Author's Note: The song referenced in this chapter, Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea is a real song sung by Studio MDHR's inspiration for King Dice, Cab Calloway. I'd definitely suggest listening to it! It's a great song and very applicable to King Dice at this point in the story. ;)

Thank you guys again and again for all your love and support! My life is so much brighter with you all in it.

Inside the Devil's Casino.

Is it as bad as they say?

With the Devil's return to the Inkwell Isles, our peaceful home has once again been tarnished. Or has it been?

Some have begun to question the true danger of the casino. While the Devil's tyrannical presence is nothing to scoff at, his return has done some good for the Isles as well.

Tourism is at an all-time high, putting money in the pockets of those who need it most -ordinary citizens. Brave souls from Inkwell have returned from the depths of the casino, unscathed. Instead of running out, terrified, they come out laughing, having gotten a moment to relax and enjoy themselves. And, most notably, the Devil does not seem to be expanding his reach into our cities and towns, remaining within his mountain halls.

While the dangers are quite obvious, no one expected the benefits it has given the Inkwell Isles. It leaves us curious folks with the question: How bad is the Devil's Casino?

Is it everything the stories have made it out to be, or is it something else entirely?

In tonight's story, our field expert ventured inside the casino, writing his account of -as he calls it- The Belly of the Beast:

"Upon entering, I found myself surrounded in colors of bright red, pure white, and gleaming gold as if I'd entered a mythical palace from a bygone era.

Games and food aplenty are scattered throughout the vast casino floor while patrons are waited on hand and foot by casino staff. The Devil's prized casino is truly the lap of luxury at its finest, but not without serious concerns.

During my night there, I noted the young Cup Brothers -whom the Devil alleged to be living in the casino- were nowhere to be found. Upon asking the staff about the two, I received no answers, save for the sleazy yet stupefying King Dice.

The ruler-like manager of the casino, Dice, told me that the brothers are indeed still here, alive and well, but made no further comment.

In fact, the Devil was nowhere to be seen either. It seems that King Dice is now running the casino singlehandedly. Not an easy feat, but he does it with such grace and poise, that it is stunning to watch.

Perhaps this explains the lack of problems Inkwell has had with the casino. With the Devil out of the picture, all is calm. However, leaving such an enormous operation on the shoulders of a single mortal man cannot bode well for the casino's future. How long till the crushing weight of an immortal casino breaks the Devil's right-hand man?"

- From the Honeycomb Herald, circa. 1930.

- Chapter Ten: Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea -

King Dice was exhausted. Not that it was a feeling new for him, he'd been continually exhausted for the past fifteen years of running the Devil's Casino, but this was different. And much worse.

He was sprawled out in his bed, laying there alone. It had been quite some time since anyone had kept him company overnight. Loneliness prickled at his heart, but he pushed it away. He didn't have time to wallow in self-pity.

Groaning in pain, King Dice stirred, beginning to feel the effects of his nasty hangover from the night before. Taking a long deep breath, Dice forced himself to roll out of bed.

Another day, another disappointment.

Downing a glass of hangover cure left by his bedside, King Dice shuffled over to the closet, pulling on his signature purple three-piece suit. Despite the empty void growing in his heart, he still wore the bright and beautiful colors of a king. Before he left, King Dice peered into his bathroom, glancing at himself in the mirror. He looked dreadful, but he was already running late. Dice would have to fix his face on the go.

"All the bars are stocked?" He asked a pudgy imp while applying concealer, using a compact mirror to guide him.

"Yes, Mister King Dice, sir."

"An' the restaurant? We have all necessary ingredients in stock?"

"Yes, Mister King Dice, sir."

"What about the floors? Have they been swept an' mopped durin' our lull hours?"

"Yes, Mister King Dice, sir." The imp looked up from his clipboard. King Dice always had trouble remembering this one's name. Was it Henchman? Yes! Henchman was what the Devil called him.

