A/N: yet another series of snips from a personal fic I will never publish, but I'll give you a lil snippet of context: error lost ALL his memories, so hes just,,, Like That now. Also I was really out of it when I wrote this,,, like staying up at 2 am tired

It was ANOTHER FUCKING SKELETON. Honestly, these things just keep on popping out of the woodwork like they're about to go out of style. Why did he know so many skeletons in his old life? Come on, Error, the expectations were so low! You were supposed to be a reclusive hobo! 

This guy seemed to be a little shorter than the other two, but built in a more streamlined fashion. He wore clothes in shades of tan along with a glorious scarf, which is slightly admirable. Error quite liked his suspenders, but the hoodie around his waist was a BIT much. 

Better than Sunboy and… N… Nootmare? Needlemeedle? Whatever. 

"Yo," Error nonchalantly waved, tucking my right hand in one of my pockets. 

The skeleton, who shall be named Hipster Guy, goggled at him. "What are you wearing?" 

He looked down at my outfit. It was fabulous, just as he expected. Error put his hands on his hips and turned his nonexistent nose up at him. 

"It's called fashion, Hipster Guy," he said in the most posh tone of voice he could manage. It was pretty hard with a severely fucked vocal box. "Did you come here just to insult my fashion choices? Bitch." 

"Wh- no-" Hipster Guy rubbed his temples. "Okay, so Dream really was right about you…"

And these guys were talking behind his back? Talk about snakes, amiright? 

No, seriously, he couldn't even comprehend the rudeness, the AUDACITY, emanating off of this man here on this day of our lord and saviour jesus christ amen god bless. 

"Right about… what? How cool I am? How nice my glasses look? How depressingly lonely I feel every crippling day? How swanky my outfit is? Because all of the above is correct," Error factually said in a factual manner that was factual.

"What??" 

"Look, let's cut this quick Hipster Guy-" 

"Ink. My name is Ink."

"That's even worse. Look, Inky Boy, I will confirm three facts today on this here day on this day today right here," Error held out three fingers in front of myself, putting them down one after the other. "Yes, my name is Error, that is indeed who I am as of right now in my time existing in this mortal coil. Yes, I am not destroying universes right now, but I will take commissions if you're really that desperate. Yes, I do look very nice today, thank you for telling me that, I think my belt goes very nice with my shirt and I picked them out myself."

Ink opened his mouth, and closed it, before opening it again. "Well I-" he coughed. "I… wasn't going to ask those questions…" He totally was. You could see it in his eye sockets. 

Error raised a brow. Ink stared at him. Error raised it even higher in dominance. Ink looked away and the glitchy skeleton lowered it, knowing that he had won. 

Ink coughed. "So. You're a good guy now, I guess?" 

Error made an "ehh" noise and shook his hand side to side. "I'm not really good per se. I'm just doing my own thing now instead of mass omnicide," he shrugged. "It's a work in progress. Did you know that it takes seven bottles of Monster Liquor for my body to black out?"

"What?" 

"What was the question you wanted to ask me?"

Ink and Error stared at each other again. Error was starting to think Ink really liked staring contests, but this was getting kinda weird. He adjusted his glasses in a pointed gesture to lowkey make him realize that he was staring for too long. 

He looked away, thank god. "So, we have this annual Christmas party that we host every now and again…"

"You had me at "party"," Error said with the passion of a thousand suns. 

...

So Error learned a few more things about the multiverse. 

First of all, the reason there were so many skeletons fumbling around was because the multiverse took one look at this dude name Sans and said "Fuck yeah, let's make more skeletons" and basically mitosised into a huge conglomerate of alternate universes in which Big Man Sans was a constant in each one. Error has been informed by the people he told this to that this was a very inept way of describing it, but it's Error's monologue and he made the rules. 

Second of all, Error was apparently a very shitty and very scary person. Everyone took one look at him and were ready to throw down with him on sight. Hipster Guy had to explain that, no, he was NOT going to murder them and their loved ones, and, yes, he was a very good person that was totally not going to murder them and their loved ones.

...

"Does rule number four include helping your friends hide bodies?" He sarcastically asked, brushing himself off and glancing around the kitchen. 

"Nuh uh! Rule number four: you must do whatever you can for the cause! Topple empires, destroy states, hangout every saturday, evade taxes… the works."

Ah, tax evasion. Truly the most dastardly of schemes. "So is anyone else a part of this club?" Error asked, honestly a bit intrigued. Blue's little club sounded like a good gateway into doing some more fun things- he's already evaded taxes every day, and honestly he HAD committed a lot of petty theft and arson since he first woke up, so this other chaotic stuff sounded like a good heaping of fun for the whole family.

...

The temperature chilled by multiple degrees, and the walls began to leak black oil. It's clear they were offended at Error's refusal, but still...

"I'm a skeleton! Fuck you!"

"Error, don't be rude…"

"Courtesy is not extended to assholes," he looked at Blue with a serious gaze. "You know what you say to jerks?" 

"... what?" 

"You tell em, "Go FUCK yourself!"" He exclaimed empassionately, raising a fist in the air. Whispers scratched at the back of his skull. "Ya hear that, demon? Go FUCK YOURSELF!"

Blue winced as the whispers increased tenfold, and he cupped his hands over his head. "They didn't like that!" He exclaimed, before groaning. "Error, why'd you have to go and be so rude? Now I can't convince them to join the SSFC…" 

"SSF- you wanted DEMONS to join the club?!" Error exclaimed. 

"Why WOULDN'T I want demons to join the club?" He retorted. 

"I-" Error hesitated. Shit. He had a point. "Nevermind. Next time find some demons who aren't jerks."

...

"Don't you DARE say that! Ever! You are capable of anything you put your mind to, and if that anything is getting a date with some demon from hell, then by the stars YOU! CAN! DO! IT!"