ic inbox

[determinedest]

You've reached Frisk. If I'm not answering my phone, please leave a message or find me on the second floor, Room 12.

( text | audio | video | or literally anything )

Comments

[Because Chara]

[fulllifeconsequences]

[Give them all to Sans, Frisk says.

Chara vanishes from the window yet again.

Returns with ALL THE BOTTLES in their arms.

They're gonna do it. They're gonna drop the ketchup nuke.]

[determinedest]

Chara...

[They draw their name out slowly, heavy with warning.]

Chara...no.

[fulllifeconsequences]

Chara yes.

[And they lean forward, ready to drop the payload, but... realization flashes in their eyes. Their smile fades in the face of divine inspiration. They stop, clearly and definitely moved by Frisk's warning, ready to Make Some Good Choices for once.

Ha ha, just kidding. They vanish from the window again, and serenity and peace reign for the... few minutes or so that it takes to sprint down to the ground floor and out the door, skidding to a halt with arms laden with bottles and a voice breathless with the Probably Not A Great Sign laughter.

They have. A better idea.]

We're gonna throw these at Sans' window.

[determinedest]

No, we're not.

[Frisk dashes forward to intercept like it's a game of ketchup-basketball, arms outstretched to either side.]

It's going to get everywhere and people might think it's something else, and then what happens when it starts molding? We're on the same floor!

[fulllifeconsequences]

[They're carrying Way Too Much Ketchup. Their inventory is overflowing. The bottles clink and jostle as they just from side to side, like it's just a bit of keep-away. It is probably only a matter of time until they drop one.]

It's too late! I've gone mad with power, Frisk! My diabolical ketchup plot cannot be stopped!

[determinedest]

You really want our room smelling like ketchup for weeks?

[The ground outside already smells a little bit too much like tomatoes and corn starch.]

The smell's gonna carry!

[fulllifeconsequences]

Frisk. Frisk, my child.

[A patient and parental and soothing tone. The voice of wisdom, of years and years of sage experience.]

Sometimes, in life. We have to make the hard decisions. We must make sacrifices for the greater good.

It'll be totally worth it.

[They announce, as they laugh gleefully and try to careen past Frisk on their Ketchup Spree.]

[determinedest]

This is not a sacrifice for the greater good!

[Frisk chases after them desperately even as a few ketchup bottles bounce out from Chara's arms and roll about on the ground. Frisk has to leap over them like they're back in Hotland, timing their complicated dance across the conveyor belts.]

[fulllifeconsequences]

Perhaps someday, I too will come to recognize that fact.

[This is like the world's worst game of Donkey Kong. Bottles are rolling haphazardly all over the place. Chara nearly slides out on a patch of spattered ketchup where one of the thrown bottles landed earlier, and even more clatter to the ground.

But they remain upright, pivot on one foot with the majesty and grace of a ballerina. Dance backwards, grab a bottle, tilt back their arm for a positively dazzling long bomb.]

But you know what they say. Heinzsight is 20/20.

[determinedest]

[Frisk might be the more agile of the two, but Chara was always more...direct.]

Sans is gonna get mad.

[They remember what happens when he gets mad, right?]

And he actually can prank us across time and space!

[fulllifeconsequences]

[They're not scared of Sans getting mad. Anger is effort and energy and motion. He'd probably just ignore his ketchupy window until it rained.

But pranking across time and space. That is a good point. That is a very real possibility. Chara stops mid-windup. Cants their head to one side thoughtfully. Beings to weigh the pros and cons very carefully. With poetic solemnity, they gaze at the window and recite.]

Ah. Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both...

[Shoot. Wait. They forget the next line.]

[determinedest]

[Are they quoting...poetry?

Okay, actually, maybe that's not so surprising. "I see two lovers staring over the edge of the cauldron of hell" and all that.

But Frisk remembers the most quoted line from this one, at least.]

...so take the one less traveled by? Which involves not throwing ketchup at Sans's window?

[fulllifeconsequences]

That's the one less traveled by? Is ketchup-hurling a popular pastime here and I'm just not aware of it?

[determinedest]

In your case, maybe it means not taking this opportunity to mess with Sans?

[Kind of some skewed reasoning there, Frisk.]

[fulllifeconsequences]

You... you're right, Frisk. He's done nothing to deserve more stress and hassle. Things have... things have really been hard on everyone, huh?

[And they smile, softly, a little hesitantly. They start to lower the bottle and...]

Nah, I'm just kidding, that logic sucks.

[False alarm, fucko! They wind up and chuck that sucker at the mansion.

It sails in a beautiful arc, and it

holy fuck IT SMASHES SANS' WINDOW

THE WINDOW GOES TO FUCKING PIECES

There's the distant sound of the bottle exploding against the floor. Or the wall. Or some furniture. Or Sans' 1-HP-ass face.

wh

whoops]

[determinedest]

[Frisk almost falls for it and almost relaxes but they see what's going to happen before it does even if they can do nothing to stop it but watch and clutch their face in both hands, horrified.

They stand there, paralyzed in shock for a solid minute.

A solid minute and a half.

Then, finally, Frisk finds their voice again.]

...Charaaaaaaaa

[fulllifeconsequences]

[Chara stares up into the broken-glass abyss. Then, slowly, elegantly, they bunch together the necks of the remaining ketchup bottles in one fist.

And they spike them on the ground and shriek.]

SCATTER.

[Then they neatly turn and SPRINT THE HELL OUT]

[determinedest]

[Frisk...Frisk just stands there in a state of mute shock, their shoes liberally coated in ketchup as Chara wisely bolts.

They are going to have to do so much explaining for this one.]