Beetlejuice plays Ma-gi-karp for a hot minute. The little Skitty is cute as shit and it's nice to have somebody actually like something he's doing. Negative attention is way easier to than positive so he's going to milk this for all it's worth.

At first.

He keeps playing. Miriam keeps pipipiing. It doesn't stop. The song becomes an earworm. An inward spiral to his most central core. It shoots it through with thin, white hot cracks.

Beetlejuice concedes the battle. He stops playing and rests his hand against the strings.

"Little livewire isn't she?"