Liars are not believed even when they speak the truth

Rus the skeleton tended to King Asgore and Queen Toriel's throne room in New Home. It was more of an inside garden, really. Here, only golden flowers covered the ground and were kissed by sunlight beaming through the windows. The Dreemurs' thrones sat in the middle of the garden, perfect for viewing and sipping tea in the afternoon. Rus leaned against a nearby yellow wall briefly, wiping the sweat from his skull. He watered the flowers, planted them, and like anything he can obsess over, applied science to them. In fact, Rus learned about all of the flowers in the Underground since he was but a baby-bones. From Snowdin, an eternal winter village Rus lived in, to New Home, the Underground's distant capital. He only had a single cactus to maintain in the Hotlands. Rus's favorite district was Waterfalls, a tranquil area harmonized by the sounds of rushing water and the whispers of luminous blue echo flowers. It was also the most vacant district, usually used more as a stepping stone to get to other places. Rus liked to think it was his personal district. All in all, being the Royal Gardener was the easiest job in the Underground.

But gardening inevitably became unfathomably, painfully, and stupidly boring. It was a tedious and unfulfilling chore. There were only so many relatable jokes he could make to himself; Hopefully thistle be a better day, I should probably check the thyme and the overused, Gotta put the petal to the metal. Rus was sure his repertoire was getting stale and saturated with his day-time duties. Jokes aside, every day was simply just the same for poor Rus. His juvenile determination for this role had been depleting. When he was younger, he wanted to contribute to the underground in the most effective yet least-effort way possible. Rus's mother, Toriel, had a natural affinity for flowers so it worked out perfectly; likewise, he would have become a snail farmer due to Asgore's influence. Rus desired no more to contribute and belong to the monster community. He was the only skeleton there after all, and no one knew where he originated.

It was a clear, starry night in New Home twenty-one years ago. Rus was a sound-asleep infant wrapped in a simple, white-cloth blanket left at Asgore and Toriel's doorstep. No one had heard anything or saw anything. From then on, the Dreemurrs raised him as if he were their own. The Kingdom reached a consensus that Rus was a gift. He later learned that Toriel and Asgore lost their first child. He never pushed for more details. As doting and accommodating as the goat lords were, it would be an understatement that he stuck out like a sore-thumb in family photos. At an early age Rus understood their differences. Warm fur versus stiff bones, Shiny eyes versus empty sockets. Being so much more alive than Rus could ever be. Often he would get so upset he'd hide under the bed and brood. He recalled Asgore comforting him as a baby-bones, pointing out they both have tails. When Rus would pout and say his coccyx was too tiny, Asgore would heroically reply, "Well, let's make a stop at the re-tail store!"

He fell for it every time. Still, Asgore's impressive word-play was not enough to comfort Rus's uneasy identity. Toriel took on a more assertive approach. The queen sought to ensure that no kid would bully Rus or isolate him for being different. In turn, everyone was genial, agreeing, and unsparing of Rus. If there was a birthday party, he'd be the first invitee. If he didn't like vanilla nice cream, no one liked vanilla nice cream. Rus was never made to feel forgotten or challenged at school. The teachers were no exception; he could do no wrong. They would even "misplace" failing test scores and allow him to retake them under their "supervision". Yes, at school Rus would always be seen with another student and only bring home passing papers. Just the life any kid could want, and any parent to be proud of.

It was all so fake.

Floriculture was considered to be a modest duty, someone of noble status wouldn't do. But now at 21 years old, not only was the job boring but also pointless. As of late, Rus explored comedy and slapstick to connect with his monster folk. Clever jokes turned into improv and improv turned into pranks. His only friend, Doggo, didn't seem to mind though. Rus enjoyed the furry soldier: Doggo was blind as a bat and therefore the best to set whoopee cushion traps on. Although like anything enjoyable, pranking was addicting. Rus set his eyes on bigger and more daring schemes.

