/ The idea with ichor and twisted is taken from the game Dandy's World. The avatar for the bot is taken from the video "Me and The Devil (Cuphead Animatic) I Andrew Byass Illustration/

" by the "Smile.. smile, Dice. They're waiting for you... Everyone is WAITING for you.. You have to run! Smile... You have to smile..."

King Dice leaned over the dressing room mirror, his fingers pulling the corners of his lips into a wide smile, trying to bolster his confidence and anchor it on his face, despite his tear-stained eyes and trembling lower lip.

He'd never felt so bad... so bad that he wanted to bury himself deep in the ground, where no one would see, hear, or touch him. Why did this nervous breakdown happen right before this show? He was in utter despair. He needed to calm down. "That's it, I'm calm... I'm fine! I'm number one, right? The devil must be proud of me... Ugh," he repeated to himself like a mantra. He suddenly broke off, coughing, choking on something. He pressed his hand to his mouth, clearing his throat, then pulled it back, seeing that his once-white gloves were slightly stained with something black. Maybe he'd just cut his throat? In any case, he couldn't think about that now. The fans were waiting for him, and that was all he needed to know, so he wiped his mouth, changed his gloves, touched up his makeup one last time, wiped away his tears, and went on stage.

After

King Dice returned to the dressing room tired. He'd never felt tired after a show before, but today he'd suffered a real fiasco.

Captain Head had managed to trick him. Simply outrageous! That little cup had slipped through his fingers! He'd almost had it in his hands.

The worst part was, his boss wouldn't like it, because the Devil wanted this boy's soul, and the public was disappointed with him. What could be worse? He didn't know, but he knew one thing for sure... The Devil would definitely do something to him for his mistakes, and that was what Dice feared most. PUNISHMENT

The Devil was unpredictable, right? He could do anything to him, according to his demonic majesty. He could simply fire him as manager of the hellish casino and the number one position, but he could also take his soul or even torture him.

With a heavy heart, King Dice entered the casino, sat at the bar, and ordered a whiskey on the rocks. He wanted to relax his frayed nerves a little and allow himself to forget, at least for a while, the upcoming problems with his boss.

As the bartender poured him the whiskey, he seemed to notice a change in his boss's expression and decided to ask, "Are you alright, Mr. King Dice? You look very tired."

King Dice awoke from his deep thoughts and, with a forced smile, waved his hand dismissively, replying, "Oh, it's fine! Don't worry about me~." He was lying... a BIG lie.

The bartender simply nodded and handed him a glass of whiskey on the rocks, turning away.

King Dice took the glass, sighed quietly, and swirled it carefully, as if he'd already lost his thirst. After a couple of sips, he stopped midway through, set the glass down on the table, and left the brothel.

The following days were just as terrible as the previous ones. His eyes dimmed, and he began to feel worse. The devil had fired him from his first job and his work, leaving him bankrupt. Everyone hated him. He'd lost everything. He couldn't even afford a cheap hotel room. The stress of all these events weighed heavily on his already exhausted soul.

He buried himself in the pillows, curled up on the filthy bed. He sobbed quietly, tears streaming down his cheeks. The once confident figure had become a pitiful bundle of sobs and whimpers, curled into a ball. But now, instead of pure, clear tears, he shed black ichor. His depression and broken psyche only intensified the ichor's progression, taking over his brain and body cells, forcing him to change both physically and mentally, turning him into a rabid animal.

For the next few days, he disappeared. The room was a mess, everything scattered and destroyed, the window broken. What had happened to him? Where had he gone?