[Chapter 1, Scene 3: Glorious and Divine]

Even in the day, the Devil's Casino thrives, hustling and bustling with regulars and newcomers alike. Elsie is one of the latter- as prim and proper a girl as her mother raised her- and so she finds herself frazzled the moment her loving boyfriend decides taking on one of the slot machines would be more fun than babysitting her.

Horse feathers. You'd think he'd know better than to leave a girl like her just standing around a dump like this.

With a huff, Elsie stomps away from the machines and heads to the least populated place she can find in the casino, which happens to be the bar. Although she'd like nothing more than to give her guy a taste of his own medicine, her mother instilled a good sense of fear in her, and she knows better than to gamble in the Devil's territory.

It's bad enough she let her boyfriend convince her to sneak out and come here.

Elsie nestles down on one of the pleasantly comfortable bar stools and crosses her arms on the table, peering around to watch for any suspicious figures. So far, there are a few older men with her, but they seem to be occupied with razzing each other or staring into their liquor like they're trying to divine their fate in its reflection. She finds the bartender farther away, his back turned to her as he serves an older woman- the two of them seemingly entrenched in a delightful conversation.

Lastly, she finds a couple on her other side, necking so fiercely that they'd likely be fined for public indecency if they were outdoors.

Blushing, Elsie drops her head into her arms and groans.

I really, really shouldn't have come here.

"Huh. Already jazzed? I don't even remember giving you anything to drink."

Elsie squeals, hopping in her seat at the unexpected voice. She looks up indignantly when she hears them laugh, but her breath catches in her throat when she is met with a cheeky smile and red rosy eyes.

Oh, what a sheik.

The bartender's grin seems to widen as if he can hear her thoughts, causing Elsie to flush and look away. Her tail frizzes behind her as she desperately tries to stuff it back under her skirt, all too aware of the way his eyes refuse to leave her.

"I'm not a drinker," Elsie bites her lip when her voice comes out much higher than she'd like. Huffing at her own demeanor, she fixes a stern glare on him and trains her voice back to normal, "And you shouldn't sneak up on a lady like that!" The bartender teasingly puts his hands up.

"My bad. Usually, the people I get around my bar either like to drink," he nods towards the group of men, "or like to have me sneak up on them," he winks and gestures to the woman he'd been serving, "So seeing as you don't fit into either those, what exactly are you doing here?"

Reminded of the reason she'd come, Elsie glances back at the slot machines with her ears folded down.

"I'm on a date."

He raises a brow at her tone, and leans forward to rest his head on his hand.

"I see. Well then, I'd like to meet the daisy that left a dame like you to hang around these boozehounds. I'm sure with a little chin music, he'll start seeing sense."

Elsie can't stop herself from giggling, both from his words and the stupidly charming smirk he gives her. The glint in his eyes tells her he's not talking about idle chatter.

"I'm flattered, but I'd rather not draw any more attention with a fight. My parents don't know I'm here, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Oooh. How rebellious," he purrs, "I like a girl with some fire in her."

Elsie flushes, "N-now hold on, mister. My mother didn't raise no chippy! Remember, I have a boyfriend!" she stutters.

She wonders if the words are more for him or for her.

"Can't blame a guy for trying," he shrugs, "Especially with someone like you, kitten."

If it had been any other guy, even her boyfriend, Elsie would have gotten real sore over the pet name. As it stands, he just keeps making her scramble to remember her morals.

"So, lady Jane. Fancy giving me your name or should I just keep calling you mine in my head?"

Get out of here, Elsie. This is a losing battle.

"Elsie," she squeaks out, "My name is Elsie."

He offers her a hand, chuckling when she takes it hesitantly, "Pleasure to meet you, Elsie. You can call me Cuphead."

.

.

.

The moment she leaves, Cuphead lets malice creep into his smile. He flags down one of the skeleton workers and whispers into their ear.

"Keep an eye on that chick and her boytoy. Tell whoever's manning the slots to tighten the screws on the guy until King can get to him. After that, he should get him running with the rats and the mice," he mutters and pulls back.

The skeleton nods and Cuphead watches as he slinks off to the machines. He grins when Elsie peeks over at him, and teasingly waves his hand at her. She smiles back, oblivious to the demon she'd carelessly let privy to all her and her boyfriend's worries and fears.

Ah, what a sucker.

He sees one of the Tipsy Troop approach him and stretches his arm up, "About time. You here to switch?"

Rum narrows his eyes, obviously straining to sober up just enough to answer him properly, "Yes...wait, no. No, not yet," Cuphead rolls his eyes as he slowly continues, "S-someone's *hic*... lookin' for ya outside."

"Is that so?" Cuphead replies and straightens up. He pulls off his apron and whips it at Rum, snickering when it catches on his nose and sends him sprawling backwards, "Then I guess you're covering for me after all."

He whistles, pleased when a nearby waiter immediately freezes and runs to him. Sauntering off, he points back at Rum's prone body.

"Clean that up before he dies! Hiring good help's a bitch nowadays."