Chapter Text
A cyanotic light flashed on the tree trunks, coloring the grasses in a bizarre way, and when the swirl of water on the surface subsided, the decrepit hermit began his rhyming tirade in a thunderous voice:
"I AM QUADRATUS,
THE GREAT AND WISE.
COME CLOSER, YOUNG ONES,
SO THAT I MAY.. ...Oh, it's you two again!!"
“Hi, Quadratus!!” Cuphead waved his hand furiously.
"Hurry up, Cuphead! We don't have any more fizz!!"
"Oh, yeah! It expires like milk!!" he remembered. "Look, Quadratus, we are looking for the Easter Egg par excellence!! Can you tell us where it is...?"
Quadratus, who already basically lived resigned having to spend eternity like a big face drooping in a puddle, looked at them like a worker looked at a bawling newborn after 18 hours of work in a factory.
"..And I guess you're asking because it's a matter of life and death..."
The two brothers looked at each other.
After all, life was a matter of priorities: everyone honored their existence in that strange world by dedicating their time to what mattered most. And of course, if that something was unfortunately missing, the consequences could be devastating!
You could die for a thousand causes that were'nt natural: die of fear, die of love, die of anger, die of pauperism, sadness, embarrassment or stupidity.
As for the two boys, their greatest fear was dying of boredom. And if the risk was to waste an afternoon looking into each other's eyes, it wasn't a lie at all, to say: "That's right, Quadratus!! It's a matter of life and death!! Quick, share your wise advice!!"
Quadratus sighed in resignation, and suddenly his tone was solemn and imperious again.
"THE EGG OF EGGS
IT IS NOWHERE FOUND!
YET YOU CAN FIND IT EVERYWHERE,
IF YOU LEARN TO LOOK AROUND!
OBSERVE WELL, BEYOND REASON,
BECAUSE THE LIMITS OF IT ARE PRISONS!
REAL OR ASTRAL IN THE WORLD, THE LAW
IT MUST ALWAYS BE FOLLOWED WITHOUT FLAW!"
With that said, the magical wind that had risen fell silent along with him.
Cuphead quirked an eyebrow.
"I didn't understand: so we have to imagine it??!"
"Well, that's not what I said... Look, there's no easy way to explain it! I did the best I could. You have chosen one of the most difficult things to search for! Take it or leave it!"
"Ugh.." Mugman sighed. "Okay, let's take it! Thanks, Quadratus. We'll think about it!"
"WAIT! There's one last thing you should probably know..."
Cuphead and Mugman, who were already walking away, turned both cups 180 degrees.
"IF THE EGG IS FOUND IN ORDER,
NEXT YEAR WILL BE RICH,
AND THE SEEKER REWARDED!
BUT AT THE WHITCHING HOUR THAT DAY
IF THE SHELL WILL BE DAMAGED
THE SEEKER WILL SUFFER IN DISMAY!"
"Oh. So if we find it we have to make sure it doesn't break before midnight! Got it!" Mugman said.
"Good... now, if you'll excuse me, I have a pie in the oven. Goodbye!"
And he disappeared in a whirlpool of gushing water.
"What, a pie in the oven?!! There isn't even an oven in there!" Cuphead protested.
"Maybe it was a nice way of saying he wanted to cut it short!"
"Hmmm.." Cuphead rubbed his chin. "He said that the laws of the world must always be followed without flaw. What was he referring to, exactly..?"
The Sun, increasingly dizzy from the afternoon sleepiness, yawned lazily at the aerial passage of a very generic bird with white plumage. And since yawning is contagious, the bird also indulged in a display of laziness, flapping its wings softly.
Like all the generic birds of Inkwell, it usually tended to be much livelier around five PM; but today he found himself chattering for at least half an hour with a green parrot that was more dead than alive, and he was devastated by boredom. Not that the owner was much better than him: both seemed soulless.
Being therefore distracted by sweet thoughts and the length of the day, he certainly couldn't pay attention to whatever was thinking of climbing vertically up the sky at three hundred kilometers per hour. Also because nothing on the islands could fly three hundred kilometers per hour, and above all not vertically.
