You were equally frustrated and impressed, very much so, at the feat and consequential mess in front of you. Someone had managed to lift one of the machines at the laundromat that you worked at and heaved it across the room; its intended target being another washer. The resulting mess was catastrophic and you had been cleaning it up for the past night and day. You never really knew why a laundromat needed a janitor until now. You only had menial jobs: Dust and wash the washers (heh), clean the windows, maintain the bathrooms, and mop the floor every so often. You guessed that you had to add damage control onto that list. Some of the regulars at this particular laundromat reported a muscular female fish monster entering the building. You recalled that they had said that her name was Undyne or something. Since that was the only creature that matched the requirements of picking up one of the massive machines, you wrote her name down onto the "on-site incident" form. It wasn't much, but hopefully it would stop your new boss from chewing you a new ass...again. For some reason, people associate Mechanic with Janitor, something that baffled you along with the intelligent half of the population. Sadly, your boss assumed that you could somehow remove the totaled laundry machine from the other completely destroyed one, drag the thrown one across the room to its original location, and repair both of them. Fucking both of them! You weren't a wrestler for christ's sake! Nothing you could do about it though. All you could do is stop the torrential waves upon waves of water that were pouring out from the destroyed machines and the hole in the wall where the tossed one was first located.

You had finally managed to seal the broken pipes lying underneath both machines when someone had entered the store. The telltale sound of the conveniently placed bell, hooked rather shoddily to the door of the building, signaled you to warn the incoming visitor of the broken machines and the sopping wet floor. Putting your duck tape on top of one of a dryer unit next to your kneeling form, you slowly stood up. Your back ached in protest from being hunched over for the last several hours. Checking your watch, you confirmed that you had basically pulled an all-nighter to fix the watery mess that was the corner of the laundromat. You sighed at the thought that sleep would be impossible tonight. It often came with the varying hours of work that came up from your occupation. Nothing to be done about it after all since you DID sign up for your field of work. Your terrible insomnia didn't really care for your legitimate reasons and nor did your boss.

You turned towards the door just to be met by an interesting and somewhat intriguing sight. Monsters had been freed from their mountain tomb about a year ago and reports of completely different creatures still continued to plague the news. To be honest, you didn't care. It shouldn't be a surprise to some that there were walking skeletons and humanoid infernos when MAGIC existed. One could practically write everything strange off with the simple response of "Because Magic". Yet, people still broadcasted research reports and personal interviews based off of the inner workings of these new creatures. You just saw them as people with colorful appearances...and magic. That was beside the point anyway for you. Thus, it was quite a surprise to you when you were intrigued by the visage of a bipedal humanoid dog monster wearing a spiked collar and a pink muscle shirt adorned with the image of a dog's face. He, at least you assumed it was a he, gave you the vibe that he just wanted to be pet; his frantic searching with eyes that, upon closer scrutiny, appeared to be slightly dull, gave that away. That served as a warning sign that the monster had impaired vision, if not blind. You couldn't help but wonder if having a Seeing Dog for a Monster Dog was technically legal or not. Well, the question wasn't if it was legal, but if it was moral in Monster Culture.

Casting your thoughts aside, you called out to the monster. You had to get the formalities out first before even thinking about establishing the massive and watery problem in the mind of the visitor. Your boss had made it very clear that your introduction was MUCH more important than any potential health hazard. Normally the attendant would be at their post in the laundromat, but everyone but you was given a break until you and solely you fixed the carnage.

"Hello! Welcome to Mettaton's Laundromat! How may I help you?"

His eyes pinpointed your mouth at such an alarming speed that you couldn't help but yelp slightly in surprise. You were sure that the neck wasn't supposed to turn that fast. What made it even scarier was that despite him looking at you, he was seemingly looking through you. His eyes slowly scanned your area, but didn't exactly lock onto anything. That confirmed your suspicious that his vision must be impaired to some degree. He eventually gave up his search and turned towards the window, somehow tracking the movement of the cars flooring by with his head turning with each pass. His vision continued to confuse you, more so than your estimates of the strength required to lift one of the washers. You spoke out again while slowly treading forward, hopefully to confirm your location to the monster.

