.

Arranging the tablecloth just so, Muffet supervised the spiders placing the treats on her stand. Everything had to look absolutely perfect for the next customer who came by, stomach gnawing and wallet bulging. If they weren't, the spiders responsible would be a part of the next batch.

The monster hummed, stirring the cider for the fifth time this hour. This section of the path across Hotland had been quiet for a good while. She was certain that by now, more people should have been traveling through here on their way to jobs and school. She should know, she's come here so many times to sell her wares. Even if she couldn't get everyone to stop without a little encouragement called spider silk, there would be plenty of faces to smile and wave at by this point in the day.

She looked one way, then the other. No one. She tugged on some of her threads, checking if anyone had gotten trapped out of sight. Still nothing. Was something going on? A quick rundown of the calendar year proved there were no holidays she had forgotten about, that might've caught the public's attention instead. It was only from asking her little workers that she could confirm there were any monsters around at all.

Besides them, and Cupcake, she was alone.

But that wasn't too abnormal, in retrospect. Monsters tended not to wander into a spider's den willingly. It made for some delightfully fun teasing. She wouldn't really have any of them for a meal. That's what her products were for. Cupcake wouldn't either, because they were very well-trained. Yes, it was all in good fun.

She had fun, at least.

Perhaps others weren't fond of her little jokes. Or her little spiders. It certainly wasn't the products they didn't like. They were top of the line, spider-made delights! Delicious, nutritious, and inauspicious! Maybe Cupcake was a bit intimidating after all. Maybe she was too intimidating. Had they found a new path to take that circumvented her stand?

Examining her mixing bowl, Muffet's little fangs nibbled at her lip, and she picked up her spoon. It was probably time to make another batch of spider donuts, and spider croissants. The others hadn't sold yet… They would, though. And she couldn't get behind on product.

Measuring, blending, whipping, kneading, crushing. She moved with an efficiency that comes with years—with decades of practice. This little monster has been around much longer than your average spider, and she's been in this business for so long she could probably concoct these in her sleep, with only one hand, eyes closed. With this becoming her livelihood, and the sometimes cutthroat nature of business, this sort of expertise was mandatory. It was this very fact that made her come to the conclusion that she couldn't escape the silence that surrounded her, no matter how loud she worked. And it was frustrating.

Were her goods no longer appetizing? Were those odd faces monsters made once they learned of the real spiders in the recipes a sign? She had thought that wouldn't matter once they'd gotten a taste, but non-spider monsters were so very strange when it came to food. They would eat snail pie but not spider donuts? Tea brewed with kelp and saltwater of all things, but not spider cider?

She knew that the MTT Resort literally put sequins and glitter in their Glamburgers—and there was a shop that sold things scrounged up from dumpsters!

She came out of her thoughts and realized she had crushed too many spiders for this batch. Measuring out what she didn't need, she sighed at the rookie mistake. Perhaps she should make some more cider as well.

Her frustrations were mounting the longer the path remained deserted. She had thought she was providing the community a service, one that would help her get the funds she needed to save the rest of her kin stuck in the Ruins. There was the advertising she'd done—that should've gotten more attention to her stand. The prices might be a little steep, but her recipes were unique, and it was going to a good cause. As it was, making the product cut into the profits, meaning she had to sell more to reach her goal. And if monsters were losing interest…

Maybe her treats just weren't good enough anymore. Maybe she wasn't good enough anymore. Maybe no one wanted what she had to offer, because they had moved on to find better things.

...No. She couldn't afford to think like that. Literally, she couldn't.

She just had to market herself better.

The spiders watched her toil in the dry heat of Hotland, all of their beady eyes focused on catching even a millisecond of weakness so that they could help her. With all of them so light of foot, the only noises came from her utensils, and the occasional grumble from Cupcake. And all the while, Muffet told herself that she was too old to be lonely.

.

I am interested in writing some more little things like this, about the various characters in Undertale. (And maybe some of the AUs as well.) If you have any suggestions, feel free to drop them in at thatdragonsdrabbles, my writing tumblr.

-Dragon