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Mugman had dealt with a lot in his mortal life so far( H̶e̶'̶s̶ ̶s̶t̶a̶r̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶g̶e̶t̶ ̶t̶i̶r̶e̶d̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶w̶o̶r̶d̶,̶ ̶m̶o̶r̶t̶a̶l̶)
From sneaking into the Devil's Casino with his brother when he was younger, to Cuphead selling their souls for quick cash, to being forced to collect soul contracts from many dangerous people who could kill them with little to no help, to fighting the literal Devil and actually winning, to joining the staff of the Devil's Casino as a waiter as an adult. Mugma had experienced and seen almost everything so far in his life( H̶e̶'̶s̶ ̶h̶a̶d̶ ̶a̶ ̶t̶a̶s̶t̶e̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶h̶e̶l̶l̶ ̶t̶o̶o̶)
So yes, he has dealt with a lot.
But with a brother like Cuphead, combined with the fact that he was working at the Devil's Casino of all places as a waiter meant that he had to deal with the ridiculous shenanigans that his fellow coworkers brought along on a daily basis. And phone calls from the police station regarding bailing his coworkers out of jail were frequent because these ridiculous shenanigans were often illegal.
He gets the most phone calls after King Dice.
So he wasn't exactly surprised when his phone rang and showed his brother's contact number flashed on the screen after he had finished his shift and was in the middle of sweeping up the floor. He can feel the migraine already.
"Mugman, hurry up and get to the bank, quick!" is the only thing Cuphead yells through the phone, Mugman can hear the screaming and shout as well Chips' accent with some distant gunshots in the background of Cuphead's message. Before he can ask, his brother hangs up just as quickly as he called.
What?
Earlier that morning, his boss the Devil had sent his brother, Chips, Mangosteen, and only the Devil knows why Mr. Chimes was out for an 'errand' and they hadn't come back yet. Mugman had understood why his boss had sent Chips out but Mr. Chimes? He was a toy monkey that was basically only special in the way that he was sentient with a conscious. Not that he had voiced his thoughts.
"Um, I'm going to the bank, is that alright?" Mugman asked, shouting his question so King Dice could hear it. The manager looked up from the wine glass that he was polishing, eyebrow raises and an amused glint in his eyes, his cards hovering over his shoulders, nonetheless, King Dice nodded, giving Mugman the permission that he needed. He rushed off, not before saying a quick thank you.
Now to see what his brother is up to this time.
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Mugman opened his mouth and then closed it again.
It was worst than he thought.
His brother Cuphead was standing outside of the half-destroyed bank that was currently up in flames, a sheepish grin on his face and his shirt singed with the ash and cinder from the flames. His right hand held a sack full of what was probably money. Chips were currently running out of the flaming building, carrying more sacks while simultaneously shooting at police officers. Mangosteen looked giddy with the money in his arms and Mr. Chimes just stared.
Mugman internally wished that he could nurse a cup of gin or poison to drink right now.
His porcelain hand reached up to his forehead, massaging his temples while sending one irritated exasperated glare at his brother, something familiar but nonetheless terrifying. ( Chips once asked the dreaded question, "What's mug face like when he's mad." Cuphead flinched violently and stared him down. "Never ask me that again.") "What, in the world is going on here?" he asked.
"We, uh, may have uh robbed the bank," Cuphead replied, rubbing the back of his head. Mugman blinked and sighed, ignoring Chips making his way over with a carefree grin like they hadn't just robbed the bank. "And why did you call me over?" Mugman asked, irritated. A hand clapped on his shoulder, drawing out a flinch from him, ( I̶t̶ ̶h̶u̶r̶t̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶h̶u̶r̶t̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶h̶u̶r̶t̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶h̶u̶r̶t̶-̶ ) and he turned to face a smiling Chips.
"Because you're going to be our escape driver!" chips exclaimed, he didn't let Mugman process his whole sentence before shoving Cuphead, Mr. Chimes, and Mangosteen into a shady-looking vehicle that was probably stolen along with all the sacks of money and shoved him into the driver's seat. The mug-headed waiter blinked a few times before blanching and almost jumping out of the seat.