Snowdrake, an icey duck with a snowflake for a face, was Rus's most recent target. This monster also loved to make others laugh, more so than the skeleton did. Snowdrake had dreams to do stand-up on the prestigious stage at the NTT Resort, where Napstaton himself hosted concerts. It was easy for Rus to forge a fake letter invitation and deliver it to Snowdrake. That was the first time he used his status for his own benefit. Naturally, the bird was thrilled to be under those spotlights. The night Snowdrake was supposedly invited, he was dismissed right at the front door. While it left him in tears, Rus shrugged it off. It was all fun and games afterall.

Once he was done watering the last bit of flowers, the skeleton rose to his full height of 6'0. Rus twisted off the watering hose before sauntering over to the thrones. He collapsed into Toriel's chair with an audible yawn, a tear pricking at the corner of his eye socket.

A baritone, delightful voice broke Rus's brief peace ."There you are, bud! How's it growing?"

Rus smiled and shut his eyes peacefully. "Done workin', boss. Here to give me an employee review?"

Asgore stood behind the throne and lovingly held Rus's shoulders. "I much prefer dad". Asgore carefully continued, squeezing his son's shoulders as if to prepare them both. "Actually, we've heard about the incident at NTT."

Rus looked up at Asgore now, tilting his chin as it rested in his palm. "Uh…did Napstaton set the place on fire again?" He felt the heavy paws slip away.

His father silently circled around in front of Rus to sit beside him in his own throne. When Asgore was in a no-nonsense mood, Rus couldn't help but feel small. His father was truly a king and his appearance was nothing short of his sovereignty . The goat monster was 8'5 with thick, sharp horns and broad shoulders. Normally soft hearted, Rus knew his father was capable of battle if all other solutions were exhausted. He wondered if there would be a day he would battle the King. Asgore looked gravely at him.

"We know it was you, Papyrus."

With a frown he mocked, "I much prefer Rus."

The king sighed and held up his paws in surrender. "Fair, that's very fair. I'm sorry, Rus." He removed the crown from his head and rested it on his lap. Asgore resumed with considerably less authority in his voice. "We monsters are all individual and unique from each other. Tori thinks my wordplay is funny, and I personally think snails are even funnier."

"Uh huh.." Rus drawled, seeing where this was going. "And I find pranks funny..but you guys don't. Amiright?"

"That is a light way to put it, yes." Asgore chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "But you have to admit, did it not lack a…a punchline? When we heard what happened we could not laugh let alone smile, Rus. "

"Heh, does there needs ta be?" Rus threw his shoulders up in a shrug. "It was a prank. I smiled."

"Pranks are pointing in a false direction and shouting 'made you look', Rus. Your folly on Snowdrake was more of a…devious scheme. Perhaps you should apologize and make amends. That only sounds fair." Asgore offered a gentle and patient smile.

"Fart jokes, the worms in a can–pops–they all get stale." Rus checked his wrist watch. It was NTT branded, and had Napstaton's arms indicating the time. "Just like this job. I don't plan on living and dying for the flowers."

When Rus looked at Asgore, the larger monster's eyebrows were cloud-high and his mouth was agape. Rus hadn't planned on telling his parents he wanted to quit this way. When he remembered how to form words again, Asgore inquired, "W-what do you plan on doing next?"

"Heck if I know." The skeleton rose from the throne and stifled a yawn again. "What I do know is, I'm off the clock and I'm bone-tired. And hungry. Later." In a blip, Rus teleported inside his Snowdin home before Asgore could reply. Not only was this power useful for pulling pranks, but he could also ditch parental interventions with ease.

At the front door to his left was a green, two-seater couch that Rus gratefully plopped his tailbone in. Interior design wasn't really one of his interests. Because of that, there was not much to his humble abode. Other than the couch, the living room only consisted of a flatscreen tv, the tv stand, and an end table on the side of the couch. He collected a few physics, garden, and joke books and sat them there. His proud pile of socks was near the entrance of his small, closed concept kitchen.

