[Because house 3 hasn't been enough of a playground of pranks by now, started by one Sans T. Skeleton, Sans will quickly find the day after his ketchup prank that he will have a hard time getting to sleep in his room.
Because every two hours, on the dot, an alarm from someone's phone goes off somewhere close by. Which means clanging pots and pans every two hours.
It may be difficult to find the source, because Papyrus has definitely sacrificed Sans' phone for the cause by planting it underneath the carpet in the center of the room. Sans will have to remove his furniture and peel back the carpet halfway across the space to reach it. And that's assuming he figures out it's there. Good luck with that.]
[Between this and the microwave bed, Sans does not get much sleep that day. Unlike the microwave bed, however, Sans does not get the luxury of getting to simply relocate to another part of the house. Mostly 'cause someone had the brilliant idea of turning the alarms up to their maximum volume.
Yeah. That's alarming all right.
By the time he works it out and performs a successful extraction attempt, his ossicles are ringing like nothing else.
Looks like he'll have to retaliate.
So Papyrus, when he next enters his room, will find that his shoes have been replaced with some artfully sliced pieces of bread. In fact, there's an awful lot of these "loafers" hanging around - in his closet, on the carpet, at the foot of his racecar bed.
Where are his actual shoes, may you ask?
They've been displaced onto the house's roof with a note that reads cheerfully:]
[Papyrus, grumbling, puts the loafers on his feet. He wears them the entire time he searches for his real shoes. When he finally finds them, hours later, he is fueling Rage like he never has before.
When Sans next sees his bedroom, he will find that every single item in it has been wrapped wrapped entirely with intricately designed, Snowdin's-favorite-holiday-themed gift wrap made from taped together scraps of paper that Papyrus himself lovingly and painstakingly painted and decorated. In case he decides to take the lazy route and simply start sleeping in the living room, the sofa has been gift wrapped, as well. Should he attempt to plop down on it or his bed anyway, the paper will instantly collapse, betraying the fact that the sofa and bed are not wrapped at all, they are actually completely missing.
They're buried in the backyard, their location only betrayed by a mound of soil with a shovel sticking out of it and a note on the shovel that says,]
[His coccyx is thoroughly sore by the time he recovers from that one, thanks to his tendency to more or less collapse into bed after the end of a very long, exhausting day of doing absolutely nothing. Both the couch and the bed - gone. Papyrus plays a cruel game.
When he finally manages to get his bed back - the couch too, though it certainly didn't come quietly, insisting on getting stuck in the doorways and scraping along the floors - he just kinda leaves most of his stuff in the wrapping paper.
For his next trick, he rearranges the meticulously organized contents of Papyrus's wardrobe. Everything from socks to gloves to shirt to scarves ends up in completely the wrong drawer and closet.
Should Papyrus progress past that initial barrier in his morning routine, he'll eventually discover that someone, and I'm not naming any names here, has squirted a few drops of bright blue food coloring into the toothpaste, ready for the next unsuspecting victim to dye their pearly whites.
[Papyrus has bluemouth for several days. He is extremely annoyed about it and likely has to suffer many color-related puns at his expense.
Should Sans open the fridge the next morning, though, a cascade of colored balloons will tumble out onto him. Haha, yes, very funny. But if he looks for any of his 'dogs that he had left in there, they will be missing.
He may eventually find them. Individually plastic wrapped and placed inside each of the balloons.
Once he gets one out, though, he will find that what is actually in the balloons are hotdog-shaped and colored carrots. They are much better for you, Sans.]
[You're killing him here, Papyrus. Look at all this effort he has to go to just to get a bite around here. Depriving him of his lovingly cultivated greasy food supply and then replacing them with carrots?
At this point it ain't just cruel. It's personal.
In recompense, Sans empties all of Papyrus's boxes of dry spaghetti noodles and replaces the contents with a wide variety of colorful, wooden pick-up sticks. But wait, there's more!
The cans of tomato sauce have had their contents replaced with ketchup, though this won't be obvious unless Papyrus hazards a taste - the labels are all intact, and who can deny that sweet tomato-y smell?
Enjoy your gourmet spaghetti this go around, Papyrus.]
[A line has definitely been crossed at some point. The brothers are no longer holding anything back, going right where it hurts. Papyrus leaves a bowl of soggy wooden sticks covered in ketchup outside Sans' door. Enjoy your spaghetti.
