Boned

Nutshell a in genocide

(Screw the shitty names I can't be damned to keep doing those)

Frisk sat alert at the edge of their bed, their fingers digging into the cloth and slightly swaying their head. It had been three weeks since they had freed the monsters from the underground. Everything seemed great. Toriel had her very own inter-species school, and her and Asgore had rekindled their friendship. Undyne spent every waking minute with her girlfriend, Alphys. She also became the first monster police officer. Alphys worked in a lab alongside humans, and together they made the world a better place. Papyrus had gotten the car of his dreams, and Sans... well, Sans was his same, mysterious self.

A question had been tapping away at Frisk's mind, constantly barging into their thinking every chance it could.

What would've happened if they killed?

The soft glow of the RESET button illuminated Frisk's face.

It wouldn't hurt to find out.

¤¤¤

Frisk was back in the underground. They skipped over Flowey's bullshit, playing dumb and running into the bullets.

Goat milf slid over, much like a man would slide into them DMs.

"My chi-"

Frisk furiously pounded the X and Z buttons, skipping through the regular dialogue.

Leaving Frisk alone in the Ruins was the worst mistake Toriel would ever make. As soon as she was gone, Frisk was running around, looking for monsters to kill.

Might as well kill them all while I'm at it, thought Frisk.

They decided to do all of their grinding in the same room, resulting in only Froggit and Whimsum encounters.

"Kermit-lookin muthafucka," Frisk whispered as they dusted a Froggit.

After what seemed like hours (probably was hours, takes fuckin forever), all the monsters in the area were dead. Some spooky-ass music played. It sounded like someone smashed their face on a piano and made the noted reeeaaaaalllly slow.

Frisk walked through the empty Ruins, occasionally singing "Sweatshirt" under their breath in order to scare away any other monsters. Nobody wanted to hear that shit.

¤¤¤

After talking to Toriel, Frisk had persuaded her to fight them. Frisk wondered how Toriel didn't notice the extensive amounts of dust covering their sweater.

"My, how long did you stand around?" She had said.

Toriel, you dense MOTHERFUCKER.

Frisk, weilding their plastic knife, took a swing at Toriel. Wait a minute, what the hell? That did a shit ton of damage! Frisk just killed a woman with a plastic knife! Screw the choking hazards, plastic knifes are the real enemies.

As Toriel turned to dust, a small white soul appeared. Frisk, you little shit! Grab that thing! Oh, you're just gonna stand there? Alright.

Frisk moved on. Flowey said a dumb thing that they ignored. Whatever.

They left the Ruins and met up with the monster, the myth, the legend:

Paul Blart: Mall Cop.

Wait, never mind.

Sans the Fuckboi.

But wait. All the signs point to it... they both have a badge, and they both have some sort of machine...

Is Sans...

No...

SANS IS NES-

<take 2>

SANS IS PAUL BLART: MALL COP.

But hey, that's just a theory,

A GAME THEORY

THANKS FOR READING.

TO BE CONTINUED...