Work Text:
September 6, 207X
When Sans was about to bite into his lunch hotdog, his mother and his younger brother slapped a poster on the table.
Papyrus, the greatest brother in the universe, proclaimed: “WE’VE ENTERED YOU INTO A COMPETITION! NYEH HEH HEH!”
Helvetica, his beautiful bone of a mother, was swooning for some reason: “At last, the world will appreciate the wonderful charm of my darling boy~! Nye hee hee.”
Sans looked down at the poster. It read:
‘The Ultimate Sexyman Pageant’
He looked at his brother. Then, he switched to his mother. Brother. Mother. Brother. Back and forth a few more times. He slowly chomped down on the hotdog, chewed it for a good bit, then swallowed the contents without so much as a blink.
“When is it?” asked Sans.
“TOMORROW.”
“Okay. Welp, that’s a short notice. Did you get permission from Thymer for this? Being on the wrong end of Dracula’s herbal stick ain’t a good thing. Boss man’s scary, y’know.”
“OF COURSE WE DID!” Papyrus proclaimed. “WE’RE NOT SO FOOLISH TO REPEAT UNCLE GASTER’S MISTAKE.”
Dumbfounded, Sans proceeded to ask: “How… did he react?”
In which he answered, “WITH THE MOST DEADPAN ‘WHY’ YOU COULD EVER IMAGINE.”
Helvetica quickly added, “After the initial shock, he became much more receptive to the idea. We reasoned that the more people focus on your popular image, the less likely they’ll be inclined to believe your real job. Y’know, build on the old fool’s foolishness to perpetuate your cover as a fool.”
Sans started sweating. “Mom. Paps. No offence but won’t that backfire? I mean, the whole world now thinks I’m some kind of real life secret boss. It took that ‘video game exaggeration’ disclaimer to save my butt by a narrow margin.”
“A VERY NARROW MARGIN, INDEED. I DO REMEMBER SOMEBODY COSPLAYED AS YOU IN THAT ULTIMATE VR VIDEO GAME CROSSOVER BATTLE EVENT. AND THAT’S EXACTLY WHY WE NEED TO FURTHER BUILD YOUR IMAGE AS A HARMLESS MEMETASTIC LAZYBONES JOKESTER WITH A TERRIBLE SENSE OF HUMOUR!”
“Dear, you were already infamous in all the wrong circles long before Gaster did his Gaster thing. Those in the know would be too afraid to mess with you no matter what.”
There didn’t seem to be any way to escape the clutches of two enthusiastic family members. But, where was the harm? Considering human tastes, it wasn’t likely that he’d ever get past the qualifying rounds either way.
“Alright, alright.” Sans sighed with a grin. “I’ll go. At the very least, it’ll make you two happy.”
* * *
September 7, 207X
Sans did the absolute bare minimum for the competition, expecting to lose in the first round. And yet, he continued to win. All he did was stand around being his dumpy self, hiding any aspect of himself that the humans would consider ‘cool’.
He even brought his pink slippers along specifically for on-stage. Off-stage, he had to switch into his sneakers. Apparently, the premise banned his ridiculous fashion of choice after numerous cosplayers went slipping, sliding, and tumbling across the floor, injuring themselves in the process.
Before he knew it, he found himself in the quarter-finals, the semi-finals, then on to the final-finals.
Guess people love a joke vote, huh?
In preparation for the last round, the organisers had him wait backstage in one of the make-up chambers, which often doubled as waiting rooms for events like these.
Out of curiosity, Sans used his phone to check the program’s polls for more information on his competitor. He wondered: what sort of man decided to join this absurd event?
Hm? Looks like some eccentric fellow from the Far East. Hair dyed light brown, a neat grey suit, average looks, typical unpronounceable name, absolutely forgettable…
He decided to tap on the rival’s profile picture to read more details.
…He runs a private consultation office, specialising in exorcising evil spirits. Apparently, the bloke already won first place for ‘Ultimate DILF’ and ‘Ultimate Twink’. He swept the amateur modelling world by storm, and now he’s gunning for ‘Ultimate Sexyman’.