Sans might be surprised to find all his ketchup, aside from what's on the "spaghetti", is completely missing. The bottles have all been left in their place, completely empty, including any he has stashed in his room.
He may eventually find that Papyrus emptied every last bit of the ketchup into the water supply to the house, in the form of diluted ketchup water being all that will come out of any faucet or shower head. Papyrus is willing to march over to the next vacant house to wash or drink anything for as long as this takes to play out.
Alphys might get caught up in this one? But all is fair in love and war?? I guess???]
[The "spaghetti" in front of his door ain't real surprising. The lack of ketchup in the house, though a frustrating and upsetting happenstance, ain't surprising either. He makes do with mustard and a side of steak sauce over his 'dogs in the meantime. It's only when he's gotta turn the faucets on to rinse some of the globs of yellow from his phalanges that he gets a handful of awful ketchup water.
Out of morbid curiosity, he tries every faucet in the house. He even tries the shower.
He can't even be annoyed that the whole house smells like ketchup gone sour now. That's devotion. That's amazing.
When he's done laughing at the sheer absurdity of it (and finished wiping his phalanges on his jacket, because this is gonna have house-wide repercussions and Papyrus needs to know that), he settles down to devise an adequate counterstrike.
Once the water runs clear again, Sans gets to work adjusting every pressure valve in the house. The kitchen sink now blasts a veritable fountain of high-pressure water onto whatever poor unsuspecting soul turns it on, with no hope of moderation. The bathroom sink yields little more than a sad little trickle.
And the shower seems to only be capable of dousing you in icy cold water in five-second intervals.
[Papyrus moves to wash a plate in his own house finally after several days of ketchup water, and yelps as the water shoots out like a firehose right into the plate, shattering it instantly in his hands, and the stream continues, until Papyrus can't withstand standing in its way anymore and he collapses back onto the ground.
With some difficulty, he manages to turn the sink back off and leaves a post-it note marking the sink OUT OF ORDER.
In the night, Papyrus steals all of Sans' clothes, especially his usual hoodie and slippers, and carefully soaks them in the shower. Then, he places all of them in the freezer overnight.
When Sans wakes up, his frozen slippers will be waiting for him at his bedside where he left them. By the time Sans starts looking for the rest of his clothes, they will be waiting for him, folded nicely, on the kitchen table, completely frozen.]
[At least he ain't capable of freezing thanks to the bones, though that's a small comfort when he spends most of the day draping his clothes on top of the warm oven and waiting for them to thaw out. He steals a blanket from Papyrus's room in the meantime, and parks himself on the couch as he waits for his wardrobe to defrost, huddled there like a skeleton-shaped burrito.
He spends most of the rest of the day wallpapering every available surface in Papyrus's room with photos of a particularly irritating canine. And if he thinks his technology is safe from the intrusion, he'd better think again - every chime and text tone and ringtone on Papyrus's phone now plays a superbly annoying tune, and every contact in the phone has been replaced with the word "bark."
[Okay. Okay. This has gone on long enough, and by that, she means she didn't know Papyrus was involved and the ketchup water was excruciating, considering she has no other close friends other than Ahsoka and some phone calls needed to be made. She also lost roughtly 10 HP after an incredible water blast directly to the face. She considers it a miracle her glasses survived.
It's time for action.
So she texts them both, after she's pretty sure most things are Safe:]
guys this prank thing has gotten out of hand we need to talk meet me in the living room?? please???
[She waits there, pacing until they're both settled on the couch.]
Guys, this has been fun, but, uh, I think we're on a fast track to, uh, d-destroying the apartment? And since we all need to live here, I just wanted to say...
[Her hands are in her labcoat pockets. She hits a button. And the tiny levers she has on the ceiling release and douse them both in water balloons.]
T-That it's not over! Hah!
[She raises her tiny fists in victory, and fucking bolts from the room.]
[See, the thing is, Papyrus actually feels kind of bad when he sees that text. Alphys is right. This has totally gotten out of hand. There's no noodles in the household and Papyrus has to travel to the next empty house over just to wash his hands or take a shower. So, yeah. Alphys is right. He heads to the living room dutifully, hands in his lap as he takes a seat.
He still has that silly dog song stuck in his head. It plays as a background as he waits for Sans to get there.
Sans finally arrives, and Papyrus wants to say something, but he lets Alphys speak first, and--
He's soaking wet. The couch is soaking wet. The couch that he actually buried out back a few days ago.
