Inktober Shorts (4) - Night Garbage

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Summary: No trash is safe.

Blue grinned, placing the plate of freshly cooked tacos in his hands on the kitchen table

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Blue grinned, placing the plate of freshly cooked tacos in his hands on the kitchen table. He then cupped a hand next to his mouth and chimed, "Stretch, dinner is ready!"

A mere few seconds passed by the time the lanky, orange hoodie-clad skeleton teleported into the room. "Sweet. Looks great, bro."

Once the brothers settled down with their own plates, a thud and several clanks came from beyond the kitchen door leading to the side of the house.

Blue instantly leapt from his seat. "The masked, nimble-fingered bandits are back!"

His gloved hand threw open the door with vigor while the other reached for the broom he kept nearby just for these occasions. He took a single step past the doorway and raised it high, prepared to thwart his Surface enemies, only to pause.

Leaning over the garbage can's edge was an "average" height skeleton bearing a long beige scarf and colorful eyelights.

The Underswap Sans slowly lowered his weapon. "Ink?"

Instead of answering, the artist hissed and sprung away from the black, rolling bin before scurrying down the moonlit street on all fours.

Like a crab.

Or, probably more accurately, a demon.

Stretch snorted, walking up beside him. "And you wonder why I don't approve of your friendship with him."

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