Feeling a bit thirsty, Sans left his room to get a drink from the water cooler. As he walked back, he saw Mister Competitor himself pass by. One glance at the actual guy was enough to see the truth.
I can’t sense a single bit of magical potential from him. In other words, he’s a conman. A fake. A fraud. A charlatan. And a deceiver. It won’t surprise me if he tricked his way up to the finals. Aiming for the cold, hard cash huh? I doubt he won the previous titles fair and square.
If I remember my human politics right, competitions and award shows are often half-rigged. The contestants would be hand-picked well in advance by agencies, sponsors, and modelling companies. They’re more of a promotion gig for the investors. Competitions that run on true merit are few and far between.
Considering how an average conman and my bony self ended up in the finals, it may be the public’s way of throwing a wrench into the works. Make their voices heard, no matter how silly it gets.
The big moment had arrived: it was time to get on the stage.
The final round would be decided by a combination of live audience votes with an online poll. This event was broadcast on both the internet and television, as the humans had done for over 50 years.
Mister Competitor was giving it his all, impressing the crowd with all sorts of overtly fancy expressive hand gestures and his commendable command of the English language. Somehow he made himself perfectly understandable despite the stilted speech, able to answer most of the questions asked by the MC.
In the coolest yet cringiest poses, he announced: “I’m here to show people that ‘sexiness’ is not something you are born with. After all, you don’t need to be a dad to be a ‘dirufu’, and you don’t need to be young to be a ‘twinku’. Everyone is not special, so you can be who you want to be! It’s all about effort! Confidence! Determination! You got to feel your satisfaction, that is what it means to be ‘sexay’!”
The crowd cheered along with his motto: ‘Get ready, wake your psyche up! Get ready, wake your psyche up!’
Hmm, I guess if his gig is to act as an awkward yet competent tryhard, then he’s nailing it.
The competitor’s efforts paid off. Most of the viewing audience chose to cast their votes on the foreign man without a second thought.
Meanwhile, the skeleton saw his family sitting on the front row seat of the auditorium. Times Roman, his funny father, joined his wife Helvetica for the occasion. The loving parents held their hands together, distraught about the perceived humiliation their elder son was going to endure.
As for Papyrus, their younger son, he had the hardest time staying still. The bones on his body rattled, taking every bit of willpower to keep his mouth shut.
…Back in the Underground, the old Papyrus would have already cried out ‘stop being such a lazybones, Sans!’. But times have changed, and he knows better now.
In the middle of his thoughts, Sans heard the following yell from the side:
“SORUTOSU SUPURASSHU!”
Right after that, he had a handful of salt tossed right into his face. What followed after was an awkward silence hanging precariously in the air.
Fortunately I already knew he was a conman exorcist. That could have been powdered glass, poison, or worse. I would have to put my dodging skills to use.
Dusting the grains of salt off his being, Sans said: “Hate to burst your bubble, but I’m not an evil spirit. I’m a skeleton. I got too much salt in my bones as is.”
“N-nani?” the competitor blurted. “But, you… uh… nande kore wa?”
“It’s complicated. Try not to think too hard. I understand why you got spooked, though. If you looked like my insides, I’d find you creepy too.”
Putting up a faux kung-fu stance, he challenged Sans: “You versus my special exorcist moves! Letsu go!!”
Sans immediately answered: “Nope.”
“How about three rounds?”
“Nah.”
“Two?”
“Na-uh.”
“One, please?”
“No.”
Frustrated, the man decided to ignore Sans, focusing on winning the crowd’s hearts once again.
“Remember, you are all the protagonists of your own lives!”
Over the next few precious minutes, his votes continued to rise while Sans’ numbers stagnated. Steadily but surely, the event came to a close…
Sorry fam. Looks like this is as far as a joke vote can go. It’s been fun while it lasted.
Just when he was about to let everything go, the MC pointed the microphone towards him.
