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clevercatchphrase · 6 years ago

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You Monster Chpt. 32

You know what? I don’t really feel like cross posting my chapters to tumblr very much anymore since it’s such a hassle. The whole reason I did was to get more exposure, but I can’t really do that now with tumblr’s hatred of posts with links in them. I guess I will continue to post for the rest of this fic (since I only got, like, 5 chapters left), but I won’t link the chapters anymore since I would like for them to show up in the search, and from here on out any stories I write will be exclusively on AO3. Sorry to anyone who preferred reading my stories over here for what ever reason, but I just don’t want to deal with tumblr’s bs anymore :/

“Excellent work today, team! You were all beautiful, darlings!” Mettaton says, rolling into his trailer. “I’m going to take a quick one hour power nap to recharge! Everyone take a break yourselves! You’ve earned it! Please do not disturb me while I’m in sleep mode darlings!”

Once behind closed doors, the robot wastes no time getting ready to recharge. He opens a port and pulls out a USB on a long chord, attaches it to an adaptor and plugs into an outlet. Once situated, he retracts his arms and wheel and settles in his docking station.

As a robot, he had sleep mode, but didn’t exactly dream. Shutting down more or less was a lapse in consciousness--an instantaneous jump between being awake from one moment to the next without that pesky drowsiness or grogginess that organic beings had to suffer with. A highly preferable option in his opinion. Why waste time living out your dreams unconscious, when you could dream while being awake and make them come true while you were at it?

‘System updating. Please do not unplug your device or force shut down.’ Computer code says in the ones and zeroes on the inner side of his monitor screens. ‘Installing 1 out of 3105 updates…’

“Oh, for the love of…” Mettaton whispers. By the time the new updates finished installing his hour power nap would be over. Well, maybe sleep mode wouldn’t be as instantaneous as he thought…

There was a knock at the door. Normally Mettaton would have turned the intruder away for blatantly bothering him when he had made his demands clear not to, but since he was feeling generous (and since he knew he wouldn’t be getting any good rest for at least forty more minutes) he decides to let it pass just this once.

“Yes darling?” the robot says answering the door.

The monster that stands before him is stork like, yellow with legs as thin as twigs and skinny feathery arms. On its back was a huge postal bag overflowing with letters. “Special delivery for Mettaton!” the monster says, hefting the huge mail sack over its shoulders as it tries to keep its knees from buckling under the weight.

The robot’s speakers squeal with delight. “Fan mail? For me? Hand it over!”

Snatching the bag of mail away from the carrier and slaming the door in their face, Mettaton wheels back into his docking station, pulls out the first letter, tears it open and begins to read.

“Dear Mettaton; I love your shows!” it begins. “I am a HUGE fan of the boss monster kid who keeps showing up on your newest programs.” Ha ha, well of cour- what. “Please tell me you plan to keep them around! Your shows haven’t been this interesting since the controversial robot zombie survival show of yours!”

They like his shows... For the human? But… But he was supposed to be the main attraction! Well! No matter! That was just one letter! Tossing it aside, Mettaton reaches back in the bag and grabs another;

“Dear Mettaton, I love your new boss monster cohost!”

COHOST?! Why the insult! Mettaton, the number one star of the Underground would never share the spotlight with some… some underling! Dropping the letter on the floor, he pulls out another, and another after that, but all the fan mail says the same dreadful thing; ”The boss monster kid is adorable!” “Can you give this letter to them to let them know how much I love them?” “It’s nice to see you mix it up and bring in some fresh talent. The old programs were beginning to get stale.”

Oh, of all the insolent! Mettaton was always top billing! He wasn’t going to let some child take away HIS adoring fans! The brilliant red giant wasn’t about to be upstaged by some little white dwarf! By some… some human!

“No… no! This will not stand!” Mettaton mutters angrily to himself. Worked into a tizzy, he paces his room, rolling over all the discarded letters and leaving tracks in the rug. “I have to do something about this. I have to!” Rolling over to the phone, Mettaton picks up the receiver and hits the speed dial. “Hello, yes! There has been a change of plans! I need you to do an overhaul for the final showdown. I’ve made a last minute executive decision, and we’re going to end this finale a bit differently than anticipated. It’s time to break out the big guns…”

The massive hotel dawns on the horizon long before the royal scientist and boss monster child reach it.

“What’s that?” the human asks Alphys when the multistory sky scraper comes into view.

“OH, that? That’s the MTT-resort.” Alphys explains. “I-it use to be an apartment complex years back before Mettaton’s rise to fame, and…. W-well, anyway, there’s a couple elevators in there th-that should t-take us straight up to New Home.”

New Home. Just saying the two words sends a sharp pang in Alphys’ chest. Only now was the actual gravity of her situation starting to sink in, acutely reminding her what she’s doing to this child who relied on her, trusted her now. They’re both only one elevator ride away from the end, and yet here she is, passively letting it happen, not even attempting to dissuade her new friend from their inevitable fate.

But… but she’s doing no more than what she’s promised, hasn’t she? She agreed to help them get to New Home and nothing more, right? And delivering them straight to Asgore was what they wanted, yes? S-so, by that logic, trying to stall them, to keep them from the king would be hindering them, which was the opposite of helping, correct?

But… but does knowing they would be hurt and allowing it to happen considered helpful? If… if she continued to just let them go, fully aware of the consequences…

Alphys shakes her head in frustration. Slowing them down would hurt them and possibly ruin their trust in her… but letting them go would also hurt them in a way far worse. She didn’t want either but felt she had come too far to turn back now… but she would also never forgive herself if she didn’t at least try to deter them before their inescapable end. Now if only she could think of something clever enough to buy them some extra time.

