniacally and watched as his attack continued to expand outwards towards the blue Aeroplane. “Oh no!!” Mugman had literally backed himself into a corner, with little to no room to escape. “Mugman!!” The mug tensed up, bracing for impact when he suddenly felt himself shrink down. Suddenly, there was a small opening for Mugs to fly through, and the teeny pilot was quick to squeeze through the gap between an egg and the bottom of the screen. “Curses!!” Junior scowled. However, now that Mugman's form was smaller, he happened to be  more aerodynamic and moved much faster than he expected, so he crashed into a second egg before him. Mugman gasped in pain from the force of the impact and in a puff of smoke, the child grew back to normal size, just as the eggs started contracting towards the ceramic duo. “Ahh! Not good!” “I'll show ya fer hurtin' my brother like that!!” As Mugman scrambled to dodge, Cuphead began firing, not realizing the spiked eggs were drawing ever-closer to his plane. “Ouch! Stop dat! Meanies!!” Junior whined. “Cuphead, get outta there!!” “Huh?!” The cup looked back towards Mugman and finally noticed the eggs slowly surrounding him. “How do ya shrink?!” “I-I dunno, just move!!” Cuphead pulled his Aeroplane into a nose-dive as he spun into a sort of corkscrew, just narrowly avoiding a crushing disaster. “Whew!” Cuphead pulled up beside his brother, and firmly pressed the button down on the plane's stick, firing at the fledgling. “Mug, just shoot!!” “R-right!” Mugman followed suit, trying to quickly come up with some sort of plan to take this little fella down without actually hurting him.

“I betchyoo two think yer so smart, eh? Well, guess what? I'm smartah!” Junior pulled out some sort of raygun from inside his small nest and wasted no time in taking his aim and firing with a small giggle. Cuphead was quick to react and flew up and over Junior's shield of spiky eggs, finding himself past the chick. “Ah!!” Mugman did his best to dodge as Cuphead had, but when pulling up, he'd accidentally tilted his right wing up first, rather than pulling the whole plane up at once, and a pink electrical bullet severely damaged the lower wing, bending and tearing the metal in the sky. “No no no no!!” “Gotchya right where I wantchya!” Junior drew closer to Mugman, expanding the eggs out to try and hit him while he was weak. “Mugman, no!!” Cuphead quickly sped around and angled himself between Junior and his older brother, shooting the chick relentlessly to try and protect Mugman. “Ow! Stop it! Ouch!!” Junior whined, the bullets pushing him back just a little with each hit. Mugman grabbed some tape and stood up in his cockpit, after straightening out his aircraft. “Keep him busy! I'll make some repairs!” “Got it!!” Cuphead nodded. “Hey, bird brain!! Where'djya get that toy?! The dump?!” “Yes! And I'll have you know that I made it from broken radio parts and a toaster!! And a buncha other smart thingies an imbecile like you would never understand!!” “Hah! Joke's on you! I don't even know what that means!” “My point exactly!!”

Mugman tied some rope around his waist for safety and then wrapped some tape around his straw and the control stick, leaving quite a bit of room for leeway. He slowly and carefully inched out across the wing of his Aeroplane, until he was close enough to the damaged area. Mugman got on his knees and pushed the bent metal down back to its original place. He taped the two pieces together and pressed the line of tape across the damaged crack before letting go of the roll, watching it fly across the rest of the wing. The tape swung down across the underside of the wing, until Mugman caught it in his left hand, then raveled several more layers of tape across his wing by repeating this process. “Mugman, incoming!!” Cuphead's voice warned, just as Mug tore off the tape from the roll, Mugman looked up to see yet another pink bullet soaring right towards him. Mugman quickly dropped the tape roll and held on to the wing as tight as he possibly could as he pulled his straw out from his head, and yanked. The tension he created in the line was enough to pull his plane to the right, and just out of harm's way.

As his Aeroplane stabilized, Mugman heaved a sigh of relief before quickly crawling back to the cockpit, and removing the tape from his straw and steering. “Thanks, Cup!” “No, no, no!! This isn't fair!!” The child threw a temper-tantrum and pulled out his raygun once again, but before he could fire it, Mugman skillfully shot the pistol right out of the chick's hand, causing him to drop it out of the sky, and breaking the invention upon impact to the ground. “My invention!!” Cuphead began to relentlessly shoot at Junior once more, until the youngster threw down his arms and began wailing, creating raindrops of tears. “Waaaaaaaaaaaaahh!! Waaaaaaaahh! Daaaddyyy, these kids are meeeaaaann!!”

The boys looked at each other. “What good's zat gonna do 'im?” Cuphead asked. “We already knocked Wally out.” Mugman glanced at the ground below. “Now we just gotta find him and get his contract.” Cuphead then noticed something, and his eyes widened in surprise as three drops of milk splashed from his head. “Uh, Mug?!” Mugman looked back in front of them, only to catch sight of Wally on a stretcher being carried up by two, blue, medic birds. Wally was bald, his wounds had been wrapped up in white gauze, he had two black eyes, one of which was swollen shut completely, and he was noticeably missing a tooth. “Wwwwwwwwwwwwwwhaaat?!” Mugman yelped in surprise. “Mister, stop! Yer gonna hurt yerself even more!!” “After ya made m'son cry?! No way!!” Wally growled. “I've worked hard t'keep m'family in tact after th'mistakes I've made! I won't let ya dirty dishes take it all away from me! I won't letchya take it all away from Junior!” “L-look, Mr. Warbles! W-we're sorry, b-but we have no choice!” “Please, just give us yer contract! It ain't like ya got any feathers left ta lose!” The brothers pleaded. “Even without my feathers, you're in for stormy weather!” The feather father, or rather the featherless father, growled, then looked to the only medic he could. “Lefty! Righty! Engage!” Wally hissed out a groan of pain under his breath, and the medic bird at Wally's feet regurgitated a blue and yellow pill capsule into the air. “Does the fighting ever end?!” Mugman brought his plane up to get a better angle to hit Wally with, but just before he could start firing again, the capsule broke apart, and the yellow cap suddenly shot right towards Mug. “Woah!!” Mugman barely managed to pull his Aeroplane down just a tad to gain enough speed in time to dodge the pill. Before the older mug could get the chance to heave a sigh of relief however, Wally suddenly kicked his legs into his own chest. “Pihoo!!” Wally's beak forced itself open as his pupils turned into black X-es and something traveled from his chest, and up his throat. A large red heart pushed its way past Wally's tongue, and out his beak, grinning slyly at the dish pilots as it rose to the air. Cuphead didn't at all hesitate to take his aim at the heart, and start firing. “Mugman, snap outta it!!” Mug shook his head at that. “Right!” Mugman started to fire at Wally, but it didn't seem to be doing anything at all! The red heart suddenly spat out three black bullets at Cuphead and Mugman, then slowly floated back down into Wally's mouth, where Wally immediately swallowed his organ. Mugman was forced to pull his plane back to avoid one of the bullets, as he watched Cuphead steer his red Aeroplane between two of the shots. “Righty! I said engage! Now!!” The blue bird by Wally's head spat out a pill, just as his partner had, and once again, the capsule broke apart and soared towards Cuphead, who pulled into a large barrel roll to dodge. Mugman suddenly got an idea. If one of those medics go down, they'd drop Wally too! Mugman sped his aircraft above Wally's head and switched his weapon. “Here! Have a taste of your own medicine!” Mugman tried to drop a mini-bomb onto Righty, but he had just barely missed, and the bomb dropped to the left of him. Mugman found himself flooded with relief, as he had realized a fall from this height would potentially kill Wally. “Ya think you little cheap chinaware children can just come inta my sky and beat up my boy?! You two got another thin' comin', you puny, tiny, pale little--” Wally's head suddenly morphed into a trashcan as he spoke, sending a pink boot flying towards Mugman. “Ah!!” Mug quickly pulled back, just as the boot soared high in the sky, and Wally spat out rotting fish-bones that rocketed just as high. As gravity pulled the boot down, it just so happened to land onto Mugman's propeller, spinning around and around until it launched into the air for a second time, right as Wally spat out a black boot, and an apple core. Mugman was forced to pull back into a Split S maneuver, twisting and looping his aircraft behind Cuphead to avoid getting hit. As high as the garbage was launched, it seemed to fall just short of hitting the brothers. “You stink!!” Cuphead taunted. “That's the garbage, Cuphead.” Mugman informed, pinching his nose at the smell. “Move closer!!” Wally commanded, and the medics flew his stretcher closer to Cuphead and Mugman. Cuphead switched over to the mini-bombs and began dropping as many as he could onto Wally. The father began to spit out more trash again as he edged closer to the two. Mugman soon realized that he'd collide into Lefty if he didn't move, so he let his plane drop down, only to realize what a mistake that was.

