My first Cuphead Devildice story so go easy on me with the reviews. This is just based on my idea and headcanons on Dice's start of darkness and how he and the Devil met and became the demonic duo we see in the game. If nobody is interested in Devildice, then it's understandable, you don't have to read. I know some fans either prefer the Devil and King Dice to either be an unholy matrimony or just villainous friends. Anyhoo, here's the first chapter so far. Also I have my own Cuphead OCs that belong to me. Happy reading!

Once upon a time, in a magical place called Inkwell Isle, there lived many happy-go-lucky toons. They all lived in peace and harmony, raising their families, and performing good deeds. Everyone was kind and good… all except for one shady character. He was known only by the name "Dice." He was a notorious gambler, able to beat even the sharpest card-players in the city. He was an unpredictable player, you never know when he's going to roll a loaded dice or not. He was a cheater and a swindler but he was too cunning and intelligent to ever be caught in the act. And ever the opportunist, Dice would scam anybody for a quick buck. He only looked out for number one…

Inside Fleisher's Pub, a local-place where shifty-looking characters often liked to gather to drink, gamble, enjoy a cigar or two, or brag about the latest scheme. Sitting at the center of the round table, Dice had managed to convince a gang of weasels into playing poker with him. It's been a while since he managed to find himself some pigeons. It was getting harder and harder to find new targets he could trick. All the Inkwell residents didn't like him and went out of their way to avoid him as much as possible. After twenty minutes had gone by, the moment of truth has finally arrived…

"Ah-ha! Three of a kind pair!" One weasel tossed down his cards onto the table.

"That's nothing. Check out my Four of a kind pair!" Another weasel revealed his hand with a nasty grin. The other three weasels groaned and tossed down their cards into defeat. Then he turned to look at their die-headed companion. "How about you, bud?"

Wearing the perfect poker-faced expression throughout the whole game, the teenage Dice laid his cards on the table with a flourish. "Well whaddya know, a Royal Flush!" he said smugly. The weasels stared down at his cards, utterly flabbergasted by this as Dice reached over to collect his cash as his winnings. "No shame in losing to the gamest in the land. I give you points for effort, my friends." Dice smirked triumphantly.

Unfortunately Dice looked up to find that all five weasels had pulled out their pistols and they were all aimed right at him. "We ain't your friends," the weasel leader growled angrily. "You cheated, didn't ya? Did ya really think we would let ya get away with conning us?"

With surprising calmness, Dice slowly held up his hands in defense as the gang of weasels moved toward him with their weapons still pointing at him. "Come on fellas. I'm just a simple moocher who's tryin' to live life to the fullest. And besides, if I cheated…where's the proof?" he challenged. The weasels continued to advance on him menacingly with their weapons. "Ah well…I guess it can't be helped," Dice sighed. "I have only one thing to say in my defense…"

Dice grinned mischievously and his eyes gleamed like jades. "52 pick-ups!" he laughed while flinging millions of cards at the unsuspecting weasels.

The cards scattered everywhere, taking the weasels' off-guard and causing them to lower their pistols to shield themselves from all the flying cards suddenly raining down upon them. This enabled Dice to snatch up his winnings and immediately make a mad-dash for the exit while the onlookers in the pub looked on in confusion. Talk about easy-money, Dice thought smugly to himself. Grade-A suckers are hard to come by these days. Maybe he could finally buy himself a decent meal for a change. It wasn't long before the weasel leader took notice of Dice making a break for it that he let out an angry shout to get his gang's attention.

"No you idiots! Don't pick the cards up! Let's get that lying cheat! I won't rest until I've pumped him full of lead!" There the weasels all gave chase after the die-headed man with their pistols still out.

Bolting out through the double-doors and into the bright sunny day, Dice looked around and did some quick thinking. He could hear the weasels coming after him; he needed to shake them off somehow. With another smirk, Dice got another idea and ran down the street and away from Fleischer's Pub. Just as the gang of weasels came bursting out of the pub, they turned their heads in time to catch a glimpse of Dice disappearing into an alleyway nearby. The weasel leader gestured for his fellow cronies to follow him.

"There he goes! After him! Don't let him get away!"

The weasels ran down the same street and reached the alleyway where the die-headed man escaped. As they turned the corner, they cried out when they suddenly started tripping over what appeared to be pebbles scattered all over the ground. The weasels stumbled and fell clumsily over each other which completely stopped them in their tracks. Then the leader weasel climbed back to his feet, and then he reached down to pick up the pebble to examine it. And that's when he realized it wasn't a pebble at all. Somebody had littered the ground with dice!