"Sir, is something wrong? I can educate you as to how to operate these machi-"

You mentally cursed yourself as you slipped forward on one of the many patches of water left from the machines that had been expelling water profusely. You managed to clip your side on one of the machines while bracing yourself for impact with the ground. Of course, sticking your hands out didn't help since they slipped once they contacted the very slippery floor. The resounding thud of your body slamming into the tiles and your ever so loud "Shit" signaled the Dog Monster that you had fallen and landed mere feet in front of him. He had quickly turned around and watched you keel over like an idiot. You were surprised by his first spoken words to you. Like his appearance, his voice was fairly gruff, but it came off more as a facade than anything else. It was oddly charming, resembling what one would hear come from an old war veteran. Charming? Wait, what?

"OH! There you are! I was wondering where you were." He continued to speak, but his voice had lowered considerably to the point that he was practically mumbling to himself. "I don't like it when things don't move."

He seemed too enveloped in his glee to help you get up, so you slowly but surely pushed yourself off of the ground, being much more mindful of how wet the floor was. Your completely soaked clothes didn't exactly help the situation much either. All it served as was another location to mop up more sodding water. It was official: You weren't going to drink or swim in water for the next month or two; something that sucked since you quite enjoyed swimming in the community pool. Scowling over making yourself look like a fool in front of a random customer, you decided to warn him about how hazardous his surroundings were. Having more than one person slipping and sliding around would be unbearable to you. You could only handle so much before breaking your mop in half and using the broken parts to shatter the legs of your "dear" boss.

"I would be extremely careful with traversing the floor here. I've been cleaning up this blasted water for the past day and the floor is quite slippery. If you need any help, I'll be working a mop around the room. Also, if something breaks, please tell me. I don't want to get fired. My boss has a tendency to blame any on-site failures on the staff."

The dog's excitement didn't seem to fade at your quickly souring mood. Either he didn't detect it or he just didn't care. He quickly nodded at your requests before stumbling around the small building. He called out to you from across the room, causing you to slam your head on the top of a washer unit. Actively swearing, you waited to hear what he had to say. You didn't exactly blame him for your series of unfortunate accidents, but you couldn't stifle the anger rising towards the slightly oblivious monster. You couldn't blame your boss, no sir. The last time someone blamed Mettaton for an accident, they were promptly fired; and since almost all of the businesses located in your district were owned by the robotic monster, one would have to move to a different district to find a job where they weren't harassed by him.

"Just remember to move if you come by!"

Remember to move? You had no flying idea as to what he meant by that. It felt rude to press, however. You assumed that it was just him giving friendly advice as to correct work ethics. You certainly didn't want to press either, since it would just be another thing to do that wasn't organizing the wreckage a certain Undyne had made. It was indeed taking you a while. Most of it, however, had been stopping the endless horde of water that had been making your life a living hell. Or ocean, depending. All that was left was soaking up the lake worth of water plaguing the ground and to somehow find someone who could move that broken machine, because there was no way in hell you could do that. You could possibly go through your contact list to see if you could organize a small team of willing participants who could help push the two hundred and fifty pound laundry machine. Better yet, you could use those same people to search for the fish woman who moved the fucking thing.

Content with how well the duck tape was holding, you searched for your mop. Yet, you turned up with nothing. Engaging in a game of hide and seek with your equipment wasn't high on your To-Do List, so you decided to head to the supply closet which served as your break room and storage. Thankfully, you had been working in the Laundromat for at least two years. It was safe to say that your job was secured at the laundromat. It allowed you to lounge around in the supply closet if you needed a break from work. You refused to smoke, so you usually kept a few books with you when on the job. Walking across the building, you managed to get one hand onto the room's door handle before you heard the monster call you out in need of assistance.

"Hey human, I'm having some...uh, I might need some help with this."

