Round 1 Bone Ceremony (previous)

Round 2 Bone Ceremony (next)

Week 2: The Party

Ever-the-showman, Twist has decided to throw a party to give Cash a chance to mingle with the seven remaining contestants! Alcohol often breeds truth, after all. But the contestants won’t be the only ones drinking…

Will our bachelor completely humiliate himself? Find out below! Warning for alcohol consumption.

Don’t forget to vote for who you want Cash to eliminate this round! The link to the poll will be at the end of the chapter!

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Cash revelled in the
few days of freedom he was granted before the next ‘event’ Twist had planned.
Though the day following the first elimination ceremony had been… uncomfortable,
Cash had managed to push aside his guilt and remorse in favour of treating
himself to some much-needed alone time.

He spent as much time
outside as he could—wandering the gardens, picking oranges from the orchard
below his bedroom window, sitting in the courtyard and reading a few of his old
pirate novels. The peace and quiet was welcome, but more importantly—it allowed
him some time away from the other skeletons.

In addition to Twist’s
non-stop date idea related drivel, he’d been incessantly pestering Cash about
who his ‘favourites’ were so far. Cash had given up on trying to get him to
shut up—and was now just attempting to avoid him entirely.

Today’s chosen spot
was a bench beside the pond, in the shade of an old willow tree whose branches
hung low over the murky blue water. Cash was dozing lightly when he heard the
sound of footsteps. Warily, he cracked open an eye socket. “Heya, Patches!”

“fuck—” Cash flinched
violently away from Twist, startled by his sudden proximity. “don’t—sneak up on me, you asshole!”

Twist only grinned,
dropping onto the bench beside him and slinging an arm over his shoulders. “Yer
jus’ terrible at keepin’ yer eye out,” he said, flicking Cash on the cheekbone.
Cash grumbled, trying to tug himself out of Twist’s grip, but his hold was
firm.

Slumping against
Twist, he gave a relinquishing sigh. “what do you want?” he asked, his voice
dull and tired.

Twist hummed, gazing
at the pond’s still waters. “Jus’ wanted ta spend some time with ya before
tonight,” he said, sounding serene.

Cash glanced up at
him, blinking. “tonight?”

Twist slowly drew his
gaze away from the water, lifting his brow-bones at Cash. “Oh! Right—tonight’s
the party.”

Cash gave him a blank
look, dread creeping into his soul. “… party?”

Twist frowned, making
a considering noise. “Uh. Did I—er, ferget ta tell ya?” Cash glowered. “Huh.
Knew I’d missed someone. Well. Yeah—tonight’s the party! Chance fer ya ta
mingle with the others. Get ‘em drunk an’ honest, y’know?”

Cash took a long
breath of the cool morning air, closing his eye sockets and dipping his head in
a sullen nod. “right. great.”

“Aww, no need ta be so
glum, Patches,” Twist said, giving Cash’s shoulders a soft squeeze. “Yer
allowed ta drink too.”

“believe me,” Cash mumbled,
“if i wasn’t, then i wouldn’t be attending.”

****

Later that evening,
when the sun’s light had faded, and the cool night air was flowing in through
Cash’s bedroom window, Cash lay on his bed, dozing idly. The quiet chirping of
crickets and the occasional low hoots of owls outside were almost enough to
make him forget the dull thump of music downstairs.

Cash’s thoughts were interrupted
by a knock on the door, breaking his brief moment of tranquillity. “come in,”
he called, sleepily. The door creaked open to reveal Twist—dressed in slacks
and a button up shirt with yellow polka dots on it. He was even wearing a
bowtie.

“Patches! Yer awake,”
he said, beaming as he hurried over.

Blearily, Cash hoisted
himself off the bed, stifling a yawn. “yep—h-hey, what are you doing?”

Twist had begun to
slide Cash’s jacket off his shoulders. He looked up, blinking. “Well, ya can’
go down there dressed like this—it’s a party!”

“who cares?” Cash
asked, blandly.

Twist almost looked offended,
his eye going wide, and a tint of magic briefly touching the cracks of left
socket. “Yer the star a’ the night! Ya’ve gotta dress ta impress.”

Cash gave him a dull
look. “i don’t have to—i’m impressive on my own.”

