บท 60: Chapter 60
Meanwhile, back on stage, Mettaton sat in his chair, leaned back, and got himself comfortable as he prepared to ask the questions. Frisk did the same thing as he prepared to answer.
"Alright, Frisk, we'll start at the beginning," Mettaton said. "Is Frisk Fox really your name? It is so fabulous, not to mention the great alliteration! Do you have a middle name?"
"Yeah," Frisk said slightly dumbfounded. "My middle name's Tobius."
"Awww," Mettaton said clearly disappointed. "Way to ruin a great thing. What were your parents thinking?"
Frisk, annoyed at his words, said, "That was my uncle's name. He was my Dad's little brother. He died in the car crash that killed my grandparents."
"Oh…" Mettaton said feeling slightly embarrassed and anxious at hearing the audience's murmurs. "Sorry about that. Next question!"
"What a prick," Undyne whispered to Papyrus from the audience.
"So, your father was an orphan, too?" Mettaton asked.
"Yes, he met my mother at the orphanage," Frisk said still feeling a bit annoyed.
"So, both your parents were orphans! How tragic!" Mettaton said making dramatic poses.
"Maybe, but they wouldn't have met otherwise," Frisk said with a smile. "Sometimes, the Almighty uses awful situations to bring about great things. You know?"
"Oh, you're religious?" Mettaton said returning to his former posture.
"Yep," Frisk replied.
"For how long?"
"Most of my life off and on, but now, I'm committed for good."
"Interesting. Do you want to attend a seminary when you're older?"
Frisk paused and reflected for a moment. He hadn't thought that far ahead. He was so busy living day-to-day that he never even thought about it.
"I don't know," Frisk said honestly. "I don't know what I want to be when I grow up."
"You are still young," Mettaton said. "How old are you exactly?"
"10," Frisk replied.
"Oh, wow, you're not very old at all."
"Nope."
"Well, that's enough of me asking," Mettaton said as he got up off his chair and faced the audience. "Hey, my lovely audience! Is there anything you would like to ask the human before I move on to the therapy portion of our show? Anything at all? Come on. Don't be shy."
To Frisk, Undyne, and Papyrus' surprise, almost every hand in the audience went up.
"Alright, you, in the front," Mettaton said calling on a small bunny child.
"What's your favorite color?" the bunny asked innocently.
"Uh…I don't have a favorite," Frisk answered shyly. "I like all colors about the same, but I prefer darker shades if that makes sense."
"Oh, okay," she replied tilting her head quizzically. "Do you like cooking? I love cooking."
"I've only made eggs with my Mom once," Frisk said a bit more comfortably. "I made a large muffin this morning unintentionally. It was kinda fun. I don't think I'd mind doing it again, especially if my new brother was helping."
That response made Papyrus' heart rise with joy and Undyne's heart sink with dread.
"You should try making sushi. I like making sushi…" the rabbit girl started to say with a large smile on her face.
"Thank you, sweetheart, but we need to let other people ask questions now," Mettaton said gently as almost everyone in the audience went back to raising their hands. "Okay? Now, who's next? How about you, in the orange sweater, towards the middle?"
An orange monster with horns on his head wearing an orange sweater asked, "What happened to your parents?"
Frisk's expression fell. The monster instantly regretted his question.
"Uh, Frisk, you don't have to answer if you don't want to…" the orange monster started to say.
"They were murdered," Frisk said succinctly while trying to hold back his tears.
The audience fell silent. Undyne tried her best not to get upset while Papyrus looked down nervously.
"Frisk, I'm so sorry," the orange monster said with deep remorse behind his voice as he sat down.
The whole audience put their hands down. From far away, Sans could feel his eye glowing. For a moment, Mettaton was unsure of how to continue until the rabbit girl's mother, the shopkeeper from Snowdin, raised her hand.
"Yes?" Mettaton asked.
"Frisk," she said gently as Frisk looked up to meet the familiar voice. "What were your parents like?"
A warm smile brightened up Frisk's face as he began, "They were the best parents in the world. They were the cool parents most kids wished they had. They would sometimes let me stay up late on school nights, so we could do cool things at night like hang out with their friends or learn how to use our magic in the backyard or learn songs on the piano and electric guitar and things like that. We had so much fun together. I loved them so much…"
Frisk paused to take a breath as the rabbit lady gestured for him to continue. Frisk was happy to.
"My Mom was so funny," Frisk said. "She was so weird and crazy and random. She always had so much energy and would say odd things. It always made me laugh, especially when I was in a bad mood. She was sweet, but she was really tough, too. She taught me how to fight and taught me how to use my magic. My Dad did, too…"
"What was your father like, Frisk?" the bunny woman asked.
Frisk paused for a second and smiled sadly at her.
A few tears went down his cheek when he said, "He was my best friend…"
Back at Toriel's home, Sans' eye sockets were attentively glued to the screen.