"Let it not be said that I really can't find an egg as big as me, and so cute!" said the Devil, scanning the horizon from under his outstretched hand, and spinning on the spot like a weather vane.
Rising much, but much more slowly with his wings, Henchman reached him. "Have you seen anything yet, boss..?"
"Hmm.. It will be better to split up." said the Devil. "It will probably be hidden in the most difficult places to reach! Otherwise everyone would see it!"
"Um..boss.." Henchman clucked worriedly. "The book said that you can't usually see it! Only if you know it's there and want to find it can it appear.."
"Thanks, Henchman!" he said annoyed, floating. "I don't need to be reminded of what I already know!"
"But that means that it can also be very visible! What's the point of hiding it in a far and hard place if people don't know how to reach it anyway?" mused Henchman, who despite his status as a valet-waiter-cleaner always found time to be clever too.
"Well... I would take it to a far and hard place AND I would make life difficult for those looking for it!!" He declared. "So, you search the river! I'll take care of the mountains!"
"Um...boss..?"
"WHAT???"
"On your head.."
The Devil turned his large eyes upward to notice the mane of feathers. He whipped his head like a cat.
"Get a move on and go find that egg now!! And make sure you WANT to find it!! We don't have all day!!" he said, darting towards the mountains.
“Okey-dokey, boss!!” replied Henchman, fluttering happily towards the river.
Being a demon could have many benefits. But if you weren't equipped with a magic Trident or a pair of wings, in short if you found yourself necessarily forced to use your legs, insensitivity to fatigue was not included in the list of benefits. And you found yourself gasping on the last of the 43,956 steps with the air bellowing out of your lungs, even after 110 years of honorable service in Hell.
Logically there followed a minute or two of contemplation, crouching on the grass of the undergrowth to ensure the survival of his material shell.
And another minute to sweep his clothes of any imperfections. (Damn twigs!). And yet another to evoke servitude. And another to have the sweat wiped away. And to have cologne put on. And to have his mustache straightened. And to better color the dots on the various sides.
In short, when he thought he could enter the Spanish Court without being ashamed, King Dice put the cards back in the deck and looked at the plebeian bush that surrounded him.
"What a strange idea to put a stairway to hell in the middle of a forest!" he said to himself, looking at the arrow-shaped sign reading "HELL" pointing towards the stairs.
"The boss has no reason to hide! However, if you think about it, who knows why he put up stairs in the first place!" he said, raising his hands in puzzlement and glaring at whoever was staring at him while reading the pages of this story * "He usually uses the elevator! And if the elevator doesn't work anymore, he can always go out with the pitchfork!"
That said, (and said to those who wouldn't have known) he began to pace that wildness, clashing in the context like an odalisque in a convent.
"So, an egg that is there but isn't there. Will it be in a specific place, or will it be enough to wish for it..?"
He was quietly humming a scat tune to what seemed "woody" to him as he moved to the most path-like part, when all of a sudden he heard voices.
Those damn little voices. And he couldn't be wrong, because the few times he had the pleasure of sleeping peacefully, they often came to haunt him with nightmares!
"I say it has something to do with it, Mugsey! Think about it! Elder Kettle was reading that book that morning!"
"No, I think it has to do with the reflection! He saw the egg in the puddle!"
King Dice gasped. "What??!!"
Quick as a hare, he moved behind a mulberry bush and pricked up his ears. Or rather, he sharpened anything strange that would allow him to hear sounds, given his lack of ears. The beauty of being an Inkwellian was this too: anatomy was a crazy inker's joke.
"..And what if he hadn't actually seen the Egg of Eggs? You know, maybe he was tired and hungry, reduced to a rag! Or he remembers it wrong because his uncle hit him too hard.."
"Don't talk nonsense, Quadratus confirms his existence, don't you think..?" Cuphead said confidently.
"Hmm.. Well, yes, actually you're right.."
