Richard Ayoade's Disenchantmentplace

Chapter 32

Squalid Squirrel on TV: I'm Squalid Squirrel! (laughs)

Bean: Ugh, listen to that annoying voice. It's like the squirrel of my dreams.

Luci: (smirking) Just when I thought I had you pegged.

Alva: Ah, the pure delight of cartoons. But this is absolute madness! Skeletons dancing? Unless...

Jerry: Cartoons are my jam. It's reality, but for dummies.

Bean: Quiet down, just enjoy it.

Alva: (turning around, surprised) Bean! Come out, and let me guess, you're Moose. Care for a brew, love?

Jerry: Yes.

Bean: No.

Jerry: Yes!

Bean: Maybe later.

Jerry: Yes.

Bean: (sighs) Alright, yes. But first, tell me why the elevator from hell leads straight to your office. What's your deal with hell, and where's that beer?

Y/n: (revealing himself) Surprise, just like that. I fibbed, there's no beer here. (takes another sip, grinning) You know, just sipping on the source of inspiration. However, I'm afraid it's not on the menu for you. (takes a sip, grinning)

Summoning robotic lamps, Y/n's henchbots entered the scene.

Y/n: Oops, fibbed again. Of course, there's beer, but sorry, it's not for you. (takes a sip, grinning)

Bean: Jerry, hand me that hammer.

Jerry swiftly handed over the hammer, and Bean smashed the approaching lamps.

Y/n: Those bulbs were high-end and sold separately.

Bean: Alright, spill it, Alva. I want names, dates, three beers, and a bowl of nuts. And don't even think of fibbing.

Alva: Alright, before we engage in any unnecessary clobbering, let me just say that I fully comprehend the extent of my monumental screw-up. I admit, I've fallen quite hard for your unique charm, but I understand that love isn't something you can force.

Bean: (sarcastically) Well, isn't that touching? Because newsflash, I don't even like you.

Alva: (feigning surprise) Really? What a shocker. I mean, who wouldn't adore the delightful presence of the buck-toothed degenerate that you are? (rolls eyes)

Bean marched over to Alva, who quickly wheeled away in his fancy new mechanized chair.

Bean: Fancy contraption you got there, but save the theatrics.

Alva: (smirking) Oh, this? My latest invention, the Arse Chariot. Fancy a spin? (winks)

Bean: Knock it off. What's your connection to hell, Alva?

Alva: Well, you see, we're neighbors. Can't choose 'em, can ya? (winks, hinting at how hell plays a part in the Steamland's steam, and technically, he's the prince of Steamland, so they're kinda intertwined) And remember that amusement ride of yours?

Bean: Yeah, the one that didn't mention anything about hell?

Alva: (grinning) Steam and hell, dear. We've had quite the deal going on. (winks)

Bean: (skeptical) Oh, please, spare me the elaborate sentence. Just spill it.

Alva: Satan? Oh, he's quite the charming chap. And quite the looker too.

Bean: What's he look like?

Alva: Picture this – red face, little horns, high cheekbones to die for, and a pointy goatee.