As Mugman tried to move his Aeroplane back to get above Wally, he tapped the edge of the screen, leaving him trapped in the bottom corner. “Huh?! What?! Wait! Th-this isn't fair, I can't move! There's nowhere to go, the projector screen ends!!” The trash quickly began its descent, right towards Mugman. “Just keep shooting at him!” “I literally can't! There's nowhere for me to shoot!” “Shoot his butt!” Mugman sighed but switched his weapon. “Classy. Ah!!” Mugman moved his plane horizontally, one way, then the other, trying to dodge the rainfall of boots, apple cores, and fish-bones, but once there was a break in the garbage, he began firing once again. “Back away from my brother!” Cuphead threatened, dropping more and more bombs onto Wally. “I'd rather have a heart attack and die!!” Cuphead noticed how Wally shifted his legs and zoomed over to his beak just as he kicked his chest once more. Just as his heart was about to ascend from his mouth, Cuphead dropped one last mini-bomb that conked the heart right on the top, stretching the two curves apart and causing it to fall back down into Wally's mouth, just as the bomb detonated.

Wally's head fell limply to the side as his eyes rolled around and around dizzily, moaning just a bit as his whole world rotated ceaselessly. Lefty and Righty grinned and licked their beaks as they ripped off their medic hats, revealing chef hats underneath. They each grabbed the stretcher with their feet and pulled out a salt and pepper shaker, seasoning Wally. “Finally, we got him!” Lefty smirked, licking his beak again. “Huh?!” “We've been after this juicy slice of poultry for years! He'll sell for a fortune once we prepare him!” Righty explained. “Couldn't have done it without ya kiddos!” “Here!” Righty reached into Wally's beak and pulled out his Soul Contract, before wadding it up into a paper ball, and throwing it at Cuphead, hitting him right in the face. “Ack!” “That's what you were after, right?” Cuphead unraveled the wad and checked over the contract to see if it had been forged or not. “Mm-hmm?” He nodded upon confirming the legitimacy. “Take it. Consider it as thanks fer helpin' us find the dinner of the century!” Lefty thanked. “Let's go, we should prepare the oven!” The two birds quickly flew away, landing near the rainbow bridge, freeing Mugman. “They're gonna cook him?!” Mugman gasped in fear. “I think?!” “Wait, stop!!” Mugman rushed to the ground below and frantically landed his Aeroplane, Cuphead following suit.

The brothers chased after the two birds as they attempted to drag the large bird away somewhere. “Stop, don't! What are you doing?!” Mugman cried. “He has a son he's gotta look after!” “What's any of that matter to you?” Lefty asked, tilting his head. “Yeah, ya got his Soul Contract already. What difference does it make if he lives or dies now?” “Yeah!” “And just what do you mean by that?!” Mugman inquired, equal parts worried and insulted. “Yer workin' with the Devil's Office, right?” Righty asked. “Well once you give the Devil his contract, he's as good as dead. His soul will be dragged down to Hell regardless. What difference does it make if he's already dead when that happens?” “Yeah! He's already as good as dead! What's it matter if he dies now or later? At least this way someone will get some sort of benefit from 'im!” “That doesn't matter!!” Mugman shook his head. “All life is precious! It should be protected!” “He's already lived a good life kid.” “So?! All life is precious nonetheless! Age and race doesn't matter!!” “Look, fink!” Righty snapped, “the guy sold his soul to the Devil himself! And that's just what we know about! Who knows what other crimes were committed before any of that! He may be a good father, but that don't mean he was a good person! He sealed his fate ages ago!” “That! Doesn't! Matter!!” Mugman spat back. “All life is precious!” “Just because he made some bad decisions, or maybe did some bad things, doesn't mean he deserves to die for them!!” “Yeah!” “How do ya figure?” Righty asked. “Because! How could he ever change for the better if you end his life?! How could he ever become a good person if you never give him that chance?!” “Well, it doesn't matter now, brats!” Lefty yelled. “He's going to die anyway! What's it matter if it's by your hand, or by ours?!” That seemed to make Mugs lose his nerve. “W-we're not...” “Yes, you are! You're the ones giving his Soul Contract to the Devil himself! You are the ones responsible for that much!” “He...He at least deserves to say goodbye to his loved ones!” Cuphead tried. “Too bad for him! We've been after his hide for years, and we ain't going ta let this golden opportunity slip by!” Righty grinned. “Now then, let's go, partner!” Just as the birds began crossing the bridge, a pink boot whistled as it fell from the sky. Mugman was about to chase after the birds, but Cuphead quickly noticed the whistling, and grabbed his brother's right shoulder to stop him. The boot suddenly clocked Righty right in the head, causing the bird to lose balance and stumble off the rainbow bridge, and right into the shallow waters of Sweetheart's Stream with a shocked yelp. “Woah, woah, hold up, don't panic, I'll getchya out!!” Lefty quickly flew off the bridge and above the stream to help his partner.

The brothers didn't hesitate to rush to both sides of the stretcher, and pull Wally back to the tree by the wooden perch, only to be met with a crying Junior. “D-Dad?!” As soon as the chick caught sight of his father, he pushed his tiny legs through the bottom of his nest and ran over. “Y-yer alive, I-I thought they took you!!” “They tried to.” Mugman informed setting the bird down by the tree trunk. “We just got lucky.” “Y-you saved him!” “He looks bad, Mug.” “I know.” Mugman bit his lip, then turned to Junior. “Do you have a telephone?” Junior stared Mugman right in the eyes and pulled a telephone out from his nest. “Tell the operator you need to take him to the hospital, and give them your address. Okay?” Mugman instructed. Junior nodded and picked up the phone. The mug turned to face Cuphead. “We need to go.” “What? Mugs, shouldn't we stay with--” “Under normal circumstances, we would, but right now, we can't afford to.” Cuphead nodded somberly and joined his brother as the two began walking away. “W-wait, where are you going now?!” Mugman turned his head slightly to look back at the fledgling. “We're going to collect the Soul Contract of Grim Matchstick.” Junior's eyes widened at that. “Grim's a debtor?” His attention was suddenly taken by the phone against his ear. “Ah, y-yes, operator?!” Mugman sighed as Junior talked on the phone. He truly felt bad about leaving this kid all by himself when those two were still so close by. The most they could do is provide a distraction of some sort for Junior, to lead them away, but that was about it. As the brothers started to walk away once again, Junior stopped them. “Hey, w-wait.” Cuphead and Mugman turned around. “U-um, I-I know I p-probably shouldn't do this, b-but you saved Dad, s-so...” Junior felt bad for doing this, but he had to do something for them in return, right? “G-Grim is the security dragon.” “D-dragon?!” Mugman jumped at that. “Yeah. You'll find him in the security castle. Butchya gotta cross both the rainbow bridges to get to it, and the sprinklers fer the second one tend to not work right.” “Okay.” Cuphead nodded. “Thanks, pal.” “You stay with your dad until help arrives. Okay?” “Right.” Junior nodded, hugging his dad's neck as the cup kids ran off.

