Mammon’s been yelling and cursing, ever since the two of you stepped inside the haunted house.

After several spooks and scares from No. 2, it consummated in a curse that makes it impossible for him to let go of your hand.

“Dammit, that pipsqueak!” Mammon grumbles under his breath, “When we get outta here, I’m gonna bake the li’l guy and feed ‘im to Beel.”

He uses his free arm to hug the zombie iguana plushie to his chest — the same one he’d won for you at a crane-game earlier.