"The Egg of Eggs??" King Dice frowned. "These little guys are looking for him too, then! Why do they always have to be around??"
And, silently, he continued to spy on the conversation by moving into the bush.
"Quadratus said you can find it everywhere, if you learn to look around! Maybe it doesn't matter where we actually are!"
"True! But then what made Elder Kettle only see it at that moment??"
Cuphead let his arms fall to his sides and stared off into space. "Well, actually one would think that he was reduced to a rag and had hallucinations.."
"There must be something we missed..!"
"If you learn to look around.. the law must be followed without flaw.." Cuphead and Mugman mused as they moved away from the demon's hideout.
He jumped out of the bush as soon as they were far enough.
“It was as I thought!” he said to himself. "It could be here too, if I find a way to make it appear... But how...?"
Henchman emerged from the cold waters of the river, lifting his scuba goggles to examine his haul.
It was an entirely yellow colored egg with little fish on it in different shades of blue, light blue and aqua green.
He absolutely didn't believe that it was the much-coveted object, but he flapped his wings in jubilation anyway: he had wanted to go egg hunting for thousands of years, and the satisfaction of finally finding a little egg all by himself was priceless!
Henchman certainly didn't complain about his job: he was privileged compared to the other demons. By a lot! He could do almost anything he wanted, including allowing himself to not be as bad as the others!
However, every now and then, he understood his boss: it was nice, after all, to have fun with mortal pastimes!! There were lots of pretty things to do: games, gifts, parties with friends, and indeed treasure hunts! He had to say it: the King of Hell knew how to have a good time!
And having to always be bad was really boring and depressing. Henchman may have been an imp, but he was an imp with a heart of gold: there was a difference between having to do unpleasant things and having fun doing them! With this in mind, he happily flew over to check on his boss's progress.
"Hey, boss!! How's the search going??" he shouted towards the mountain, trying to echo himself with his hand.
"Look!! I found an egg too, even if it's not the right one!! It's the first time I've found a..!" And he couldn't say anything else, because the roar of a colossal volcanic explosion colored his figure red, eyes wide open.
The mountain had just shot out a column of lava, and was now streaked red like strawberry-cream candy. The small black form of the Devil hurled himself against the luminescence of the fire, the golden trident shining beautifully in his folded arms.
"I don't get it! I was sure it was in there!!" he complained, as Henchman flew towards him, reducing himself to a lanky cube of jelly. "I thought the easiest and most spectacular way to find him was to bomb him out with a nice explosion!! Who knows why it didn't work.."
"Eeeeehm...boss..? I think that would risk breaking it!!"
"What are you saying, Henchman!! It certainly can't be broken that easily, otherwise what kind of Egg of Eggs would it be?? I'll try again!!" he said, pointing the trident.
"WAIT, BOSS!!" Henchman tried to say in extremis.
And it was then that the trident spat out a tongue of fire (which seemed to mock him) and a puff of smoke.
And then nothing more.
"BUT!!" the Devil slammed his pitchfork in the air a couple of times, but the response was the same as before. Tongue of flame and smoke.
"What's happening? Why isn't it working?"
Henchman jumped as if a light bulb had suddenly gone on in his head.
"Boss!! Didn't Stickler say you were losing your powers..?"
"GASP!!" The dramatic realization hit the Devil like a debt. "It can't be!!"
“I'm afraid so, boss!” muttered the imp with a distraught look.
The Devil narrowed his large yellow eyes to slits.
"I've got to find that Egg!! Hold it for a minute, Henchman!!" he gnashed, slamming the pitchfork into his servant's hand. "There are alternative ways to poke around a volcano!!"
Henchman carefully turned the trident over.
"Hum, boss?! How did you come to the conclusion that the egg of eggs is RIGHT in there, of all possible places?" Henchman said urgently, finishing the sentence with a questioning flap of his wings.
"Tze!" the Devil stood up straight: "My Dear Henchman... It just so happens that I don't NEED to come to conclusions. I KNOW things! And in this case, I KNOW that the egg of eggs is RIGHT in there! " And he said it with the boastful tone of someone who expresses his thoughts mostly to convince himself.