As the brothers ran past the two birds again, it was evident that Lefty had fished Righty out of the stream, and would probably start searching for Wally soon. Mugman continued to run across the rainbow as he suddenly fired at Righty, causing Lefty to drop the soaked bird back into the water with a splash. “Mug, what are ya doin'?” Cuphead whispered, stopping. “Sh. Just follow my lead,” Mugman whispered back. “Hey! Over here, you two twitty birds!” He taunted. “Catch us if ya can, bird brains!” “Pbthphfhpfhphbphfbpbpt!” With that, the boys ran off once again. “Why you little--!!” Lefty quickly fished Righty back out again, set him on the bridge, then began his pursuit of the brothers.

As the two birds flew past the Mausoleum, our heroes hid inside, knowing that they had successfully tricked the two. “Whew.” Mugman breathed. “Think the coast is clear?” Asked Cuphead. “Not sure.” Mugman shook. “Let's wait a few--” Something behind them suddenly collapsed forward, causing Mugman to jump and nearly run out of the building in fear, but Cuphead outstretched his arm to stop him. “Mugman, relax! Somethin' just got knocked over! Besides, if you go out there, they might spot you!” “R-r-right.” Mugman nodded, horribly shaking as he glanced behind himself to try and find out what fell, but since he hadn't known what the area behind them looked like, that wasn't quite possible. “Relax, we're not goin' in any farther than this.” Cuphead tried, holding his brother's arms to try and comfort him. Cuphead looked his brother right in the eyes until something behind Mugman caught his attention. Something that Cuphead really hoped that his brother wouldn't notice. “R-r-right. Y-you're right.” Mugman nodded, oblivious to the large spider behind him. “W-we'll just w-wait a few minutes, th-then we'll be on our way.” Cuphead wasn't at all listening to what his brother was saying, he was too busy watching the spider slowly creep down towards Mugman. He knew he had to calmly lead Mugs away before he noticed since Mugman had always been terrified of spiders. Cuphead gently pulled Mugman closer to him, and away from the wall, hoping his brother wouldn't notice, but unfortunately, Cup's facial expression alone was enough to tip his brother off. “C-Cups? What's wrong?” Mugman started to turn his head. “D-don't look!” Cuphead stopped. “U-uhh, there's nothing there, I swear! Uh, uhhh, I-I'm just messin' with ya! Hah hah hah hah hah!” He laughed nervously. “You're actin' strange. C-cut that out, it's already creepy enough in here!” Cuphead suddenly noticed that the large spider wasn't alone. Another spider, about the size of a small coin, descended from its web above, hovering all too close to Mugman's left shoulder. There was nothing Cuphead could have said to try and hide it without risking Mugman taking a glance, and he knew it. “Okay, fine...Just whatever you do, don't look to yer left.” Cuphead warned, still trying to pull Mugman away as he crept closer to try and knock the spider away. Of course, Mugman began to sweat at his brother's words. “W-w-w-w-why?” His body began to clink as he shook, slowly turning his head to see what his brother was talking about. Cuphead immediately realized it would have been better to keep his mouth shut.

The second Mug saw the arachnid, the child screeched, and scrambled to get away, but as he turned to make his escape, he caught sight of the larger one that had been less than inches away from his head. Mugman let out a shrill shriek in fear and tried to flee out the Mausoleum's entrance, but three more spiders suddenly dropped down to block him in. Mugman skidded to a stop, falling back on his rear end before frantically climbing to his feet and running deeper into the tomb. “Mugs! Mugman, wait!” Cuphead called, but it was no use. Mugman was in a blind panic now.

After fleeing for what felt like hours to Mugman, he eventually stopped to catch his breath, resting a hand on the wall. The boy looked back behind him, only now realizing he'd left Cuphead behind.  “C-C-Cuphead?” He called, one of his fingers finding something to move. He looked back only to find he'd accidentally pushed a skull and reeled back in fear. “C-C-C-Cuphead, w-w-w-where are you?!” He really messed up this time. “Help!” A voice called. It wasn't Cuphead's, but the voice sure sounded familiar. It was a woman's voice, and it sounded like the cries had been coming from below the staircase around the corner. Against his better judgment, Mugman cautiously took a step closer towards the sound of the voice, until he suddenly found himself at the bottom of the steps. Light from the stain-glassed windows filtered in over a stone urn set on an altar. “S-someone please, save me!” “M-Ms. Chalice?!” Mugman recognized. “Oh! Goodness, me, Mugman, is that you?! Oh, please help! I've been trapped again, open the urn, quickly!” Mugman nodded, and rushed over, jumping atop the altar to try and pry the urn open before the ghosts came out, but it was too late.

Organs filled the air, and ghosts began to moan and groan.  “Ladies and gentlemugs! Get yourselves ready for yet another spooktacular performance from the Specter Syndicate! Boo ha ha ha ha!” Mugman tried to yank the lid off, but it seemed it hadn't planned on budging. Mugman knew there was no way to pull it off before another specter would reach Ms. Chalice. Despite his fear, Mugman lunged forward at a pink ghost with a blue hat, the end of his straw closed up to form a white-gloved hand, and he parried the spook away. Mugman turned around to try and take another crack at opening the urn, but he spotted another spirit from above, going 'woooo' as he glided towards the altar. The mug rushed over and quickly parried that ghost as well, catching sight of yet another hat-wearing specter just below him, and just barely managed to parry-slap him. Mugman soon caught sight of yet another spirit that looked certainly disgruntled and attempted to block his path by spreading out his arms. “N-now just wait a minute! What exactly are you trying to do? W-what will this accomplish?!” The ghost grunted in annoyance, and passed right through Mugman's body. “Ah!” The preteen gasped, turning around and jumping up to parry the spook once again. If this kept up, there was no way Mugman would ever get an opportunity to free Ms. Chalice! “C-Cuphead! W-where are you?! Ah!!” The mug quickly ran up, jumped on top of the altar once more, then jumped across the room as he tried to parry two more spooks, only to miss one. “No, no, no!!” Mugman quickly stood and rushed over to parry the grumpy ghost he missed, heaving a sigh of relief as it disappeared. That was far too close. “Cuphead, i-if you can hear me, p-please hurry!” Mugman quickly tried to parry-slap another specter, but once again, he missed the first time. “I-I need help! I-I need your backup r-right now!” Mugman gasped, rushing to the other end of the room in order to parry another hat-wearing ghost. The boy knew he couldn't keep this up for much longer, but as long as he kept calling for help, Cuphead would eventually find him. “Cuphead! I-if you can hear me, f-follow my voice!!” Mugman heard something behind him, and quickly turned around to find yet another specter reaching out for the stone urn. “No! Stay away from that!!” Mugman lunged at the other, just barely managing to parry the spook away. “Wheeeeee!! Wheeeeeeeeee!! Hee hee hee hee!” The voice of a little girl giggled. Mugman's head followed the spiral patterns the ghost with a bow was making as she danced and twirled about. Mugman jumped at her, but missed the slap, so he waited for his second chance only to miss that as well. As the spook spiraled around and around, and ever-closer to the urn, Mugman grew more and more panicked, especially upon noticing another spirit trying to sneak past him. If he missed her again, she'd reach Ms. Chalice. “Cuphead, please hurry!!” Mugman rushed over to the dancing spook, and successfully managed to parry-slap her, then jumped over to the other ghost and slapped him.