“Sans Undertale,” the MC said, “The crowd is curious about your, uh, ‘non-performance’. It appears that you’ve decided from the very beginning to just stand on the stage silently. Why did you choose such an unusual approach?”
Sans decided that a little explanation couldn’t hurt while he’s losing. At the very least, it would put his folks at ease.
In his most casual tone, he replied: “‘Cause I got nothing to prove, really.”
“Does that mean you don’t have anything to show us?”
“Nah. It’s not that. More like… Whatever I can do, I’ve already done for the people closest to me. I don’t feel the need to show those skills off to an audience.”
“Then, why did you join The Ultimate Sexyman Pageant?”
“To make my family happy, of course. They took the time and effort to register me into this competition. Can’t break their hearts by turning them down at the last minute, can I? That would be a waste of their hard work. So, I figured that I might as well have some fun on stage. Who knew I’d get this far? Thanks for your kind votes.”
The crowd chattered amongst themselves. Some of the women were even sobbing, seemingly touched by his humble tale.
Not long after, Sans’ votes started skyrocketing. He broke a sweat from the sheer volume of numbers pouring in.
Crap. Did I slip my tongue??? The humans are going nuts. I thought only monsters could get swept up by speeches alone…
Mister Competitor dropped his jaw. All that hard work, those towering percentages… shrinking down at the very last minute.
Shrugging, the lazy skeleton merely responded: “Sorry bud. I didn’t plan for this either.”
The battle of the ballots spiralled out of control into an absolute frenzy. The on-screen graph see-sawed between the two contestants, with each voting camp trying their darndest to outdo the other.
Glancing back at the audience, Sans saw his entire family had their eyes wide open, sparkling and beaming with hope for a turnabout victory.
Then the timer hit zero and the final results were in. Out of a total of 244,809 votes, 50.1% had voted in his favour.
And so, ‘Sans Undertale’ was crowned as ‘The Ultimate Sexyman’. A victory fanfare played in his honour as the spotlights shone down on him. Sans raised his arm to shield his eyes from the glare.
Talk about a close shave…
A skeleton titled ‘The Ultimate Sexyman’... Heh. Now that’s a joke!
However, at the height of celebration, a defiant voice echoed in the air.
“I REFUSE!!!”
That didn’t belong to the conman. First off, it was a woman’s voice. Secondly, the English pronunciation was way too fluent. Sans switched into high alert, scanning through the crowds for the source of the animosity.
Where?
Where is it?
Far at the back of the audience, a dark red cloud swirled around a dishevelled woman. It formed into the vague shadow of an elegant lady, wearing fancy clothes from a long bygone era.
She continued to shriek with a ghastly distortion. Lights flickered as her rage increased.
“YOU…! CURSE YOU, FLESHLESS FIEND! YOU ARE AN INSULT TO BEAUTY! A BLEMISH! A ROT!”
“HOW CAN YOU IGNORE THAT YOUTHFUL FACE? THAT CHARMING SPARKLE? THAT DASHING SMILE? THE ORIENTAL MAN OWNS IT ALL!”
“I WILL MAKE HIM THE SEXIEST, EVEN IF I HAVE TO KILL YOU--”
The conman proceeded to lob an entire bag of salt towards the possessed victim, yelling something about a ‘SAIKYO NO SORUTOSU SUPURASSHU!!!’
To Sans’ greatest astonishment, the festering corruption exploded upon the bag’s exact impact. The shadow dissipated, the lights stabilised, and the air returned to normal stillness.
As for the freed woman, she sat down on the floor covered in salt, confused about what had transpired. Medics checked up on her to make sure she was in good health.
With the event saved, the whole auditorium burst into cheers for their apparent hero.
That attack definitely did not come from the conman… I sensed magic. There’s a mage somewhere in this room.
The faint traces led Sans to a plain, unassuming boy, sporting a Far Eastern middle-school uniform and a dorky bowl-cut. Remnants of a shimmering prismatic power faded away before anyone else could see. That is, if they could perceive it to begin with.
