[Smells like mistletoe.]
Frisk snickered mischievously as they managed to hang up the mistletoe in the living room. A note hung somewhat lower than the small ornamental plant that read, "If you are below this, you must KISS the other! Haha!" They thought it would bring fun and interesting conversations…
No one was around the house but Sans, who was occupied with sleeping on one of the couches, as everyone was out buying a new tree. It was easy to believe the rest of the Underfolk the human freed would also be out buying a tree, seeing as their tradition would include such a thing.
The child had a random thought as to if Gyftrot is alright. The monster hopefully is if they aren't already doing so.
Frisk was a little concerned for their monster friends, seeing as humans would also be searching for a suitable tree as well. They suddenly knew everything would be alright.
The subject dropped. Frisk waits for the others to come back.
.
.
.
Three hours later.
…
But nobody came.
Frisk started to get a bit nervous at the quietness and went to bother Sans, who was surprisingly not on the couch still. Hearing the sound of the refrigerator door, the human child assumed that the other had gone on a ketchup run again.
They took note to remind Toriel to go shopping again once the group came back.
.
.
.
Frisk called the phone…
Nobody picked up.
Frisk was beginning to get worried and once again looked for Sans. Hopefully he can convince them that the others weren't in any trouble.
On the way to Sans' room down the carpet hallway, however, Frisk suddenly got a phone call… But it wasn't anybody they recognized: the receiver spoke as if there was static or some interfering connection… It warped their words in a way one can't describe…
"G͏r͝e͞et͜ińgs͜."
Frisk was frozen in place, much to their dismay and shock; it was as if the voice's owner was right there in the hallway with them…
"I͢ kno͟w ͢yo͞u,͠ ́b͝u̕t̵ y̢o͡u̕ ̀do͟ no҉t͞ k̀n͏o̸w ̕ḿe. So͞o͝n,͘ we w̢i͞l̛l͡ ͠m̢eȩt ͠f͡áce-t͝o-f̵ac̸e͢. P̷le͟a͏se͜ ͝be̶ ͘p͝re͝par̴ed̀."
(Click…)
The phone shut off, and Frisk promptly stuffed it into their shorts pocket. They have a feeling they won't be sleeping well for a while…
The front door clicks open. Everyone's back home and started trickling in from the door's entrance. Frisk heard Toriel's voice and rushed toward the source.
"Hello? Frisk, Sans, We're back!"
.
.
.
"Oh no." Alphys looked up, and what she expected, she saw. "Is this really happening," she commented, more of a statement than an actual question.
Undyne's confusion only grew the longer she stood under the ornament. "What the HECK is that for?"
It was only after the fish monster read the note did she fully comprehend the situation.
"…Oh."
Frisk quietly chanted "Kiss, kiss, kiss" repeatedly, giving the couple enough courage to actually do so. It was a simple, fast one, but it satisfied the child nonetheless; Alphys was left in a stuttering mess, however, and immediately went over to the couch and screamed into a pillow.
Undyne had a terrifyingly proud grin on her face and turned to the human. They sweat a bit.
"Hey, Frisk! Let's see if we can get any other people to kiss!"
Said child nodded, barely managing to stifle many body-racking giggles. They now had an accomplice on this quest.
.
.
.
Toriel's holiday party started a couple of hours after Frisk's mysterious phone call, and by the time everyone was ready to eat, Undyne and the child had had everyone kiss someone else at least once.
The monster ambassador kept running under the mistletoe playfully every time someone walked under the plant alone, and they successfully got kisses and hugs from everyone –except Napstablook, but the ghost cried a small hat for Frisk as compensation, which was gratefully accepted-.
Frisk smiled at the joy filling the house, feeling a note of satisfaction combined with a dreaminess that could only be felt with close family.
Undyne somehow managed to get Asgore and Toriel under the mistletoe, but there were no real kisses- Toriel just gave a handful of small chocolate candies to the other and walked away with a grumpy blush on her face.
The human was a bit unsatisfied, but Undyne gave Asgore a thumbs-up.
.
.
.
The monsters that were able to bring food to the party were not scarce; the kitchen –where the food was being served in a buffet-line format- was surely not lacking in any deliciously-prepared food. Most of the consumables were in fact of the magic variety, but the Crew was able to convince several monsters to try it as well.
Toriel was able to show off the recent takes on her classic butterscotch pie, with great reviews from children and many of the cleaner folk that managed to stop by. Clean dishes.
Muffet's new recipe sure hit it off with the general populace, much to her delight. No one could tell she added a few extra spiders to the cider than she normally did- except Frisk, who asked what her recipe was shortly after eating half of their donut. The other half was hesitantly eaten, Frisk feeling the texture of the donut more and more with every bite…
.
.
.
As the party activity slowed, the hype and the guest population died down, the human's mind began filling with re-emerged thoughts of the mysterious phone call.
What did the caller want from them? When was this visit from the other due? Was the caller after them for something they did?
What should they prepare for?
…
The more Frisk thought about what happened, the more frightened they got; they immediately went to seek comfort in an energy-drained Toriel's arms.
But the child didn't tell her; they didn't want anyone to know; it might get everyone into trouble.
Maybe, just maybe… It was a mistake. A wrong number.
Like back in Snowdin, when that one person wanted to speak with a person with a name that started with a "G"…
That's it! That's all it was.
A wrong number…
((A/N: Apologies for how broken this was, but I just couldn't think of a good way to keep the atmosphere with blocks of text. Happy early Christmas, everybody! ^w^ (I was debating on if I should submit this today or on the 25th, but I chose today. Just for you.)
Anyway, that was the special. At least it doesn't interfere with the official drabbles, right?
…Right?
Yzxp gl lfi ivtfoziob hxsvwfovw kiltizn. Kolgh? Z srtsob xlmhrwvivw xslrxv. Ru svzwxzmlmh dvivm'g vmlfts…))