Yeah. This has gotten out of hand. But Papyrus is going to ensure that this tire fire burns until nothing's left behind. No prisoners. The prank war has just begun.
And that's why, the next anyone notices, the entire first floor of the house has been set up in the world's worst obstacle course. Colored yarn stretches from wall to wall, so much yarn that pretty much no one is getting to reach the kitchen (or the front door, for that matter) anytime soon. Papyrus is always willing to sacrifice for the greater good. For victory.]
[Should've seen this coming, honestly. Water balloons are just the cherry on the tip of the prank war cake, and how it's a melee á trois of senseless pranking and ridiculous wastes of resources.
Nothing is sacred. Everything and anything goes.
Papyrus's room was first. Alphys's room is next.
So she gets a full treatment of Sans's own poorly-drawn renditions of every piece of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie 2 merchandise he can realistically recreate. She gets "posters" (sheets of butcher paper with crude drawings of the much-maligned characters of the sequel), and "figurines" (paper maché, with a special care put into the cat ears), and, possibly worst of all, she gets a soundbyte of the Mew Mew Kissy Cutie 2 theme song on her phone, somehow. It plays as her alarm five times each morning, and seems to have a couple hidden timers that sets it off at seemingly random and inconvenient times. Every contact has had its name changed to a random character from said sequel, with no indication as to who might be who.
As for the yarn downstairs, well, Sans doesn't mind blipping himself from place to place. And if he gets a little tangled up in it, hey - he's got plenty of experience workin' his way free thanks to bein' up to his eyesockets in debt with Muffet.]
[As much as she knew she invited this upon herself, this was awful. Sans might be able to move around effectively, but eventually she just ends up yelling her way through it with rather ineffective claws. Her room wasn't even a respite, with Sans MAKING EVERYTHING HORRIBLE, and as soon as she's collected all of the 'merch' she dumps it in a bucket outside of his room. Sans will notice she took it somewhere to light all of it on fire. There's very little left that isn't ash and a bit of cat ear.
Thy both need to get hit next. First, she tiptoes in when Sans is asleep and saran-wraps him to his bed. It probably won't inconvenience him very much, but that's only part one. The next part is getting Papyrus to wake him up. So she also leaves a bucket of water above the door- it takes her a few hours to rig the robotics to trigger the dump instead of leaving the door just resting open, and she's very proud- and 'borrows' his phone to leave a text to Papyrus about how he's 'never getting out of bed' and a variety of messages designed to make him storm right in there.
[Oh my god? Sans? There's still? Yarn everywhere? How could this backfire so spectacularly. Sans is going to sleep for the rest of his life. This is terrible.]
SAAAAAAANS!!! [Papyrus yells at top volume from the corner of the kitchen he's managed to un-yarn to make breakfast. He switches off the french toast (which is mostly just fried, buttered toast) and struggles against the yarn to reach the stairs. It takes him several minutes of yelling and contorting to reach the next floor. When he finally rushes to Sans' room and bursts inside, he's greeted with a bucket of water being upended on his head, and he screams from surprise.
Okay. He sees Sans saran wrapped to his bed, so obviously it wasn't Sans that was responsible for this.
Alright. So Papyrus later returns the favor, setting a bucket above Alphys' door, this time full of tons of glitter. It's not as fancy as her mechanized bucket trick, but it will do.
Aaand he glues Sans' slippers to the floor for good measure.]
[Being saran-wrapped to a bed ain't as bad as it looks, honestly. It just means he's got an excuse to stay there for the rest of the day, even if, uh...his floor kinda ends up a good deal wetter than usual.
By the time everything evens out and Papyrus is no longer wholly drenched, Sans finds his slippers glued to the floor, and has to question where this trend of gratuitous slipper abuse has stemmed from. What did slippers ever do to anyone?
He then devotes the rest of the day to a) saran-wrapping everything in Alphys's room (yes, everything) in a low-grade repeat of Papyrus's little Christmas wrapping paper trick, and b) concealing firecracker poppers in every box of dry spaghetti noodles he can find. Dumping any of them in water will yield several loud and satisfying pops as the water bursts cheerfully out from the pot, showering the surrounding area with plenty of uncooked noodles in the process.]