"What! Chips are you insane?! I don't know how to drive, I don't even have a driver's license!" Mugman shouted sending an incredulous look to his colleague. The wannabe cowboy only chuckled, cocking his shotgun and sending him a grin full of teeth. "Don't worry, it's easy, just follow your gut." Chips laughed. Mugman looked around, nobody seemed to object, not even his brother, who was too busy staring at the sacks full of cash.
(M̶u̶g̶m̶a̶n̶ ̶w̶o̶n̶d̶e̶r̶e̶d̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶b̶r̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶,̶ ̶s̶e̶l̶f̶i̶s̶h̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶g̶r̶e̶e̶d̶y̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶c̶a̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶c̶o̶n̶s̶e̶q̶u̶e̶n̶c̶e̶s̶ )
Chips looked through the back window of the vehicle, carefree expression dropping and replaced with an uncharacteristically serious one. He raised his gun and spoke to Mugman without looking at him. "And by the looks of it, ya better start driving soon, police cars are coming up ahead." at the mention of police cars, Mugman panicked. And by that, he meant he started the car based on instinct and stepped on the gas.
And boy did he step on the gas.
The car lurched forward, obviously in the hands of an inexperienced driver, it swerved onto the main road, speeding down the street with gunshots firing through the back window at the police cars chasing them. Chips didn't even seem to flinch at the sudden movement of the vehicle, only focusing on shooting the authority figures chasing them. Mangosteen let out an excited scream and Mr. Chimes flew out the window.
Cuphead's body lurched forward along with the vehicle, head banging into the roof of the car, causing a crack to form in his forehead. "OW! Mugs, be careful!" the waiter groaned, rubbing the crack formed. Mugman was clearly distraught, and irritated too, spinning the wheel and frantically hitting the brakes when the red light flashed. "Shush Cuphead I don't know how to drive!"
Chips reloaded his gun, an impressed look on his face. "You're doing surprisingly well mug face, ya sure this is ya first time driving?" the cowboy asks, aiming more bullets at the police officers pursuing them. Mugman internally wishes that he had his own gun and could also empty bullets at somebody. He makes another sharp turn, spinning the wheel so harshly that he almost yanks it off.
"No, I've never driven before!" Mugman yells, the sound of bullets almost drowning his voice. He turns left, then right, the car swerving along with his emotions.
Cuphead narrowly missed banging his head against the roof of the car again, he reached out to yank the window open, annoyed that he kept almost cracking his head open. (literally) Mugman just focused on making sharp turns into other roads and preventing the vehicle from crashing, desperately trying to find the casino with a busted GPS and zero driving experience.
The police officers chasing them were pretty persistent, they were undeterred by all the uncontrolled swerving and the many many twists and turns Mugman made, probably knowing that the driver was one who was either really bad at driving or was doing it on purpose to throw them off. Chips emptying bullets with his shotgun at them didn't faze them in the slightest, their only goal, was to catch them.
"Damn, these motherfuckers don't know how to quit!" Chips cursed, narrowly missing a bullet to the head that one of the officers fired. Mugman increased the speed, the vehicle surging forward slightly faster than it did before, attempting to get away from the police.
A shot was fired and the glass of the windscreen broke, a hole surrounded by crack lines in the glass.
Chips hissed, reloading his gun to continue firing, Mangosteen yelped, feeling the gold bullet whizz right past him and Cuphead remained ignorant, half his body sticking out the open window with money signs in his eyes as he stared dreamily at the money bag as if it were his destined soulmate. Mugman had absolutely no time to scream because another gunshot was fired at them.
Mugman could barely hear the high-pitched metallic squeal as the gunshot rang in his ears, hysteria, and dread settling in his gut as he felt something wet that was painfully familiar drip down his shoulder. His mind raced as he drove down the road, the arrow a slight move away from breaking the speed limit and a flashing red light ahead of them. Another gunshot sounded and something within him snapped.
He wasn't going to go to jail and get arrested and get sentenced and suffer life in prison just because he just so happened to have the bad luck of getting dragged into his colleagues' ridiculous illegal shenanigans. He doesn't care if the devil literally made them do it. Mugman was not going to go to jail today. ( H̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶g̶o̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶s̶u̶f̶f̶e̶r̶ ̶a̶g̶a̶i̶n̶ ̶b̶e̶c̶a̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶b̶r̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ )
Fuck it.
