All's Well that Ends Well

"The end!" With a satisfied grin, Papyrus closed his trifold and regarded his friends across the table. "Well, that certainly … went in a few directions. But you did it! You saved Crustymas."

"Yeah, good job, team." Sans materialized from the kitchen with a fresh bag of Popato Chisps in tow and flopped back down on the couch. "Now all the humans love us."

Toriel giggled. "I do not know if we can say that just yet. That would be quite the Crustymas miracle. Er, or would it be a Gyftmas miracle?"

"Miracle all the same," came the salty, chippy response. Papyrus huffed.

"I still can't believe you got up and played out the rest of the boss fight by yelling from the kitchen."

"I broke free of the curse, bro."

"I would've stopped kicking you if you just said something!"

"I broke free of the curse and was hungry, bro."

Frisk laughed. "You did a great job as the narrator, Papyrus. It was like I was actually there."

"Why, thank you! I hope my rendition of the Surface was as true to life as it could be!" He paused. "Wait. My masterful storytelling didn't make you homesick, did it? You aren't going to try to leave us, are you?!"

"What? No way. When it comes to the Surface, I prefer your version—one-hundred-percent."

Relieved, Papyrus sat back in his seat. "That's good. Although, the way things worked out … it was kind of different from how I had planned it…"

"But ain't that the fun part, bro? When stuff happens in the game that not even the narrator expects?"

Toriel clapped her paws together. "And you improvised wonderfully! You certainly lived up to your title of, 'Weaver of the Threads of Fate'."

Faced with three encouraging smiles, Papyrus could do little else but giggle and fidget. "Oh, okay. I suppose it was totally awesome. In fact, I'd say it was even better than the original version. You know, in my first draft, the adventurers had to navigate their way though the Anti-Claus' deadly labyrinth, which was stalked by a terrifying Jani-Taur. Luckily, Hotdoggins carries those advertising fliers, you know, and Jani-Taurs are weak to recycling. And then…"

Outside the cozy abode, the once raging blizzard dwindled to a gentle snowfall. Toriel and Frisk helped the skeleton brothers clean up and then bid their fond farewells. They still had another Gyftmas Eve stop to make that evening. Their next visit was in Waterfall, where the real Undyne had planned a short Gyftmas piano recital with holiday snacks.

"I can hardly wait to tell her about that game," Toriel twittered as she and Frisk stepped out into the chill Snowdin air. "She simply must play it sometime, especially for Papyrus' sake. But, my goodness, was being an Undyne exhausting. I do not know how she does it." But when Frisk didn't respond right away, her excitement turned to worry. "Is something the matter, my child?"

"No, not really." Frisk stopped on the bottom step of the porch and looked back at the house. "It's just … I didn't want to say anything to Papyrus, but the Surface isn't actually like that. Not entirely, I mean. There are students and dentists and stuff, but …"

With a gentle chuckle, Toriel knelt down to adjust their hat and straighten their scarf. "Of course, my child. Do not worry. I know that game was nothing more than a fun little … twist on reality. I will also bet snails to spiders both Sans, and even Papyrus, know that as well." Her ears perked up at the sound of two familiar voices, muffled behind warm wooden walls. "But just listen to those two."

"Hey, so, I'm thinkin', when we go rescue Sir. Fibulot from the DMV, I'm gonna use Hotdoggins. You can … what was the word… retcon him in, right?"

"Of course! As the narrator, I can do just about anything! You liked him that much?"

"Dude is so many levels of awesome. Plus, I think he'd have the advantage there. The place seemed pretty dry."

"For good reason. I will not stop you from going the Hotdoggins route, Sans, but I will warn you: The Government Clerk class—which includes DMV and Post Office Clerks—is immune to all forms of humor. Not even Hotdoggins can make those people laugh."

"Won't know unless we try."

Now Frisk was smiling once again. Toriel took their hand. "Alright, come along. Someone was kind enough to wait for us, so we should not dawdle much longer. Then, it will be a certain someone else's bedtime, and I expect them to brush their teeth until they shine." She winked. "Unless, of course, they want a visit from the Anti-Claus!"

"And let him take those cookies you made? Not a chance!"