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Feb. 4th, 2018 04:02 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sansational posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
castle_perrault Sans tries to be the sort of guy who never lets an opportunity pass him by. That hasn't always been the case, but call it a New Year's resolution, if you will. Even if it's a resolution he's had to make a few different times.
The castle is full of new people. Well, not technically new, but a lot of them probably think they're new right now and that counts for about the same. Which means the castle is probably full of nervous, scared people - nervous, scared kids. And that just won't do. Sans thinks a lot about what he can do to liven the place up a bit in a way that won't rely on the castles often capricious magic - to help people feel at home.
Sometimes, old material is the best material.
He spends an evening shortcutting back and forth between the kitchen and the tunnels underground, ferrying water sausages from the former to the latter so they can be brought into happy conjunction with some buns. The next day, Sans sets up a small table outside, and on that table he haphazardly piles what look for all the world to be hot dogs. In his opinion, in the opinion of most of the Underground, that's exactly what they are. But be careful if you bite into one - they're actually cattail plants. The Underground doesn't know hot dogs as anything else.
Next to the table, Sans sets a sign messily painted on a piece of posterboard. A few small, stray skeletal fingerprints are a testement to Serif's assistance earlier.
hot dogs: 1 joke
hot cats: 1 pun
ketchup costs extra.
Sans, for his part, settles into the chair behind the table for a nap in the sun. Don't think that means you can try sneaking off with the merchandise, though. He'll come awake whenever anyone draws near.
"hot dog for your thoughts? or, uh, preferably your jokes?"
The castle is full of new people. Well, not technically new, but a lot of them probably think they're new right now and that counts for about the same. Which means the castle is probably full of nervous, scared people - nervous, scared kids. And that just won't do. Sans thinks a lot about what he can do to liven the place up a bit in a way that won't rely on the castles often capricious magic - to help people feel at home.
Sometimes, old material is the best material.
He spends an evening shortcutting back and forth between the kitchen and the tunnels underground, ferrying water sausages from the former to the latter so they can be brought into happy conjunction with some buns. The next day, Sans sets up a small table outside, and on that table he haphazardly piles what look for all the world to be hot dogs. In his opinion, in the opinion of most of the Underground, that's exactly what they are. But be careful if you bite into one - they're actually cattail plants. The Underground doesn't know hot dogs as anything else.
Next to the table, Sans sets a sign messily painted on a piece of posterboard. A few small, stray skeletal fingerprints are a testement to Serif's assistance earlier.
hot dogs: 1 joke
hot cats: 1 pun
ketchup costs extra.
Sans, for his part, settles into the chair behind the table for a nap in the sun. Don't think that means you can try sneaking off with the merchandise, though. He'll come awake whenever anyone draws near.
"hot dog for your thoughts? or, uh, preferably your jokes?"