Daddy's a Serial Killer

Chapter 16 - Ice Cream

Of course, ice cream was what calmed the two men down.

How could they simply not freak out after the uncomfortable as hell situation they had to suffer through? It was so awkward!

"They think I'm in an unhappy marriage," Sans groaned, taking another scoop of ice cream with ketchup from a ketchup packet.

How could they not? It was so painfully obvious! Sans sat on Toby's lap in a full-on panicked move and was forced to play cool for the rest of the hour. If that wasn't bad enough, the two were making up complete bullshit every time those people asked questions. Toby spent five minutes talking about the time he first saw Sans, surrounded by petals in an open field, and how they fell in love at first sight, spitting out every single cliche that made Sans pinch him under the table. Didn't help that they kept pinching or kicking each other and pretending every time it was one of Toby's tics, and whispering shit at each other because they thought the other one did something really stupid. At one point Sans just wrote 'what the fuck' on his phone's notebook app and flashed it at Toby for saying their child's name was inspired by baked beans.

He wasn't offended because Toby equated the baked beans to his child's name. No, he was pissed off. After all, he had to try not to burst out laughing halfway through the brunch because he didn't realize the connection before and now couldn't get it out of his head.

"It's better over... over thinking abusive, right?" He asked, face speaking nothing but overwhelming relief from finally escaping that social hell.

"Right, yeah," Sans said.

That was true. They sure as hell looked dysfunctional, but hey, not abusive. No need to spy on their love lives or anything. And if they appeared terrible enough everyone would want to avoid them. This worked out fantastically for Sans.

"I think if I move again, I need to take charge and make appearances around instead of letting rumors like that slip... ugh," Sans said.

They sat in silence, enjoying their ice cream. Sans squirting out ketchup onto his, mixing it about with a spoon. Toby only eyed his ice cream once before shrugging, returning to his meal. No judgment here.

"Hey, uh... thanks again for that, really owe ya one," Sans said, "That was just several layers of us all fucking up that crashed and burned at once. I should have known that it did look kinda suspicious."

He moved into a neighborhood filled with people ready to gossip and didn't realize how much that'd bite him in the ass.

"It's fine, at least I'll get a favor out of it, I guess," Toby said. He paused, before putting down the ice cream. "Can I ask why you're... you're doing this?"

"Why I'm housing serial killers? Heh. Sure, I can -"

"No, not - whoop - that. Not that reason. I mean why are you so... so cool with them killing still."

Oh. That. Sans could only offer a shrug.

"Honestly, I just... don't care," Sans said, "I mean, they ain't killing people I know. So I don't care about those people. Kinda why I quit working as a Judge for Asgore, didn't care about a lot of people. Feels like I need to make a welcoming package that includes that explanation for anyone who enters my house. Could include cupcakes, too."

Toby snorted at that statement. "Yeah, red velvet."

Sans turned. "Right? Thank the lord you agree with me on the flavor, anything else and I would'a kicked you outta my car."

Sans dipped his spoon further into his bowl of red and white slop, glancing over at Toby. Seemed nice. He felt bad about how he's been introducing these new Creepypastas recently. Eyeless Jack, he barely talks to, and now poor Toby got dragged into a terrible brunch with strangers to fix Sans' mistake.