[There's so much glitter. She is suffering. There's glitter between her scales, it's on her glasses, it's in the pockets of all her outfits. It's never leaving. In retribution, she rubs herself on Papyrus' door, but it's still not revenge. Especially when she gets back and god it's more saran wrap DAMNIT SANS
Fine, fine. If Sans wants to get wrapping, she'll get wrapping. With duct tape. Everything is now taped to the ceiling, including his bed. For Papyrus, however, she knows that kind of drastic action isn't necessary. So instead she changes all his clocks to be an hour late, so he'll be behind to his engagements. It's nefarious.]
[Oh god, cooking was more explosive today than usual. And worse, it started an hour late! Papyrus didn't realize his clocks were all off until well after he got home.
This time, Papyrus goes for more of a gamble on who's going to get hit. He mixes some cheese sauce with water until it looks like some refreshing orange juice and places it in the fridge to be consumed by one or both of the other two.
Then, he empties both of their toothpaste tubes and refills them with vanilla pudding.]
[You know the annoying thing about everything ending up on the ceiling? It makes it damn near impossible to collapse on his bed after a long day of lollygagging and faffing about absently. That's tough work, it is! As tempting as it would be to pull off the hilarious sight gag of chilling on the ceiling for a bit with the rest of his belongings, exerting that much magical effort is too much work. So he cuts it all down and prepares his next assault.
First of all, vanilla pudding is delicious, so there's no loss there. He spends the rest of the day squeezing the bottle out into his mouth whenever he feels the need for a pick-me-up - and a good thing, too, 'cause that was definitely not orange juice and it's a real good thing he don't have a digestive tract, or he'd be projectile-vomiting into a bucket right about now.
To get back at that souring of their food supply, he spends a little quality time getting to know the workings of the refrigerator by switching the side of the door the handle's on - leaving one or both of them to tug and tug without any result until they figure that the handle's switched sides and open it from the correct, now un-handled side.
Since food seems to be the common theme here, Sans gets to work besmirching the tea supply next. He slits open each and every tea bag they've got on hand, empties the leaves into a jar - no point in wastin' good tea, is there? - and replaces the contents with gravy granules before sealin' them right up again.]
[Unfortunately, Alphys does have some form of digestion, which means she spends a solid 20 minutes of her day heaving into the sink and dumping water in it to wash out that orange abomination in the fridge. It takes her like ten minutes to open the damn thing and then, no, betrayed by it's contents. She isn't much of a tea drinker, but she's beginning not to trust anything in the kitchen anymore, so... well, time to add to that one.
Thanks to Chara, she now has a wealth of ideas and decides to keep with the food theme, by blowing up a balloon and covering it with icing. It's a cake. It's on the table. Cut a piece if you dare. Or just bite it and have a balloon explode right in your face. Either or!
And just in case nobody gets hit with that, just to be an utter nuisance, she rearranges the contents of the kitchen. Have fun finding the silverware!]
[WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE KITCHEN! WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE TEA! WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE CAKE!
Papyrus takes out a whole day just to arrange the contents of the kitchen back in place and clean up all the mess from all the food-based pranks. No one is allowed in the kitchen the entire time. It needs a deep cleaning.
The next day, Papyrus works overnight to take out two monsters with one stone. Not that he is actually going to be throwing rocks at them, because that would be cruel and bad. No, what he has done is rig up the entire first floor to be a puzzle, a throwback to the X and O and △ pathway puzzles he had set up outside Snowdin. If you want to get to any specific room, you are going to have to figure out which puzzle to solve and how! Good luck!
Actually, Papyrus isn't sure this counts as a prank? It seems more like he is doing a favor to his housemates. Oh well!]
[At least he's got his shortcuts, though it's a royal pain tryin' to figure out how to get from place to place with all the darn X's and O's. Hugs and kisses? Thanks, Papyrus; he loves you too.
He loves you so much he's gonna get you back for this. That suspicious-looking cake isn't even a cake, gosh darn it. That's just cruel.
He doesn't actually put very much effort into his next trick. He just digs up the file of an old virus Hermann cooked up by accident - now with Sans bein' in the proper mindspace to appreciate it, no less - and sends it to the both of 'em anonymously, cunningly disguised as advertisements relevant to their interests. For some thrilling spaghetti recipes, click here! For a download on saving computer energy, download this file!
Don't worry, though. The virus wipes itself out after a hard reboot. But in the meantime, enjoy your Nyan Cat.]
[The worst part of all of this is that Alphys knows Sans can just shortcut around. She has to suffer through every one of them. AND THEN. AND THEN!!! Hours of scrubbing her computer files until she gets rid of that awful thing from Sans. He's done the unthinkable- made her not appreciate nyan cat. How dare. How dare.