"My Dad was a lot like me," Frisk said. "He liked to keep to himself. He was quiet and shy around most people, but around us and his friends, he was different, especially with me. We didn't always have to talk, but somehow, we always understood each other, and he always knew what I needed to hear. I could relax around him, especially after a hard day at school when everyone was mean to me. Sometimes, we would read books, or he would teach me songs on the guitar or we'd listen to music or he taught me things about determination. Other times, we just talked about whatever, literally anything. In a way, I think he saw me more as his friend than his son…"
"Don't go too far," he heard Him say.
Frisk suddenly realized how long he had been going on and timidly went silent. The audience was completely silent for a good moment.
"Does that answer your question?" Mettaton asked breaking the silence.
"Yes," the rabbit woman said. "Your parents sound like fantastic people, Frisk. I'm sure they'd be proud."
Frisk smiled shyly in response.
Back in the Ruins, Sans went back to work and reflected on his own life.
"Moving right along," Mettaton said hoping to pick up the pace again as other hands rose. "Does anyone else have a question? Oh, how about you in upper left corner? The one on fire."
A fire monster that was the same species as Grillby stood up and asked very loudly, "Do humans wear underwear?"
Frisk looked up in dumbfounded embarrassment for a second as he struggled to gain his composure and said, "Yes."
His answer seemed to embolden the others who started waving their arms more furiously.
"Oh, do calm down," Mettaton said. "There's plenty of room for everyone…"
The questions kept coming for a while. Some were innocent and asked about his friends on the surface or whether he was old enough to drive a car. Others were more serious ones asking about how he lived after his parents died, and subsequently, how he lived as a homeless child on the surface.
After about 30 minutes, Mettaton suddenly said, "My lovely audience, I do apologize, but it is time to move on to the therapeutic portion of our show."
Several members of the audience groaned in disappointment while Frisk's heart skipped a beat in terror.
"Don't worry, my beauties," Mettaton said rolling back to his seat. "You can send all your other questions in later. I'll tell you how at the end of the show…"
"Excuse me, Mettaton," Frisk said quietly. "What do you mean by 'therapy?'"
"I mean exactly that, Frisk," Mettaton said looking back to his young charge. "This show is called 'Psychology with Mettaton' after all."
"You never mentioned this," Frisk said suspiciously while Undyne and Sans leered from their seats.
"Frisk, dear, what did you expect?" Mettaton asked pointing to the title above the monitor on the wall and trying to regain control. "It is a psychology show. What would a psychology show be without any talk about psychology? It won't take too long, and you'll get your surprise afterwards. Is that alright?"
Frisk's eyes followed Mettaton's finger as he pointed to the sign above. This was not what he signed up for, but if it was only a few questions…
"Okay," Frisk said timidly.
"Alright, first question, dear," Mettaton asked happily. "Why do you feel depressed?"
Frisk and the rest of the audience went silent.
"What?" Frisk asked incredulously.
"You heard me, sweetie," Mettaton said. "Why do you specifically feel depressed?"
"Who said I feel depressed?"
"You wouldn't be here if you weren't, child."
Frisk quickly caught onto his meaning and felt his heart drop and burn in anger.
"My Dad told me that depression has many causes…" Frisk replied cautiously.
"That is true," Mettaton said before giving a quick aside to the audience. "Psychology has taught us that. Depression, which is an intensely sad emotional state characterized by low feelings of self-worth or guilt and a reduced ability to enjoy life, can be caused by guilt, grief, neglect, suppressed anger, genetics, or by biological factors. Frisk, do you feel that your depression is caused by any of those things?"
"Yes," Frisk said to be brief as possible while the audience murmured amongst themselves in pity.
Mettaton smiled inwardly at their response and sighed while Sans watched on his phone and silently wondered how many bones he could stick through the robot's head.
"I understand that you don't want to talk about your problems with me, darling, but you need to," Mettaton replied gently. "You're not happy. Why don't you be more specific about why?"
"You're not a psychiatrist," Frisk said impatiently as he shifted in his seat. "Why do you need to know?"
"Talking about your issues could help others like you," Mettaton replied. "Don't you want to help other monsters?"
"Not like this! You're a quack!" Frisk yelled angrily.
The audience murmured more loudly at the outburst.
"Frisk…" Papyrus said quietly while Undyne fumed and furiously dug holes into the cushion of her seat with her nails.
Mettaton sighed deeply and replied calmly and condescendingly while he reached over and held Frisk's hands in his as he looked into the child's upset eyes, "Alright, dear. Calm down. It's okay. I know you're only taking out your pent-up anger on me because you're afraid of being vulnerable with others. But I know the deeper reason behind your dark emotions. I mean. It's obvious. You're still mourning the death of your parents and the fact that you were neglected and left to survive on your own for almost three years…"
"Well, duh," Frisk said as he pulled his hands out of his grip and turned away from the audience and Mettaton to hide the tears coming from his eyes. "But you can't do anything about it?"