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Cuphead screamed as he felt the vehicle go beyond speeds that were possible for an old rusty car.
Mugman on the other hand, didn't seem to give a fuck because he just stepped on the gas peddle even harder. Chips was literally on the verge of puking but forced himself up to continue shooting at the police officers that were slowly falling behind. Mangosteen looked in absolute bliss.
Mr. Chimes? Well, he was just chilling, getting smooshed against the car plate.
The driving wheel spun so many times you would have thought that it was a spinning wheel and not a driving wheel. Nonetheless, the mug-headed waiter continued spinning the driving wheel as if it were his own personal toy, making turns so sharp they could've cut through iron.
And the most bullshitting part?
They were actually getting closer to the casino.
Chips didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Mugman had the most stone-cold impassive expression on his face as he continued to drive like a professional escape driver even though he has never driven before. The police cars chasing them fell back further and further, slowly fading into the distance as the waiter drove faster and faster, long gone past the speed limit and running way too many red lights.
The cowboy struggled to keep his body up as the impossible speed was starting to make him queasy, and bile settled at the back of his throat. Which was ironic coming from him since he both had a smoking addiction and was dating a literal cigarette who always reeked of smoke and tobacco. He ducked down into the car to reload his gun again.
Honestly, he riddle the police car with so many bullet holes that he actually felt sorry for the person who would have to fix it up.
"Hey Chips, you better stop shooting. " Mugman spoke up, making the cowboy look up at the waiter. Chips sent the younger a quizzical look but nothing was revealed from the impassive expression Mugman was wearing. "Why?" he asked cautiously. The waiter put on a slightly feral smile and turned back to the wheel.
"This is why."
The waiter tightened his grip on the driving wheel and slammed his foot on the gas pedal, nearly breaking the thing in the process. The car lurched forward, almost flying off the road at the sudden increase in speed. The glass of the speedometer shattered along with any hopes Chips had.
His shotgun had jerked out of his hold and rolled somewhere below the seat, not that he'd be able to use it anyway because the only thing he could see were stars. The arrow of the speedometer was way past the maximum speed the car could go, yet, Mugman was somehow driving past that speed limit. Chips' body gave up on him, melting into the car seat and holding on to dear life because he might fly out of the car if he didn't.
Cuphead, whose body was sticking out of the open window, hit his handle against the top of the window, suddenly aware of the impossible dangerous speeds his brother was driving the car at. "MUGMAN WHAT THE FUCK!" the cup-headed adult screamed, voice high-pitched like a little girl's. The only thing Mugman did, sent him a terrifyingly feral glare.
"YOU ASKED FOR THIS CUPHEAD, SO YOU DEAL WITH THE CONSEQUENCES!"
Mangosteen looked absolutely unperturbed at the speed Mugman was going, laughing and giggling with all the excitement of a small toddler in Disneyland. A child=like sense of wonder and curiosity in his eyes. He seemed like a kid in a candy store.
Even the police officers seemed to be bewildered at Mugman's driving speed, openly gaping at the rusty escape vehicle that was practically flying because of how fast it was going. One of them even pinched themselves to make sure it wasn't a dream.
Chips sure wished it was a dream though, but it'd be more accurately a nightmare if anything else.
A horrifying nightmare that would hunt for an eternity.
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They somehow made it back to the casino in one piece.
Well, not exactly one piece because Cuphead was still patching up the crack lines in his handle and forehead but they were fortunately still alive and breathing. Chips is still half convinced that Mugman is either god or he was experiencing a fever dream because they should've crashed.
But no, their rusty old escape vehicle that he stole off the street was parked perfectly outside the building with all the other cars, looking extremely out of place among all the fancy shiny cars parked along with it but the car was there, and it one piece, not even a single scratch on it. The only thing he did was take a sip of his whiskey, which confirmed that it was reality.
He looked over to Mugman, who was just casually nursing a small shot glass of some sort of green liquid after finishing two shots of Gin and another two shots of the mysterious green liquid. On any other day, Chips would have asked what the liquid was but he was currently too tired.
And Mugman was acting as if nothing had happened at all.
