“Ugh,” Chara grumbled. “Your Pacifist run is so boring. I liked it better when I could kill everyone.” “Hey,” Frisk said. “We had a deal, if you did your Genocide run I could do Pacifist. You already did your run, now it’s my turn.” “Fine, fine,” Chara said, giving in. She had already killed everything, and she did keep her word. That was literally the one good thing she did. “Where are we even going, anyway?” “Well, we’re heading to Asgore’s castle,” Frisk told her. “So we have to get through this part.” They opened a door. She and Chara stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind them, sending a rush of Hotlands air to their backs. It was pitch black. They couldn’t even see their hands in front of their faces. “It’s uh, it’s a little dark in there,” Alphys said from the other end of the phone. “Ya think?” Chara asked rhetorically. Frisk glared at her. “I-I’ll turn on the lights…” In a few seconds, they could see they were in a kitchen, with cameras in front of it. “Where the heck are we?” Frisk asked. “I’ve seen this place in my run, but no one was in it,” Chara shrugged, looking around. “Hello beauties!” “Oh God.” “Oh no.” A square metal box with a glowing screen appeared from a door in the wall. This time, he was wearing a chef hat. He wheeled over to the counter. “Welcome to Mettaton’s Fabulous cooking show! Today we have some special guests, Frisk and… Chara.” “Okay, Mettaton, what do you want us to do?” Chara asked, looking surprisingly helpful. “What’re you doing?” Frisk asked her. “I’m just trying to get this over with,” Chara replied. “Okay, could you get the flour, eggs, and milk please?” Chara looked over, the three ingredients were just laying out on the counter. She picked them up and put them beside the robot. “That was surprisingly easy.” “Fabulous, darling,” Mettaton said. “But we’re missing one thing… oh that’s right! A human soul.” “Wait, what?” Frisk asked, backing away from the chainsaw Mettaton pulled out. Chara looked a bit scared too, since Frisk wouldn’t let her get any weapons. “Wait!” Alphys called over the phone. A red dot rolled around Mettaton’s screen. “What?” “C-couldn’t you make a-a substitution? L-like in case someone’s…. Vegan?” she asked. Mettaton looked like he was thinking about it. “Fabulous idea! Of course, like a professional, we always keep a substitution around, if you could just get it. It’s right over there” The kids walked over to a shelf. “Someone call Staples ‘cause that was eas-” Frisk was saying, before they were cut off by the counter becoming taller and taller. “Boi, you dead,” Chara said, looking up near the top of the counter tower. “Now, our show runs on a very strict schedule, so if you can’t get it in one minute, we’ll just have to go back to the original plan.” “Frisk, look at your phone,” Alphys told them. “You’ll see there’s a jetpack button.” “What,” Chara listened in disbelief. “Just press the button, and fly up there.” Frisk shrugged, doing what they were told. Once the jetpack was on, they blasted off, quite literally leaving Chara in the dust. Mettaton flew above Frisk, sprinkling ingredients that would mess up the jetpack’s engines, so they tried their best to avoid them. In a few moments, they finally got to the top. Mettaton floated up beside them. “Good job, human,” he sighed. “But, this is a professional cooking show, so the cake was already pre-made!” “OH MY GOD,” Frisk heard Chara exclaim from the bottom, and they saw why when they got to the bottom. Chara was covered with the flour, egg yolks, and garlic cloves that Mettaton threw at Frisk. When he landed next to them, Frisk had to hold Chara back. “Good-bye beauties!” “Can we please switch this route to neutral,” Chara growled. Frisk shook their head, and they walked out of the kitchen.