The mug tried to take a moment to catch his breath, but it would seem the Specter Syndicate wouldn't let him have that. Another hat-wearing ghost shimmied down from the top left corner of the room and edged closer to the altar. “Cuphead, please hurry. I can't take much more of this.” Mugs tried to shout, running up to the spirit and slapping him with his straw. Mugman fell to his knees, still somewhat tired from running earlier. Mugman absolutely needed to catch his breath, but he could still hear two other ghosts moving behind him. The child forced himself to get up, and jump over to slap the first one, only to miss the second, and fall to the ground. “No!” Mugman got back to his feet again, but he knew he couldn't make  it to the altar in time. Ms. Chalice was a goner! “Hyiat!” From seemingly nowhere, Cuphead parry-slapped the grumpy ghost, just inches away from the stone vase. “Cuphead!” “I'll get this thing open, you keep 'em off me!!” “Got it!” Mugman nodded, feeling more than ready now that his brother was here.

Two more female specters danced and twirled around the room, and while Mugman got the first one, Cuphead was able to parry the other that he missed. Mugman saw another disgruntled-looking spook above him, and jumped up to successfully parry-slap him as well. Meanwhile, Cuphead tugged, yanked, and pulled on the lid, but with very little progress to show for it. Mugman quickly ran across the room to parry another ghost wearing a hat, only to catch two more female specters on opposite sides of the room. “Cuphead, get that one!!” Cuphead looked up to see the two spooks circling around the altar, and just as Mugman slapped one, he parried the other. “Mugs, I've almost got it, just a little more!!” Mugman nodded, then rushed over to the other end of the room to take out another spirit. Cuphead yanked until his grip slipped. Two more ghosts appeared and Mugman jumped, consecutively parrying them both. “Woah, I-I did it!” “Don't celebrate too soon!” Cuphead gave several more harsh tugs on the lid, just as another female spook twirled around the room, and the second she was close enough to Mugman, he parry-slapped her, just as the lid finally came flying off.

“Victory!!” Ms. Chalice cried, floating out from her stone prison as a twinkling spectral orb, before taking her normal form as a ghostly grail. “Not to mention I managed to find it!” “Ms. Chalice, what are you doing in another mausoleum again?” Mugman asked. “Oh, well, ehehehe.” The benevolent soul scratched the back of her metal head nervously, rather embarrassed by her mistake. “I knew if I rooted around here I could find something special for you! But I didn't know I'd get trapped again!” “Ah, we all make mistakes.” Cuphead waved. “Thanks for saving me a second time. Here!” Ms. Chalice flicked two coins at the brothers, both of which appeared to be exactly the same as the first two coins the Legendary Chalice gave them, only slightly more or less eroded than the other, and with an 'II,' which Mugman realized must have been the Roman Numeral two. “Take this magical Super Art and I'll see if I can find you another!” “Golly! Another? What does this one do?” Cuphead asked eagerly. “This one enhances the connection between the body and soul, allowing you to cross the astral plane to become invulnerable for a short time.” “Good golly gosh!!” The brothers breathed. “Invincibility! That's so incredibly useful! It's sure to come in handy!” Mugman beamed. “Thank you, Ms. Chalice!!” “Consider this a token of appreciation for saving me again! And may we meet again.” Ms. Chalice bowed, before fading away.

“Golly, that worked out better than we thought!” Cuphead smiled. “Speaking of, we should probably shake a leg, those birds are probably gone now.” “Oh, right!” Suddenly, a mischievous spook poked his head out from the wall, and pushed three skulls onto the ground, the sound alone enough to force another shriek out from Mugman. “Eek!! L-let's get outta here!!” Mugman cried, latching onto his brother's wrist as he fled out from the door on the right.

                                                                                                                               Missed the past episodes? Want to check for the next one? Here’s a link to the list of episodes currently published!

[thebrotherscupheadandmugman]

Pyramid Peril! With Djimmi the Great!

Before you read: This is a rewriting of the main game Cuphead. Characters, certain dialogue, music, and locations obviously do not belong to me. This is best read with the OST playing over it. And before you start reading, remember that reblogs > likes! That being said, enjoy!

Blogs with Djimmi as a muse: @djimmi-the-great-and-powerful​ @karnivalkrew​ (that’s me!)

The brothers spread out all eight of the Soul Contracts they've collected so far onto the forest floor. “Moe Tato, Weepy, Psycarrot, Goopy le Grande, Cagney Carnation, Ribby, Croaks, Hilda Berg...That's it! That's all the contracts we need in Isle One!” Mugman cheered, crossing off Hilda's name. “Onto Isle Two then?” “Yup!” The older mug checked his watch. “And it's only 1:45! We're making great time!" “Fantastic! Let's go!” “Right.” Mug nodded. The boys gathered up the contracts and put them back into their pockets, making their way to the Die House of Isle Two.

As our heroes entered the square, orange building, they immediately spotted King Dice on the other side, blocking the way to the next isle. “Well, look what the cat dragged in. For your sake, I hope ya got all 'em contracts, Cupface.” The manager taunted, earning a scoff from the younger child. “As a matter of fact, we do! See fer yerself!” Cuphead pulled out the Soul Contracts again, showing them all to King Dice as Mugman pulled out the list with the names they crossed off. “Well. Ain't that a pip! Looks like you really put the kibosh on them debtors. You can head on over to the next isle.” King Dice smirked, adjusting his blazer. “Plenty more marks for you to lean on there!” “Let's hurry up and make tracks, Cuphead.” Mugman urged, putting emphasis on the later half of his brother's name. “We've got about 33 hours until the deadline.” “Uh, 33? Try again, genius.” “What?!” The brothers asked in unison.

“The Devil said we had until midnight tomorrow!” Mugman reminded. “Exactly. You have until twelve-o-clock, AM...September 30th.” “What?!” “But that's only...!!” Cuphead began to count on his fingers before Mugman finished for him. “That's only ten hours!! We're just two kids, we can't possibly travel all of Inkwell Isle in less than a day! Let alone doing so while having to get all these contracts!!” “You had no problems traveling all the way to Hell and back.” “He....he's gotchya there...” Cuphead had to admit. “Oh come on!!” “This isn't fair!” “Life ain't fair, wheats.” “You can't do this!!” “Oh can't I? That's where you're wrong, half portions! I think you both fail to realize just who I am.” The manager smirked, going silent as he let the bass play for a short while. The furniture around them began to bounce and sway to the music, dancing along to the rhythm.

“I'm Mr. King Dice! I'm the gamest in the land. I never play nice, I'm the Devil's right-hand man!

I can't let you pass, Cuz you ain't done everything! Bring me those contracts, come on, Bring them to the King!” He sang.

“If you haven't finished your task! Haven't worked assiduously... No I cannot let you pass! Don't you mess with me!

Don't mess with King Dice...” Suddenly all the furniture around them grew mouths and teeth, singing to King Dice's song. “Don't mess with King Dice!” “Don't mess with me...” “Don't mess with him!” “Don't mess with King Dice...” “Don't mess with King Dice!” “Don't mess with me!!” The brothers subconsciously took a step back, towards each other. Neither one of them liked the situation they were in, and the singing furniture surely didn't help.

“I'm Mr. King Dice! Heed just what I say... The Devil has his price. And I'll make sure you pay...