The child gasps in awe when they breach the rise and they can truly take in the resort’s immense size. The building is built directly into the volcano’s wall; a stark contrast of a smooth perfectly geometric shape against the rough uneven mountainside, like someone had shoved a toy model into a mound of dirt. The hill they had climbed had only made it look closer than it was, but now at the top of the arc, the pathway winds back down before stopping off at a large flight of stairs.

The rest of the way is clear. With no more road blocks in sight, the kid can’t help but quicken their step. Alphys hastily speeds up her pace to keep up, keeping an eye out for any distraction to help chew up time and delay the worst. There’s a pair of monsters loitering outside the building. One is tall and green with a distinct reptilian form about her, while the other is short and round and purple with prominent cat features. They chat idly to one another, giggling in unison over some inside joke only they know, when the cat monster glances your way, does a double take, then frantically waves at the traveling pair.

“Bratty! Bratty look! They’re like, totally here! I told you they would come this way!” The cat monster says.

“Like, you’re totally right, Catty,” Bratty giggles, before casually joining Catty in waving the pair to come closer. “Heeey Alphys! Like, long time no see!”

“Oh my,” Alphys hesitates, her social awkwardness telling her to fight or flee. She blinks her panic aside and considers. This could be just the diversion she was looking for.

“Oh, do you know those guys?” the human asks.

“Y-yeah. B-Bratty and C-Catty. Th-they use to be my old neighbors.” Alphys states, trotting closer to them, and waving at the child to follow. “Uh, H-hey girls! H-how have you been?”

“Oh, same old, same old,” Catty giggles. “The economy still, like, totally sucks, and the Hotland populous vastly out numbers the amount of available jobs, so finding employment is, like, near impossible.”

“Pursuing higher education is now more of a risk than a necessity,” Bratty adds. “With no guarantee of job placement after graduation, you’re more likely to wind up in more debt than you would have just trying to apply without a degree.”

Alphys gives a little gasp. “Does that mean you two dropped out? Oh I’m so sorry to hear that guys.”

The caiman and cat monsters exchange a look and bust out laughing.

“L-O-L, Alphys!” Catty snorts. “You are, like, so hilarious!”

“W-what?”

“Yeah, girl,” Bratty explains. “You can’t, like, drop out of something you never joined.”

“Bratty and I skipped the whole school thing and just, like, started our own business!”

“R-really? That’s… great?” Alphys congratulates them with a bit of uncertainty.

“Yeah, it’s, like, greater than great,” Bratty says.

“It’s literally the BEST!” Catty adds.

“We’re like, actually doing pretty well for ourselves and we can actually afford rent for the MTT hotel!”

“Like, thank god for the free market economy or making a living here would be impossible unless you know someone already on the corporate ladder.”

“You don’t say!” Alphys smiles, genuinely happy for them. Crossing her arms, she settles back while the human reluctantly joins her at her side, doing their best to hide their impatience at the sudden detour. “What’s your secret?”

“Oh my god, Alphys!” Catty chuckles. “We can’t just, like, give away our business model!”

“Yeah, girl. We gotta, like, keep that trade secret close to the vest.” Bratty adds.

“Oh, I understand,” Alphys says. Bratty and Catty trade looks, their grins growing wider and threatening to burst.

“We just take all the junk we find in Waterfall and sell it!” Catty exclaims.

“We make a one hundred percent profit on everything we sell,” Bratty chuckles. “Mostly because we didn’t have to pay a single cent to get this stuff in the first place.”

“Yeah! And since, like, all the food and stuff is totally wicked expensive inside the resort, people constantly come to us for snacks instead!”

“It’s, like, the perfect set up.”

“It’s LITERAL junk food!”

Beside her, the child clears their throat and inconspicuously tries to signal for her to move on with a pleading smile. Not wanting to get on their bad side, Alphys caves at once. They’re both so close to their end goal, she can’t refuse them now.

“Well! I’m proud of you two!” Alphys says, politely trying to leave the conversation. “It looks like you’re both doing pretty well for yourselves. See you around!”

“Woah, woah, woah, Alphys! You can’t leave just yet!” Bratty says, sticking out an arm to cut off your retreat.

“Yeah, like, where are our manners!” Catty says. “We were, like, totally camping out here waiting for you to show up!”

“Y-you were?” Alphys asks nervously. “Why?”

“Because we haven’t heard from you in forever, girl! And suddenly you’re all over TV with Mettaton and this adorable little one.” Batty coos, bending down to pinch the human’s cheek. Reluctantly, they let her, not wanting to be rude.

“So, Alphys, are you gonna introduce your new friend to us?” Catty says.

“Oh, uh, um.” The royal scientist turns to them. “Bratty, Catty, th-this is-”

“I’m Chara,” The human cuts with practiced politeness to speed things along. They offer a hand to shake.

“Heeey there, you little cutie!” Bratty says, ignoring the hand completely and kneeling down on their level to ruffle their hair. “You were so great on TV! You’re like, the Underground’s newest superstar!”

“Oh! Oh! Tell us! What’s it like working with Mettaton? What’s he smell like? Is it true his glove hands are as soft as angora?” Catty asks, her eyes lighting up like stars.

Alphys can see them debate letting these girls know their true feelings on Mettaton, and how they thought he was a time waster and an annoyance above anything else, but even they couldn’t find it in their heart to crush the vision of their idol in their heads.

“He certainly is…. A hindrance,” the child says at last.

“Oh, yeah, totally.” Catty agrees. “His game shows are known to be, like, wicked tough with all the physical challenges.”

“So tell us all the details, girl!” Bratty demands, straightening back up to look at Alphys.

“Yeah! What’s it like working with Mettaton? Does he give you any discounts on his merch, since you, like, created him?” Catty asks, crowding closer.

“Do you think you can get us an Autograph from him?”

“Do you think you can get him to sign my face?”

“Do you think you can get us tickets to his next show?”

