[She shrieks when the bucket hits her, because it douses her and also almost decks her in the face. It is awful. Everything about it is awful. She wears a white lab coat Sans, do you know how hard bleach is to find around here??? JEEZ.]
THAT WAS NOT A DUCK SANS what is it w u and condiments
[She's debating what to hit him with next when she stumbles upon a box of 1000 paper cups, and suddenly she Knows. When Sans enters his room next, every surface in his room is covered in paper cups filled with ketchup- including his bed, so he can't teleport to it. His only option is to eat his way out, which she thinks he'll enjoy until he's about 200 cups in, and then it will be funny.]
[The very worst part is that there's no place to put any of it. He can't just dump the stuff in a bowl and be done with it, no; there's just too gosh-darned much of it arrayed atop every available surface. Even stepping over them isn't an option, 'cause they're all clustered too well close together.
Curse you, brilliant Dr. Alphys. He had to go hunting around for some fries and a couple dozen 'dogs to get through all of it. He gets partially through before giving up and simply clearing off his bed, where he can sleep in the awful stink of ketchup and hot dog water to his nonexistent heart's content.]
you hypocrite. i can't believe you. my "condiments" to the chef.
[What's he got in store next for her? Well, he don't mean to toot his own horn, but that's exactly what he does.
Alphys's desk chair gets an airhorn taped beneath it in exactly the right way so that it utters an obnoxiously loud honk as soon as she sits on it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
THE KETCHUPOCALYPSE
THAT WAS NOT A DUCK SANS
what is it w u and condiments
[She's debating what to hit him with next when she stumbles upon a box of 1000 paper cups, and suddenly she Knows. When Sans enters his room next, every surface in his room is covered in paper cups filled with ketchup- including his bed, so he can't teleport to it. His only option is to eat his way out, which she thinks he'll enjoy until he's about 200 cups in, and then it will be funny.]
the great ketchup war of 2k16
Curse you, brilliant Dr. Alphys. He had to go hunting around for some fries and a couple dozen 'dogs to get through all of it. He gets partially through before giving up and simply clearing off his bed, where he can sleep in the awful stink of ketchup and hot dog water to his nonexistent heart's content.]
you hypocrite.
i can't believe you.
my "condiments" to the chef.
[What's he got in store next for her? Well, he don't mean to toot his own horn, but that's exactly what he does.
Alphys's desk chair gets an airhorn taped beneath it in exactly the right way so that it utters an obnoxiously loud honk as soon as she sits on it.
Guess he is someone toot his own horn after all!]