"Everythin's perfect, King. Jus' like you told me to do." He said, giving Dice a genuine, albeit worried, look. "D'uhh, you should get some rest, sir. You're overworkin' yourself real hard. Those are some nasty dark circles ya got there."

"Funny, I don't remember askin' you." King Dice hissed. Henchman looked at the floor sheepishly.

Rolling his eyes, King Dice turned away, fixing his bowtie. "No, I can't rest, Henchman. With the Devil not even botherin' to grace us 'lowly' folks with a hello, it's up to me to run this joint by my lonesome. Now git, go make yourself useful an' annoy someone else, will ya?"

"Yes, Mister King Dice, sir."

King Dice had been on the clock for about two hours and had already resorted to drinking. He downed a shot of demon-proof whiskey, watching over the bustling casino from the Devil's private balcony. It was where the Devil kept his best booze, and it wasn't like he'd ever know Dice was up here uninvited. He was far too busy with his precious cups to care.

The very thought of the Cup Brothers soured King Dice's mood. Those two little twerps singlehandedly ruined his life.

Everything had been perfect. King Dice had everything he ever wanted: the job of a lifetime, a relationship with the one he loved, respect from all who met him. But then, it all came tumbling down in one terrible day.

He glanced over at the rows of craps tables down below. Dice could almost see the brothers rolling that fateful pair of dice. He could've simply dealt with them himself right then and there before the Devil had even seen them.

What an idiot he'd been. He should've stopped them the moment they got the first soul contract. No one would've missed those two brats back then. If only he'd been smart enough to realize it. But there was nothing he could do now. He'd lost everything.

Sure he still managed the casino, but no one treated him the same. He was a laughingstock. A disappointment. Someone you only respected to their face and laughed at behind their back. He assumed the one reason he hadn't been kicked to the curb was thanks to his extensive knowledge of running the casino. Without him, things would fall apart overnight. But that was apparently not enough for the Devil. He was more interested in two blubbering children.

Nowadays, King Dice ran the casino by himself, while still performing, doing his radio show, and getting in an occasional wink of sleep. No sign of the Devil. No check-ins. No thank yous for keeping the shitshow afloat. Nothing. It was like King Dice had ceased to exist in the Devil's eyes.

Dice poured himself another shot and downed it.

While everyone else was back and better than ever, he was left behind. Washed up. A forgotten artifact of the Devil's past. Vastly overshadowed by those damned boys. King Dice wished he could wring their little necks with every fiber of his being, but it was not meant to be. Even watching Cuphead writhing in utter agony after Ginette's injections felt unsatisfying. That boy might be suffering now, but once the Devil's plan was complete, he'd be living the high life for all eternity.

King Dice took his third shot.

His eyes were prickling with tears. His heart ached. But this was the only place he could express it. Anywhere else and he'd be seen. Made into an absolute fool. Was that all he was? A fool?

Vigorously wiping his eyes, King Dice stood up. That was enough drinking for now. Any more and he'd break down. Others would see. They'd talk. He couldn't have that. He refused to let himself be even more of a disappointment.

"You're on in 10." Henchman whispered.

King Dice was getting ready for one of his many performances throughout the day while the playing cards adjusted his suit. He had to look perfect. Dice refused to settle for anything less.

"Is the boss back in?" King Dice replied, trying to keep himself from slurring his words. He'd had a few more drinks after his time up on the Devil's balcony and it was becoming hard to walk in a straight line.

"Still haven't seen him." Henchman sighed sadly. "Gosh, I sure do miss the guy. It's like he's forgotten all about us."

King Dice's eye twitched at Henchman's comment. He couldn't let the imp know he agreed. He had to stay tough. Unbreakable.

"Git back to work." King Dice said, shoving Henchman aside. "Mopin' around ain't gonna bring him back."

With that, King Dice plastered an exaggerated grin on his face, striding out onto the stage. His big band roared, playing an energizing crescendo to welcome the main event: Inkwell's beloved King Dice. As he entered, it was as if time stopped. The casino paused everything. All eyes on him.

