Chapter Text
“h-hey buddy, let’s talk this out.”
This was it. This was how he died. Frozen in primitive fright at the sight of the mugger’s knife. Like with darkness, thunder and human children—he had a deep, inexplicable fear of knives. Probably had something to do with whatever trauma landed him in the hospital a few years back, bleeding, screaming and without a memory beyond his own name…(He should add doctors to that list of things that make his non-existent brain go CLANK.)
“You stupid? Gimmie your cash!”
Sans was going to get dusted for the audacity of being broke.