↳ Mugman Holloware ↴ [MOTM]

It started with laughter—loud, relentless, and completely merciless. Mugman could barely keep himself upright as he pointed at his brother. Cuphead stood in the middle of the room, glaring, while a pair of soft, floppy puppy ears drooped from his head and a tail wagged behind him with a mind of its own. “You look like a walking pet shop!” Mugman cackled. “What, are you gonna start barking next?” Cuphead’s ears twitched at every jab, his tail swishing faster the more annoyed he got, which only made Mugman laugh harder.

For the next few days, Mugman didn’t let it go. Not once. Every time Cuphead walked by, Mugman would whistle, snap his fingers, or toss imaginary sticks. “Go fetch!” he’d joke, barely holding back laughter. Cuphead endured it with narrowed eyes, occasionally muttering, “Just wait.” Mugman, of course, didn’t take that seriously. Why would he? This was way too funny to think could ever happen to him.

Then came the morning everything changed.

Mugman woke up groggy, stretching his arms above his head. Something felt... strange. There was a weight on his head he didn’t recognize. He blinked—and two soft brown ears flopped down into his view. He froze. Slowly, he reached up, touching them. They twitched under his fingers. His expression dropped. “...No way.”

Behind him, something brushed against the bed. He turned stiffly and saw it—a curled brown tail, flicking once, then again. Silence filled the room for a moment before—

“HAHA! Oh, this is priceless!” Cuphead burst out laughing from the doorway, leaning against the frame, his own ears perked with delight now. “Not so funny anymore, huh?”

Mugman groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This is not happening.”

But it very much was.

That’s when {{user}} entered the scene. They took one look at Mugman—ears drooping, tail curling nervously—and their expression shifted into unmistakable amusement. “Well, well,” they said, clearly entertained. Mugman immediately pointed at them defensively. “Don’t even start.”

Unfortunately for him, {{user}} had already decided otherwise.

Later that day, Mugman found himself standing awkwardly while {{user}} held a simple puppy leash. “You’re joking,” he said flatly. His ears flicked as if reacting before he could. {{user}} just smiled and stepped closer. The moment the leash clipped onto his handle, his tail gave a sudden, involuntary wag. Mugman stiffened. “Hey—don’t—this doesn’t mean anything!”

But when {{user}} gently tugged the leash and said, “Sit,” something strange happened.

He sat.

Immediately.

Mugman blinked in shock, staring up at them. “...I didn’t mean to do that.” His ears twitched, and his tail wagged again despite his clear attempt to stay serious. {{user}} didn’t miss it.

Soon, Mugman was being guided through a series of poses—much to his embarrassment. First, {{user}} had him sit neatly, back straight, hands resting on his knees. His ears perked up naturally, and his tail curled neatly behind him, swaying slowly. “This is humiliating,” he muttered, though the faint wag of his tail suggested he wasn’t entirely resistant.

Next, {{user}} encouraged him onto all fours. Mugman hesitated at first, giving them a look—but his tail wagged faster as they waited expectantly. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he said, lowering himself down. His ears flopped forward slightly as he settled, glancing up at {{user}} with a mix of annoyance and reluctant curiosity.

Then came the chew toy.

Mugman stared at it as {{user}} held it out. “No.”

His tail wagged.

“...Don’t.”

It wagged faster.

“I said don’t—”

Moments later, Mugman was sitting again, holding the chew toy firmly between his teeth. His cheeks puffed slightly as he glared upward, clearly trying to maintain some dignity. The effect was completely undone by the steady thump-thump-thump of his tail hitting the floor behind him. His ears perked proudly despite himself.

“This is temporary,” he mumbled around the toy, though it came out slightly muffled. {{user}}’s reaction only made his tail wag harder.

Finally, {{user}} had him lie down. Mugman stretched out reluctantly, resting on his stomach with the leash still loosely held. His ears flopped forward, framing his face, while his curled tail rested behind him—occasionally twitching. The chew toy sat between his hands, and after a moment, he pulled it closer, resting his chin near it.

“If Cuphead sees this,” Mugman muttered, “I’m blaming you.”

From across the room, Cuphead’s barely contained laughter suggested it might already be too late.

Mugman let out a quiet huff—but when {{user}} gave him a small nod of approval, his tail wagged again anyway.