Patrons put down their playing cards, eyes fixed on the stage. Hopeless romantics pushed to the front, trying to catch King Dice's eye. An excited hush fell over the room. When King Dice was performing, only a fool would ignore him.

King Dice took center stage, brandishing a microphone. He gave the conductor a wink. Then, the band began to play.

The trumpets crooned as King Dice slid to the front of the stage, putting a wistful smile on his face. The trombones thundered. The crowd was madly cheering. King Dice began to sing.

"I don't want you. But I hate to lose you. You got me in between the devil and the deep blue sea."

King Dice's eyes wandered across the crowd, searching for the only one who mattered to him. But, he was nowhere to be seen. Dice gnawed at the inside of his cheek, determined to keep up his happy appearance. He was happy. This was his dream come true... Until it wasn't. Why did it have to become so twisted? So bittersweet? Why did the Devil hurt him this way? Was he just that forgettable? That replaceable?

"I forgive you. 'Cause I can't forget you. You've got me in between the devil and the deep blue sea."

Beneath him, King Dice could see patrons dancing together. Smiling. Laughing. They looked so happy.

Dice's happy expression faded slightly. He was just acting, of course, matching the emotion of the song. King Dice sang out the lyrics sorrowfully, bringing some patrons to tears. Just a trick of the light. Each performance had to be perfect, nothing more. Why would he, King Dice, ever feel this way? No one would be stupid enough to hurt him in the way the song implied.

"I want to cross you off my list. But when you come knocking at my door. Fate seems to give my heart a twist. And I come running back for more."

King Dice's grip on the microphone tightened, his eyes still searching. Any moment now. The Devil would appear. Give him the smile King Dice always craved. But that moment never came...

"I should hate you. But I guess I love you. You've got me in between the devil and the deep blue sea."

Scatting now as he tap danced, King Dice glided across the stage, forcing the smile onto his face once again. He hopped across tables and slid through the dancing couples, kissing ladies' hands and giving men winks. Sauntering back up to the stage, King Dice bowed as the band triumphantly ended the song. The crowd burst into applause and a standing ovation.

They loved him. That was all King Dice needed. Or at least, that's what he told himself. But... Why didn't the Devil love him like that too?

"Git me another."

"Uh, I ain't so sure the boss wants you shitfaced on the clock, King."

King Dice looked up, face contorted into a glare, cheeks flushed red from the unseemly amounts of alcohol he'd consumed. Ol' Ethan, the bartender, was giving his a reprimanding look, an eyebrow raised.

"Are you the casino manager, Ethan?" He spat.

Ol' Ethan sighed. "Naw, King. You are."

"Exactly. Now get me my goddamn drink."

"If ya say so." Ol' Ethan said, heading to the back to grab another bottle of Hell's finest whiskey.

King Dice swore under his breath. Idiots the lot of them, trying to go against him. He'd show them, that was for sure. They'd all regret mocking him...

He was slumped over on the bar counter, waiting for his drink. The jazz music playing throughout the casino sounded distorted. Shit. He was really drunk. Rubbing his eyes, King Dice sat up, blearily looking around. Was it just the booze or was Ethan taking a while? Where did that deadbeat run off to? Aggravated, King Dice shakily stood up, slipping behind the bar and into the backroom. He'd find that fink and make him regret ever being born.

As King Dice ventured deeper into the cellar, he could hear the faint sounds of laughing and conversation. He gripped the handrailing in anger. How dare his staff screw off in his joint?

"Eh, I ain't too worried about it." Ethan chuckled, his voice echoing up the cellar stairs. "King's drunker than a divorced man. I'm sure he won't be any the wiser 'bout me bein' gone."

Ol' Ethan... That bastard.

"So, as I was sayin'. Didja hear about the red brat? Cupface or whatever his name was."

"Cuphead."

"Yeah, yeah, Cuphead. But that ain't important. Didja hear what happened? Boss pushed him off a ledge last week, broke every bone in his body an' paralyzed him, yeah? Guess what. I saw him today. Walkin'!"

