“Betelgeuse” just can’t stand by himself, like “a one-man show”. He needs a side-kick, or someone “to bounce ideas, off-of” or heaven, forbid– “even move the plot, forward”. Enter “Cousin Hugo”, as you can envision a rotund, sour-faced clown in white face-paint and a jaundiced-air. . . . . a bit like “Insane Clown Posse” or even “the voice of modern reason” as fiendishness takes-on a contemporary-tone.
Consider him, to be a cousin or nephew in the demon-family– but one that is highly compute- savvy and insists “that technology is the future”. Ole’ Beetle’s methods are creaky “haunted-house” gags, but this relative would took about “data-downloads” and pools of illegal pirate-files, and somehow– getting all this cyber-ocean, of 0’s and 1’s, to funnel into your bank account, one “fraction-of-a-cent” at a time as ideas, or memes– trade around, and perhaps have some sort of “spiritual existence” as it plays into corporate logos, like Ronald McDonald or the “Little Caesar’s” mascot like “ghosts, of ideas” and also some clever bit of “product-placement”
You could see, Hugo as a young “tech guru”, informally-dressed in shirt-sleeves in face-paint and overlooking “a network”, like a database manager in the service of rotten corporate malfeasance, leaning back with a giant programmer’s “Big Gulp” and slurping from a straw “like a foul little arrangement”. Soon, he’d “take-over the world”, his head grinning over the globe in an evil comic-book grin, and perhaps what is so evil and predictable about maniacal “web-master” domains.
Early-on, Hugo and Betelgeuse shoot “crude infomercials” for “living-soul pest-control”, snapping the director’s clapboard “and running into frame” as they’re meant to trade-off lines, but Betelgeuse keeps talking, and talking until Hugo stamps his foot and they’re quarreling like “Beavis & Butthead” before the mic as “The Viewer” looses attention and channel-surfs through ghost-themed, eerie channels picked-up on the ‘ole satellite-dish as “dying ain’t much, of a living” for these two bargain-basement contractors.
The figure of “Death” rises up from nothingness and scolds them, to all those rules and regulations “taking, account” of the strange laws that dictate the universe, or fate– like time’s arrow wrapped-into a Mobius-strip, and “jumping” from timeline-to-timeline as it’s a thousand deaths, for the two– rematerialized back through red pop-up doors like a gateway traced in space, as the rules “are strange”, and yet “unusual” like a plot-line from “Weird Tales”. Too weird to make a sequel, with– or are folks beginning “to take interest”?
You decide, and spread the word, around. Hocus-pocus, Abacadrabra “site statistics”– you make-it real, you know.