Chapter Text
The first thing that struck you about the place was the sheer...variety, of customers. A week or two ago you might have thought that they were elaborate costumes. Some new Halloween that you hadn't heard of yet, or a weird party that you had stumbled into. Honestly, you had waltzed into enough furry cons by accident to not really expect anything else.
You doubted you would have assumed "monsters". If the small, roughly dumpling-shaped child had run up to you and exclaimed that he was a weird little magic creature from beneath the nearby mountain, you would have smiled and nodded. Little kids were just like that.
Now though, since everything had happened, it seemed normal. Sure. Magic monsters. Why not? This world is weird enough, at least this was exciting.
.......
"SO HOW DO I...?"
You squeezed his hand assuredly. He had been provided the longest pants available, but his ankles poked out under the hems like a lanky teenager who couldn't dress himself. "Hi, how can I help you today?"
The woman opened her mouth, but he shouted first.
"HI HOW CAN I HELP YOU?"
Oh how desperately you wanted to give that woman an apologetic look. But he kept staring at you expectantly, and smiling politely without looking her directly seemed easier. The soda dispenser behind her head sure was interesting.
"...TODAY!" He added, jolting up like a cat that had just seen a snake. Ironically, he kept your fingers in a vice-like grip. Was he trembling, or did his bones just make that sound when he moved?
You nodded at her.
Ahh, Refreshing!
Her mouth must have still been agape because the first noise she made didn't sound like a word.
"Can I get a....number two-B..."
His long finger darted for the colored picture on the screen. "Would you like a Medium or Large?" He froze, an inch away from the screen. You weren't looking but could see him searching for the sizes.
"Oh, uh.... medium's okay."
He must have spotted the large "M" button along the side, because he redirected himself and returned to speed. Medium, 2-B. The order flashed on the left side. Incom-
"THAT'S NOT ENOUGH. INCOMPLETE ORDER!"
She jumped at his voice, and looked almost offended. All the while his head turned from you to her, searching for answers anywhere he could find them.
Coca Cola, one great taste deserves another!
"What would you like to drink with that?"
Despite your best efforts to have a kind voice, she didn't look soothed. "...Large mocha frappe?"
His fingers twirled around the screen, frantically looking for the frappes. Drinks? No. Desserts? No. Dollar menu??? Nope. The panic in his movements got more and more palpable.
Thirsty?
That one was ominous. Without any sound you reached over and tapped the Café tab. Large, Frappe. Flavor: Mocha.
"OH!!" He sounded astonished. "I-WILL THAT BE ALL FOR TODAY?"
She didn't seem like she was finished, but after a moment of incredulous staring she nodded. He pressed "Take Out Total" so hard it sounded like someone had thrown at rock at the screen.
The smile was evident in his voice. "YOUR TOTAL IS EIGHT DOLLARS AND SIXTEY CENTS!"
She handed him a prepared stack on bills, one she must have prepared without knowing what an ordeal she would have, and he tapped in the amount studiously. You finally broke your eyes from the machine. His eye-lights zipped in his sockets. Counting, recounting. The drawer slipped open and he deposited everything perfectly. Organization was his strong suit, which was, you could admit, desperately needed here.
The receipt printed loudly, which you tore and handed to her with both hands. Following suit, he placed the money on top and then the coins in a neat stack.
"That'll be right out!" You nodded politely, ignoring the puzzled expression. Heading for the kitchen and away from the lobbies watching eyes, your other coworker started the frappe machine.
He trailed you like a massive puppy, silent besides his own rattling. Finally, when you were safe from the woman's gaze, you turned.
"..."
"..."
"....I think you did g-."
"I'MSOSORRYIFORGOTWHERETHEFRAPPESAREITWASSOOBVIOUSINRETROSPECTI'MDEEPLYASHAMEDYOUCANTAKEITOUITOFMYPAYCHECKIFYOUWANT-!"
Papyrus had leaned down to yell in your face, and the natural reaction was to just take your open palm and cover his teeth. "Dude, I don't care. You got it done fast, and you were polite! That's all I want!"
From under your hands his mouth turned up again. "REALLY? DO YOU MEAN THAT HUMAN??"
The fryer began to beep. "Of course. And if Carson takes shit out of your paycheck I'll personally kick his ass." You glanced towards the noise. His face was strangely warm. "Sans do you-?"
He was already there, taking the basket out of the oil before pushing the small black button underneath. He was quick in his job, no matter how slowly he moved. If you cared enough to care, you might have been intrigued by him.
"Thank you."
Papyrus hadn't moved, and his face had begun to flush from the contact. To be fair though, you hadn't moved either. You retracted and wiped your sweaty palm across the front of your pants.
"S-SORRY!"
"What are you apologizing for?"
.......
"Do you have any applications?" Your voice was dim through the crowd behind you. The man working front-counter looked hassled.
He was crumpling un-taken receipts and tossing them-you assumed-into a trash can beneath his station. A sigh escaped his lips. "No, i'm sorry, we're not looking to take any more people."
"Oh my bad. I thought I saw a sign here awhile ago for jobs."
His expression looked something akin to irritation, though he hadn't even looked at you. Before the "Alright, sorry. Can I please have a McDouble?" you had planned out could work itself through your throat, he finally glared up at you from under his hat.
"Are you going to order-?"
While you were startled by his harsh tone, he seemed startled by something else entirely. Relief flooded in, visibly, he looked like you had just delivered the best news of the day. The annoyed eyes were replaced by much softer ones, and he offered a warm smile.
"Oh! I didn't know you were- okay, take this." He pulled a hidden sheet from under the register and handed it over. An application form. "We're a little busy but if you fill this out and give it back I can get a manager to give a quick interview!"