I don't have time to mess 'round, And I hope you will agree! Bring me those contracts, Pronto! Don't you mess with me.” The dice practically growled, yet he was still singing.

“Don't mess with King Dice!” “Don't mess with King Dice!” “Don't mess with me!” “Don't mess with him!” “Don't mess with King Dice!” “Don't mess with King Dice!” “Don't mess with me! Ah...” King Dice glanced down at the boys, with a sinister smirk as all the furniture stopped its movement. “Any how, I guess I should take a powder already. Enough bumpin' gums, ya dig?” With that, the die hopped up with a dramatic twist, and spiraled down into a hole that suddenly disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared.

The brothers just stood, clueless as to how to respond. “Well that just wasted like two minutes.” Cuphead cracked. “Ten hours?! Th-this is impossible!! There's no way we can convince everyone to give us their contracts in only ten hours!!” “Mugman, calm down! We ain't gettin' anywhere with you panickin' like this!” “Cuphead, what're we gonna do?! There's no time ta-” “Mug! Calm down!” Cuphead grabbed his older brother by the shoulders and gave him a harsh shake. “Look....I know you ain't gonna like this, but we've gotta stop reasoning with 'em!” Mugman paused. “W-w-what?” “If we waste time trying to convince people to hand over their souls to us, we'll run out of time for sure! We can't try to reason with 'em like that!” “B-but-” “No! It's not gonna work!!” “I...” Mugman sighed. “You're right...” “Course I am. Have I ever steered you wrong?” Cuphead tried to joke, but it only earned a soft glare from his older brother. “Don't even start.” “Oh right...Yeah, that was probably the worst time to say that.” The brothers exited the Die House and entered Isle Two.

As the boys took their first few steps out of the house, they had to stop to take in the land before them. Inkwell Isle's carnival. As run down as most of the rides were, the amusement park had been going on strong for the past 80 years or so. It was always fun to look around, but they hadn't been able to come as patrons in years. They only were able to pass through.

Since it was relatively late in the day, the line to get in was particularly short, so the brothers stepped forward to get in the line, before they suddenly heard an elderly, familiar voice. “Guys, hang on!” The cup kids turned around to see their grandfather, Elder Kettle, just outside the Die House. Cuphead gave a big smile. “Thank the stars I caught up with you. I believe I've found a way out of this mess you're in!” Elder Kettle beamed as he walked closer to his grandsons. “Hawt dog! You have?!” Mugman cheered with a wide, excited smile. Elder Kettle nodded. “Your strength is growing! You'll soon be a match for that no-good King Dice...” The brothers looked at each other. “And maybe even the Devil himself!” Mugman gasped at the thought. “Golly, do you really think?” Cuphead asked. “I do! But you'll never get close to the Devil unless you already have those Soul Contracts in hand!” Elder Kettle shifted his weight onto his cane, extending his pointer finger and his right hand. “Only then will you get a chance to turn the tables on that fiend! So, when that time comes, do the right thing!” “Golly...Turnin' the tables on the Devil himself?” Cuphead wasn't so sure...He was confident in his abilities, but what would happen if they failed? Mugman pondered a similar train of thought. Wouldn't it be better to play it safe and do what was asked? If they won, they'd give everyone their contracts back and life would return to normal. If they lost, the Devil would take their souls forever! But if they do what the Devil told them to, they'd be spared, yet they'd still be condemning so many people to an eternal life of Hell! “Well, I'd best leave you two to it.” “Yeah, yer right, Elder Kettle. We don't got much time, so we'd better shake a leg.” Elder Kettle started to walk away, but Mugs took a step closer to stop him. “Uh, wait!” “Hm? Yes, Mugman?” Elder Kettle hummed, turning around. “Well, I have a question. What would happen if I were to try to use an Ex Move without any magic built up in my Super Meter?” Elder Kettle's eyes widened at that, his mustache frowning into a grim expression. “Hmm...Well, it wouldn't be good, that's for certain.” Elder Kettle pointed to Mugman's torso with his cane. “Your Super Meter is a combined buildup of your natural magic and the weaponized magic I gave you from that potion. Trying to use an Ex Move without the proper magic will simply drain it from the magic in your soul. That would completely drain your energy. If you did that, it would take you weeks, or maybe even months to recover.” “Oh good golly! Ya couldn't have just left it at 'don't do it'?” “If I had there would be two certain young boys who would have tried it out anyway.” The Elder glared, prompting the cup to whistle innocently. “You two are indeed growing stronger. But you must remember your limits. You may have to push them, but please...be careful to not push them over the edge. Watch each other. Take care of each other.” “Of course. Will do, Elder Kettle...and thanks for telling me.” “Anytime, Mugman.” “Next!” “Wuh-oh! That's us! C'mon Mugs, let's get going.” Cuphead reminded, pulling his older brother along by his wrist.”

“Traveling or riding today, boys?” “Ri-” “Just passing through again.” Mugman answered. “Aw man...” “That's all you two do isn't it? Well I suppose you two aren't old enough to putz about unsupervised.” The ticket cashier joked, handing each of the brothers a red rope bracelet. “Remember to give these back to Cathy on the other side of Isle Two, you guys! Have a swell day!” “Thanks, Joe!” Mugman waved, walking past the gate of the carnival. “Is that guy's name really Joe?” Cuphead asked. Mugman simply shrugged, making an 'I dunno' sound. “Everyone's name is Joe these days.” “Hm. True I guess.” Cuphead agreed with a shrug. “Anyway, where do we start?” “I'm. Reading.” Mugman huffed, unraveling the list of debtors. “Let's see...We got...Baroness Von Bon Bon...that...was kind of fun to say...Uh, Baroness Von Bon Bon, Djimmi the Great...Actually...Djimmi...doesn't he run the Pyramid Peril maze?” “I dunno.” Cuphead mimicked with a shrug, “Ask Dih-Jimmi.” Mugman looked over at his brother. “Djimmi. It's pronounced Djimmi.” “There's a 'D' there, not an 'S-H'! 'Duh-Jimmi'.” Mugman sighed rolling his eyes and looking back down at the names. Cuphead then happened to notice an all too familiar pilot standing by a long, orange tent. “Is that Floyd?” Mugman looked up from the list again. “He's standing next to our planes.” “What's he doin' here?” “Let's go ask him.” Mugman rolled the list back up, then put it in his back pocket.

The brothers walked over to the canteen, Mugman giving Floyd a cheerful wave as he got closer. “Floyd, what are you doing out here?” “'N with our planes no less.” “Good timing fellas! I just added an upgrade on your Aeroplanes! On top of your repairs as well, of course. “Wow, really?” Cuphead beamed. “Uh-huh. Now you can wallop your foes with bombs!” “Couldn't we do that with our Ex Move and Super already?” Mugman asked. “That's different, kiddo! That was more like a special attack! But now this is just a different weapon altogether!” “Oh, like the Roundabouts?” Mugman compared.   “The what now?” “Never mind, I think we get it.” Cup said. “So, it's like a weapon we can just change?” “Yup! Just switch your weapon whenever it strikes your fancy! Try it out!!” “Wow! So nifty!! I can't wait to try it!” “Oh....I probably should have started off with this, Red Casablanca...Your plane was too badly damaged, and I only had time to upgrade your brother's.” “What?!” “I'll upgrade it as soon as I can, but if you need your Aeroplanes now, you just won't have the mini-bombs quite yet.” “Aww man!” Cuphead huffed with a pout. “Well...I don't know if we need them...Uh, Floyd, do you know anything about Djimmi? Djimmi the Great?” “Hoo boy. Djimmi is a genie. Big guy. I wouldn't doubt it one bit if your normal bullets do nothing but tickle him.” “So...we need our Aeroplanes.” Cuphead grumbled. “Alright! Let's get ta work then. No one else is gonna take down Shimmy the Great.” “You didn't even try there.”