“Oh…” Henchman began to get a little suspicious. “So… Why in there?” He asked less eagerly.
"BECAUSE I SAY SO!!!" Blurted out to the Devil that didn't like to be questioned, especially when things didn't go according to his plan: "In the monstrous book it was written that you can find it ONLY if you really want to find it and if you know it's there! AND I KNOW it's there! I really want to find it, I NEED IT, and I say IT'S HERE !!" he declared angrily, flying closer to the mountain.
Henchman, who knew perfectly well that when there was a fire-breathing mountain involved, nothing good could be expected, tried again:
“Maybe we could try the stream again!” he smiled uncertainly. "Among the bouquets of flowers or among the reeds!" As he said this, he turned his bright eyes towards the lovely little green corner where the stream gushed serenely, and which at this moment was being illuminated by a suggestive beam of sunlight, that made everything very inviting.
He could almost hear the birds chirping happily and a mysterious angelic chorus style soundtrack that...
"Did you find it there?" he purred, glancing over his shoulder.
There was a moment of aware silence and cruel return to reality.
Henchman contemplated his little river treasure: "Eeeehm... No, actually.."
"Precisely..!" the Devil gritted in an almost affable tone.
And Henchman became smaller and smaller, while his master's shadow slowly covered the lands.
"Oh... Boss.. I don't know if that's a good idea.."
"Cuphead!! I don't know if that's a good idea!!" Mugman froze. It was a figure of speech, of course: he knew full well that this was a horrible idea!
Cuphead stood in front of the gloomiest of caves, staring with a mad grin at the sinister strands hanging from the grimy ceiling.
Angry yellow eyes pulsated rhythmically from the musty, damp-smelling darkness. A thread of wind emerged from the deep Lovecraftian chasm that opened like a gorge a few meters away from them, on the dark ground.
"Trust me, Mugman!! This is the only way!!" he said, strutting and slamming his snout after the first step into his brother's open palms.
"What do you mean, the only way?? There are thousands of nicer places out here!! Why right here..??"
"Look, I've thought about it!! Come on, I'll explain everything to you on the way!!" and grabbing the handle on the back of his brother's head, he dragged him inexorably into the darkness.
Mugman broke out in a cold sweat, letting himself be dragged along the ground and darting his eyes into every dark corner. There wasn't a crevice that didn't seem like it wanted to jump at his throat!
"I'm still sure that the solution was the book with the little girl who entered the mirror!" Cuphead explained, stepping around a suspiciously soft rock. "I think Elder Kettle found a mirror too! Except he didn't have time to enter it!"
"But Cuphead, that makes no sense! You can't enter mirrors!" Mugman said, getting up and walking close to his brother, without batting his eyelashes for fear of nasty surprises.
The air was growing darker and darker. "And what does it have to do with this cave?? If we're looking for a mirror we shouldn't be here!!"
"No, we're not looking for a mirror! The cave is fine!"
"Well, do you want to explain yourself??" This time Mugman grabbed his arm with unsuspected strength, and Cuphead was forced to turn around. "It doesn't seem safe here! And we can hardly see each other!! What are you going to do??"
"Say, Mugsey! Don't you think the book about the little girl in the mirror is similar to the one about the little girl who ended up in the hole of wonders??"
"In Wonderland!! GASP!! Wait, it was the same little girl!!"
"Yeah, that weird story you read to Chalice and me last sleepover!" Cuphead urged.
The brother started at the memory: "Quadratus said that the laws of the real or astral world must be followed without flaw.. It means literally!! What is more literal than a book?" Mugman brightened.
"Elder Kettle read the story of the little girl and the mirror, while we read the story of the little girl and the..."
"...RABBIT HOLE!!" they exclaimed in chorus.
"You're a genius, Cuphead!!" smiled Mugman, suddenly oblivious to the obvious impending trouble just inches away. "Wait a minute, though! This isn't a rabbit's hole! It's more like a bear's hole or something!" Mugman's voice took on an uneasy edge as he looked around. He instinctively gritted his teeth.