King Dice gripped the rail to keep his balance, stumbling down the cellar stairs. He could hear multiple members of the casino staff tittering to one another. Gossiping. How many members of his staff were schmoozing down here?

"Damn shame the brat recovered so quick-like. Devil should've made him suffer longer, that cocky little bastard."

"You're goddamn right! Gin too, that bitch. Sidin' with them brats who ruined us. What the hell kinda sleepin' to the top is she tryin' to pull? I tell ya, if I was in charge instead of Dice, I wouldn't be mopin', about all heartbroken over some damn imp. I'd be goin' after Gin, the floozy. Makin' anyone who sides with them boys pay. It's plain traitorous if ya ask me."

King Dice made his way to the bottom of the stairs, sneaking up behind the group of gossipers, aggressively putting his arms around Ol' Ethan and Phear Lap, two of the five slacking-off employees.

"Ooh, work gossip! Care for me to join?" King Dice giggled with an ominous grin. "Or perhaps, should I remind you that y'all have a goddamn job to do! Git back to work this instant or I'll make sure the Devil paralyzes you all jus' like he did Cuphead, 'cept this time ya ain't ever walkin' again!"

Dice expected his sudden entrance to strike fear into his staff's hearts, but instead, they looked unfazed, maybe even a little amused.

"Oh, piss off, you kiss-ass. Go blow the Devil or somethin'. Oh, wait, he wants nothin' to do with you now that he has his precious boys." Chips Bettigan snickered.

That caught King Dice off-guard. His face flushed red with anger. The staff's laughter filled the room as they surrounded him.

"Better be careful, eh, King?" Ol' Ethan chimed in, elbowing him in the ribs. "The Devil may jus' up an' replace you with Cuphead once he's old enough. I mean, how old were you when you came here? Fifteen-"

That was enough.

King Dice was far too drunk and angry to care about the consequences. Lunging forward, he punched Ol' Ethan in the face with a nasty uppercut, knocking him back against the wall.

"How dare you speak to me that way?" King Dice screamed, kicking Ol Ethan directly in the face. Chipping his glass. Ol' Ethan groaned, putting up his hands in surrender, but King Dice didn't stop. He just kept kicking him over and over again. The other staff members darted back, fearful that they would be next, watching in horror.

"I'll teach you about talkin' to your boss that way!" King Dice continued, his eyes glowing bright green as he kept beating him. More pieces of Ol' Ethan chipped off and shattered. Till the rum glass' eyes fell shut, knocked unconscious against the wall.

King Dice smirked, satisfied. But, as he glanced up, he saw a terrified Phear Lap casting a spell- summoning the Devil.

"B-Boss. It's Dice. He's snapped."

King Dice sprinted toward Phear, trying to stop him before he finished casting the summons, but it was too late. The Devil appeared instantly in a puff of smoke.

"Shit!" King Dice hissed, drunkenly stumbling back, tripping on his coattails; falling onto the broken glass pieces of Ol' Ethan.

The Devil raised an eyebrow as he looked about the room. Rum was spilled everywhere. Ol' Ethan was shattered almost beyond recognition. King Dice looked like he hadn't slept in weeks: Terrible and unhinged.

"Dice. What do you think you're doing?"

Face flushed a bright red and slightly swaying, King Dice struggled to get back up to his feet. Why did the Devil have to be here, right now? He was too drunk to think clearly. What if he said something wrong?

"You look terrible, darling." The Devil said, looking King Dice up to down. "Pity, I thought you could handle operating the casino. Instead, it looks like you've taken to mauling your staff."

"No, no! I can do this, boss! I swear." King Dice sputtered. "I'll do better next time, I swear on my life, sir. Today was the odd day out. This won't happen again. I-I promise you!"

Then he lurched forward, vomiting violently, passing out, falling face first onto the floor.

King Dice groaned. He'd just had the most terrible dream. He'd snapped. Almost killed Ol' Ethan. The Devil had appeared, he'd looked so disappointed. Thankfully it was a bad dream, nothing more. Rolling onto his side, King Dice opened his eyes, expecting to see his room. Instead, he saw the Devil's room, with his boss sitting on the foot of the bed, looking over soul contracts.

