Cuphead: Cannikin's Deal with the Devil

Chapter Three: Floral Fury

[Image above showcases my redesigns for King Dice and the Devil. The boys!!]

OH MY GOD. 111 NOTIFS THIS MORNING. YOU PEOPLE ARE INSANE /POS

If you saw that character update on tiktok you know what's coming up

Sorry this took too long I'm making this out of pure boredom so I don't have a schedule for when chapters are published. Also, I'm working on a much more original comic series so my focus is drawn towards that more than this. However I'll still do my best to produce content you guys enjoy until the comic series is officially published :) enjoy!!! Or don't!!! I don't care!!!

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Cannikin stares at her beige-colored rotary phone with an intense expression, as if she's just waiting for it to ring. Her clock "tick-tocks" in a sea of ear-ringing silence. She's still. Motionless. Completely and utterly absorbed in her own mind. The thing is, she's not waiting to receive a call. Cannikin is waiting for her own hands to pick up the phone. Or maybe- if she stares at it hard enough- she'll telepathically send a message through the phone and to the other end... but that's not likely.
Tick...
Tock...
Tick...
Tock...
Tick...
Tock...
Fzzzztttt!

Cannikin flinches. Her TV buzzes with static in the other room.
"Caaaaaaaaans! Your damned television is busted again!" The harsh, raspy voice of a familiar friend shrieks from her living room. Cannikin stands- groaning in annoyance.

"Cagney, I invited you here to help me- not watch TV." She speaks to the large, angry, throned flower who's banging his fist on the roof of the television set.
"I am helping ya!" Cagney insists. "You got yer straw in a twist, dontcha? Why not sit back, relax, watch some- oh, damn you, damn you! Work, you confounded piece of-!"

"Cagney!" Cannikin barks, all too familiar with her floral friend's ignorance. She walks to the barely-functional television and shuts it off. "I'm serious! I need your help taking to Elder Kettle. If I don't convince him to let me talk to my brothers, the Devil could... he'll..." Cannikin trails off- intense intrusive thoughts of what exactly the Devil could do to her brothers play out in her mind. Cagney stares down at his friend with a worried expression.
"Alright. Alright, I'll help. But you know I'm not too good at talkin' to people- no less convincin' them."
"Oh, please-" Cannikin displays a weak smile. "You convinced me to keep you around instead of giving you the boot- even though you're dumb as rocks."

"Hey!" Cagney whines. Cannikin laughs. It feels good to have a genuine laugh for once- that's one of the reasons why Cannikin keeps this guy around. That, and the poor plant really had nowhere else to go at the time. His feisty personality mixed with his evident anger management issues always seemed to push people away, no matter how hard he tried to find a place to fit in- it was always himself or the people around him that got hurt. Cannikin felt empathetic towards him- being a fellow "outcast" and all that. She finds comfort in knowing she's not the only one who's misunderstood.

Of course, Cannikin would never even utter all this mushy, cheesy, "friendship is forever" talk to Cagney. So, in place of that, he gets to use her TV.

Cannikin walks back to the rotary phone on the kitchen table- Cagney follows behind. There's a moment of silence between the two of them as they both stare blankly at the device.

"When's the last time you spoke with the old man?" Cagney inquires.
"Hell, I don't know." Cannikin scratches the back of her head, as if digging for memories of Elder Kettle. "Most of my memories of him are kinda fuzzy... and the only memories I do recall of him are... not very happy ones, to put it lightly."
Cagney pulls up a chair, seating himself on it.
"Doesn't he like, hate you- or somethin'?" He asks, rather bluntly.