From a rooftop, Dice couldn't stop laughing nastily while watching the frustrated weasels below him in the alleyway. "Suckers…," Dice said gleefully. In the palm of his hand, he held his favorite pink-colored dice before pocketing them into his baggy grey pants. "And now to go buy me something nice..."

...

Those rascally weasels didn't cough up enough money to get a room at the Iwerks' Hotel, but at least Dice was able to buy himself a warm bowl of soup to warm himself and get something into his stomach. Afterwards it was back to the streets and into the cold. This was his life… Constantly fighting for scraps with the other fink-rats, sleeping in gutters and alleyways, and tricking unsuspecting toons into giving up their belongings and money. Walking along the pavement with his hands in his pockets, Dice was avidly aware that other Inkwell residents crossed the street to avoid him. He saw their looks of mistrust, their disapproving frowns, and their wariness. It didn't help that Dice looked every inch the shady-type.

Dice was too used to this cold treatment from his fellow toons. But it only added to his bitterness. Dressed in an overgrown grey sweater, a tattered white scarf, baggy dark-grey pants and old-worn shoes, Dice has lived in poverty all his life. It was a brutal world out there and Dice did whatever he had to in order to survive. If it meant having to be ruthless and cunning, so be it. Everyone knows not to mess with Dice. At least he found the time to work on his card manipulation and practice tossing his loaded dice. Dice had been working on his sleight of hand skills for years and had gotten real good at winning any games of chance. In fact, when it came to gambling, Dice discovered early on that he had quite the talent for it.

Dice had been hanging around his favorite alleyway and was sitting on a crate while tossing up his dice and catching it with one hand when he heard a sudden commotion in the distance. Right away Dice ducked behind a dumpster and carefully kept himself hidden out of view. He didn't need any trouble… Peering out from his hiding place, Dice spotted two burly-looking characters on the run. He immediately recognized them as Ruff and Tuff, two unsavory junkyard dogs who were thick as thieves. By the looks of it, it seemed that the two of them had robbed a bank again because Ruff held a money-bag in his grubby arms. Judging by the alarm bells, it seemed the cops were after them.

While the two junkyard dogs ran down the alleyway, they didn't notice Dice hiding behind the dumpster. "Dem coppers never give up! This here loot is slowin' me down!" Tuff was complaining to his brother.

"Yer right. We better stash the loot fer now. Quick! Hide it in dis' here dumpster!" Ruff instructed. Tuff did as he was told and tossed the bag of money into the dumpster. "There we are. We'll come back fer it later. Let's get out of ere'! We'll hide out at the local junkyard til' the heat dies down."

Now Dice watched as the two dog brutes hurried down the alleyway and disappeared out of sight around the corner. He already had an evil idea. Dice stepped out from behind the dumpster, straighten his ragged sweater, and prepared for his latest scheme. Soon enough, the cops arrived in the alleyway in their pursuit of Ruff and Tuff. They stopped running when Dice stepped into their path and after making sure he got their attention, he pointed down the alleyway and spoke in his most convincing suave voice.

"They went thatta way, officers!" Dice informed them. And added with a knowing wink. "I believe you'll find them hiding out at the local junkyard. Best of luck catching those dastardly thieves!" As he hoped, the officers thanked him for the tip and were already running down the alleyway after Ruff and Tuff. Now feeling pleased with himself, Dice proceeded to help himself to the stolen bag of cash that got left behind. "It's all too easy…," he boasted.

…

What a lucky break. With the stolen bag of money, Dice couldn't make up his mind on what to spend it on. A nice winter-jacket, a pair of shoes, or buy himself all the wine and first-class meals he could eat? It was rare that he got to enjoy such luxuries. Finally in the end, Dice decided to head for the Woodland Nightclub. It was a popular place for music, dancing and drinks. Despite his rather unkempt appearance, Dice was able to bully his way in while sneering arrogantly at anyone who'd looked at him reproachfully. After getting himself a table, he managed to order himself a scotch on the rocks. Dice was looking forward to the entertainments for tonight. He especially loved Jazz…

While waiting for his drink to arrive, Dice couldn't help noticing how the other colorful toons continued to throw dirty looks at him. Their hostility only added to his resentment… Bad guy or not, Dice had every right to be here. And unfortunately things only got worse. Just when the local band arrived, Dice saw to his dismay that it was none other than Magnetic Mike who was the performer. Everybody liked Magnetic Mike, a dashing fellow with a mike for a head and dressed in the finest black-suit and grey bowtie. As the owner of the Woodland Nightclub, everyone traveled from miles to watch his shows. But as far as Dice was concerned, the man was a self-important dunderhead. For once Dice actually hoped he could avoid getting Magnetic Mike's attention but unfortunately no such luck. The microphone-headed man had no trouble spotting him in the crowd and he was displeased to say the least.