This drew a laugh from
Twist, but he removed Cash’s jacket nonetheless, discarding it on the bed. “Be
tha’ as it may—we’re tryna sell ya ta the rest a’ them. An’ ta do that—we’ve
gotta dress ya fer the part.”

Cash gave up,
resorting to sitting back as Twist picked an outfit for him. Twist rifled
through his closet for a few minutes before emerging holding a smart pair of Cash’s
best designer jeans and a plum coloured shirt. “Purple’s yer colour, y’know,”
he told him as he tossed the garments at him.

“so i’ve been told,”
Cash muttered, examining the clothes. Twist watched him in anticipation,
grinning. Clearing his throat, Cash said, “aren’t you going to, um, turn away?”

For a moment, Twist
looked puzzled. Then realisation seemed to dawn on him, and his eye sockets
widened. “Right! ‘Course.” He gave a one-shouldered shrug, winking. “Can ya
blame me fer wantin’ a peek at—?”

“fuck off,” Cash
snapped, receiving only a throaty chuckle in response.

When Cash had finished
changing, Twist surveyed him, humming in thought. Self-consciously, Cash tugged
at the sleeves of the dress shirt. The colour felt too deep and bright—the type
that attracted attention (which had likely been Twist’s intention, Cash
realised). Twist approached Cash, placing his hands on his arms, and narrowing
his eye sockets as he looked him up and down. “take a picture, it’ll last
longer,” Cash murmured, scowling at the floor.

Twist simply grinned,
before reaching for the cuffs of his sleeves. “Don’ worry, precious—I’ll be
takin’ plenty a’ pictures,” he said, rolling Cash’s sleeves up past his elbows.
Cash blushed, ducking his head. “There—tha’s better. Ya have pretty hands, show
‘em off.”

In that moment, Cash
wished more than anything that his jeans had pockets.

He only blushed harder
when Twist took his arm, looping it in his own. “I’ll be yer escort fer
tonight, darlin’,” he whispered, leaning a little too close for Cash’s peace of
mind.

When they reached the
main hall downstairs, Cash could hear music and chatter coming from the living
room. He swallowed as Twist pushed open the doors and guided him inside. A fire
was crackling in the hearth, and the steady beat of music playing was coming
from the speakers set up near the window. At the far end of the room, the bar
was being tended by a monster Cash didn’t recognise. He lifted a brow-bone. “a
bit extreme for a party of nine people, don’t you think?”

“Can’ be cuttin’ any
corners when it comes ta somethin’ this important,” Twist said, grinning down
at him. “Well? Aren’t ya gonna socialise with yer guests?”

Cash gave the room a
sour look. On the sofas in the left corner of the room, Red was sitting with
Papyrus and Slim, the three of them deep in conversation. A few seats away from
them, Razz appeared to be making Stretch blush, and at the bar, Edge sat alone.
Sans was nowhere in sight.

“So, who’s it gonna
be?” Twist asked, cocking his head. His eyes wandered to the three skeletons
sitting in the corner, but Cash had already made up his mind.

“think i’m gonna grab
a drink,” he mumbled, before swiftly making his way to the bar. He caught the
other skeletons looking up as he crossed the room. Stretch and Papyrus both
smiled at him, but Cash kept his head ducked.

Edge glanced up as Cash
slid into the seat beside him, his gaze raking the length of Cash’s body. “rum
and lime,” Cash told the bartender, resting his elbows on the bar. He glanced
at Edge, lifting a brow-bone. “see something you like?”

Edge cleared his
throat and quickly glanced away. “You look… decent,” he said gruffly, his
cheekbones heating.

Cash only shrugged
indifferently. “twisted’s pick.”

“He has good taste,”
Edge remarked, shooting a quick glance at Cash. He sniffed. “In clothing, I
mean.”

Cash paused for a
moment, frowning, but Edge made no further comment on the matter. One of the
things Cash enjoyed about Edge’s company, was that he seldom pushed for
conversation. They sat in silence until Cash received his drink—which he
proceeded to down in one go. Edge regarded Cash dubiously, but didn’t remark
when Cash ordered a second.

He held no such
reservations after Cash decided to go for a third however. “If you’re anything
like Stretch and Slim, I’d advise you slow down,” he told Cash, quietly.

Cash sent him a scowl,
extending his middle finger. “i know my limits, asshole.”