The screen faded to the next scene, the boys flying around in what seemed to be a vast desert with a complex maze down below. In the center of the maze, were three pyramids with the largest one having a giant Sphinx head as the entrance. The brothers could see some of the patrons of the carnival down in the maze below, working their way towards the center. “Golly! I don't ever remember going through the maze before.” Cuphead thought. “You always said it was stupid. I've always wondered what the ride in the center was though.” “Wait, there's a ride down there?!” “Yeah? See that big pyramid in the middle there? There's supposed to be a ride in there.” “Golly!! That's so nifty!! We shoul-” “Halt! Who goes there?!” A voice boomed from seemingly nowhere. The brothers looked all around before a large, muscular, red genie wearing a light blue-green vest, pants, and a turban with a beige feather attached to a red gem, also wearing a beige belt and black and beige, short arm gauntlets, appeared before them, on a flying carpet, in a puff of blue-green tinted smoke. “Hah hah hah hah hah! I've always wanted to say that!” The genie chuckled, puffing out some smoke from a wooden cobpipe. “Anyhow, I'd ask you two what's up, but I guess the answer would be us, huh?” “Are you Djimmi?” “That's right, ding ding ding, you are correct!! Djimmi the Great at your carnival guiding service! Which reminds me! I'm actually supposed to tell you that this is a no-fly zone, so I'm gonna have to ask you two to land your planes...” Djimmi hissed dramatically. “So sorry about that.” “But...wait, aren't you flying too?” Mugman asked. Djimmi's jaw suddenly dropped, stopping only when it slammed against the blue-green carpet with a loud clang! “By golly! He's right! I've been caught red-handed! Well, my hands are always red I guess. But still! Don't tell my mother, she'll be so disappointed in me! Oh no!! How could I be so easily defeated?!” Cuphead couldn't help but snicker just a bit at that. “Okay, but all joking aside, we're here on business, Dshjimmi.” “That was not even close, Cuphead.” “Uh oh. Not business! Anything but business! Noooo!!” “What's so bad about business?” Mugman asked, raising a brow. “Yeah, what's so bad about it, Shihdimmi?” “You can't spell it without 'sin'! Well, you could try, but it'd probably look really weird. Like...bisnuss.” Djimmi pointed as he spoke, the same blue-green smoke shot out from his finger as the letters B-I-S-N-U-S-S appeared in red neon lights in the sky. “Huh? Why not B-U-S-Y-N-E-S-S?” Cuphead asked. “That spells 'busyness'.” “Well, you're the smart one, aren't ya?” “Heh. I'd like to think so.” Mugman admitted. “But we're on a time-limit, uh, so...we're only gonna ask once?” “Yeah, we have a question fer ya!” “Well, I have an answer for ya!” “Look Dihgemie, we can either do this the easy way or the hard way. Yer choice. Give us yer Soul Contract.”

Djimmi's eyes widened at the mention of a Soul Contract, his playful grin fell into a shocked frown. Low, ominous bass tones began to play as Mugman caught Djimmi's expression, allowing his stomach to drop. “Why do I get a bad feeling about this?” “Oh, probably because I'm doing this.” Djimmi's body was revealed to have changed to form a string-bass, and that he was the one strumming the ominous music. “But in all seriousness,” Djimmi twirled around, returning to normal, “No.” “You don't understand, Mr. The Great!! We need it!!” “I can't just give you my Soul Contract!!” “Look, Dshjushujshjudgejimmi! If ya won't give it to us, then we'll just hafta take it by force!!” “If that is what you wish!! You will feel the wrath! Of Djimmi! The Great and Pow-OOF!” Cuphead suddenly opened his fire at Djimmi, cutting the genie off from his sentence. Djimmi dramatically keeled over, and fell off his carpet, which swooped down after him and vanished from the screen completely. “Cuphead!! At least let him finish!!” Several versions of Djimmi suddenly began playing 'Amazing Grace' on bagpipes from down below, all wearing traditional Scottish kilts. “Somehow, I think he's just fine.” “Ugh, I hate bagpipes!!” Mugman complained. “Yer the one with the bombs! You can shut them up y'know.” Mugman pressed a new button inside the cockpit of his plane, then pressed his thumb down on the stick, dropping a mini-bomb onto the Djimmis below. As the bomb exploded, all the genies turned charred, black, and wide-eyed before crumbling into ash. A drum and a trumpet began to play as the boys noticed the cob-pipe Djimmi had in his mouth floating in the middle of the air. Djimmi's voice audibly took a deep breath, a light gray smoke puffed up from the mouthpiece to form his figure. Djimmi removed his cob-pipe with his right hand, then let out a large puff of smoke that formed Cup's head with X-es for eyes. “Ah!” “Oh!” The brothers coughed at the tobacco smoke in their faces, attempting to wave it away so they could breathe and see. “Behold!! The Chest of Challenges!” Djimmi pulled his carpet out from underneath himself and a large golden chest flipped out from the rug. The genie crossed his arms with a wide, forced grin as the golden chest's lid flapped open. “Really, I think you boys would love it! It's really the cat's meow!!” Suddenly a golden cat sarcophagus flew out from within the chest, soaring towards Cuphead and Mugman.

The brothers split apart, Mugman opting to get up higher, whereas Cuphead sank lower to avoid the attack. The sarcophagus suddenly split open with a meow and a metallic bink, launching kitty-like scarab-beetles that followed the boys' Aeroplanes. “Skull Shot!” Djimmi's head suddenly grew very large and stretched out when his skull launched from his mouth, as if being pulled out by the teeth. As Mugman moved to dodge the golden scatrab-beetles, he found himself cornered and with no time to react. Djimmi's skeleton-jaw opened wide, and clamped down on Mugman's plane as he flew into the mouth before going off-screen. “You look the fool, falling for the first trick I learnt at genie school.” “Mugman!!” Cuphead growled and began firing at Djimmi once again. “What's the matter? Not a cat person? Aw, now that's just clawful, who doesn't like cats? Unless you're allergic. Or maybe cat's just got your tongue.” Djimmi joked, sticking out his tongue to reveal a white and black cat clinging onto his tongue for dear life. “Mrowr?” “I'm back!!” Mugman suddenly flew back into view, just above his brother. “Oh thank golly.” Cuphead breathed. “Shoot him!!” “On it!” Mugman began firing bullets at the genie, all while the cups tried to avoid the scatrabs chasing after them. “Take this, Dahsjshuzjh-” “Just stop trying.”

Djimmi could see that the boys weren't having as much trouble as he'd hoped, so he put up his hands in the shape of a 'T' as if to call for a time-out. “Wait! Hang on. This isn't working. We need something else. Hmmm...” Djimmi lifted up his arms half-way, as if he were meditating while he thought. “Hmmmm! Hmmmm....” Two stone bars appeared above and below Cuphead and Mugman, as if there was suddenly a floor and ceiling while Djimmi himself slowly vanished. “Wha...Where'd he go?! Did he run away?!” Mugman began to panic. “He can't get away that easy!!” The brothers flew faster, only to find themselves in front of a pillar comprised of Djimmi's various body-parts painted on stone. “Wuh-oh!!” “Guess the odds are really stacked against you now, huh?! Wuhahahaha!!” His laugh seemed to echo throughout the desert, and unable to stop their planes, the brothers found themselves slowing their Aeroplanes down as much as they could so as to not crash, but if nothing was done, it would be inevitable. “Mug!! Whadda we do?!” “Uh, keep firing!!” The boys did just that, however it seemed as if nothing was working, up until a stray bullet hit Djimmi's laughing face, causing him to flinch with a loud, “Yeowch!!” “His face!!” Mugman called out. “Wuh-oh!” “Hey, that's my thing!!” Cuphead whined as both the brothers aimed right at the new-found weak spot. “Wait, really? Whoops, my bad. Aagh!!” Djimmi's face suddenly exploded into crumbles with a puff of white smoke, only for the brothers to be met with a saw-blade in between them and the next pillar. “I kinda saw that coming, honestly.” Djimmi grumbled over the saw.