Alright, now she is going to get serious. For Papyrus, she painstakingly solves the puzzle for his room and shifts everything inside of it just an inch and a half to the left. All of it. For Sans, she's adding to the food theme, and pulls the classic "mayonnaise inside jelly donuts" bit. She even gets to eat one before she messes with them. Fantastic.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
11/21
Because every two hours, on the dot, an alarm from someone's phone goes off somewhere close by. Which means clanging pots and pans every two hours.
It may be difficult to find the source, because Papyrus has definitely sacrificed Sans' phone for the cause by planting it underneath the carpet in the center of the room. Sans will have to remove his furniture and peel back the carpet halfway across the space to reach it. And that's assuming he figures out it's there. Good luck with that.]
no subject
Yeah. That's alarming all right.
By the time he works it out and performs a successful extraction attempt, his ossicles are ringing like nothing else.
Looks like he'll have to retaliate.
So Papyrus, when he next enters his room, will find that his shoes have been replaced with some artfully sliced pieces of bread. In fact, there's an awful lot of these "loafers" hanging around - in his closet, on the carpet, at the foot of his racecar bed.
Where are his actual shoes, may you ask?
They've been displaced onto the house's roof with a note that reads cheerfully:]
no subject
When Sans next sees his bedroom, he will find that every single item in it has been wrapped wrapped entirely with intricately designed, Snowdin's-favorite-holiday-themed gift wrap made from taped together scraps of paper that Papyrus himself lovingly and painstakingly painted and decorated. In case he decides to take the lazy route and simply start sleeping in the living room, the sofa has been gift wrapped, as well. Should he attempt to plop down on it or his bed anyway, the paper will instantly collapse, betraying the fact that the sofa and bed are not wrapped at all, they are actually completely missing.
They're buried in the backyard, their location only betrayed by a mound of soil with a shovel sticking out of it and a note on the shovel that says,]
no subject
When he finally manages to get his bed back - the couch too, though it certainly didn't come quietly, insisting on getting stuck in the doorways and scraping along the floors - he just kinda leaves most of his stuff in the wrapping paper.
For his next trick, he rearranges the meticulously organized contents of Papyrus's wardrobe. Everything from socks to gloves to shirt to scarves ends up in completely the wrong drawer and closet.
Should Papyrus progress past that initial barrier in his morning routine, he'll eventually discover that someone, and I'm not naming any names here, has squirted a few drops of bright blue food coloring into the toothpaste, ready for the next unsuspecting victim to dye their pearly whites.
You're blue now.]
no subject
Should Sans open the fridge the next morning, though, a cascade of colored balloons will tumble out onto him. Haha, yes, very funny. But if he looks for any of his 'dogs that he had left in there, they will be missing.
He may eventually find them. Individually plastic wrapped and placed inside each of the balloons.
Once he gets one out, though, he will find that what is actually in the balloons are hotdog-shaped and colored carrots. They are much better for you, Sans.]
no subject
At this point it ain't just cruel. It's personal.
In recompense, Sans empties all of Papyrus's boxes of dry spaghetti noodles and replaces the contents with a wide variety of colorful, wooden pick-up sticks. But wait, there's more!
The cans of tomato sauce have had their contents replaced with ketchup, though this won't be obvious unless Papyrus hazards a taste - the labels are all intact, and who can deny that sweet tomato-y smell?
Enjoy your gourmet spaghetti this go around, Papyrus.]
no subject
Sans might be surprised to find all his ketchup, aside from what's on the "spaghetti", is completely missing. The bottles have all been left in their place, completely empty, including any he has stashed in his room.
He may eventually find that Papyrus emptied every last bit of the ketchup into the water supply to the house, in the form of diluted ketchup water being all that will come out of any faucet or shower head. Papyrus is willing to march over to the next vacant house to wash or drink anything for as long as this takes to play out.
Alphys might get caught up in this one? But all is fair in love and war?? I guess???]
no subject
Out of morbid curiosity, he tries every faucet in the house. He even tries the shower.
He can't even be annoyed that the whole house smells like ketchup gone sour now. That's devotion. That's amazing.
When he's done laughing at the sheer absurdity of it (and finished wiping his phalanges on his jacket, because this is gonna have house-wide repercussions and Papyrus needs to know that), he settles down to devise an adequate counterstrike.