Were you bitter, yes. Putting it lightly, you were royally pissed by the ever increasingly stressful ordeals that continued to assault your day(and prior night). It had first started off with getting the call about destroyed property in the laundromat on the day you had specifically reserved for your break. Only one day a year you could request leave and yet,everything had to happen exactly on that one day that you had selected. It had gotten worse when you found that the laundry machines had been smashed for an entire night, leaving a substantial amount of water on the floor. A day later and you were still working. Thankfully, no one had shown up at laundromat until now. You knew you shouldn't be angry at the monster, but the urge to blame something other than fate, or your boss, for your incredibly shoddy luck was of unbending will.

Putting on your, "I SURE LOVE WORKING ON MY ONLY VACATION DAY" face, you carefully sauntered your way to the puzzled creature. Without your mop, you wouldn't be able to do much other then tread lightly. Turning the corner, you could feel your anger slowly fade at seeing his ordeal. You were glad that you weren't the only person who fate was pissing on. The dog monster was trying, and failing, to pry open the door to the machine. After pawing at it fruitlessly, he kicked it in frustration, resulting in him hissing in pain while massaging his foot...Or were they paws? You didn't exactly know. You couldn't help but find the monster's display of uncanny human-like anger adorable. You would've never suspected a monster to have the same mannerisms as a human. You interrupted his faint whining by putting a hand onto his shoulder. That ended up being a terrible idea, for you had frightened him so much that he started running around the building, screaming about "Being pet by something that wasn't there" or something like that. That served to be endlessly amusing to you. He had knocked over several boxes of purchasable detergent squares (in the shape of Mettaton's face, of course) and smashed into the vending machine that normally sold them. You were sure that if he was human, that impact alone would've rendered him unconscious. Yet, he quickly picked himself back up and continued his frantic running. His ceaseless dashing about revealed your broom, which you couldn't help but smile at. Today might just get better, if things continued to go as they were. You managed to hold in your laughter until he slid across the wet surface and crashed into you. Note to self: Dog monsters weigh more than they appear. His impact broke you, physically and emotionally. Despite being knocked onto your ass for the second time that day, you couldn't be having more fun. The monster had quickly calmed and was slowly eyeing you with concern. You must've sounded demonic, with the amount of laughing and wheezing you were doing. Talk about making excellent first impressions. Getting up, he outstretched his paw towards where he thought you were (missing barely by two feet). He was trying, at least.

"Sorry 'bout that. You appeared out of nowhere and gave me quite the scare...Are you ok? Do you humans normally make this much noise?."

You gladly accepted his paw, after about a minute of you trying to catch your breath. Your rolling around on the ground seemed to confuse the poor dog. You didn't want to be the precedent for his viewpoint of all other humans, but you just couldn't-stop-laughing. You weren't exactly able to see his face or him now. Then again, you couldn't see anything due to the tears. His grip was firm as he pulled you up much too quickly, to the point that you spent another minute trying to regain your balance. Dusting yourself off and smiling more than you had in probably years, you felt like becoming more acquainted with the riot that was the dog monster. It was nice to meet someone who could take your mind off work, even if for a few minutes. You felt slightly bad at being amused by his accidental antics, but not remotely enough to actually apologize. He didn't appear to be offended by your chuckling anyway. It didn't do anything to reduce the faint tightening in your chest.

"Just...wow. I mean, not to stick it to you, but that was absolutely hilarious. Glad to know that I'm not the only one tumbling about here. What's your name anyway?"

He jumped slightly at your voice even though he had just helped you up seconds ago. You seriously needed to ask him about his vision if this became a habit since you weren't too keen on calling in an ambulance for a heart attack case. It wouldn't be the first time either, which scared you slightly. An elderly man had arrived around your third week of ever working at the establishment and promptly keeled over from the sudden noises that the machines produced. One hell of a month for you, for all that's worth. Which, to be honest, wasn't much. Your boss at that time wasn't robotic and actually had reasonable expectations. Sometimes, you swore that his accidental death via falling dryer was fate fucking with you. You wouldn't blame it either. Karma had always been a bi-

"Name's Doggo; yours?"