You took it with a polite thank you, and scurried off to an almost-remote area that you could write.
It was....
short.
It's not like you were exactly qualified to judge this piece of paper, but the information it was asking seemed...sparse. Name, date of birth. Prior work experience.
Crowded restaurant, tired workers, suspiciously easy applications. This whole operation screamed 'understaffed'. A guaranteed hire. Why weren't more people applying?
You moved through the questions with ease. Finally arriving to the more personal questions. Race, ethnicity, social security number, etc. One of the questions however you had never seen before. Not on school forms, or when you applied for your license. It was something you wouldn't have ever considered putting on your resume.
Species.
It shouldn't have shocked you. Now that monster's were...well, here, it should be expected. A moment not to ponder.
But it was a moment of realization. That man thought you were a monster, and didn't offer anything but malice until he saw you correctly. How human-like. To see these brand new people and immediately decide to be prejudiced.
You scribbled out your answer and stood, returning to the counter and giving it with a smile. He seemed thrilled.
.......
"MR. CARSON WHERE ARE THE HONEY MUSTARDS?"
Your head perked up. Your hands still bagging each meal and placing it on the counter for Sans.
"In stock."
"YES, BUT I CAN'T FIND WHERE."
"With the rest of the sauces."
"THAT'S NOT VERY HELPFUL!"
You almost snickered. The skeleton besides you was slowly putting a plastic lid on a large cup. He was very attentive to his brother, he must have been listening too.
"Ask Y/n, I'm busy."
"BUT THEY'RE BUSY TOO!"
Indeed. It was hard to tell someone every other minute that no, we do not serve breakfast all day. That and the orange Hi-C syrup decided to stop dispensing. Nothing you couldn't handle though, and Carson knew.
"All the more reason for you stop worrying about sauces. Go help out, that's what I hired you for."
Without another word Papyrus stomped back. He looked at the empty cartons held delicately in his gloved hands, that he so proudly went to restock.
"Third shelf from the front, close to the wall." You paused. "It's at my eye level so... probably about chest level for you. Tall bastard."
Whether it was the joke or the information, he perked right back up, and ran back to the stock room.
You waited.
"....NYEH HEH!"
"i think he found them." Sans reached over and grabbed the happy meal you just boxed.
You laughed. Suddenly a knew order appeared on screen, and it took up half of it. You chuckle ended with a sharp inhale, as you tried not to swear. A dozen sandwiches, three orders of large fries, six of medium, and seven drinks. Only one of which was a fountain drink. The rest were smoothies, frappes, milkshakes, specialty coffees.... all that had to made manually.
"...Sans?"
"yeah?"
"If I walked out would you come with me?"
"you're mom will have to talk to my mom."
"I only know Papyrus. Can he be a stand-in mom?"
"nah, he's not ready for motherhood. looks like we're stuck."
.......
He scurried up to you. You had been directed to a table close to the counter. It hadn't even been five minutes since you had sat down. "Hi! Sorry to keep you waiting."
You offered him a generous smile. "No worries. You doing the interview?"
"Yup! Since I'm the manger in training-" He paused only slightly to revel in his position, but you still caught it. "-i'll be checking everything over."
Your form was folded in his hand. He ignored it completely as he sat down opposite from you.
"Good for you."
"Thank you. Now..." He jarringly stared you dead in the eyes. "Why do you want to work here?"
Was this a situation where you lied, or told the truth? He seemed taken with you, or at least relieved to be interviewing a human rather than something else. Should you feed into that?
You tilted your head and maintained the eye contact. "Well...I've just always wanted to work somewhere so busy! I've always loved being in crowds of people. This place is absolutely perfect."
He drew back, looking both bewildered and delighted.
"That's certainly...unique. But that's good." He leaned down, and lowered his voice. "Y'know, I was a little worried that you'd be a bad fit. You've been our only applicant in awhile, and I would have hated to turn you down."
"Really?" You started. "That must suck. Absolutely no applicants?"
He glanced around. "Well, the only good one. You know." The joking tone annoyed you more than anything else about him, but that didn't stop you from nodding understandingly. "Anyway, what do you consider you weakest, and strongest attribute?"
"Sometimes I can't control my volume. Anyways-" You looked straight up at the ceiling. "What did you mean by 'good' applicants?" Your words slowly rose in volume.
You weren't looking at him, but his expression fell so loudly it shone through his voice. "Nothing, now how-"
"Did you mean monsters? Because surely out of all the monsters that eat here everyday, one must have applied, right?"
You were basically shouting now, your head leaning off the back of your chair and your hands clasped comfortably across your chest. People were looking, you could feel it. So could he.
"That's none of your business."
You shrugged, and tilted your head to face him again. Almost too palpably he was nervous. You weren't a great actor, but he was so much worse. "Well I wouldn't want to work somewhere that's like this! If you're like this about monsters being born monsters, who knows what else you're a freak about?"
Freak was a good choice. It must have hit his soul where it counted, and for a moment he didn't respond. You avoided looking away. The audience held him captive, but you were just as stuck until this was resolved.
He stood, smiling so strained you could see the outline of his teeth through his lips. "...Is this Tuesday at noon a good day to start? We're a family friendly chain, we wouldn't want to lose a worker over a misunderstanding."
Something kept you sitting. Don't stoop to his level, even if it's by rising. "Of course. Thank you for the opportunity, ....?"
"...Carson."
"Carson." He looked like a Carson. "I'll be seeing you!" You chirped.
You turned and left the store without another word. Got a job, and publicly humiliated a jackass. A successful outing!
.......