Once the water runs clear again, Sans gets to work adjusting every pressure valve in the house. The kitchen sink now blasts a veritable fountain of high-pressure water onto whatever poor unsuspecting soul turns it on, with no hope of moderation. The bathroom sink yields little more than a sad little trickle.
And the shower seems to only be capable of dousing you in icy cold water in five-second intervals.
Enjoy!]
no subject
With some difficulty, he manages to turn the sink back off and leaves a post-it note marking the sink OUT OF ORDER.
In the night, Papyrus steals all of Sans' clothes, especially his usual hoodie and slippers, and carefully soaks them in the shower. Then, he places all of them in the freezer overnight.
When Sans wakes up, his frozen slippers will be waiting for him at his bedside where he left them. By the time Sans starts looking for the rest of his clothes, they will be waiting for him, folded nicely, on the kitchen table, completely frozen.]
no subject
He spends most of the rest of the day wallpapering every available surface in Papyrus's room with photos of a particularly irritating canine. And if he thinks his technology is safe from the intrusion, he'd better think again - every chime and text tone and ringtone on Papyrus's phone now plays a superbly annoying tune, and every contact in the phone has been replaced with the word "bark."
Have fun with your new friend, Papyrus.]
no subject
It's time for action.
So she texts them both, after she's pretty sure most things are Safe:]
guys
this prank thing has gotten out of hand we need to talk
meet me in the living room?? please???
[She waits there, pacing until they're both settled on the couch.]
Guys, this has been fun, but, uh, I think we're on a fast track to, uh, d-destroying the apartment? And since we all need to live here, I just wanted to say...
[Her hands are in her labcoat pockets. She hits a button. And the tiny levers she has on the ceiling release and douse them both in water balloons.]
T-That it's not over! Hah!
[She raises her tiny fists in victory, and fucking bolts from the room.]
no subject
He still has that silly dog song stuck in his head. It plays as a background as he waits for Sans to get there.
Sans finally arrives, and Papyrus wants to say something, but he lets Alphys speak first, and--
He's soaking wet. The couch is soaking wet. The couch that he actually buried out back a few days ago.
Yeah. This has gotten out of hand. But Papyrus is going to ensure that this tire fire burns until nothing's left behind. No prisoners. The prank war has just begun.
And that's why, the next anyone notices, the entire first floor of the house has been set up in the world's worst obstacle course. Colored yarn stretches from wall to wall, so much yarn that pretty much no one is getting to reach the kitchen (or the front door, for that matter) anytime soon. Papyrus is always willing to sacrifice for the greater good. For victory.]
no subject
Nothing is sacred. Everything and anything goes.
Papyrus's room was first. Alphys's room is next.
So she gets a full treatment of Sans's own poorly-drawn renditions of every piece of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie 2 merchandise he can realistically recreate. She gets "posters" (sheets of butcher paper with crude drawings of the much-maligned characters of the sequel), and "figurines" (paper maché, with a special care put into the cat ears), and, possibly worst of all, she gets a soundbyte of the Mew Mew Kissy Cutie 2 theme song on her phone, somehow. It plays as her alarm five times each morning, and seems to have a couple hidden timers that sets it off at seemingly random and inconvenient times. Every contact has had its name changed to a random character from said sequel, with no indication as to who might be who.
As for the yarn downstairs, well, Sans doesn't mind blipping himself from place to place. And if he gets a little tangled up in it, hey - he's got plenty of experience workin' his way free thanks to bein' up to his eyesockets in debt with Muffet.]
no subject
Thy both need to get hit next. First, she tiptoes in when Sans is asleep and saran-wraps him to his bed. It probably won't inconvenience him very much, but that's only part one. The next part is getting Papyrus to wake him up. So she also leaves a bucket of water above the door- it takes her a few hours to rig the robotics to trigger the dump instead of leaving the door just resting open, and she's very proud- and 'borrows' his phone to leave a text to Papyrus about how he's 'never getting out of bed' and a variety of messages designed to make him storm right in there.
And now. She waits.]
no subject
SAAAAAAANS!!! [Papyrus yells at top volume from the corner of the kitchen he's managed to un-yarn to make breakfast. He switches off the french toast (which is mostly just fried, buttered toast) and struggles against the yarn to reach the stairs. It takes him several minutes of yelling and contorting to reach the next floor. When he finally rushes to Sans' room and bursts inside, he's greeted with a bucket of water being upended on his head, and he screams from surprise.