King Dice, the bastard, simply looked amused at the situation they were in. And by the situation, he meant Cuphead complaining about the cracks he was patching while also gushing at the sheer amount of cash they nabbed, mangosteen bouncing up and down like a little kid going on and on about their 'fun driving adventure' and the creepy monkey looking depressed with his ruffled fur smeared with dust.
"And pray tell me what made you think making a 25-year-old the escape driver was a good idea?" King Dice asked, absentmindedly patting the devil's fur. ( which would always be disturbing) Chips wished Wheezy would come over and give him a kiss but their relationship was still in the dark so he couldn't. "I don't know okay I just thought since they've flown planes before it would be fine!" he scowled.
Which was the wrong thing to think apparently.
The purple-wearing manager snorted, rolling his eyes and shaking his head at their antics. He turned his scheming snake eyes to Mugman, who had five empty shot glasses set on the table with a slightly concerned look in his eyes. "Though I am curious, what exactly made you drive like that? Where did you even learn to drive like that?" King Dice inquired.
"I guess I panicked when the police started shooting at us, so I sorta just followed my instinct." the waiter replied, a sheepish smile on his face.
Chips openly gaped at his reply, seriously? he just followed his instinct? The cowboy could get behind panicking when being shot at but he was driving like an absolute god because he was following his instinct?!
The dice-headed manager seemed shocked as well because his eyebrows were raised a little higher. "Really now?" Mugman just nodded, staring into space. And maybe the gin was particularly strong, or maybe Mugman was too exhausted and that was why the alcohol got into his system a little earlier, or perhaps it was the mysterious green liquid ( It was definitely the green liquid) because he blurted something out.
"I've had 6 shots in me, two are gin, three are lethal poison and one is a bullet that I forgot to take out of my shoulder, and I was feeling all of them tonight." Chips choked on his whiskey and King Dice snapped his head toward the waiter. Pirouletta stopped whipping wine glasses, instead turning to Mugman with concern written in her features. Phear lap looked as concerned as a skeletal horse could be.
"WAIT YOU GOT SHOT!" Cuphead screeched, forgetting his cracks and rushing over to his brother's side. ( M̶u̶g̶m̶a̶n̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶s̶u̶r̶p̶r̶i̶s̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶b̶r̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶c̶a̶r̶e̶s̶ )
Chips rush over as well, with a small bottle of alcohol and a clean cloth in his hand, he didn't grab the bandages since he saw Dice grab the first aid kit out of the corner of his eyes."SHIT! You got shot at?! Why didn't you say anything before?!" Chips yelled, he lifted the sleeve of Mugman's shirt, which was damp with soul liquid, and saw a hole surrounded by crack lines.
The cowboy readied himself to remove the bullet from the waiter's shoulder, the younger already looked pretty dazed, seriously how did he keep driving like that after being shot in the shoulder?! ( Oh right porcelain, can't feel pain)
That's the exact moment he realized something.
All of the other's seemed to realize it as well because they all snapped their heads toward the young adult with eyes the size of saucers. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY 3 SHOTS WERE LETHAL POISON?!" they all yelled at the same time. Their combined voices seemed to snap Mugman out of his daze as he covered his mouth, seemingly noticing his slip-up.
Cuphead looked more disappointed than scared and shocked. And Phear lap just looked baffled.
"I told you to stop drinking poison!" "You drank lethal poison after you got shot?!" Cuphead and Phear Lap shouted at the same time. They both looked at each other in shock, staring at each other before turning back to Mugman.
"How does he know?!" Cuphead demanded, arms crossed. The skeletal horse stayed silent, taking a sip of the green liquid, now identified as the poison. Letha poison.
Mugman ignored his brother, instead turning to look at the rest of them with a rather sheepish expression on his face. "Um... well... I'm kinda... immune to poison of all types/" the waiter revealed with pathetic jazz hands.
"WHAT!"
The devil just purred silently on one of the bar stools, unaware of the chaos that was storming the casino all because he had asked them to go on an errand which turned out to be robbing the bank. ( Not that he was complaining about that, he hasn't had that much fun in a while, and no Wheezy did not count.) Guess the devil really was the catalyst of all things huh?
They never asked Mugman to be an escape driver ever again.