Dictation - ERROR 000 - [Voice] (Forward-dated for the 28th)

[drabsolutelynot]

Sans? Remember…rember…about the frog? The frog- The one that, um, that--[jesus, SansWhoIsn'tHereRightNow, can't you just follow his thinking on this?] --YOU KNOW THE FROG.

[Does Rosen think he’s actually talking to Sans?  Was he maybe trying to call Sans? Its unclear and as he is going to proceed either way, we may never know.]

What the fudge does the frog do when its half, um, half fudging boiled, hm? Does it realize whats going to happen? Or is it stupid and f…fluffing blind until the bitter freighting end?

[Rosen’s mind is reaching for the word ‘fucking’ but keeps landing just off mark. Even in his drunken haze he’s sensing he’s not getting the word he’s looking for, and the annoyance of that can possibly be sensed in the increasing agitation in his voice. That, coupled with what distinctly sounds like a glass bottle, or several, rolling across a table or, in this case, a floor.]

Flick the frog.  

[Closer, but no cigar. At least he got the F, a vowel, and the ‘ck’ in there. Points for trying? Rosen feels like he gets points for trying. For a few moments all that can be heard is Rosen half-singing ‘Jeremiah was a bullfrog’ under his breath before he goes very quiet]

Sans.

[Rosen’s voice is now serious. Contemplative.]

Can someone be the frog, the fr’pan, and the dick who has a frog and a frying pan all at the same time? 

[A long, labored sigh] 

I think m’doing it.

[End recording]

Comments

[skelebro]

Wouldn't think so, no. Hang in there, buddy.

[It's risky, but he opens up a ways, redirecting where he's going and where he's about to end up. Cuts the travel time significantly, and he parks just outside the doc's place. Cue a quiet rapping of knuckles against the door as he ends the call.]

You in there?

[drabsolutelynot]

[It takes a moment or two but a guttural]

Yes. M'in here.

[And then a quiet]

Can't do a presentation.

[skelebro]

[He tries the door. It's locked. So he takes the response as a tacit invitation and blips himself inside. Slow and careful, footsteps muffled by the pad of slippers.]

No, [he says steadily.] Wouldn't think so. C'mon, Doc, where're you at?

[drabsolutelynot]

Here

[Is Rosen's super helpful response. And by 'here' he means on the floor behind the counter. He'll even help you, Sans, by rolling some bottles your way]

[skelebro]

[Another soft clink, and there's glass rolling out from behind the counter. He steps carefully around them to pause at the prone shape on the floor, eyeing him warily.]

You doin' all right down there? Weather's good?

[drabsolutelynot]

[Rosen shakes his head pathetically, gray hair gone fly-away to the point where he almost looks like Albert Einstein]

Sans. Chars might be right. I might be....inebriated.

[skelebro]

Might be, huh?

[He hunkers down until he's in a sitting position, leaned up against the counter. Didn't have much plans for anything tonight anyhow, and makin' sure the doc don't thoroughly drown himself is probably a good start.]

Well, I'll be honest here: I'm not real sure how human hangovers differ from monster ones, so we're gonna have to figure that out together.

[drabsolutelynot]

M'not...entirely...willing to concede to the fact jus'yet.

[He peeks at Sans now sitting near to him and somewhere in the back of his mind there's an image of an empty chair in the clinic. Even with his head pounding, Rosen can't help but note the difference from the last time Sans had seen him break.]

What happens with monster hangovers?

[skelebro]

[He ticks it off on his phalanges, unaware of Rosen's small plight regarding vulnerability, and witnessing him in such a state.]

Well, mostly we get headaches. Ain't recommended we get touchy with our magic, 'cause that could seriously backfire. Though, uh, I don't think that last part'll be a problem with you.

[drabsolutelynot]

[Rosen rolls onto his side]

M'pretty sure that I can promise to not get touchy with my magic

[skelebro]

Heh. Yeah. I figured.

[A faint chuckle, but it don't have much heart.]

So. What were you thinkin' about that frog for?

[drabsolutelynot]

I f'cked a lot of things up. Long time ago. Nd'I told someone about it. And now s'all I can think about.

[And that led him down the road of wondering if the frog has any sense of self-awareness]

[skelebro]

Most people down here've fucked something up or another, Doc. [His tone ain't exactly gentle, but it is quiet. Even.]

Eventually, it all comes boilin' up to the surface. Like it or not.

[drabsolutelynot]

I know. I know [He whispers hoarsely. Rosen is under no delusion that he's unique in the fact that he has things in his past he regrets. He's even aware that his trespasses might look pathetically tame and domestic to a good majority of the people here.]

Its just-- its--

[Maybe its the drunkenness, but part of him suspects that even sober he wouldn't know how to explain it]

--have you even been 'fraid of yourself, Sans? Not like you're going to hurt yourself...but...like what you're capable of?

[skelebro]

[Afraid of himself? Well, that's...that's a curious question. And it's debatable, how much of this conversation Rosen's gonna remember, so -

What's the harm, really? It's the ideal situation to divulge what needs to be divulged, ain't it?]

I dunno if "afraid" is the right word.

Maybe "ashamed."

[drabsolutelynot]

Yes, that-

[Wait]

-What do you mean, S'ns?

[skelebro]

C'mon, Doc. Who here hasn't made a couple dozen life-shattering mistakes?

[His disarming tone might belie his words slightly, but there's no mistaking what they are. Life-shattering, after all, is the operative term there.]

[drabsolutelynot]

mmn. B'you're not just anyone.

You're Sans.

[In case you didn't know that]

[skelebro]

[He can't help it; that gets a laugh.]

Yeah, which means I'm actually way worse.

[drabsolutelynot]

Expla--

[Rosen tries to sit up in retaliation, but ends up grabbing at his head and flopping less-than-gracefully back onto the floor]

--nghhhh. [He groans for a long moment but even his drunken mind is not letting that one slip away]

Explain.

[skelebro]

Woah, easy there. [He don't quite frown at the guy, 'cause that would require dropping his perpetual grin - a reflex that may as well be utterly lost to him.]

C'mon, pal. No need to worry about that just now, yeah?

[drabsolutelynot]

[He peeks at sans through his fingers, shaking his head]

Please tell me. Or m'not gonna stop asking.

[Aren't his drunken threats terrifying, Sans?]

[skelebro]

[Yeah, they got him shakin' in his slippers.]

All right, all right. Listen. I'll tell ya if you sit still and stop tryin' to make this prospective hangover worse for yourself. Deal?

[drabsolutelynot]

[There's a huff of defiance but he rolls onto his back as an indication of his agreement.]

Deal.

[skelebro]

[Okay? Okay. Yeah. This is probably better. Means Rosen's likelihood of remembering this is pretty low, he's thinking.]

Good, all right.

[If he possessed lungs, he might'a taken that opportunity to sigh. As it is, he simply settles on his spot a mite more securely as he considers the most ambiguous wording possible - just in case Rosen does remember.]

Just...y'know. I've done some pretty bad stuff to a lotta people. And that ain't something I can fix. Or if it is, I, uh - I dunno how.