Okay. He sees Sans saran wrapped to his bed, so obviously it wasn't Sans that was responsible for this.
Alright. So Papyrus later returns the favor, setting a bucket above Alphys' door, this time full of tons of glitter. It's not as fancy as her mechanized bucket trick, but it will do.
Aaand he glues Sans' slippers to the floor for good measure.]
no subject
By the time everything evens out and Papyrus is no longer wholly drenched, Sans finds his slippers glued to the floor, and has to question where this trend of gratuitous slipper abuse has stemmed from. What did slippers ever do to anyone?
He then devotes the rest of the day to a) saran-wrapping everything in Alphys's room (yes, everything) in a low-grade repeat of Papyrus's little Christmas wrapping paper trick, and b) concealing firecracker poppers in every box of dry spaghetti noodles he can find. Dumping any of them in water will yield several loud and satisfying pops as the water bursts cheerfully out from the pot, showering the surrounding area with plenty of uncooked noodles in the process.]
no subject
Fine, fine. If Sans wants to get wrapping, she'll get wrapping. With duct tape. Everything is now taped to the ceiling, including his bed. For Papyrus, however, she knows that kind of drastic action isn't necessary. So instead she changes all his clocks to be an hour late, so he'll be behind to his engagements. It's nefarious.]
no subject
This time, Papyrus goes for more of a gamble on who's going to get hit. He mixes some cheese sauce with water until it looks like some refreshing orange juice and places it in the fridge to be consumed by one or both of the other two.
Then, he empties both of their toothpaste tubes and refills them with vanilla pudding.]
no subject
First of all, vanilla pudding is delicious, so there's no loss there. He spends the rest of the day squeezing the bottle out into his mouth whenever he feels the need for a pick-me-up - and a good thing, too, 'cause that was definitely not orange juice and it's a real good thing he don't have a digestive tract, or he'd be projectile-vomiting into a bucket right about now.
To get back at that souring of their food supply, he spends a little quality time getting to know the workings of the refrigerator by switching the side of the door the handle's on - leaving one or both of them to tug and tug without any result until they figure that the handle's switched sides and open it from the correct, now un-handled side.
Since food seems to be the common theme here, Sans gets to work besmirching the tea supply next. He slits open each and every tea bag they've got on hand, empties the leaves into a jar - no point in wastin' good tea, is there? - and replaces the contents with gravy granules before sealin' them right up again.]
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Thanks to Chara, she now has a wealth of ideas and decides to keep with the food theme, by blowing up a balloon and covering it with icing. It's a cake. It's on the table. Cut a piece if you dare. Or just bite it and have a balloon explode right in your face. Either or!
And just in case nobody gets hit with that, just to be an utter nuisance, she rearranges the contents of the kitchen. Have fun finding the silverware!]
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Papyrus takes out a whole day just to arrange the contents of the kitchen back in place and clean up all the mess from all the food-based pranks. No one is allowed in the kitchen the entire time. It needs a deep cleaning.
The next day, Papyrus works overnight to take out two monsters with one stone. Not that he is actually going to be throwing rocks at them, because that would be cruel and bad. No, what he has done is rig up the entire first floor to be a puzzle, a throwback to the X and O and △ pathway puzzles he had set up outside Snowdin. If you want to get to any specific room, you are going to have to figure out which puzzle to solve and how! Good luck!
Actually, Papyrus isn't sure this counts as a prank? It seems more like he is doing a favor to his housemates. Oh well!]
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He loves you so much he's gonna get you back for this. That suspicious-looking cake isn't even a cake, gosh darn it. That's just cruel.
He doesn't actually put very much effort into his next trick. He just digs up the file of an old virus Hermann cooked up by accident - now with Sans bein' in the proper mindspace to appreciate it, no less - and sends it to the both of 'em anonymously, cunningly disguised as advertisements relevant to their interests. For some thrilling spaghetti recipes, click here! For a download on saving computer energy, download this file!
Don't worry, though. The virus wipes itself out after a hard reboot. But in the meantime, enjoy your Nyan Cat.]
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Alright, now she is going to get serious. For Papyrus, she painstakingly solves the puzzle for his room and shifts everything inside of it just an inch and a half to the left. All of it. For Sans, she's adding to the food theme, and pulls the classic "mayonnaise inside jelly donuts" bit. She even gets to eat one before she messes with them. Fantastic.]
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Sorry, Alph.]