“I-it’s really not that glamorous,” Alphys shrugs, trying to put some space between her and the inquisitive monsters. Mettaton and I hardly hang out, s-since I’m always so busy working for the king. Soul research a-and what not.” She does her best not to look at the human, but thankfully they don’t seem to notice.

“Oooooh!” Bratty and Catty sing in unison.

“No wonder we haven’t seen you around!”

“Spending all your time with Asgore, I see!”

“How’ve you been working with the king?”

“Have you two gotten any closer?”

“W-w-what? N-n-no, it’s nothing like that!” Alphys says defensively. “H-h-he’s my boss!”

“Um, am I missing something here?” The human asks.

“Alphys here has the BIGGEST crush on King Asgore!” Catty says. “She used to tell us how she was going to date him when we were younger!”

“But, like, who can blame her?” Bratty says. “The king’s a total hottie.”

“A big, fuzzy, bara hottie!” Cattie adds.

“Alphys always wanted to work close to the king, so she like, totally made Mettaton to impress him-“

“And it totally worked. Now she gets to see lord fuzzy buns whenever she wants!”

“GAH! Will you guys stop?!” Alphys shouts, her scales turning a lovely shade of Embarrassment Pink. “A-a-after working with Asgore closely for the past few years, I was able to learn more about him and re-evaluate my feelings towards him!” she exclaims. “A-Asgore is a great guy, but he’s also my boss, and since I started working for him I realized my feelings towards him were only based on infatuation. I’ve since learned that he’s a great friend and coworker but not someone I’d want to be in a romantic relationship with. Besides, he’s not my type.”

“Is that so?” Bratty asks, teasing. “Well then what IS your type now, Alphys?”

“Th-that’s none of your concern!” Alphys says blushing.

“Wait, are you no longer into muscular guys?” Catty asks.

“Like, get real, Catty. Everyone knows that’s old news. Alphys is, like, totally into buff fish chicks now.”

“W-w-what? Who told you that?!” Alphys demands, her face growing from pink to bright red.

“From RG 02. He was here yesterday.”

“Impossible! That guard never reveals his secrets!”

“Aww, please don’t be mad, Alphys,” Bratty says apologetically. “You know we’re just messing with you. But if you got a crush on someone, you gotta tell them before life slips you by.”

“Yeah! That’s why I tell Bratty I love her every day!” Catty cheers.

“Aw, I love you too, girlfriend,” Bratty blushes.

“Th-that may be easy for you to do, but it would be pretty pointless for me,” Alphys murmurs. “Undyne’s great and all, but I know for a fact I’m not the kind of person she’s looking for either. Undyne probably wants someone who can keep up with her. You know, someone who can run twenty miles in two minutes or bench press ten times her own weight like she can.”

“But don’t you two, like, always have movie nights together?” Bratty asks.

“Y-yeah but that’s different! We have a common interest in anime, but not much else.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Alphys can see the human studying her strangely. They’re no longer hopping from foot to foot, anxiously waiting for her to wrap it up so they can keep going forward. Instead they’re looking at her quizzically, as if trying to decipher a riddle. They graciously don’t say anything, but now it’s Alphys’ who feels the desperate need to move on away from these two.

“W-well, we should really be on our way,” Alphys says, trying to side step the caiman and cat monsters. “It was n-nice catching up with you! You two take care!”

“Same to you, Alphys!” Catty says, waving farewell.

“And if you need any snacks you know where to find us!”

Alphys gently pushes the child along until they’re close enough that the hotel’s automatic doors let them both in. The royal scientist blinks several times as her eyes adjust to the blinding fluorescents that reflected off of nearly every surface in the foyer. The interior of the MTT hotel is bright with brilliant golds and dazzling amber fixtures and gilded trim, and everything her eyes laid on sparkled. Ugh, this place always gave her a headache.

Gentle xylophone and acoustic music floats on the air. The lobby is filled with lively chatter and in the center of the room is a giant fountain with a statue of Mettaton, gracefully spewing an arc of water. Perhaps the spray is a little too strong, or maybe the centerpiece is off balanced, but either way the arc of water is making a giant puddle on the floor. A dozen yellow wet floor signs mark the perimeter of the puddle, warning civilians of the slipping hazard. The smell of hot cooked food wafts from a café near the back.

“Oh man, look at the line for the elevator,” Alphys says in fake regret, pointing to the right at queue that snaked halfway around the hall. “Ah, figures. It’s rush hour right now. Everyone is leaving work from New Home and heading to the other regions and vice versa. We could be here a while.”

“So what do we do?” The child asks her.

“W-well, nothing to do but get in line and wait our turn.” The royal scientist shrugs. “It would be rude to cut to the front, wouldn’t it?”

The human reluctantly nods and joins her at the end of the line. They sigh in mild annoyance at this new hurdle, while Alphys secretly sighs in relief. This was perfect. The line could take hours to go down, and maybe by the time they reached the front it would be too late to visit the king, granting her at least one more day to figure out how to keep them from getting to New Home all together.

Maybe she could convince them to come back to her lab with her? No, this was a hotel, they’d probably just want to stay here. Perhaps she could get Mettaton to intervene again somehow? Unlikely. That robot was far too self-obsessed to help anyone unless it directly benefited him in the process. What if she went ahead of them and talked to Asgore first? Possibly… But what if things went wrong, and he decided to come out and look for them?

Minutes tick by and the line slowly inches its way forward, but they don’t move very far when Alphys hears a stomach rumble.

“W-was that you?” the yellow lizard asks, casting a glance back at her companion.

The human blushes. “Y-yeah, guess it’s close to dinner time, and those smells from the restaurant certainly aren’t helping.”

“Do… do you want to go get something to eat? It’ll b-be a while before we get to New Home.” Alphys asks, jerking her thumb towards the little burger shop. The human opens their mouth to argue, but the royal scientist interrupts, already knowing what they were going to say. “D-don’t worry about losing your place in line. I’ll st-stay here and hold it for you.”