"He finally awakens." The Devil said, neatly folding up his soul contracts and turning. "You've been asleep for the last 16 hours, darling."

King Dice's blood went cold. "W-What?"

"I took the liberty of removing your makeup and couldn't help but notice the dark circles under your eyes. Overworked doesn't even begin to describe you, Dice."

"I-I..." King Dice was at a loss for words. "I-I'm sorry, boss. It won't happen again, I jus'-"

The Devil shushed him. "Now, now. It was my fault for expecting too much of you. After all, everyone has their limits."

King Dice blushed a little, lowering his head in embarrassment. He'd failed the Devil. Again.

"What I think you need, Dice, is a little break."

"A break? No, no, you can't be serious!"

"Relax, Dice, you won't be gone forever." The Devil said, scooting next to him. "You can still run the casino if you'd like, but for only a few hours at a time, of course."

"A few hours?" King Dice turned away. He couldn't believe this.

"I know it's hard, Dice. You like your control, I understand. But, you need rest, my dear. If you keep pushing yourself like this, you're going to wind up dead. I would be distraught."

Dice perked up a little. "You would?"

"Oh Dice..." The Devil put his arm around King Dice's shoulder. "Of course, I would be. I don't know how I'd go on without you here. I know you've felt lonely recently, with me being busy so much, but don't take it as me abandoning you. I'm setting the two of us up for success. Those boys are our failsafe. With them under our thumb, we will never be made fools of again." He began to rub Dice's back. "They will protect us, Dice. Keep you from harm. After all, if someone wanted to get to me, you would be the prime target. I need you safe, darling. Those boys are my best bet at doing just that."

"You're right, as per usual." King Dice sighed, leaning into the Devil. "I'm sorry for doubtin' you, boss."

"I knew you'd come around."

Letting out a relieved sigh, King Dice laid back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It was as if a massive weight had been instantly lifted from his shoulders. "So... What happens now? With me not runnin' the casino for the most part. Who's gonna pick up the slack? An' what on earth am I gonna do with all this damn free time?"

The Devil laughed. "You're absolutely adorable, Dice! Don't you worry your pretty little head about the casino. I'll take care of it, I promise you. And as for you, I do have a small job for you."

"Oh yeah?" King Dice said, looking up at the demon. "Lay it on me, I'll give it all I've got."

The Devil's smiled, sighing happily. "What did I ever do to deserve you, Dice? There isn't a more devoted soul in all of hell and earth." Clearing his throat, he settled in next to Dice. "It's the weaker brother, Mugman."

"Mugman?" King Dice shot up like a cork. "Goddamit, boss. Why does every conversation gotta go back to those damn boys? I thought all I had to do for your plan was jus' not patronize 'em, end of story. Now you tellin' me I gotta work with 'em now? You better be jokin' I swear-"

"Easy, Dice, easy. He's not going to hurt you. That boy wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone you." The Devil said, putting a reassuring hand on Dice's arm. "He looks up to you, Dice. I would never put you in any type of danger or discomfort."

"Mhm." Dice grumbled, unconvinced. "Well? What I gotta do with this kid?"

"I need you to spend just an hour or so a day working with him. I've noticed he's going a little soft in recent weeks."

"Mugman, soft?" King Dice gasped sarcastically. "What a surprise. I thought that kid was already pretty damn soft, you telliin' me he's somehow gotten softer?"

The Devil nodded. "Ginette's been coddling him and his brother to no end. It's had a notable effect on Miugman and I want it gone. Rough him up, try and get his gift to show itself. I need The Sight."

"So? All I gotta do is rough him up a little while tryin' to get his mind readin' powers or somethin' like that to work?"

"Exactly!"

"Heh." King Dice snickered. "Oh, I can rough him up for you alright."

"That's what I love to hear!" The Devil grinned, pulling Dice into a kiss. King played right into his hand. He was sure that in no time, The Sight would show itself.