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Frisk staggers down the hall, tail flicking uneasily behind them. They leave dusty pawprints on the gold and yellow floor behind them. So close. So close to winning the game.
They jerk to a halt as a thickset skeleton stalks out from behind a pillar and plants himself in their path. His bony tail rattles as it twitches with restrained rage. Frisk's ears perk up and they part their jaws, waving their tail mockingly. "Heya, Sans. So glad to see you haven't scrammed."
"You've been busy, huh, kit." The skeleton cat rumbles. His empty sockets fix darkly on the dusty kitty licking their paw. "I've got a question for you." Frisk grooms themself, watching Sans. "Do you believe even the worst cat can change it's spots, that any cat can be good if they just try?"
"This is new." Frisk mews, tail swishing. Sans's claws dig into the tile.
"rrh rrh rrh." He laughs. "alright then. I've got a better question. do you wanna have a bad time?" Frisk crouches, ears and tail twitching, eyes wide in excitement. "cause if you cross that line," San's jaws part in a predatory grin, "you're REALLY not gonna like what happens next."
Frisk doesn't hesitate, the once brown tabby prancing over the designated line and puffing dust from their fur. Their claws grip the golden tiles, ready to leap on Sans and tear him to pieces.
His sockets close and his tail gently sweeps the ground. "welp. sorry old molly. this is why i don't make promises."