The child hesitates for a moment, before flashing her a grateful smile, and darting off towards the burger emporium. Once out they’re out of her sight, Alphys lets out a quiet moan.

Oh, what was she to do?

You take up Alphys’ advice and head into the tiny restaurant. Inside there are a couple of plastic booths with a few patrons. The air smells like grease and salt, and behind the register is an orange… cat… hamster… bear monster. His smile is wide but his eyes look dead. You approach the counter cautiously.

“Welcome to the MTT-brand burger emporium, home of the glamburger. We’ve proudly sold over a hundred thousand burgers across the Underground! What can I do for you, o’ customer?”

You blink hard at the little speech. Although there is clearly pitch and timbre in his tone, the words sound rehearsed and lifeless, as if it was a recording that had been replayed on a loop too many times to count. His vacant stare and stressed expression concerns you more than your quest for food.

“Are… are you okay?” you ask him gently.

“I’m sorry, (ha ha) it’s against company policy for me to talk to customers who haven’t bought anything.” The cashier tells you.

Your eyes scan the menu items. Everything is exorbitantly priced. Scooping out your money from your pocket, you count your change. Two fifty pieces and two ten pieces. Just enough for one burger off the menu.

“I’ll take one glamburger please.”

You place all the money you have on the counter. The cashier swipes it away and hands you a small cardboard box festooned with purple plastic rhinestones. You take the box and hold it close to your chest, and look at the cashier again.

“Thanksy! Eight gold pieces is your change! Here you are! ” He says with false, but practiced enthusiasm. “Have a FABU-FUL day!”

“You can keep it,” you tell him. There wasn’t much, if anything, that you could get in the ruins for only eight gold. You push the change back over to the cashier. He looks at it wide eyes, and then to you.

“This is for me?” he says dreamily. “A… a tip?”

“Yeah. I don’t think I’ll need it anymore.”

The employee gently cradles the coins in his paws; still staring at it, disbelieving it was real. Suddenly his whole being begins to shake.

“Hey, are you alright?” you ask.

“No one’s ever given me a tip before… This is… this is the nicest thing anybody’s done for me all year!” He says. Looking up, you see his eyes are glossy with tears and his nose is running.

You look around the room. There’s no one else in line, so you dare to strike up a conversation.

“Seriously, are you okay?” you ask him again. This time the cashier blinks at you, and a spark of panic and confusion ignites behind his eyes when he realizes you’re still there.

“What? Why do you keep trying to talk to me?” he says in a harsh whisper behind clenched teeth, desperate to maintain his smile. His whole body begins to simultaneously shiver and sweat. “Why are you being so nice? I’ll get in trouble if I get chummy with the customers! I’ll probably get in trouble just for accepting this tip! Mettaton will fire me! Is that your aim? Is that your goal? Is that what you want?!”

“I’m sorry. You just… look a little stressed out.”

“A little?” The cashier repeats sardonically. “Little buddy, this place is anxiety incarnate, and all those unlucky enough to get a job here are destined to spend the rest of their natural born lives attending to a grease trap and having patrons yelling in their face, demanding I make changes to our business practices that are out of my control, and blaming ME as the problem and not the corporate tycoons! So I think it’s fair to say, I am more than just a little stressed out here!”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again because you’re not sure what else to do. “I just… I wish I could do something to help.”

“There is something you can do, little buddy,” the cat monster says. “Run. Run away before they get you too. You don’t want to end up like me. Just look at me; I’m getting on in years. Nineteen good ones behind me. Wasted! I don’t know how much time I got left, but I just know the heads up top are already hunting for a replacement for me when I inevitably bite the dust.”

“I’m sorry, uh,” On the right pocket of his shirt, a name tag sticker reading ‘Hello! My name is:’ proudly adorns his right breast. The original name seems to have been crossed out with sharpie, and has been replaced with the title “Burgerpants” in thick black letters instead.

“Sorry… Burgerpants?” you say. “That’s a… unique name.”

“Don’t patronize me, kid,” Burgerpants says hollowly. He slumps over, depressed. “You and I both know that no loving parent would ever name their child something so degrading. Burgerpants is just a cruel nickname I’ve been blessed with.”

“Wow, that’s mean. How’d you get a nickname like that?”

“Well,” Burgerpants chuckles, straightening up. His whiplashing mood swings are starting to make your head spin. He smiles, pulling out a cigarette and lighter, and takes a long drag. “That’s actually a pretty good story with a good lesson at the end, but it’s kind of long. You don’t want to hear it.”

You turn around and spy Alphys through the café windows, still waiting in the line for the elevator. “I’ve got time to kill,” you tell Burgerpants.

“In that case little buddy, I’ve got a bit of life advise for you…”

You chat with Burgerpants on a myriad of topics, from never dating attractive people, to his aspirations on being a method actor, even to Mettaton’s business practices.

“It’s strange,” you tell Burgerpants. “I’ve had a couple of run-ins with Mettaton now, and he never struck me as the kind of guy to run a fast food restaurant.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been a minimum wage slave to him for months, and let me tell you, that robot will try his hand at anything to spread his image as far as he can. But! The good news is, little buddy, we just need to get one more human soul then I’ll be free from this actual cage of brimstone and hellfire. The only way to go is up! Literally!”

You chat a bit more, relieved to see the tension and stress slowly melt away from Burgerpants’ face, and only when you see an actual, genuine smile on his mouth do you consider your work done and decide to take your leave.

“Bye, Burgerpants! Take care!” you wave heading out the door.

“Take care, little buddy,” Burgerpants grins after you, taking another drag. “Come back anytime.”

Once you’re a good deal away from the little burger shop, you open the box to find a sandwich with a neon purple bun and vibrant purple patty. The whole thing sparkles like a geode from waterfall. Well. It certainly is pretty, you’ll say that. You dare to take a test bite, and force yourself to resist the urge to gag.

