*sans the skeleton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
trombones) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rackofbadcds2017-02-16 05:03 pm
trombones) wrote in rackofbadcds2017-02-16 05:03 pm
Entry tags:
open post??????????
How did you wind up here? Who knows. Who cares. One minute you're on a walk, the next minute you pass by this guy's driveway.
The faint sound of something plays as you get closer. There's a guy there. Or rather, a skeleton. Skeleton monster. Whatever, he looks like a cartoon. He's reclined back in a lawn chair with a long twisty straw in his mouth, attached to a bright pink drink in a mason jar. Next to him, two child's playpens are just barely holding themselves together on the concrete.
A good collection of eight or nine roombas move around inside them. They're all on. Circling the pen, bumping into the walls and each other, turning, circling, cleaning. It's a weird dance at this point.
There's a cardboard sign between the pens:
roomba daycare
$1
roomba eggs not guaranteed
The faint sound of something plays as you get closer. There's a guy there. Or rather, a skeleton. Skeleton monster. Whatever, he looks like a cartoon. He's reclined back in a lawn chair with a long twisty straw in his mouth, attached to a bright pink drink in a mason jar. Next to him, two child's playpens are just barely holding themselves together on the concrete.
A good collection of eight or nine roombas move around inside them. They're all on. Circling the pen, bumping into the walls and each other, turning, circling, cleaning. It's a weird dance at this point.
There's a cardboard sign between the pens:
roomba daycare
$1
roomba eggs not guaranteed
no subject
He glances back up as his brother starts to look around. Oh. He sees where this is going.
"We still got the flamingos from that flea market we went to. And that garden gnome that looks like... what'd Frisk say his name was? Elvis?"
To be fair, a lot of their stuff was from thrift stores and flea markets. Sans and Papyrus always found SOMETHING weird to take home when they went shopping.
no subject
Thrift stores and flea markets are pretty great. All the delights of shopping at the dump, including the very low prices, except this way they weren't soaked in water and moldsmal slime! And, so far, no fleas. It must work on a roulette basis or something.
"Those flamingos stand up on bendable poles, right? Let's secure the pen with them. Decoration and stability, what a deal."
no subject
Sans shifts up to get a better look.
"Oh, yeah. Good idea. I think they're still in the flower bed."
He's helping... by pointing out where they are.
no subject
More like a giant lawn goat. Even if he uses clippers on the hedges he shapes, instead of teeth.
Papyrus shakes his head a the very sedentary help, and crosses the lawn to the flower bed. Now they have a lawn gnome and a lawn skeleton! Truly, the Johnsons stand no chance in their competition of ornamentation.
"Do you think it's bad for the flowers, if I take these?"
no subject
Especially when Asgore wears that floral pink shirt.
Anyway. Sans finally sits up. Of the few things he's bothered to do so far, putting his spine in a barely-straight position is one of them now.
"Nah. Flamingos are freeloaders."
no subject
Sans sitting up when he doesn't have to... It's a Christmas in July Miracle.
"Not for long, they aren't!" Papyrus plucks the plastic birds from the soil with all the care and attention of ripping a bandage off.
no subject
"Dang. It's like that one time I wound up in the dirt too."
no subject
Their lawn might have some holes in it now, though. As though a small but determined dog had started to bury many tiny bones wherever the flamingos had been. But that's hardly an emergency; the lawn's herbs and wildflowers and grass and stuff, it'll grow back to cover them eventually.
"...This incident is escaping me. Should I be glad I don't remember?"
no subject
Sans shrugs his non-margarita hand up in the air. He high-fives the roomba next to him in the process. No elaboration. These are just things that happen in their lives, apparently.
"And you pulled me out kind of like that, because I was pretty stuck. Neck-deep stuck. I bend better than the flamingos, though."