A figure emerged from backstage, and Ruho's jaw nearly hit the floor.
Tyrix's wife was... smoking hot. Like, objectively, undeniably, physics-defyingly attractive. She had the same glowing yellow skin as Tyrix, but where his body was all sharp angles and manic energy, hers was pure curves. Hips that shouldn't be possible on any skeletal structure. A waist that created an hourglass figure so pronounced it looked like someone had photoshopped reality. She wore a dress that hugged every single one of those impossible curves, deep purple silk that shimmered under the stage lights, and on her head was an enormous wide-brimmed hat like something from an 1800s opera house, decorated with feathers and probably cost more than Ruho's entire previous existence.
Her face or the glowing approximation of one had the same featureless quality as Tyrix, but somehow still managed to convey mature beauty. Elegant. Sophisticated. The kind of woman who could destroy a man with a glance and knew it.
Ruho stared. Couldn't help it. His eyes tracked the movement of her hips as she walked across the stage, the way the dress shifted, the way she moved with the confidence of someone who knew exactly what effect she had on people.
And then he felt hands on his shoulders.
Not gentle hands. Firm hands. Gripping. Massaging in a way that was definitely more threatening than relaxing.
"Hey, uh... bud," Tyrix's voice came from directly behind him, no longer booming for the crowd but quiet and dangerous. "Ruho. Pal. You uhh... checking out my WIFE?"
Ruho felt the fingers on his shoulders growing. Actually growing. Lengthening. The grip tightened until it was almost painful.
"I uh... uhh, nah, no no no dude... yeah, no," Ruho stammered, his voice cracking. "Just... just looking at the stage. The lights. Very bright lights. Not looking at anything else. Definitely not—"
"Oh, but you DID," Tyrix said, and Ruho could hear the grin in his voice even without seeing it. The fingers kept tightening. "Now, I may have CREATED her, but she's too old for you, buddy. Way too old. How about you stick to your little femboy, aight?"
Ruho's brain short-circuited. "Wait, what—"
"DONNNNN'T WORRY ABOUT IT, BUDDDDDDDY!" Tyrix's voice instantly switched back to his booming show host energy, the threatening grip disappearing as he spun back to face the audience. "ISN'T SHE GORGEOUS, FOLKS?!"
The crowd roared approval.
And then, from behind Tyrix's wife, another figure appeared.
She was tall maybe seven feet, close to Tyrix's height and wearing a sharp tuxedo that somehow looked both formal and playful at the same time. Same glowing yellow skin, same featureless face with that impossible grin, but her energy was completely different from her father's. Where Tyrix was manic and aggressive, this girl was... bouncy. Energetic in a way that felt like cartoon physics.
She literally teleported across the stage in a burst of confetti and sparkles.
"HEYA! Nice to meet ya!" she said, her voice carrying that old-timey radio announcer quality, like someone from a 1950s game show. She was suddenly right in front of Ruho, extending a hand.
Ruho reached to shake it.
She teleported behind him and tapped his shoulder.
He spun around.
She was back where she'd started, hand still extended, grinning impossibly wide.
"Name's Showbiz! And I'm in the SHOW BIZ, baby!" She did a little spin, her tuxedo tails flaring out. "Get it? Show. Biz. It's a pun! I love puns! You know what they call a divine entity who tells jokes? A COMEDY GOD! Eh? EH?" She elbowed Ruho in the ribs even though she was five feet away—her arm just stretched like rubber to reach him.
"That's... that's not really—" Ruho started.
"What do you call it when a deity trips and falls? A DIVINE TUMBLE! AHAHAHA!" She slapped her knee, laughing at her own joke with the enthusiasm of someone who genuinely found themselves hilarious. "Oh, oh, I got another one! Why did the god cross the road? TO GET TO DIVINE! Get it? Other side? Other vine? COMEDY GOLD!"
"I don't think—"
"What's a deity's favorite type of music? SOUL! Because they process souls! GET IT?!" She was teleporting around him now, appearing in different spots with each joke, never giving him time to respond. "What do you call a god who's bad at their job? AN ODD GOD! Like my dad! He's the god of odds! IT'S WORDPLAY!"
Ruho tried to speak but Showbiz was already launching into another joke, teleporting to his left, then his right, then somehow above him even though that shouldn't be possible.
"Why don't gods play poker? Because they can SEE ALL THE CARDS! AHAHAHA! What's a divine being's favorite snack? ETERNAL CHIPS! They never go stale! What do you call it when two gods get married? A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN! Literally! Because they're in heaven! Or the divine realm! Close enough!"
Meanwhile, Tyrix's wife had sauntered over to her husband, her hips swaying in a way that probably violated several laws of motion. She ran a glowing hand down his absurdly muscular Macho Rix arm.
"Oh honey," she purred, her voice like honey mixed with silk and something that made Ruho's teenage hormones sit up and pay attention even though he was actively trying not to look. "That form really suits you. Those muscles..." Her hand traced the outline of his bicep. "So strong. So... powerful."
Tyrix's grin somehow got wider. "You like what you see, baby?"
"I LOVE what I see," she said, pressing against him in a way that was definitely not family-friendly.
And then they started making out.
Not a polite stage kiss. Not a quick peck. Full-on, aggressive, hands-everywhere making out that involved tongues and sounds that should not be broadcast to over a million viewers.
The crowd made various noises some cheering, some groaning, some covering their children's eyes even though everyone here was dead already.
"WOAH THERE, GUYS!" Showbiz suddenly appeared between them, physically shoving them apart with cartoon force that sent both of them stumbling backward. "Love the spit-swapping ritual you got going there, but this is a FAMMMMILY SHOW! We got KIDS watching! Well, dead kids, but still! KIDS!"
She waved her hands and both Tyrix and his wife went flying off to opposite sides of the stage, landing in chairs that appeared out of nowhere to catch them.
"Showbiz!" Tyrix protested, his voice muffled from wherever he'd landed. "I was having a MOMENT with my WIFE!"
"You can have moments OFF CAMERA, Dad!" Showbiz shot back. She turned to the audience, spreading her arms wide. "SORRY FOLKS! Parents, am I right? Always embarrassing you at work! Anyway, I'll be your host for the next few minutes while Dad cools off! Literally and figuratively!" she elbows the crowd.
She teleported to center stage, produced a microphone out of thin air, and struck a pose that was clearly mimicking her father's style but with her own chaotic energy.
"So!" She looked at Ruho, who was still processing the last sixty seconds of absolute insanity. "You're the guy who died jerking off, huh? That's ROUGH, buddy! Real rough! You know what they call someone who dies like that? A STROKE victim! Get it? STROKE? AHAHAHA!"
Ruho buried his face in his hands. "TThis is actually happening."
"Sure is!" Showbiz agreed cheerfully, completely missing his distress. "Now let's get back to the game! You've got THREE more briefcases to pick! Three more chances for GLORY or DOOM! Speaking of doom, you know what they call a pessimistic deity? A GLOOM GOD! AHAHAHA!"
She was already teleporting around the stage again, her energy seemingly limitless, her terrible jokes flowing like water from a broken dam.
And somewhere off-stage, Tyrix was presumably being restrained from making out with his wife on live divine television, while his daughter single-handedly destroyed any remaining dignity this game show might have had.
Ruho looked at the femboy, who was watching all of this with the same bewildered expression Ruho probably had. Their eyes met. The femboy gave a little shrug.
At least someone else understood his pain.