You have no idea what hamburgers are made of, but you are certain they’re not made out of plastic and paste. The patty is cold and bitter, with a thick consistency of congealed glue. You spit, spewing glitter, though half of it stays firmly coated on your tongue.

Sneering in disgust, you toss the burger in the trash, magically not hungry anymore, and return to Alphys' side. As far as you can tell, the line has moved a whole three inches since you left it.

“Oh! Y-you’re back!” Alphys perks up nervously upon your return.

“Did the line stop moving?” You ask in concern. “It hardly looks like you’ve moved at all.”

“W-w-well, that’s because I’ve got some terrible news,” Alphys says, her forehead running with sweat. “While y-you were gone an employee came by to say that the elevators have t-temporarily gone down for some unknown reason a-and they say it could take hours to fix.”

“Can you fix it?” You ask hopefully. “We’ve fixed the other elevators in Hotland.”

“I w-wish,” Alphys shakes her head. “B-but these elevators run on a different operating system out of my jurisdiction. I c-can’t interfere.”

“Well, there has to be another way, right?” You plead in desperation. You are so close to getting home, you can’t give up now, you flat out refuse to give up now. “A dumbwaiter? An emergency stair case? I’ll even climb a ladder if there is one!”

“I… I d-don’t…”

You gently take Alphys’ claws in your hands and look into her eyes. “Alphys, please tell me there’s another way. I’m so close to the king. I can’t turn back now.”

Alphys winces, but sighs in defeat.

“There is… one other elevator,” she admits. “I-it’s in the core and off limits to everyone except royal personnel, b-but I can get you to it…”

Hugging her tight, you whisper in her ear. “You’re a life saver, Alphys.”

Alphys flinches, but steps out of line and guides you to a non-descript door against one of the back walls. Thick red letters read “AUTHORISED MONSTERS ONLY” on smoky glass.

Alphys pulls out an identification card and swipes it through a reader on the side of the door. There’s a single beep! and a red light turns green. The handle clicks as it unlocks, Alphys opens the door, and you’re greeted with a vacant corridor and a strange, chilling breeze. Warm light from the hotel lobby spills in from behind, mixing with the cold blue light that waits for you up ahead.

“W-well. Nothing left but for us to tackle the Core now, huh?” Alphys says with a smile, though her voice sounds unenthusiastic.

You march forward, unafraid. Alphys dutifully follows you.

The hallway leads up to a single elevator that seems to be waiting for you, its door already open and beckoning you inside. The second you and the royal scientist board the lift the doors close behind you, trapping you in darkness. There’s a quick feeling of vertigo as the elevator starts to move on its own, and you feel yourself moving horizontally instead of vertically. The trip is so smooth, you can’t tell how fast you’re going, or even what direction after a while, but before the blackness that surrounds you begins to feel oppressive, the elevator comes to an air-cushioned stop and the doors part. The air around you smells so thick with ozone, that you can taste it on your tongue, and it crackles across your skin, making your arms tingle and hair stand on edge. The room smells sharp, like electricity.

All your senses are on high alert; all your nerves feel tense with energy. You shudder.

“You okay?” Alphys asks.

“Sorry. This room. It makes me feel… full of energy, but also on edge. Like something bad is about to happen.”

“Ah, th-that could be the effect of stray residual magic,” Alphys explains. “We’re right above the epicenter of the Core. Almost all of the m-magical energy the Underground uses is being processed right now beneath our feet. Th-this way. The last elevator to the capital is just through here…”

You follow Alphys through two imposing metal doors into a vacant room with a platform suspended over a pit in the middle. It’s uncomfortably dark in here, even more so than the elevator, and when you peer over the edge, you can’t see the bottom. You make your way forward, and only place one foot on the platform when you hear the doors slam behind you.

“W-what?” Alphys jumps, spinning around. “Why did that happen?”

There’s a loud ka-thunk, ka-thunk, ka-thunk! as six spot lights illuminate the platform, with one every familiar looking rectangle sitting in the middle.

“Well, well, well, darlings. I see you’ve finally made it to the Core.”

“M-M-Mettaton?!” Alphys stammers. “What’s the meaning of this!?”

“Yeah! I thought you said our previous encounter would be the last!” you add, that extra adrenaline in your veins making you itching to move.

“It was supposed to be, darling,” Mettaton explains. “But then the reviews come in and you know what they said?”

“They still didn’t do well?”

“On the contrary! They’re through the roof! They’re higher than they’ve ever been in my entire career!”

“But… but that’s a good thing?” Alphys points out. “If your shows are doing so well, why are you still trying to get in our way?”

“Yeah! You should be thanking us for improving your ratings! What’s your problem?” You shout.

“You’re right, darling. You are the one to thank. But!” Mettaton stretches up on his wheel, and extends one arm upward, his pointer finger high. With no words, he lets his arm fall forward in a half arc, until he’s pointing it right at you. “You’re also the problem.”

“That doesn’t make any sense! I participated in all your dumb shows! Against my will, even! Why are you blaming me?”

“It’s true! My shows are more popular than ever because of you! And when I asked my focus groups what their favorite parts were, the reports came back that YOU’RE popularity has far surpassed mine. (And that’s why you are to blame! No one’s popularity will out shine my own. I will be second rate to no one, and that is why I must now eliminate you!”

“D-d-don’t worry, we’ve beat him thrice before, can beat him one more time!” Alphys said, squaring up.

“Ah! Ah! Darling!” Mettaton says and snaps his fingers. “I’ve realized why all my other attempts at stopping you failed, and it’s because you had Alphys here to help you escape! But not anymore!” Without warning, lasers of blue magic shoot up from the floor around Alphys, trapping her in an inescapable cage. “Two against one isn’t’ fair! Besides, you’re not the one trying to out shine me!”

“Alphys!” you shout, and jump towards her cell.

