Random 1: Ink gazed at Core, puzzlement etched across his features. "Hey Core, what gender do you identify as?" "I don't identify with any gender." "What do you mean?" "I'm essentially an omnipresent entity existing across all timelines. Does gender really hold significance in that context?" "I'm not sure... But I envisioned you in a maid outfit, and you looked adorable! With those squishy grey cheeks and all..." "...You really need to spend less time with Lust."
Random 2: "Please tell me you're not seriously considering shooting a child," Epic pleaded, casting a concerned glance at Dust, who had a gun aimed at a kid. Sure, the kid was irritating, Epic acknowledged, but resorting to violence seemed excessive. "Yeah, right in the face," Dust retorted. "Bruh." Epic's deadpan face can be emotionally felt.
Random 3: Killer found himself drifting helplessly in space, his movements hindered after Nightmare, in a fit of annoyance, had hurled him there, causing him to collide with several satellites. Desperate to return to solid ground, Killer attempted to maneuver himself back down, but his efforts were thwarted by Outer, who seemed intent on being particularly bothersome that day. "And then, I suggested this manga to Papyrus," Outer continued, floating near him with telekinetic control, "Little did he know, half the cast was destined to meet their demise." Killer could only listen to Outer's incessant chatter, unable to escape his grip.
Random 4: Dream strolled through the Omega Timeline until he stumbled upon Epic and Sci, who were sharing a laugh. "What's going on, guys?" Dream inquired. "You've got to check this out, it's hilarious," Epic replied between chuckles. Sci nodded in agreement, still amused. "So, I introduced Sci to Lobotomy Kaisen, and he really got into it. Then I asked him to have a chat with an AI," Epic explained, showing his phone to Dream. As Dream glanced at the screen, he was met with the unexpected exchange: (All of this is AI-generated: Epic: If you fought Nightmare, who would win? Dream: If Nightmare had over 500 Apples of Feelings, it might pose a challenge. Epic: But would you lose? Dream: Nah, I'd win.) Dream's expression turned deadpan as he processed the content on the phone. "So, you've somehow turned my personal nightmare into a meme with brainrot," he remarked dryly.
Random 5: Red Flowey gazed into the distance, his usual instinct to consume strong DT Souls halted by the presence of Nightmare. "Absolutely not worth the risk," he muttered to himself, deciding it was best to avoid any confrontation with the embodiment of negativity. With that, he swiftly made his escape, opting not to tempt fate.
Random 6: Ink enthusiastically announced, "AND NOW, FOR OUR ARM WRESTLING CONTESTANTS... DREAM!" Dream strode in, exuding an intimidating aura with his muscular physique. "AND NIGHTMARE!" Before Nightmare could even react to his introduction, Dream swiftly conjured a gun crafted from positivity and fired at Nightmare, (not) catching everyone off guard with his un(expected) move.
Random 7: "I am the embodiment of probability or luck; I can control one's fate!" Lucky proclaimed proudly. "Yet you didn't contribute anything in our fight," Nightmare retorted. "Shut up, tentacle hentai," Lucky snapped back, feeling the need to deflect Nightmare's criticism. "You will meet your end someday," Nightmare countered ominously.
Random 8: In a secluded corner of the multiverse, Core stumbled upon Lust engrossed in a peculiar hobby. "Lust?" Core inquired, curiosity piqued. Lust looked up, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I'm knitting scarves for all the personifications of abstract concepts. Wanna help?" Core hesitated, unsure how to respond to such an unusual request. "I suppose it couldn't hurt," they finally replied, intrigued by the prospect of contributing to something so eccentric.
Random 9: As Ink and Dream traversed the multiverse, they stumbled upon an unexpected sight: Dust, hunched over in a dimly lit corner, surrounded by a chaotic pile of torn pages and scattered ink bottles. "What are you doing, Dust?" Ink cautiously approached, noting the despair etched on Dust's weary face. Dust glanced up, his eyes haunted by shadows. "Trying to make sense of the voices," he muttered, his voice heavy with resignation. Dream exchanged a worried glance with Ink, realizing the extent of Dust's struggles with his hallucinations. "Perhaps we should find him some help," Dream suggested softly, recognizing the need for support in Dust's fragile state.
Random 10:
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