Work Text:
Tell Sans he’s awesome unless you want to get dunked on.
Papyrus blinked at the frightening message. A strangely specific request. He wasn’t sure if this would count as hate mail or not. He shrugged, getting up from his chair to knock on Sans’s door. It wasn’t really any trouble. He wasn’t sure how the requester would know he had done it, but whatever.
“SANS? YOU’RE AWESOME.”
He heard a shuffling sound and a few moments later his brother opened the door. “oh. thanks bro. so are you.”
Papyrus beamed. “Alright, bye!” he scurried back to his desk to continue browsing the Undernet. A few minutes later, he got another message, in the same style as the previous one.
Get Sans a bottle of ketchup unless you want to get dunked on.
Papyrus wasn’t sure what the meaning of all this was, but he supposed the sender had been satisfied with the last action. He wasn’t entirely certain what getting “dunked on” would consist of, but he supposed that as it was being used as a threat, he may not want to find out. He sighed, going downstairs to the kitchen to see if they had any ketchup. Nope. A bunch of empty bottles of them in the trash can, though. Honestly, Papyrus was surprised Sans had bothered to put them in the trash at all, but he wasn’t complaining. He wondered what would happen if he ignored the message. Perhaps he would risk getting “dunked on”. He could handle it. He was tough. And he didn’t really want to go all the way to the grocery store just for a bottle of ketchup that was requested by an anonymous blackmailer. So he went back to his room and continued on his computer as usual. He received another message soon after.
Where’s Sans’s ketchup?
Papyrus sighed. Maybe he should try reasoning with the sender. He clicked the “reply” button to formulate a response.
SORRY, BUT WHY ARE YOU SO INTERESTED IN MY BROTHER HAVING KETCHUP?
He’s someone I care about.
WHO ARE YOU, EXACTLY?
;)
Papyrus squinted, bewildered. A winky face? What on earth was that supposed to mean? According to his research, winky faces were usually used in flirting, but he didn’t think that was the case here. They could also be used for mischief. Actually, things were starting to make sense now. Yes, he knew exactly who this was.
But wait… just as he was about to crescendo his brother’s name, he noticed one small detail that disapproved that it could be him. Everything was perfectly capitalized and grammatically correct. Sans always wrote (and somehow spoke) in all lowercase. It drove Papyrus crazy sometimes, but that was his style, and he wouldn’t change it for anything.
So… Are you getting the ketchup or not? Because if you’re not, your action figures will go bye-bye.
Papyrus gasped. No! They would steal his action figures?! That was unacceptable. He was going to have a talking to with this mystery sender… but first, he figured he’d better get that ketchup in order to prevent his precious collection from being stolen. With an exasperated groan, he shoved himself away from his desk in his wheeled chair and stood up. SANS, I’M GOING TO THE STORE.” He paused. “...DO YOU NEED ANYTHING?”
“nah, thanks though,” his brother’s deep voice replied.
Papyrus went on his way, wishing he could teleport like Sans. Actually, why didn’t he just talk to Sans about all this?
He marched back to the house and up to Sans’s room, knocking impatiently.
“SANS, I NEED TO TALK TO YOU.”
His brother opened the door a moment later and looked up at him. “that sure was a fast trip to the store. what do you need to talk about?”
Papyrus strode into the room and sat down on the mattress, grimacing at the dirt and grease that littered the place. “SO AS YOU KNOW, I’M VERY POPULAR ON THE UNDERNET… ONLY A DOZEN FOLLOWERS MORE BEFORE I GET TO DOUBLE DIGITS!”
Sans grinned. “yeah, congrats bro.”
“I KNOW, IT’S QUITE AN ACCOMPLISHMENT. BUT THAT’S BESIDES THE POINT. MY POPULARITY HAS ENSURED FAN MAIL, OF COURSE, AND I HAVE BEEN RECEIVING THESE PARTICULARLY STRANGE MESSAGES FROM AN ANONYMOUS SENDER TELLING ME TO DO THINGS OR ELSE I’LL “GET DUNKED ON”. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THAT MEANS?”
Sans shrugged. “i mean, probably that they’re gonna beat you up or something. what sorta things are they telling you to do?”
“WELL… FIRST THEY TOLD ME TO TELL YOU YOU’RE AWESOME. THEN THEY KEPT BUGGING ME TO GET YOU A BOTTLE OF KETCHUP. I ASKED THEM WHY AND THEY SAID THEY’RE SOMEONE THAT CARES ABOUT YOU. I ASKED WHO THEY WERE AND ALL THEY SENT WAS A WINKY FACE!” Papyrus huffed. “AT FIRST I THOUGHT IT WAS YOU TRYING TO PRANK ME, BUT I KNOW WHAT YOUR WRITING LOOKS LIKE. IT’S COMPLETELY DIFFERENT.”
He heard a soft sort of sniffling noise and looked over to his brother snickering, or trying not to, at least. He glared at him. “WHAT’S SO FUNNY?”
“heheh… it WAS me bro. obviously i wasn’t gonna actually do anything to you, but i thought it’d be funny to see how long i could get you to do stuff for me. you got it pretty quickly, though.”
Papyrus looked dumbfounded. “BUT… THE WRITING… IT WAS ALL CAPITALIZED AND GRAMMATICALLY CORRECT AND IT SAID THINGS LIKE ‘WANT TO’ INSTEAD OF ‘WANNA’ AND IT JUST SOUNDED SO UNLIKE YOU--”
“heh. it’s called a ~disguise~,” Sans smirked.
Papyrus glared at him. “...WHAT, NO STUPID PUN THIS TIME?”
Sans shrugged. “well, i was gonna try one, but… i didn’t have the guts for it.”
All the light disappeared from Papyrus’s eyes.
“NyeeehhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!”