“N-no! Don’t! I-if you touch the lasers, you’ll get zapped!” Alphys warns. “I’m fine! D-don’t worry about me! I won’t get hurt if I just stay still. B-but you’re gonna have to beat him on your own!”

“Well, darling! Looks like it’s time for your last curtain call! Prepare to be cancelled!” Mettaton raises his arms. His hands retract into his sleeves, and get replaced by circular saws that whine at a shrill, threatening pitch.

Without hesitation, the robot lunges forward towards you, and you barely have the reflexes to jump back in time. The spinning blades hit the ground with a shower of sparks as they slice two deep gouges into the floor. Oh god, this wasn’t some campy hoax for a tv show anymore, he really was trying to kill you this time!

“Mettaton! What are you doing?!” Alphys screams also recognizing the spike in the danger.

“There’s only room for one of us on the top of the chart, darling! Ta-ta!”

“A-Alphys! What do I do?” You desperately beg her, evading Mettaton for dear life.

“Uh! Uuuh!” Alphys panics, chewing her claws down to the beds. She suddenly straightens as if struck with an idea.“H-hey! Get behind him!” Alphys commands as you narrowly avoid another razor blade to the head. “There’s a switch on his back side! Get to it and flip it!”

Whirling blade in one hand, flame thrower for the other, you can’t afford to stay in once place for long. The flamethrower’s range forces you to keep moving while the circle saw doesn’t allow you to get close. Mettaton keeps their front to you at all times, giving you no opening to sneak around to his back side.

Taking a risk, you dash towards Alphys’ laser prison, the whirling blades hot on your heels. At the last moment, you feint to the left and run behind it, while Mettaton’s arm hits the cage at full force.

Detecting movement, the lasers react instantaneously, sending a paralyzing zap up the robot’s body, making him short circuit. You waste no time getting behind him where you find the alleged switch and forcefully slam it down.

For a moment, Mettaton freezes, then his screens go dark and his limbs flop to the ground as if they were made of limp pasta.

“Man, thank god that’s over,” you pant. “Now let’s see if we can get you out of that cage.”

“N-no! Don’t turn your back on him!” Alphys warns. “This isn’t over yet!”

“What do you mean? I turned him off, didn’t I?”

“Um, technically, no you didn’t.” Alphys says.

“Oh, foolish child,” A ghostly voice echoes in the still husk of the robot. “Do you think I could be defeated so easily?”

Terror creeping up your spine, you slowly turn back around and watch in petrified horror as Mettaton’s body rises up and begins to shake. His rivets rattle, steam hisses as it escapes between his plates, his screens flash white and red, and suddenly he’s transforming, his metal plates bending and folding back into itself like origami. His screens flip over as his top half widens and his wheel contracts only to be replaced with legs. His casing straightens, and on his black screen you see lines of white code scrolling past and you get the sinking feeling that the switch you just flipped is now executing a code you wish you hadn’t . The top of his chassis opens and from it sprouts a head. His arms brace himself on the floor, and then, with jerky movements, he stands up.

“That was just a warm up,” The newly transformed automaton says, tossing his head back and fixing you with a cold, robotic eye. “Now that you’ve flipped my switch, the real showdown will begin!”

“Alphys, what’s going on? I thought you said that switch turned him off!” the human hisses in her ear.

“I-In my defense, I never claimed it would do that!” Alphys says. “B-but this form of his is still a prototype! It’s a lot weaker than his other one, so you might have a chance at beating him!”

All around them, the air begins to thrum with a deep pulsing beat as if the bass had been amplified to the max, hijacking their heart and setting the tempo of their pulse. Spotlights flash in time with the beat, yellow, blue and green.

A fog machine sets the ambiance, carpeting the stage with a dramatic layer of mist. Over the sound of the music, Alphys hears an excited murmur of many voices, and as more spot lights come to life, it’s then she notices the grandstands bordering the arena, packed to the brim with spectators.

Cameramen sit on all corners of the stage to get every angle of the action, and the human cranes their head up and spot a giant flat screen broadcasting every one of their movements, a hundred times bigger than life for the audience to see.

“This is it, darling!” Mettaton says, running one hand through his newly formed synthetic hair and striking a dramatic pose. “The ultimate show to once and for all decide who deserves the title of the Underground’s top superstar!”

“I- I don’t want to fight for the title! You can just have it!” The human declares, though their voice shaky and uncertain.

“Fight? Heaven forbid!” Mettaton says. “That’s no way to settle an argument! We’re going to duke this out my way! With a charity dance off!”

“Charity… dance off?”

“Yes! A charity is for the promotion of underprivileged robots! Right now we are being broadcasted live across the Underground! Thousands are tuning in and are making pledges to the dancer they think is better! The first one to reach the goal of one hundred thousand gold in donations will be declared the victor! And the other shall be shunned from the lime light indefinitely! There’s only one rule in this competition!”

“What?” The human dares to ask.

“Dance… or DIE!”

“Y-you can do it!” Alphys urges. “I believe in you! Plus, you don’t really h-have any other choice!”

“I-I can’t!” The human argues. “I don’t know how to dance!”

“Th-that doesn’t matter! Mettaton’s not as energy efficient in this form! If you can just hold out long enough, his batteries will wear down enough for you to escape!”

“But what do I do?”

“A-anything! Copy him, do a twirl, strike a pose! J-just fake it long enough until he shuts down!”

The human looks unsure, but they nod, trusting her, then step up to the plate.

“Excellent, darling!” Mettaton says when he sees them ready to face him. As if on cue, the music begins to pick up in a snappish beat, reverberating in their bones. “Let the dance off begin!”

Confetti cannons explode to emphasize his point. Spotlights dance and the crowds roar.