Interesting. Another Frisk…
Eh, a wrap’s a wrap. I’m glad I didn’t need to take any action. That would have been a massive can of worms I’d rather not open.
Man, I can’t wait to go home and catch a break.
Sans spent most of his post-event time signing autographs for his new wave of fans. Then, backstage, he had to repeat the process for all kinds of legal documents. Tax documents, confirmation of transfers, modelling contract, and whatever other red tape they had. It wasn’t like the cartoons where he could walk away with a big bag of money.
The agents were quite excited for their future cooperation. Other monsters from Ebott had applied for modelling work before, but Sans would be their first skeleton.
Papyrus never tried, huh? Pretty strange since he used to be such a glory hog. I thought he at least would have given it a go within the first few weeks on The Surface.
…Heh. Guess I underestimated him again.
Once everything was done, it was time to meet up with the rest of the family. Sans was expecting many hugs, kisses, and applause. Yet… he was met with guilty awkwardness instead.
Raising his eyebrow, Sans asked: “Something happened?”
Times Roman, with his calmer Papyrus-like face, answered: “The three of us had a talk and… well… we would like to apologise for not asking for your permission first.”
“How are you involved in this, Dad? As far as I know, Paps and Mom were the ones who dropped the pageant on me.”
“You see, I was the one who found it first. It was an amusing little thing and I figured that your mother would appreciate the potential stage comedy. Your brother was there too and… the rest is history.”
“Oh. Heh. No worries, everyone. I’m fine. Used to be a stand-up comedian on the side, y’know. Standing in the spotlight is nothing new for me.”
“But dear…” Helvetica said, “Don’t you think that the rest of us tried to relive the popular stage experience through you?”
“Whoa there, getting a bit psychological there. Never crossed my mind. If I truly didn’t want to participate, I would have just noped out, like I did with that silly conman. So, you’re all good. None of you tried to blackmail or guilt-trip me, really.”
Tearing up a little in his eyes, Papyrus blurted out: “UGH, WHY DO YOU HAVE TO ACT SO COOL NOW WHEN THERE’S NO AUDIENCE TO APPRECIATE YOU!”
“I have my audience.” Sans lightly bumped his fist on Papyrus’ chest. “Right here, with Mom, Dad, and you.”
“NYEEEEEEEEEHH! THAT JUST MAKES ME FEEL BOTH DELIGHTED AND ANNOYED AT THE SAME TIME!”
“Heh heh heh. C’mon Paps, let’s go home.”
The four of them started making their way back. They hopped into Papyrus’ car, with its owner handling the wheel, Sans sitting shotgun, and the parents taking the back seat together.
“STRAP TIGHT, I’M TAKING OFF!”
Once everybody buckled up, Papyrus pressed a button on the dashboard to unfold the roof as well as the flight fins. He then used his magic to lift the convertible off the ground. A blue light flashed across the red body of the car as it zipped towards the sky. He made sure to rise high above the majority of the city’s skyscrapers and electrical towers. At cruising speed, they should be home in half an hour.
“OH BY THE WAY, BROTHER,” said Papyrus, “WE MANAGED TO TALK TO YOUR RIVAL’S STUDENT! THANK GOODNESS ALPHYS MADE A GREAT TRANSLATING PROGRAM FOR FAR EASTERN LANGUAGES. CONVERSING WOULD HAVE BEEN INCREDIBLY INCONVENIENT OTHERWISE.”
“His student, you say?”
“YES! HE’S A BOY WITH A VERY NEAT HAIRCUT. LOOKS ABOUT 14 OR 15 HUMAN YEARS OLD. OH, AND HE HAS MAGIC TOO! BUT FOR SOME REASON, HE DIDN’T CALL IT MAGIC. INSTEAD, HE CALLED IT ‘PSYCHIC POWERS’. MUST BE REGION-SPECIFIC TERMINOLOGY.”
Dear mother joined in the conversation, “I bet he’s a Blue Major! His skill with telekinesis is on par with The Great Papyrus.”