The brothers were quick to locate the next face, but just as quick to find themselves trapped by the blade. “Hang on, follow me!!” Mugman swiftly glided up and over the saw and quickly switched his weapon over, bombing Djimmi's face, which crumbled instantly. “Ow!” “Let's try to hang back here and wait for an opening!” “There's his face! In the center!!” “But I don't wanna be the center of attention! Or maybe I do? Actually, I do!” Mugman got up close and dropped another bomb on the stone face. “On second thought I don't.” Djimmi's face said as it crumbled to pieces. Once again, the brothers hung back and waited to spot the weak point before trying to break it while dodging the saw. Only this time, there were two faces. “One on top!” “And one below!” “Now there's two ways to go!!” They both chimed. “Wait, isn't that a bad thing?” “Oof!” Mugman bombed the upper one that happened to just a bit closer to them. Once again, the brothers quickly located the weak spot in the center of the next pillar, but this time Djimmi had a bored expression, as if he knew what to expect, and once again, his face was bombed. Finally, only one last pillar stood in their way, Djimmi's face was right at the very top. This time, Mugman had to wait for an opening, but once it was there, he wasted no time in flying up and dropping another bomb. The whole pillar disappeared in a puff of smoke, Djimmi transformed back into his normal self, and waved the stone floor and ceiling away with his left hand. “Yeesh, what are ya, the Blue Bomber?” A hand trailed up to loosen up a necktie that hadn't previously been there moments ago. “I can't believe it, I'm losing to a mug!” “Blue Bomber?! How'd you know my code name?!” “Huh? That's your code name? Who knew? I didn't. I was just referencing a game!” “What kinda game uses 'Blue Bomber' at all?!” “One for the NES.” “The N-E...What?” “This is a cartoon from 1934, what are you talking about?!” Cuphead questioned. “Cartoon? I thought this was a video game!” Djimmi snapped his fingers and a large book appeared in his hands, along with some eyeglasses on his face. “Maybe I should have actually read the script I guess.” After glancing over the script for a few moments, Djimmi then snapped his fingers again, disappearing into yet another puff of smoke.

“Let's split up for a little bit! Just until we know what he's doing!” Mugman suggested. “Right!” Cuphead nodded. Suddenly, a gold and blue sarcophagus of the genie descended from above, stopping just short of the edge of the screen. His right hand reached over and opened the coffin, and from the cosmic nebula within, Djimmi, a slug of his former self stretched out with an oddly high-pitched, “Yaaaaaaaah!” “Ew, what the heck?!” “Must be feelin' sluggish.” Cuphead thought. Mugman figured the mini-bombs would make quick work of the slug genie, so he got in close and continued to drop bombs onto Djimmi. Cuphead on the other hand, was forced to stay low, and shoot at the sarcophagus normally. “Go, my Dummy Mummies!!” Suddenly, mummies with a striking resemblance to Djimmi flew out at the boys, groaning out, “Raaaahhh.” “Ah!! A mummy!!” No sooner than Mug had said that, the next mummy that flew out wore an apron and a beehive wig over the wrapped up turban. “Raaaahhh.” This time, the groan sounded as if Djimmi himself were making a rather poor attempt to sound like a mother. “Leave the nice genie man alone! Or else you'll be grounded for the next two months!!” “Oh no, so scary.” Cuphead deadpanned with a sarcastic tone, before shooting at the mummy, making it fade away. “So, ya want scary eh? Put up ya dukes, fellas! Hiya!” Djimmi's eye sockets extended out, launching out his eyeballs that formed planet rings around themselves, at the brothers. “Woah!!” Cuphead scrambled to dodge, turning his plane harshly as he accidentally pulled into a roll to avoid the projectiles. “Oopsie. Talk about an Eyeball Mishap. How'd that even happen?” Another mummy flew out, and headed straight towards Mugman. “Huuuuuur-” The Dummy Mummy was cut off as it just so happened to cross the path of the mug's next incoming mini-bomb before he could process the incoming attack. “Y'know on second thought, maybe that Eyeball Mishap worked out better for me. Hiya!” Djimmi launched out his eyeballs yet again, but this time, Cuphead wasn't able to dodge, and as one eye pushed his left wing down, the other pulled right wing up, forcing the red plane into another roll that caused the young pilot to lose control. “Ahh!! No, no, no, no!!” “Cuphead! Don't over-correct, and pull up!!” With that bit of advice, Cuphead managed to level out his plane again, and pulled up. “Whew..” “Aw man, you were really on a roll, kid!” The boys both focused their efforts, and as Cuphead's bullets hit Djimmi the slug right in the neck, one of Mugman's bombs conked him right on the head, forcing his teeth to protrude outwards from his mouth. “Ouch! I mean-! Is that the best you got?!” Mugman got some distance , then lowered himself to meet Djimmi's sluggish form. He then pulled himself into an aileron roll, and forced the magical energy from his body out, launching a blue Chomper Missile. However, the missile would never hit the slug genie, as the second he saw it incoming, he shivered in fear, and quickly closed the sarcophagus, who's once serious face now shed a single tear before it hopped away. Boink, boink, boink, boink, boink, CRASH! The screen shook as the sound of breaking glass was heard off-screen.“Owie, I got glass in my eye! Aahh!!” The brothers gave each other a shared look of unamusement.

As they looked forward once more, they saw Djimmi before them again, meditating just as he had been earlier. A thin, clear swirl surrounded his head and face as he rolled his head in a clockwise motion. “Huh? What's he doing? Wo-woah...” Mugman mumbled, suddenly feeling completely out of it, as if someone was peering through his memories. The same clear spirals slowly materialized over the boys, but only for a few moments before Djimmi's turban suddenly transformed into a massive light-bulb. “That's it! Hah hah hah hah!” The brothers finally managed to snap out of the strange trance once the spirals went away, just in time to spot a smaller version of Djimmi's turban slowly floating and spiraling down towards them. “Since you two are so fond of playing the roll of the Devil's little puppets...!” Djimmi suddenly changed into a large, disembodied hand that quite clearly belonged to him, he then grabbed a wooden control bar that appeared from seemingly nowhere, and flew up off the screen. “Introducing, for the first time ever, Puphead!!” A wooden marionette flew up, bouncing once the strings suddenly stopped moving. However, this hadn't been just any simple marionette, as his head took the shape of a wooden mug, with a small red nose, and a straight, blue-green straw sticking out, from the head. Puphead also wore a light red t-shirt with matching red shoes and shorts that matched his straw. Mugman shuddered at the sight of the wooden doll, he'd never liked marionettes, they creeped the heck out of the poor preteen, and the similarity to his little brother and himself didn't at all help.

Puphead skipped along through the air, inching closer to the brothers before his legs suddenly stopped moving. He stuck his right arm out and pointed, a small hole opening up at the tip of his finger as his head fell over to the right, limply.