Mettaton approaches the human, marching to the beat of the music. Behind him a screen lowers from the ceiling, and illuminates a bar graph with two columns. Under one is Mettaton’s face and under the other, the human’s in a cartoonishly drawn caricature. A line marking the 100k goal lights up near the top. He stops a ways off, tosses back his hair and blows a kiss to the camera.

The crowds roar and Mettaton’s bar stretches up just a bit.

The human’s head turns towards one of the giant TV screens zoomed in on Mettaton’s face, before the camera switches to them and they find they’re looking at their own clueless expression enhanced for the viewers.

Straightening up, the human does their best to copy the pose, but they lack the grace and confidence Mettaton has, and the attempt looks clumsy. Weak claps of encouragement are drawn from the stands. Their donation bar raises only one line of pixels out of pity donations.

Smirking in satisfaction, Mettaton does a sophisticated two step, bringing his arms into the mix. The human is desperately trying to keep up, when out of nowhere, the robot does a swinging high kick and nails them in the back, sending the kid flying across the stage where they land in a crumpled heap. His donation bar jumps to the 2k goal.

“Ow! I though you said f-fighting was beneath you!” the kid protests.

“Fighting? This isn’t fighting darling! It is the art of the dance, sweetheart! Keep pace or perish!”

Mettaton lunges at them, pointy boot aimed for their center. Abandoning all attempts at dancing, the kid springs forward like a frog to dodge out of the way. They turn their momentum into a summersault and skid into a freestyle stop.

The crowd goes wild at the maneuver, and their donation bar jumps to a thousand gold.

“Hey! They liked that!” Alphys shouts from the side lines. “K-keep doing more moves like that!”

The human nods once, short and sharp, and pushes themselves to their feet.

Sneering, Mettaton twirls toward them like a ballerina, and tries to strike them with a coordinated hand and foot.

The human responds with a chasse, casually sliding out of the way as the robot spins past.

The crowd gasps at such beautiful timing, and such expert evasion. Both donation bars rise, but they’re now neck and neck.

The human finishes their move by adding insult to injury by bowing as Mettaton misses.

The robot eyes the scoreboard with contempt, before forcing a murderous smile at their dance partner.

“Oh, finally figured out how this works? Very well, darling! Let’s see you dance past this!”

The robot busts out into flamenco, chasing the kid around the stage and trying to stomp on them like a bug. The human responds with an evasive tango, snapping their fingers for good measure when they strike a pose.

The crowd screams at the show, and the human’s donation bar pulls into the lead. Mettaton’s jaw dropped in disbelief. No… No! The little show stopper couldn’t best him! He had to be number one!

If Mettaton was holding back before, he certainly pulled out all the stops now, but the human was quick and light on their feet, and the longer they dance, the better the kid gets at predicting his moves and patterns, making it harder for him to hit them. And once they can comfortably evade him with ease, they start to break out every dance move they know. They did the bunny hop crossed with the Macarena and a square dance all at once. The audience howls and claps with laughter. Mettaton fumes when he sees them clutching their bellies and wiping away tears. Phone lines can be heard ringing off the hook as callers flood the lines with their incoming donations and pledges, and bets on the winner, twenty to one with the little scene stealer in favor.

Pushing on, Mettaton pushes all his circuits to the limit, dishing out as much fancy foot work as he can to every camera all at once, but the tiny show stopper just cartwheels around him, well out of his reach. Well then! If he couldn’t trip them up with his dance moves, then he could trip them up with words!

“Darling, allow me to let you in on a little secret!” He shouts over the booming music. “You remember all our encounters up until now? They were all STAGED! A collaboration between Dr. Alphys and I!”

The little show stealer shoots him a sarcastic look that says they think he’s lying through their teeth. And why should they believe him? As far as they’re aware, Alphys had been helping them this entire time.

“Why you may ask?” Mettaton filled in for them when he sees their unmoved glare. “Good question! Alphys was honest for the most part- I admit wanted to steal your face to pull in the views, but do you know why she went along with it? Because she wanted to STUDY you!”

“Mettaton! Please d-don’t!” Alphys shouts from her prison, and the little show stopper stumbles, picking up on her unease.

Together Mettaton and the human dance with increasing fervor, and despite being opposing forces, there is nothing but grace in their impromptu choreography as each side dodges and strikes all while sticking to the rhythm, yet the more Mettaton speaks, the more uncertain the human’s steps become.

They were listening to him, doubtful he was telling the truth, but unsure if he was lying either.

“Alphys used you like another one of her test subjects! Another one of her lab rats! Why? Because you’re-!”

A fire bell rings signaling the 50k mile stone had been reached, but it’s not Mettaton who has reached it first; it’s the little white dwarf who’s passed the mile marker, practically making steam whistle out his perfectly welded ears.

No longer in the mood for games, Mettaton took a swing to their front, and the kid bent themselves backward is if being assaulted by a limbo stick before prancing away out of range.

Doubling down on his efforts, Mettaton threw all his focus into his dance moves, but the little show stopper always seemed to stay two steps ahead of him. When he did the salsa, they did the samba, when he waltzed, they did the swing, when he tap-danced, they quickstepped, when he hustled, they shuffled, and the crowd couldn’t get enough of it.

Sometimes the human would get cocky, striking a taunting pose after each of his failed hit, but viewers who couldn’t stand impertinence tasted sweet justice the few times Mettaton did manage to land a blow. But nevertheless the human didn’t falter. For every knockback they took, they’d stand taller and dance harder, and the crowds went nuts at their passion.

The robot craned his neck toward the score board and his vision went red. Not once had the kid tried to throw their own punches at him, and the few times he had managed to land a hit, his pledges increased, but they were getting down to the wire now. With both of them less than five thousand gold away from their goal.

Mettaton felt his internal battery beep. An alert flashed across the back of his eyes in computer code. “Battery capacity at 50%. Please dock to recharge, or switch into power saving mode.”

“No! Not yet!” he though frantically, and selected the second option without giving it much thought. He had to win, dammit!

