Tucker landed gracefully the ground after jumping off a tall building, his form perfectly balancing him as his paws met the warm, slightly gritty pavement below.
The surroundings had changed significantly from the towering, modern buildings to something more aged and rustic.
The architecture around him seemed to belong to another time, though he couldn't quite place which era. The bricks were chipped, the ironworks rusted, and the streets had a white wooden finish that clashed with the more contemporary parts of Pentagram City.
"Hell sure has some interesting neighbourhoods," Tucker muttered to himself as he took in the sights.
The smell that had lured him here grew stronger, guiding him to a quaint little shop with a sign overhead that read "Cookie Monsters." Intrigued and hungry, he made his way inside, pushing the door open, a small bell jingling above as he entered.
The inside of the shop was eerily quiet, and Tucker immediately noticed it was devoid of any other customers—save for one.
A demon with a somewhat greasy appearance was standing a few feet away, engrossed in a one-sided conversation with a cardboard cutout of… something.
Tucker wasn't sure what exactly the cutout was supposed to be, and frankly, he didn't want to know.
Leaning in slightly, Tucker could catch snippets of the demon's conversation. "You're the only one who gets me," he whispered, "No one else understands like you do… Why don't we make this official?"
"Okay, that's enough of that," Tucker muttered, quickly averting his gaze. He approached the counter, eager to get his food and leave the disturbing scene behind.
As he did, he was greeted by a peculiar sight: a demon with a head made entirely of teeth, front and back, and floating eyes hovering above.
The toothy demon grinned—or at least, Tucker assumed it was a grin—when he saw tucker approach. "Welcome, welcome, a customer so keen! What would you like from our sweet, toothy scene?"
Tucker blinked, momentarily thrown off by the demon's rhyming speech. He stared at the demon, trying to make sense of the strange verse. "Uh… do you always talk like that?" Tucker asked, out of curiosity.
The demon's eyes twinkled as he replied, "Rhymes keep the dark thoughts at bay, Helps me get through another day!" He ended with a bizarre laugh that was accompanied by a slap to his knee, the sound echoing oddly in the empty shop.
Tucker tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. "That's… one way to cope, I guess. But how about you just tell me what's good here without the riddles?"
The demon's floating eyes widened, surprised by the request. "No riddles, no rhymes, just plain old speech? That's a tough request, you're asking of me," the demon said, visibly struggling to break out of his rhyming habit.
Tucker sighed, realizing this wasn't going to be easy. "All right, just give me some cookies and that chocolate muffin over there," he said, pointing with his paw to the items on display.
The demon quickly began packing up the order, his eyes flicking back to Tucker with curiosity. "Such a fox with quite the appetite, you must have a big day ahead, am I right?"
Tucker rolled his eyes. "Something like that. I just need something good to eat before I head out again."
As the demon finished packing up the order, he pushed the box across the counter toward Tucker. "Here you go, fresh and sweet, a treat to make your day complete."
Tucker took the box in his mouth and mumbled, "Thanks!"
As Tucker turned to leave, the toothy demon called out, "Would you be eating in, or will you flee, with these treats of sweetness and glee?"
Tucker glanced at the tables outside. "I'll eat here," he said, deciding to eat outside.
He headed toward the door, and as he pushed it open, he heard the demon mutter something in an unsettling tone, though he didn't catch the words.
Tucker paused for a moment, his fur bristling as a shiver ran down his spine. He turned back slightly and caught a glimpse of the demon putting the money in the register.
Inside the drawer, nestled among the cash, was a revolver. The demon's floating eyes suddenly locked onto Tucker's, a twisted smile spreading across his face as he let out a low, unsettling chuckle.
"Well, that was weird," Tucker muttered under his breath, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling. He pushed the door open wider and stepped outside.
As he passed by the demon who had been flirting with the cardboard cutout, Tucker noticed that the demon was now dragging the cutout toward the bathroom, mumbling incoherently to himself.
The mandible demon at the counter, meanwhile, was staring off into space, his floating eyes distant as if seeing something far beyond his immortal coil.
He quickly found a table and chair set up under the awning and hopped onto the chair, his fluffy tail curling around him as he placed the box of baked goods on the table.
"All right, let's see if these taste as good as they smell," Tucker said to himself, opening the box and taking out a cookie. He gave it a tentative sniff before taking a bite.