"No, it's not!! But that was a story for girls!" he retorted, accompanying the sentence with a casual gesture of the hand and the air of someone who knows a lot: "Girls go down rabbit holes. Boys go down monster holes!!" And after this last proud statement, he walked with clenched fists into the darkness of the cave.
"...I actually preferred the rabbit hole!" He twiddled his fingers visibly restless, following his brother and paying little attention to the ground.
"Come on, Mugsey!" Said Cuphead with his nose turned up: "After all, what's life without a little riiIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSKK!!!!"
"AAAAAAAARRRRGHH!!"
And the screams of the boys were lost in the chasm which, for some probably supernatural reason, they had completely forgotten was there.
To be honest, they had already been to a "wonderland" the previous year, and it had not been a pleasant trip!
At least, yes, for the first twenty minutes. Because being a sugar-loving kid in a world with biscuit floors and buildings of cake, icing and cotton candy was like being a blessed soul in heaven!
Except heaven doesn't usually have a Baroness Von Bon bon. And if you eat the wrong piece of heaven, you don't become food yourself. And you don't almost get eaten by the owner of paradise, nor by your ravenous grandfather, an ex-sugar-loving boy.
Yes, Sugarland was a wonderland from which they were more than happy to have escaped alive... And yet, Cuphead thought, he would gladly have exchanged it for the stinky slime he had sunk face first into.
"YUCK!!!" they both spat, sitting up. "That sucks!!"
"What is it, a sewer, by any chance..?" said Mugman, shaking off the filth.
Cuphead approached a glowing, earthy wall.
"I don't think so! Look at this!" he said, pointing to the mushrooms dotted with fluorescent spots that were climbing the wall.
In the true meaning of the word. They were climbing skillfully!
Behind them (the two brothers immediately ran to look) some roots from the ceiling were playing a strange, very catchy rhythm, banging and rubbing each other or on the various surrounding rocks, while below a pattern of colored insects seemed to be celebrating like any other Inkwellian on Easter Sunday, dancing and eating from a feast of leaves and berries.
And against the backdrop of this hallucinating scenario, on a strange pedestal, under a tactical beam of light coming from much higher up, colorful and dazzling like never before...
"THE EASTER EGG!!" they shouted regardless of the echo of their voices, which made the cheering animals flee, leaving the field clear.
The brothers barely stood.
They glanced at each other. The earth had shaken with a roar like thunder.
"...Was it us..?" Mugman asked, fizzing on the spot.
"Eeeeeeeeeeeee.. I don't think so..! Maybe it was just a small earthquake"
"And you call that small??"
Cuphead shrugged: “Come on, Mugsey, don't be a fraidy cat!!” He playfully provoked Him, achieving exactly the desired effect. "There's an Egg of Eggs waiting for us!!"
Mugman didn't need to be told again: "Right!!" He replied sportingly: "So: whoever gets to it first!!"
It was necessary to cut it short, because when you find yourself faced with an unobtainable magical object, speculating about an imminent danger to your life seemed rather superfluous.
They began to climb furiously, while a red beetle in the corner played an increasingly urgent, anxious tune on a violin leaf.
Cuphead glared at him as he passed him. "Ugh, here too?? You guys are annoying!!"
Mugman took the opportunity to leap over his brother. "HA!! This time I'm first..!"
"FIRST!!"
Cuphead and Mugman's hands touched the wonder egg at the same time.
"HEY!! I got there first!!" Mugman protested.
"Nonsense!! I caught you at the finish line!!" said Cuphead smugly.
"Liar!!"
"Okay...we touched it together, okay??" He allowed his brother to cut it short as soon as possible: "Now we should just take it off the pedestal and.. WAAAAA!!"
Both of them let go of the precious loot, disgusted to say the least, each tumbling to a different part of the cave.