Papyrus shook his head. “I DON’T THINK SO, MOM. TO BE HONEST… HE’S WAY MORE POWERFUL THAN ME. IT’S CLOSER TO FRISK, EXCEPT HIS PERSONALITY IS THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE.”
Roman added, “The opposite of our spunky Ambassador, alright! By comparison, the boy was super shy. He barely spoke and stood as still as a statue.”
“BUT THEN I -- THE GREAT PAPYRUS -- COAXED HIM OUT OF HIS SHELL BY DEMONSTRATING SOME OF MY LESSER YET TOTALLY AWESOME SKILLS! IT ALSO HELPED THAT DAD AND I LOOK SO ALIKE. OUR SIMILARITIES MADE A GREAT ICEBREAKING TOPIC.”
“We told him that magic is normal for us monsters. The boy and Papyrus then had fun manipulating orbs of water together.”
“It was an adorable sight.” Helvetica interjected, “After that, he really opened up.”
Leaning against his seat, Sans made himself comfortable. “Tell me more. What else did you two talk about?”
“AH, HE SHARED A STORY OF HOW HE MET HIS MASTER. WHEN THE BOY WAS AN EVEN SMALLER BOY, HE HAD TROUBLE CONTROLLING HIS MAGIC. SCARED OF HIS OWN POWER, HE TOOK THE EASIEST PATH, WHICH WAS TO BOTTLE EVERYTHING UP EMOTIONALLY.”
“That’s a recipe for disaster.”
“INDEED! BUT ONE DAY, HE FOUND A CONSULTATION OFFICE THAT WOULD LEND AN EAR. THEY TALKED FOR A BIT, AND THE BOY GAINED THE GREATEST INSIGHT IN HIS LIFE. ‘JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE PSYCHIC POWERS, IT DOESN’T MAKE YOU ANY LESS HUMAN. PSYCHIC POWERS ARE JUST ANOTHER CHARACTERISTIC. YOU MUST EMBRACE THAT CHARACTERISTIC AS A PART OF YOURSELF AND CONTINUE TO LIVE POSITIVELY’. SINCE THEN, THOSE TWO HAVE HAD A MASTER-STUDENT BOND!”
“Hmmm, I see how that makes sense. Sometimes being special sets up all kinds of crazy burdens. Hence: ‘Nobody is born special, so you can be who you want to be’.”
“CORRECT! EVEN WITH ALL THAT MAGIC, HE’S JUST A NORMAL BOY WITH NORMAL GROWING PAINS.”
“So… I guess I know how they perform their exorcisms safely now. The master does his song and dance of distractions, while the student would nuke the threat off the face of the earth.”
“WONDERFUL TEAMWORK, DON’T YOU THINK?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. There are a lot of nuances about their relationship that we don’t understand yet.”
“WELL, THAT’S UP TO THEM TO SORT OUT.” After a brief pause, Papyrus’ eyes lit up with delight. “I ALMOST FORGOT! SANS, THAT BOY VOTED FOR YOU!”
Sans pointed to himself. “M-me? Seriously? Why would he do that?”
“I OVERHEARD WHAT HE SAID RIGHT BEFORE I SAID HELLO. TO QUOTE: ‘I WANT SHISHOU TO HAVE TRUE SELF-CONFIDENCE, AND NOT RELY ON WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK. SANZU-SAN HAD THE RIGHT IDEA. SO, I GAVE HIM MY VOTE’.”
‘Shishou’ was the word for ‘Master’. In other words, the student had accidentally schooled his own master with his innocent yet wise outlook on life.
Sans burst into an infectious guffaw. Soon, the others started laughing too. Whenever any one of them wanted to speak, their funny bone denied anything more than an incomprehensible babble.
The flying car echoed their burst of jolliness, rolling across the air with sharp lifts, dives, barrel rolls, and backflips. Magic was the way monsters expressed themselves after all.
Papyrus had to force control over his heart lest they might crash. “P-PLEASE STOP, I NEED MY FLYING SKILLS INTACT!”
It took a while, but the occupants eventually calmed down.