Oh shit, that's right. Before you were contemplating your life as a janitor for that fuse box on wheels, you were talking to this "Doggo". You really needed to get yourself back on track before he magically discovers that you were socializing on the job. Instinctively forming the work facade and burying your true emotions behind it, you quickly dunked whatever hopes of actually enjoying your job into the trash. Work was work, and you could quit any time you wanted. The hard part was always getting a new one and you've had this one for years. Since your past jobs consist of janitorial duties and...(yeah, that's about it), your chances of getting a decently paying job were slim.

"Oh, I'm _. Not much to it. Now, let's get down to business before-"

You glanced around out of habit, before speaking in a voice much lower in volume. He tilted his head in an undeniably adorable fashion while he leaned in closer to hear you coherently. NO! That was exactly what you weren't supposed to think about on the job. Cleaning was so ingrained into your psyche that you were afraid of what your life would be without it and thinking about how Doggo's collar continued to silently beg you to attach a leash and walk him around town would lead you to said unwanted life experience at a much quicker pace than anything else you could think of. Unless you insulted Mettaton in his face, but that would just be recklessly risking your life. More so than you already were.

"-I'm fired for talking to you. MTT doesn't appreciate his workers talking to anyone when they aren't required to."

Huffing from frustration, you put forth your cheeriest voice and prepared to begin the job of someone else. Doggo's ears had slightly pressed back and he was giving you a sympathetic look. His hand, surprisingly, found its way onto your shoulder. Why, you didn't understand. It wasn't his job to worry about your occupation and all of the drawbacks that came with it. It made you feel slightly guilty that you were even revealing that you disliked your job, even if it was with your body language. Bothering him just felt...wrong. You quickly brought the subject away from yourself and back to work. His problem was work, after all. Truth be told, it was just another excuse to continue talking to the monster and to get your mind off your true work.

"SO! You were having troubles with this machine, yes?"

That returned Doggo back to whatever he was having problems before the entire debacle with the running about. He nodded slightly before frantically signalling at the locked hatch to the washer he was attempting to operate. Didn't he know that it required money to open it and to wash a load of laundry? It was as if he hadn't been to a laundromat before. That's when it hit you: He was a monster who had incredibly impaired vision. Of course he wouldn't know about the laundromat. You don't know which of the two factors was the majority. Giving him an understanding smile, which he immediately focused on for about half a second, you pulled out some gold coins from your wallet. Apparently, someone thought it was a good idea for different districts to have separate forms of established currency. Whoever thought that was a good idea deserved to drown in an ocean of laundry. Not clean laundry, no! You meant Soccer Mom for five levels of laundry.

"So, this is pretty basic, but it'll help you with any future visits. The machines here are coined operated. This district runs off of the Gold Coin form of currency. Two gold coins per load. This particular unit is a washer. The dryer units are located to our left, against the wall. Same cost for those machines as well. I would advise that you be extremely careful, since the noise can be startling and the surrounding ground is covered with several inches of water. We can't have you flying around the room again. That's about it, I think. If you have any more questions, just feel free to yell them out. Does that make sense?"

Doggo gave a quick nod and you, pleased with his understanding, forced the handful of gold coins into his paws. His sputtering about refusing the gold was quickly silenced by your hand clamping his muzzle shut. Giving it a quick pat, you quickly left to begin to mop up the Atlantic Ocean. It was clear that he hadn't brought any money with him beforehand, since you were pretty sure that he didn't carry a wallet. You weren't about to perform a shakedown on his leopard-print pants to see if he was hiding it somewhere. Even if he had, you felt that he deserved the coins for just being a source of entertainment for you. He had not only catapulted you out of your horrendous mood, but he gave you something to think about when you weren't working. What that was, you weren't willing to admit. No way were you about to tell yourself that you were growing fond of the slightly oblivious monster and how absolutely adorable he was. You had only just met him and yet, his antics and how easily they cheered you up certainly was...WASN'T something you would be thinking about for the rest of the day. Nu-uh. No way in hell. Then again, your watery situation reminded you that you were far from hell and his constant nervous chattering about the vibrations of the machine enforced that he wasn't going to leave your mind anytime soon.