“Power saving mode initiated. Rerouting power from superior lateral appendages… Detaching extremities.”

Wait- detaching what???

“Wait! No, I changed my mind!” But the command was given too late. With a sharp pop and a puff of smoke, the robot’s arms fell from their sockets.

“Ah! M-my arms!”

The crowd gasps. Alphys covers her mouth in shock and even the human looks alarmed, worried and wondering if they accidentally hurt you without noticing.

Desperate to save face, Mettaton scoffs to play it off. “W-well! Uh… who needs arms to dance anyway? With legs like these, I’m still going to win!”

And to prove his point, Mettaton launches into an armless kazatsky. In his head, the alerts continued to buzz, warning him of his battery was critically low and that his system was in danger of overheating, but he pushed on, ignoring the cautions and landing in the splits to finish. Beside him the human also started to show signs of fatigue. Knowing they both couldn’t keep this up much longer, they straighten up to make their last stand.

“Mettaton!” the kid huffs, sweat running down their nose. “Ready for my final move?”

It’s a rhetorical question and he knows it, but before he even has a chance to insert something witty, the little show stopper twists their torso and throws themself into a spin. They twirl and they twirl, pulling in their arms tight, and then squatting down low before stretching out on their side with a wink and finger gun.

“Ha! Break dancing?” Mettaton scoffs. “That’s for street performers! Anyone can do it! Watch!”

Kicking off one foot, Mettaton spun and spun into a pirouette, picking up speed. Using his internal gears he pushed himself to keep spinning. His motor revved until it whined and on the outside he was nothing but a blur.

“Warning! Battery at 12%!” His internal computer voice cautions. “Initiation power saving mode phase two;”

“Phase two??”

“Rerouting power from inferior lateral appendages-”

“Wait, don’t!”

“-Detaching extremities.”

And with little warning to onlookers, Mettaton’s legs come flying off. The one he was balanced on spills out from beneath him while the other one gets launched towards the stage lights, leaving Mettaton to fall hard on his back, completely incapacitated, and forced to stare up at the heels of his opponent’s glorious finishing move. The metal projectile explodes into the lights like a missile, sending down a shower of sparks. The little scene stealer strikes one last triumphant pose against the background of fireworks and the audience completely loses it.

The show stopper’s donation bar hits the goal then just keeps going, steadily climbing to the 110, 120, and even 130k mark before slowing down as bouquets of flowers and rose petals rain down from the audience.

Despite not having lungs to breathe, Mettaton takes a breather, allowing the crowd to cheer themselves out while his internal fan cools down his processers.

“Well, darling,” he says on his microphone once the audience had quieted. “It looks like you’ve proven your worth. You really are deserving of the title of the Underground’s number one star. I guess my time has come then.”

“No, don’t say that,” the little white dwarf says. “Just ‘cause you lost doesn’t mean you have to give up being an entertainer, much less die.”

Mettaton eyes the human with a look of bemusement and gentle affection. This little human. This curiously, amazing little show stopper, breathless and battered still urging him to stick to his dream?

“My, darling you really are something else.” Mettaton sighs. “I have no plans to quit the life of Show Bizz, but… if I am being honest with myself… today you made me see just how amazing and surprisingly fun having a co-star could be. I’ve never had this much excitement or attention from my adoring fans in months! From here on out I might even consider expanding my casting call to include more monsters than just me to play all the parts. Thank you, darling, for bringing me down a peg and knocking some sense into me. And thank you all my beautiful, fabulous, glorious watchers! You’ve been an amazing audience!”

Through some remote control in his Wi-Fi, Mettaton cuts the power. The lights go out and the lasers from Alphys’ cage click off.

“Mettaton!” Alphys yells, rushing over to her invention’s side. “Mettaton! Speak to me!”

“Alphys, darling,” Mettaton says. “Sorry for being so mean to you all day. You and your little protégé here really didn’t deserve it.”

“Mettaton, shh. Please, save your battery.”

“Your little friend here… they really are something, aren’t they Alphys?”

“They sure are, Mettaton.”

“It’s such a shame,” the robot sighs. “That you’ll be going soon. After your display here today? I could never have dreamed of a better dance partner. I wish I could have gotten to know you better instead of just using you on each of my sets. What a wasted opportunity… but you know what they say, a white dwarf is destined to go super nova.”

“Oh, Mettaton,” Alphys sighs sadly. “That’s not a saying.”

“Shh, darling. You’re ruining the moment.”

“Alphys is he going to be okay?” the human asks.

“I’ll be fine darling, though you may want to get me to a docking station as promptly as you can. My battery has been crying at me the whole shoe to recharge, and I think it’s time I started listening to it. I might go into emergency shut down mode at any minute, and if I do, my RAM might get wiped. If that happens, I won’t remember anything that’s happened today, which won’t be ideal... I could go back to trying to destroy you.”

“GAH! That’s not good!” Alphys interjects. “There’s a lot of code on your prototype body I haven’t had the chance to back up yet! I-if you shut down now I could lose months of work!”

Alphys looks the human hesitantly. Her face isn’t expectant or pleading, but the human knows what question is on her mind.

“Do you need help carrying him back to the lab?” They ask for her.

“OhmygodifyouwouldbesokindIwouldloveyouforever!” She says without taking a breath or a pause, clasping her hands together and bowing her head. “I know we are literally feet away from the last elevator to the capital, but this is really really important to me, and I would be in your debt forever.”

“Alphys,” the human interrupts her by placing a hand on her shoulder, and says eight words that would have sounded utterly ridiculous out of context, had anyone walked in at that exact moment.

“You get the torso,” the kid smiles warmly. “I’ll get his limbs.”

#Undertale #Fan Fiction #undertale fanfiction #My writing #You monster #frisk #alphys #mettaton #burgerpants #bratty and catty

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