Chapter Three: Grillby's
Grillby's, the bar Sans brought Frisk to, was very dark. There were very few people in there, and the ones that were scared Frisk.
A man literally made of fire stood behind the bar.
He was purple, and had a maniacal grin on his face, much like many others in the Underground.
He also had a sleek black suit on with fur around the neck.
"Sans… My least favorite customer…" he greeted slowly.
Sans walked up to the counter and sat on one of the bar chairs.
Frisk felt warmer just being in the bar, so she was thankful for that.
Frisk walked over to the bar, but didn't sit down.
"The seats don't have acid on them," Sans said.
"Yeah, Papyrus said that was slightly overboard, plus, it's bad for business," Grillby said.
"But… I don't have any money," Frisk admitted.
"No loitering, get out," Grillby ordered.
Frisk turned around to leave.
"Grillby, chill out. I'll pay for her food," Sans told Grillby.
Frisk turned back around to see a surprised, and slightly annoyed, Grillby.
"She's working for me, and I can't have a dead employee," Sans lied.
Frisk sat down at the counter.
She picked up a menu, and looked at the options.
Beer
Whiskey
Vodka
Tequila
Mustard
Spiders
Fire
Fuck Off
Burger
Fries
"I don't know what any of these things are…" Frisk muttered.
"She'll have some fries," Sans said.
Frisk put down the menu.
Sans smiled at Frisk, his gold tooth practically glowing.
Frisk smiled back.
She checked the rip on her sweater.
"Shit… There's a rip..." she observed.
"It's not that big of a deal. Don't you see the rips on my jacket?" Sans asked.
Frisk looked at his jacket, seeing all the rips and tears that his worn jacket had accumulated.
She shrugged, unimpressed.
Sans seemed to get pissed off at this.
"You just get off on pissin' people off, don't you?" he asked.
Frisk shrugged again.
She reached down into her boots, remembering something.
She pulled out the kitchen knife she had almost used on Toriel.
"Woah, woah, woah! It's chill, we're all good here," Sans said, scooting back slightly.
"No, idiot, I'm not going to hurt you. I was going to use it for something else," Frisk explained.
Sans sighed, relieved.
He knew what Frisk was capable of, and frankly, he was a little intimidated.
Frisk suddenly began to feel very warm.
"Oh my God… Why is it so damn hot in here!?" Frisk asked.
Sans shrugged.
Frisk sighed.
"Well, at least it'll make it easier to work on my sweater," Frisk said.
"Wait, what?" Sans asked.
Frisk then pulled off her sweater, revealing a red undershirt underneath.
Sans suddenly got a nose bleed.
"Sans. You're bleeding," Frisk pointed out.
Sans wiped his nose.
"Frisk. D-damn. That sweater does not do your body justice," Sans commented.
Frisk's face turned red, and she slapped Sans.
"Pervert," she said.
Sans' face was red, both from blushing and the slap.
"Motherfucker!" he yelled as he was hit.
He held a skeletal hand up to where Frisk slapped him.
"For a girl, you hit pretty damn hard…" Sans said.
Frisk quickly held the knife up, holding it directly in front of Sans' face.
"I WILL hit you again," Frisk threatened.
Frisk looked back at her sweater, putting her knife on the counter.
"I don't have any thread…" Frisk complained.
"I would suggest Muffet, but she doesn't help anybody who doesn't pay her," Sans said.
Grillby finally came back, ending Sans and Frisk's conversation.
Frisk ate one of her fries, immediately smiling afterwards.
"This is so much better than a burnt snail pie," Frisk said enthusiastically.
"Was there ever any doubt?" Grillby asked, offended, but still proud.
Frisk shook her head.
"Hey Grillby, get me a bottle of mustard," Sans said.
"God dammit Sans! I've had to buy two hundred mustard bottles this week!" Grillby complained.
"Yeah, but I'm paying DOUBLE what they're worth, aren't I?" Sans asked, his pupils disappearing.
Grillby ran through the 'Fire Door', and away from Sans.
Sans' left eye glowed red again.
"Why does your eye do that?" Frisk asked.
"It's my overflowing power. I just can't keep it all inside," he said.
Frisk rolled her eyes.
Grillby returned with a bottle of mustard, and handed it to Sans.
"Can I borrow that for a second?" Frisk asked.
Sans reluctantly handed it over.
Frisk squeezed some mustard out of the yellow container, and onto her fries.
"Here you go," Frisk said, handing it back.
"What?" Sans asked, confused.
"I said 'Here you go'," Frisk replied.
Sans was silent, and confused.
"You… actually… returned it? And you didn't use it all?" Grillby asked.
"Why wouldn't I return it? And I didn't use it all because that's rude," Frisk said.
Frisk and Grillby just sat there, confused.
Frisk ate her mustard-covered fries.
When she was done, she left the plate on the bar counter, and took her knife back.
Grillby picked it up and took it behind the Fire Door.
Sans drank his mustard, as if it were a legitimate beverage.
"What the…" Frisk muttered.
Sans noticed her staring.
"What is it, Kitten? Never seen somebody drink mustard before?" he asked.
Frisk shook her head.
She was slightly disgusted, but very intrigued.
"Does that guy you called 'Boss' do that?" Frisk asked, putting air quotes around 'Boss'.
"Nah. He's too busy trying to capture humans," Sans replied.
"Why?" Frisk inquired.
"Didn't Toriel teach you anything?" Sans asked.
Frisk flinched at the name 'Toriel'.
Frisk suddenly felt the burns on her back hurt worse.
She winced in pain.
"I'm gonna go," Frisk said, slipping her sweater back on.
"What? Why?" Sans asked.
Frisk winced in pain again.
"I'm going to get some ice," she answered.
Frisk got up from the stool.
"Thank you for paying for my fries," Frisk thanked.
She walked over, opened the door to Grillby's, and left.