The rich flavours exploded on his tongue, causing his eyes to widen in surprise. It was good—really good. "Damn, that's amazing," he mumbled with his mouth full.
As he continued to enjoy his meal, he heard the distant sound of jazz music, faint at first but gradually growing louder.
Curious, he turned his head to see a stylish, striped cat demon strolling down the street, a saxophone in hand. [Cat demon Pic]
The demon was playing an upbeat, funky tune that contrasted with the grim environment of hell, yet it somehow fit perfectly.
Tucker found himself nodding along to the rhythm. He's noticed that his music appreciation has increased after staying by Valentina's side for as long as he did.
Just as he was starting to enjoy his meal, the sound of shattering glass interrupted the moment.
Tucker's ears perked up as he turned to see the greasy demon from earlier—now without his pants—crashing through the glass door of the bakery.
He was crying out, "It's just cold! It's just cold!" as he sprinted down the street, clearly in distress.
Tucker watched in bewilderment as the demon disappeared around the corner. "And there it is, back to weird," he muttered, shaking his head.
He looked back at the shop, noticing the mandible demon still staring blankly into the distance. "I should probably get out of here before things get even stranger."
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After finishing his meal, Tucker leaned back in his chair, his tail swishing contentedly.
Deciding it was time to leave, Tucker stood up and looked around for a trash can. Not seeing one nearby, he shrugged and decided to take matters into his own paws—literally.
Concentrating for a moment, he let a small burst of fire escape from his mouth, the flames engulfing the empty box and napkins. Within seconds, the trash was reduced to a pile of ash that the wind soon scattered across the pavement.
As he began to walk down the street, the soothing sound of blues music caught his attention once again.
The stylish cat demon from earlier was now playing a slower, more soulful tune on his saxophone.
The cat demon, noticing Tucker's approach, briefly paused his playing and gave a nod in Tucker's direction, tipping his fedora in a cool, gesture.
Tucker stopped in front of the demon and reached into a small pouch hidden in his fur. He pulled out two green 100 soul notes and tossed them into the open saxophone case at the cat demon's feet.
"Keep it up," Tucker said with a grin, his tail flicking happily behind him.
"Much appreciated, foxy," the demon purred, his voice smooth and rich. He tipped his fedora again before bringing the saxophone back to his lips, continuing his soothing blues melody.
As Tucker began to walk away, something caught his eye. A small, furry demon—barely the size of a large rat—was creeping up behind the cat demon. Its tiny claws clicked against the pavement.
Tucker could see the cat demon stiffen, his music faltering slightly as he became aware of the presence behind him.
But before the demon could make its move, Tucker's tail shot out like a whip, extending far beyond its normal length. With a sharp crack, the tail smacked the little demon, sending it flying into the distance.
The cat demon spun around, lowering his saxophone and preparing to defend himself, but when he looked, there was nothing there.
"What the—" the cat demon began, looking around in confusion before guessing what happened.
The cat demon spun around, ready to thank Tucker, but when he turned back, Tucker was already gone.
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Eventually, Tucker found himself back on the rooftop of one of the tallest buildings in Pentagram City.
Tucker sat down, taking a moment to enjoy the view. He then remembered something and summoned his phone from his hidden pouch. With a quick swipe, he opened his sinstagram account and pulled up a conversation with Lucy.
With a fox-like smile, he selected a meme from his gallery—a picture of a duck wearing a top hat with the caption "Feeling Ducky Today!" He added a text below the image that read...
[Hey, I finally made it yesterday. Sorry for the late text. I found this nice bakery. Wonder if you're available tomorrow??]
After hitting send, Tucker stared at the screen, waiting for a response. Normally, Lucy was quick to reply. But this time, the screen remained silent.
"Probably busy with something," Tucker muttered to himself, standing up and stretching. "I'll hear back later."
What Tucker didn't know was that Lucy was preoccupied with something particularly important at that very moment.
Lucifer Morningstar, the ruler of Hell itself—
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Was currently overseeing the filming of "Snakes on a Plane: Duck Edition."
He was lounging in a luxurious, oversized bathtub, the water bubbling with a fragrant, crimson-tinted foam.
A GoPro was strapped to his head, as he recited lines he wrote for the characters.
Finally, with a dramatic pause, he delivered the iconic line: "I have had it with these mother ducking skunks on this mother ducking plane!"
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Sorry for the late upload; been pretty busy.