“Wuh-oh.” Puphead's whole arm began to vibrate as he began shooting at the brothers. Three large, round blue bullets flew out at the boys, and one last pink bullet sailed straight for Mugman! The end of his blue straw closed up as a gloved hand formed. Mugman rolled forward, and parried the round bullet successfully. “I did it!!” “Mugs! Keep firing!!” Mugman tried to use his mini-bombs, but with the shells flying out the way they were, Mugman couldn't get close enough to reach the puppet. He switched his weapon back, keeping a constant line of fire as Puphead shot four more round bullets at them.

Suddenly, Djimmi's mouth appeared from the bottom of his turban, and small black bullets shot out in a circular shape from the red gem. “Woah!!” Cuphead panicked, attempting to dodge the smaller bullets, only to run into the large pink one, leaving the nose of his Aeroplane with a white X-shaped bandage. “Cuphead!” “Don't worry kids! This beating's for free – no strings attached!” Djimmi taunted, firing out more bullets in sync with his little puppet. Djimmi knew just how to defeat these kids. Overwhelm the red one, and frighten the blue one. Unfortunately for our heroes, Djimmi's little scheme was working. Cuphead's Aeroplane couldn't stand much more, but there was no way Mugman would be able to fight on his own! “Cuphead!” “I-I'm fine! Let's just end this quickly!!” Cuphead scowled. He knew they could do this, but he also knew he couldn't last much longer. Mugman looked over at Puphead, assessing the situation. It would seem Puphead was created from their own memories. So if this were Cuphead before him, or even himself, where would he need shoot? Mugman knew he wouldn't want anyone hitting his handle, but there was no way to reach it on the puppet from where they were. What about the belly? Cuphead's tummy was always ticklish, but it also seemed to bruise easily. Wait, that was it! “Aim for his belly!!” Cuphead flew lower, keeping his fire constant as he focused more on dodging the bullets from Djimmi and Puphead, as Mugman flew up to be at straw-level on the marionette. Once there was a break from Djimmi's bullets, Cuphead was able to focus his aim properly, and fired right where he expected Puphead's belly button to be. It was evident that the puppet tried to move his hands to cover his stomach, but the tension in the strings wouldn't allow for it. Cuphead kept up his fire, trying his best to keep an eye on the turban behind him. Puphead evidently didn't like that one bit, his legs curled up to block the fire and he straightened up his head, only to lower it to try and protect his tummy. Mugman seized the opportunity and opened fire the second he saw the handle on the back of his head come into view. With a puff of smoke, Puphead's face changed to have X-es for eyes and a frown, as his hands folded up, and his straw formed a halo. “Knockout!!” “Huh?” “Wait that's it? Whew! Thank golly that's over with.” Cuphead sighed.

“Sike!” Djimmi appeared before them with a puff of smoke, he whistled, signaling for his turban to float back onto his head. “Betchya didn't know I could throw my voice like that, did ya?” Djimmi yanked the corner of his mouth off his face and chucked it at the brothers, and much like a boomerang, his grinning mouth came back to him, Djimmi catching it in his hand. He placed his mouth back on, but rather than the usual grin he'd been giving the brothers from the beginning, it almost seemed like he was gritting his teeth at them. “.gnorw no siht tup syawla I !spoohW” Using his two index fingers, Djimmi pushed the two corners of his mouth, twisting it until his grin was right-side up again. “But in all seriousness...Now I'm really mad!! You may be able to shoot magic finger guns and launch little bombs and drink outta your own heads, but can you do this?!” Djimmi twirled around as he descended downwards and out of view. “Um...probably?” Mugman shrugged. Suddenly, Djimmi spiraled back into view, four times larger than he had been just moments ago. His eyes glowed yellow, and he circled his gigantic hands in a confusing-looking motion. Three magical pyramids faded into view, each with a closed, light blue-green eye on all four sides. “Um, never mind!!” “W-woah!” Cuphead bit his lip nervously, looking at everything around him as he kept his thumb firmly pressed over the shooting button. The three pyramids circled the brothers, Djimmi shot them a glare and four clear rings shot out from the gem on his turban. “Cuphead, move!!” Cuphead pulled into a nose-dive, but almost crashed right into a pyramid in the process. “Ah!” Suddenly the pyramid's eyes opened, and Cuphead flew away, feeling that he should flee. After five seconds, four purple cosmic beams fired out from the pyramid, pointing up, down, left, and right, cornering Cuphead as he tried to avoid the beams. “M-Mug...” The child was close to trembling, this was far too much for him, and what's worse was that Mugman didn't seem to hear him. Djimmi smirked, then fired another set of mental rings at Cuphead. The boy saw them coming, and tried to steer out of the way, but doing so caused him to fly into one of the cosmic beams, just before its fire stopped. “Aaaahh!!” Cuphead shrieked, the cosmic blast hitting his body hard. “Cuphead!!” Mugman flew over to his baby brother. “Cuphead, are you alright?!” “Mugman, I-I can't d-do this!! Th-there's too much going on, I-I can't--” Cup shook his head, tears starting to build up in his goggles. “Cuphead, yes you can, I know you can! Alright?!” “B-but Mugman!!” “Shh! Don't worry about that, alright?!” “One more hit, and my plane's going down! I-I can't!” “Just hang on, alright! I won't let you go down!! Just stay calm, take deep breaths, and keep firing! Don't worry about whether or not you're hitting him, just keep shooting and dodging!” “That's what I've been doing!! And it's not working!!” “Just a little bit longer! Okay?!” Mugman expelled the magic of his full Super Meter from his body, melding and morphing with his Aeroplane as he formed a Super Bomb. He flew close to Djimmi, only to be hit by a sudden cosmic beam, causing him to detonate early. “Mugs!!” Mugman backed up from the explosion, flying right next to Cuphead. “I'm not hurt...Shaken, but not hurt.” Mugman bit his lip, having just lost his plan. “I wasted my Super.” There was a pause as the brothers stared down the large genie. “I have one.” “What?” “My Super Meter's full! But there's no way I could make it to him if you couldn't!!” “I know you can do it, Cuphead! Just wait for my cue, alright?” Cuphead looked ahead, worried. It took him a moment, to decide before he glanced at his brother with a soft nod. “Alright...” So the brothers waited, never ceasing their fire on Djimmi.

Soon the pyramid's cosmic rays vanished, and Mugman saw Cuphead's opening. “Now!!” Cuphead unleashed his Super, melding with his Aeroplane as he sailed towards Djimmi. Mugman then noticed another Pyramid open its eyes, and feared Cuphead wouldn't be able to move over it in time. “Cuphead!!” The cosmic beam shot out, just barely missing Cuphead and allowing him to get even closer. “What?! No!!” Djimmi fired another set of rings at the Super Bomb, but Cuphead managed to swivel under them. Djimmi gasped after he saw it, just as Cuphead crashed right into his cob-pipe, causing him to inhale and choke on the tobacco inside. Djimmi began sputtering and coughing, puffs of smoke coming out of his mouth as he did. “You did it!!”

As the final few notes rang out, Djimmi shrank back down to his normal size, his magic carpet allowing him to stay within the boy's view as his massive coughing fit knocked him to his arms and legs. “Ha! Take that, Djimmi!!” “Hey, you finally got his name right!” Cuphead paused. “I did!” He beamed. “But, Djimmi...We need your Soul Contract.” Djimmi was too busy coughing and gasping still, but with the snap of his fingers, the contract appeared before Mugman. Mugman looked it over before plucking it from the air, and shoving it into his cockpit for the time being. “Thank you...Come on Cuphead, let's go. Floyd's not gonna be too happy when he sees your plane.” “I...Yeah, let's go.”