Then, with much (much) more caution than before, they slowly approached again, satelliteing around the sinister sight, also motivated by a further shaking of the earth which this time caused a bit of soil to slip from the walls.
"Eeeeeeeew!" It was Cuphead's comment on the giant rabbit skeleton with the not-so-cleaned bones holding the egg. "It wasn't a pedestal!!"
"No!! It's disgusting!!" said Mugman, with a bright green tint on his smooth face.
The fiddler beetle emerged from an eye socket playing the Danse Macabre.
"I vomit!!" Mugman quickly spun around to throw the cup behind a stone.
"Someone massacred the Easter Bunny!!" The boy in the red shorts began with a terrified expression, dramatically pointing the finger at the anything but fairy-tale spectacle.
"But.. Cuphead!" Mugman said in a slightly hoarse voice, lifting himself from the rock: "you can't kill the Easter Bunny!! It would be like killing... Santa Claus! It's impossible!!" He tried to compose himself.
“It seems very possible to me!!” Cuphead pointed with more conviction, sweating profusely.
"But no, it wouldn't make sense!" reasoned Mugman, who despite everything there still remained the mental balance between the two. "And they would have left the Egg here? Who would leave such a beautiful egg in a place like that..?"
As simple as it was, the motivation seemed to calm Cuphead's anxieties a little, and he stopped sweating. Pondering the logic of his brother's words, he slowly approached with renewed courage, stretching a hesitant hand across the surface of the Egg.
"...Maybe he took a shot from a hunter and died down here in atrocious pain..!" said Cuphead, once again showing off the subtle criminal streak that characterized his all-too-delineated mental reconstructions.
And the earth shook again, more violently this time, as the daylight began to fade.
The beetle opened its eyes wide and played furiously at the leaf.
"Cuphead, we need to get out of here, and now!! I feel like something's wrong!!" he said, pointing to the distant hole in the rock ceiling. "It's getting dark too!! We can't stay down here in the dark!"
And he was about to run away, except this time he was the one who crashed into his brother's open palm.
"Wait a minute!! We came all this way and we won't leave without our loot! We'll never know if we'll get the chance again!" said Cuphead resolute and excited.
"Think about it Mugsey! This isn't the first giant egg we've taken from some crazy place!"
This was an unassailable objection.
Inkwell was a strange archipelago, inhabited by strange characters who lived in a rather imaginative way. Not to mention the countless dangers that lurked in every corner: nothing in Inkwell was 100% safe. There were demons underground, sea monsters in the ocean, ghosts in the houses and cannibalistic witches in the woods, dragons in the mountains (and giants, it was said) and very shady characters who even entered and left your local emporium.
Inkwell was, without a doubt, an exciting place to spend your childhood, but it was crazy to go looking for trouble right there, in the four islands!
Mugman was aware of being a wacko. But more importantly, he knew perfectly well that his brother Cuphead was the king of wackos.
Very naturally, therefore, he accepted the loony situation with a: "You're right, Cuphead! Come on! Let's get him up together and look for an exit!!"
"Well said!!" Cuphead took up position with his brother, their four gloved hands on opposite sides of the egg.
At the top of which, the beetle emerged, playing the first notes of a very famous piece by Strauss (for he was a much more educated beetle than Inkwell's street musicians) which a few decades later would be chosen as the opening of a film with monkeys who were bludgeoning themselves under a rock.
“On my three!!” Cuphead instructed.
"One..." they intoned together.
The earth shook even more violently.
"Two..."
It had to be said that, wackos or not, the two cup brothers were both quite intelligent; distinctly more than the average Inkwellian, for sure.
Both were insightful in their own ways, and where one couldn't reach, the other did.
Unfortunately they weren't the only ones sharp and alert. And unfortunately that privilege had fallen to characters much more malignant and dangerous than them, ruthless and unscrupulous people, resolutely violent when necessary.
Fortunately, they were usually also people with dice in their heads (or as heads), and fortunately one individual in particular with very serious problems reading those complicated internal hieroglyphics called feelings. Whether his or someone else's.