Sans sighed in contentment. “Man, that was some stellar divine comedy right there.”
“BROTHER,” Papyrus smiled, “OUR FIRST YEAR ON THE SURFACE WAS QUITE A HELLISH ORDEAL! I’M GLAD YOU CAN LAUGH EASIER NOWADAYS.”
“And so are we!” The parents couldn’t help but add.
Gazing out of the car’s window, the shorter skeleton watched the sun’s rays shine between the clouds. “I am too. We had it rough, but these heavenly moments make it all worthwhile. I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.”
“SANS…”
Before Papyrus burst into heartfelt tears again, the elder brother changed subjects. “Come to think of it, the anniversary of our freedom is around the corner. September 15. So, what do we wanna do this year?--”
Sans felt his phone buzz twice in his pocket, a sign that it came from his job. His face turned serious after reading the contents. “…Thymer has a mission. I gotta report by 9PM.”
“DID HE CALL FOR ME TOO?” asked Papyrus. “I CAN’T CHECK MY PHONE WHILE FLYING.”
“Not for this one. Thymer wants you to stay in Ebott to help Frisk, right?”
Saddened, his father asked, “How long would you be gone, son?”
“Two weeks, if there are no complications. Sorry. Looks like I may not be around for the festivities.”
Papyrus squinted at the mention of time. “WHAT ABOUT THE MODELLING CONTRACT? YOU NEED TO MAINTAIN YOUR COVER SOMEHOW.”
“That’s next month. No biggie. Also, I could always reschedule if I have to. Worst comes to worst, I’ll just terminate the contract.”
“Can’t you decline the mission?” Helvetica clasped her hands, hoping for a different outcome. “I’m sure he’ll give you an allowance for our national holiday. Underneath that perpetual grump is a gracious heart.”
“I want to do this.”
That was all the family needed to hear. If the laziest lazybone of Ebott wanted to actually do something, anything, then no one could stop him.
Papyrus offered: “SHOULD I DRIVE YOU TO OUR WORKPLACE?”
“Sure,” Sans’ mood lightened up a tad. “Much appreciated.”
“ANYTHING FOR MY COOLEST BROTHER, NYEH HEH HEH!”
The car slowly descended. Papyrus landed it on an empty spot on the highway leading back to the human city and proceeded to drive on the road.
“Huh? You’re not flying there?”
“I DID SAY I WOULD ‘DRIVE’, NOT ‘FLY’. I’M GOING TO INTENTIONALLY DRAG OUT OUR FAMILY TRIP FOR AS LONG AS I CAN! NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH HEEEEEEH!!!”
“Welp, sounds like my baby bro learned a few tricks from his big brother. I couldn't be more proud.”
* * *
September 8, 207X
The Eastern boy packed the last of his clothes in the luggage, ready to travel back to his homeland.
“Shishou,” he said, “Are you alright?”
Judging from how he laid his head on the table on top of a rough accounting draft, the answer would be ‘no’. “How could you not vote for me? I’m your Shishou and your boss…”
“It’s been over 24 hours, Shishou. You should have settled your emotions by now. Please let it go.”
The master jolted straight up in his chair, crying out: “How can I??? Think of the money! The second prize only covers our travel expenses! We won’t have any extra to take back home. Damn… I thought we could finally fill the office coffers after all of this.”
“But we had fun, right? We got to experience a whole new country. I know I wouldn’t have dared to travel halfway across the world otherwise.”
“…Yeah, we did.” He puffed his chest in confidence. “With that impromptu exorcism, we now have official proof of our worldwide expertise! North, South, East, West, there are no ghosts we can’t handle! International clients should be pouring into our office very soon. I can already imagine all the money we’ll be making!”
“Can we come back here in the future, Shishou? I want to visit the monster town some day.”
“Really? You want to go there? That is where your new tall skeleton friend lives, right?”
The boy nodded with a slight smile.
The master considered his student’s willingness to travel again as a mark of great improvement. “Of course! Let’s make it next year’s goal!”
“Yes, Shishou!”