"What is that sleazebag doing in the club?" Mike gestured over at Dice while frowning distastefully. "How does that guy manage to bribe his way in here?"

"Shall I call security again, sir?"

But instead Mike straightened his bowtie firmly. "No. I'll take care of this myself." With that, he began to march his way over to the die-headed man. Dice kept a polite smile plastered on his face but became very wary as Magnetic Mike approached him. "Well well, if it isn't the neighborhood miscreant," he cheerfully greeted. "I thought you were banned from the club."

"I don't know, Mike. I can be pretty persuasive," Dice said coolly while sitting cross-legged. "But enough bout' that, I'm simply here to enjoy myself. I ain't pullin' any cons tonight." And then Dice added. "Sayyy Mike, maybe this time you and your swingin' cats will let me do all the singin' tonight. I've been gettin' real good at scat-singin'."

However the other band-mates immediately broke into laughter at this, causing Dice to become offended at their raucous behavior. Mike was shaking his head while smiling amusedly. "You're an interesting character, Dice. I'll give ya that. Unfortunately people have traveled from miles away to see me perform. Me… Magnetic Mike. And besides…,"

Mike scrutinized Dice's shabby clothes, making Dice feel self-conscious for the first time. "You've got all the fashion-sense of a tramp. Face it, Dice. You're way out of yer league. You don't belong here. You don't belong anywhere. You're nothing but the scum of Inkwell Isles. Your type will never be welcomed here. Now get back to the smelly alleyways and dumpsters… The place where you really belong."

Dice was already gritting his teeth in fury at these condescending words. Then the waitress arrived at that very moment. "Your drink, sir…" Without a second thought, Dice took the glass of liquor and splashed it at Mike's fine suit. "Oops… So sorry," Dice said mockingly as Mike looked at his wet stained suit in shock. "Move aside amateur," Dice shoved Magnetic Mike aside. "I'll show ya how a real performer gets his kicks!"

Walking up to the center of the stage, Dice was aware that everyone in the audience was booing him right away. "Come now folks, let's not be so hasty," Dice tried putting on a charming smile for the crowd. "What are ya, a bunch of ghosts?" he joked toward all their constant booing. "Allow me to perform for ya and I can prove that this loaded dice can still sing. Here's a popular song that ya may be familiar with."

Dice cleared his throat, opened his mouth… and before he could start wowing anyone with his singing, security guards were already grabbing him and hauling him off the stage. As far as anyone was concerned, he was disrupting the show. And no one was sorry to see Dice go. The next thing he knew, the security guards was tossing his body into the pile of trash-bags at the back of the building, followed by throwing his die-head afterwards. His head bounced off the brick-wall and landed on the ground with the number six facing-up.

"Ha! I told ya I could get it to land on six! You owe me money!" The security guards laughed as Dice moved his headless body over to pick up his head and firmly place it between his shoulders. Now he threw an angry glare over at the security guards that turned and retreated back into the building. But then Magnetic Mike came forward and looked down his nose at Dice with pity in his eyes.

"It's a shame you choose to live such an unscrupulous life, Dice. Maybe things would have turned out better for you if you had made the right choices," Mike said, shaking his head with a slight frown.

"Aw shaddup!" Dice said bitterly climbing to his feet. "Spare me the lecture. I know who I am," he said, gesturing to himself with his thumb. "I've been up to no good my whole life and there's no stoppin' me now. I'm as bad as they come. I never play nice. Even if it means I get sent to hell for it…"

Magnetic Mike merely shook his head and turned to go back into the Woodland Café, but not before having this strange thing to say to Dice. "If you want to go to hell so badly, why not just go to the Devil's Casino and hand over your soul for free?"

And now Dice stood there alone in the gutter and he was actually surprised by this odd statement. The Devil's Casino? He's never heard of the place before. Dice has traveled all around the Inkwell Isles and he has never come upon a place called that. Was there really such a place? Dice leaned against the brick-wall and started to do some thinking. If there really was a casino out there, then where was it? How is it he's never heard of it before? Dice decided he needed more information. Call it curiosity, but Dice really wanted to know what kind of a place was Devil's Casino. And there was only one person he knew that could give him information he needed.

I think we're off to a good start so far. Be sure to review to let me know what you think!