"Oh, but I can," Mettaton said rolling out of his seat and standing into the middle of the stage. "And I'll tell you exactly how as soon as I show my patient audience my AMAZING, NEW BODY!"
The lights dimmed to darkness. The stage filled with smoke. A drumroll started playing. The audience cheered in anticipation while Frisk and his friends watched fearfully from their seats. Frisk turned around, sat on his knees, gripped the top of the couch, and watched over it in anticipation. Nothing good ever came from this.
Mettaton posed dramatically as Frisk saw a stage hand run behind him and flip the switch on his back before running off-stage again. As Mettaton morphed into Mettaton EX, Frisk's fingers gripped the couch more tightly as the memories flooding back in made his small body quake in absolute terror. His mind went back into its cloud as the lights came up and he continued to grip the couch against the loud cheers of the audience.
Papyrus immediately saw what was happening, elbowed Undyne's side to get her attention, and said, "Undyne, it's happening again. He's having a PTSD attack."
"Shit…" Undyne responded back as she noticed what was happening.
Mettaton looked back and saw the same thing. The audience slowly grew silent.
"Darling, are you okay?" Mettaton asked as he walked over until he could place a robotic hand on Frisk's trembling head and turn around to yell at his staff. "Please bring us some water! I don't think he's feeling good."
Mettaton, showing a surprising amount of tenderness, picked Frisk up, cradled him in his arms, and sat down in his chair.
"What's wrong with him?" someone from the audience asked.
"He's scared," Mettaton said holding him close while a stagehand handed him a name-brand water bottle that he opened and put to Frisk's lips. "From all the psychology research I read last night, it seems that he's having a panic attack. Don't know what could have triggered it. He's probably dealing with an anxiety disorder, too. You poor, neglected child…"
The water dribbling down Frisk's lip was enough to wake him up and bring him back to reality. He looked up to his surprise to see Mettaton holding him on his lap and scrambled out of it as quickly as he could. Frisk landed on the floor and continued breathing hard.
"Frisk, what ever is the matter?" Mettaton asked while screwing the top on the water bottle and handing it to Frisk. "It's me, Mettaton. I apologize, darling. I didn't know you had anxiety issues. I didn't mean to scare you. I should have given you a warning before I did that. Please forgive me. Just drink some water and catch your breath, dear, while I tell you about your fabulous prizes so you can go home. Alright?"
Frisk nodded, took the water bottle, and got back into his seat while he tried to regain his composure.
The audience murmured in excitement as happy, upbeat music filled the air.
"Now, Frisk, for being such a good sport as the first human on the show, I have a number of fabulous prizes to give you today!" Mettaton announced while strutting out of his chair.
The audience cheered in excitement as Frisk, Undyne, Papyrus, and the other friends watching breathed a collective sigh of relief. The show would be ending, and they would all finally get to go home and go on with their lives…
"Firstly, as promised, dear," Mettaton said pulling out another check out of nowhere. "Here's your check for one million G!"
Frisk smiled and took the money. This would help his new family so much…
"In addition, I'm getting you a scholarship to any school you want," Mettaton said. "How does that sound?"
Frisk smiled and nodded in response as the audience cheered more loudly.
"But thirdly is the greatest prize of all," Mettaton said while gesturing for the crowd to be silent and allowing the drumroll to start up again. "For you see, my lovely audience, this prize will give Frisk everything he needs to get over his psychological issues and live a prosperous life. He will no longer want for anything or have a single care in the world! He'll have the best care that money can buy and have everything his orphaned heart could possibly desire! What is that prize you might ask…?"
Undyne and Papyrus were on the edge of their seats waiting to hear what their child would be getting. Sans, Toriel, and Alphys were doing the same.
Meanwhile, Frisk was admiring his check for one million G. This was a rough day on him, but it wasn't too bad. Now, Frisk could go home, and his family would discuss how to use their new money. Everything went perfectly…
"IT'S ME!" Mettaton announced. "AS OF TODAY, FRISK HAS BEEN ADOPTED AS MY OWN!"
"What?!" Frisk and all his friends yelled at once.
Frisk, Undyne, and Papyrus could almost hear their hearts stop in shock. They could barely hear the audience go wild with excitement.
Mettaton smirked at Frisk before strutting off-stage to his audience in his high heels so the press could swarm him with their cameras.
Thankfully, Frisk had enough experience to know how to react in high-pressure situations like this one. He pulled out his phone, sent Undyne a quick text message, and ran off-stage while no one was looking.
Papyrus noticed and started to say something, but Undyne shut his mouth and pointed to her phone. Frisk had sent a text message that read, "Meet me by the boat now!"
Papyrus nodded in understanding as he and Undyne quickly and quietly ran out of the studio as quickly as they could.
Meanwhile, Frisk was bolting down the back stairs as fast as he could. This was not as bad as before. This was much worse.
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