He was therefore often too absorbed in certain aspects of his own untranslatable inner life to constitute a real obstacle, if it wasn't his own boss who was sabotaging him.
At the second earthquake, the sound of rolling dice coming from his cubic head gave him the idea.
"Holy Louis, why didn't I think of this before?!" he laughed, spreading his arms proudly to the audience of forest animals who flocked to his random scats. "If I have to play waif with the cosmos, why not play dice? I did it so well the last time, 116 years ago!"
And the absurd logic of the gimmick wasn't as much devilry as it seemed, because thinking about devilry, Mr. Dice had remembered that distant day, when he had sent the Devil a cabrette.
"Ah, how he smiled at me that day!" he reminisced aloud nostalgically, as he stuck his right hand in his pocket. "It's been a long time since I've seen a smile like that! And these little ones will need a good dusting off! After all, we have a casino to open, sooner or later!"
The two translucent dice: that bright red that played strange symphonies on strings very different from the metal of his orchestral bows. They were more flaming than ever.
"Time for a good bet, dear fate!" he almost sang. "If within six rolls the number seven comes up, you will show me that beautiful colored egg that the boss wants so much! Three rolls for me and three for you, and if nothing comes up I will have lost, and I will go down the steps again!"
A vague rumble from the earth was the only response he got; not that he needed anything else. He searched among the cards in his deck for the best at the saxophone, and commanded her with a gesture: it was a perfect musical background that went wonderfully with the roar that came from the tree-covered mountain. Because if you really have to bet with fate, you might as well do it with style.
While the sky seemed to be darkened by a shadow (maybe it was the clouds... in that season the weather was crazier than the entire Inkwell archipelago!), with a scat and a pirouette, he made the first cast on the grassy ground.
It was an eight. "Damn it! Well, it would have been too good to win first time..." And then, with a sigh. "The games are yours, mystery!"
And the earth shook violently again, causing the observing animals to flee and the dice to jump and roll an eleven.
“Two shots gone, four more chances!” Dice said, grabbing the jewels with restrained excitement. "Come on, little guys! For the boss!"
As if in response, the scarlet instruments gave him a six. But just as a less gentlemanly curse than usual was about to pass his lips, the earth shook again. It was as if it had answered, because one of his dice adjusted itself, adjusting the two into a three, next to the four.
Thus obtaining a seven. The devil's right-hand man observed the unexpected but more than welcome stroke of luck and smiled enthusiastically. He started to cheer and shout "YASS!!" (more for the pure and genuine pleasure of having won the game than for what winning would have entailed), when a crack opened in the ground, almost making him stagger on all fours.
Raising his head he saw the crack make its way towards a large tree nearby, splitting it in two like lightning from underground, while the card designated to the saxophone (a seven of clubs) played a discordant note as it ran to take shelter near its master. King Dice quickly retrieved the dice with a sinuous and decidedly inhuman gesture of his arm, his eyes glued to the target.
And in the pitch-black darkness of the split trunk, the rainbow egg shone brightly, two skeletal arms holding it up.
"Hey, ginchy!" he made a suggestive smile, widening his smile, winking at the egg and standing up with a turn of his legs (so sensual that it would have resurrected Mr. Easter!)
Adjusting his lavender jacket, he danced his way towards the coveted prize, with playful accompaniment personalized by Seven. "Maybe today I'll see that smile again after all!" He said almost speaking to himself, stretching his arms towards the treasure.
But the moment he dug his gloved hands into the darkness to grasp the smooth surface of the shell, the world around him blended into a maelstrom of luminous colors. King Dice squeaked in surprise as the ground beneath him vanished, and holding on to the large egg became a matter of survival.
Two more pairs of hands, smaller than his, stood on either side of the Egg, and two more voices were screaming hysterically at the unexpected event.
And, at the same time, something enormous, hairy and black like a large clawed pincer, grabbed the only handhold to which the three shocked finders of the egg were firmly clinging, lifting them upwards in a polychrome cacophony.
TO BE CONTINUE....