"Time to let the dogs out." With indulgence, Rus kicked off his muddy slippers and peeled away his sweaty socks. He then loosely balled them together and chucked them over to the growing mountain of neglected laundry. Dirty clothes were only loaded once a month, and his kitchen suffered similarly. Dishes were stacked in the sink, and the little trash could be visited more often as it overflowed. Upstairs in his bedroom he would have to kick objects away and sleep upon his stained mattress. Sometimes he lit a candle or two. But, as lazy as he was,

We know it was you.

This surface-level indifference stemmed from other areas in his life.

A devious scheme.

Rus's home was a reflection of his soul,

Apologize.

And sometimes it was hard to think straight.

Fortunately, there was something else Rus lit much more than candles. He lifted the cushion seat next to him and retrieved his "spa kit": a shoebox with a glass bong, a water bottle, an NTT lighter, and his favorite flower, the Napsta-float strain. Napstaton was unyielding with his brand. Anything anyone could want, Napstaton would dominate and capitalize on it. The idol claimed he personally uses it to produce his outerworld music. Whatever. Rus was just happy to have a reliable source. Only after filling the bong with water, packing the bowl, and inhaling the soothing smoke did Rus finally relax. As its namesake, he felt as if he floated on a cloud. The skeleton shut his eyes and tilted his head until it rested on the back of the couch and he faced the ceiling. Rus liberally extended himself, long legs outstretched and his arms hooking around the couch as if he had a hot date on either side of him. Rus could see the faces of Asgore, Toriel and Snowdrake melt away from his mind. Any threads of anxiety that wove within his chest from his father's concerns dissipated. Even that ever-incarcerating pit in his stomach was replaced with contentment. Yes.

He did nothing wrong.

Rus had woken up unexpectedly to a call. He fell asleep in the living room again. Groaning and moving out of the undesirable position he slept in, he checked the caller ID. It was Toriel. Rus laid down while selecting the answer key.

"Good morning, Rus! I hoped you had a pleasant sleep last night."

He rubbed his eyes with his arm. "Y'know me, I could always use more. Sup? Flower emergency?"

"Haha, no, Rus. I wanted to tell you there is no need to come in for work today. We repositioned you."

He was suddenly less drowsy. "Huh?"

"We understand that gardening can be limiting for someone as free spirited as you are. And you get bored and uhm, find other fun things to do."

"Yes.." He covered his mouth apprehensively. Asgore relayed their conversation to Toriel, that much is clear. "Uh, what is the gig then..? I kinda figured I'd get to pick it."

"Well it is an honor that you will now be serving in our sentry unit! You will be allocated to the most vital station. The doors to the Ruins."

Now this was just too much. Sentry? Him? A foot soldier? And for the Ruins, no less. Rus was told that before he was born, the Ruins used to be another town where monsters lived and traveled. Albeit it was small and sparsely populated. Only a couple years after he was left at the Dreemurs's doorstep, that very town experienced a deadly, wide-spread explosion. A Froggit soldier managed to escape and warn the king and queen, who immediately sealed the doors to trap whatever caused the devastation. The culprit was unknown, but everyone's biggest fear was it being a human. Rus learned plenty about them in school and their cold-blooded history with monsters. Except for the last two decades no human or monster appeared from the doors. Rus may as well watch paint dry.

"You can't just send me to an off-shore reform school?"

"We are not punishing you, Russy. We see areas that you may not know that you should grow in." Toriel consoled, "Doggo will be visiting later to scoop you up and train you. Please behave and take this seriously."

"Aye-ay." Rus saluted even though she could not see it. They already made up their minds, and any protest would be shut down. He'll just do what he usually does and pun his way out. "I'll get clover it. Love you ma, iris you a good day."

He could hear her chortle, her laughter sounding like bells. "Oh-hahaha! Clover! Instead of over! Oh Rus. But please, behave? I love you too. Will talk again soon."

After hanging up, Rus slipped off the couch and headed upstairs to take a quick shower. He'll dress for the part and participate with Doggo.

However, Rus didn't plan on taking this seriously.

Notes: Thanks for reading! This was fun to finally make, as I had ideas for reimagining this fable since middle school. Woo-whoo! Reviews are appreciated :)