Edge appeared
concerned, swirling his own drink anxiously as he watched Cash. “You sound like
Stretch,” he commented, wryly.

“you would know,” Cash
replied, smirking. He silently preened when Edge blushed—noting that he quite
enjoyed seeing the look on the normally stoic monster’s face. He signalled for
another drink before turning in his seat so that he was facing Edge directly.
“you know—you don’t look half bad yourself, edgelord.” He grinned as Edge’s
blush deepened.

Edge made a valiant
attempt at composure however, lifting his brow-bones in nonchalance. “Of course
I don’t,” he said primly. “I have impeccable taste in style.” His eyes
flickered up to Cash, dropping quickly before he said, “And I’m incredibly
attractive.”

Cash smirked, sipping
his… fourth? glass of rum. Concern still lined Edge’s features as he watched
Cash, his eyes hesitating waveringly on his glass. “Maybe you should, um…”

“edgelord. if you tell
me to slow down, it’ just gonna make me wanna defy you.”

Edge shook his head
quickly. “I was going to say—maybe you should go talk to Stretch?” Cash glanced
over his shoulder to find Stretch watching them from across the room. He smiled
as Cash caught his gaze, and Cash felt some of the tension unravel inside him.
Beside him, Razz seemed to be getting a little… friendly. “It looks like he
could use your help,” Edge murmured.

Clambering off his
stool, Cash straightened his shirt. “you know what? i’m going to go talk to
your boyfriend,” he told Edge.

“Excellent idea,” Edge
said dryly, returning his attention to his drink.

Cash placed a hand on
his hip, giving Edge a questioning look. “you’re not going to join me?”

Edge shook his head.
“He’s all yours.” He considered, glancing at Stretch. “And Razz’s.”

Cash scowled, noting
how close Razz was sitting to Stretch. “i’ll go save him,” he said decisively,
finishing the remainder of his drink (it was the fourth one, right? Or… was it
the fifth?) and marching towards where Razz was leaning against Stretch. Razz
looked up as he approached, and his sockets widened briefly.

“Wow.” He blinked,
sitting up straight. “You’re looking…”

“he still looks like
an asshole to me,” Stretch interjected, smirking. Cash rolled his eyes,
dropping onto the couch beside Stretch—and effectively sandwiching him between
himself and Razz. Stretch looked a little flustered, shifting in his seat.

“that’s because i
still am an asshole,” Cash said, and Stretch laughed weakly. Cash glanced over
Stretch’s shoulder at Razz. “though please—feel free to finish your sentence.
i’m in the mood to be flattered.”

Razz simpered, taking
a sip from his glass of red wine. “I’m not sure it’s the type of compliment
you’d utter in polite company.”

Stretch glanced
between them, before leaning closer to Cash. “i think he wants to fuck you,” he
whispered—loud enough for Razz to hear.

Deep purple magic rose
to Razz’s cheekbones, and he frowned, quickly turning away and finishing the
remainder of his drink. “I… think I need a refill,” he muttered, standing
hurriedly and making his way over to the bar.

Stretch turned to Cash
and shrugged. “guess he doesn’t like being called out,” he said simply, sipping
his drink.

“though i suppose you
knew that.” Cash levelled Stretch with a knowing smile, and Stretch grinned.

“you’re welcome.”
Stretch’s cheekbones were slightly flushed—though whether it was the alcohol,
or… something else—Cash couldn’t be sure. He was smiling though, even as he
looked away and dipped his head, taking another sip of his drink.

Across the room, Cash
caught Twist watching them. He was grinning, and gave Cash a quick wink before
turning and leaving the room. Cash’s gaze wandered over to where Papyrus, Slim,
and Red were sitting. Slim glanced up, catching his eye for a moment. He
offered Cash a small smile, before turning back to Papyrus and Red. Cash’s soul
felt light.

“how have you been
then, pirate?” Stretch asked, drawing Cash’s attention away from Slim. “i…
haven’t seen much of you this past week.”

Cash nodded, feeling
guilty. “i—i’m sorry,” he said, awkwardly. In truth, being around Stretch had
been a little difficult after Cash had eliminated his brother. Though Stretch didn’t
seem to be holding it against him, at least. Cash cleared his throat, shifting
in his seat and suddenly wishing he’d been wise enough to order another drink
while he’d still been at the bar.

“you know, um…”
Stretch slowly shifted closer to Cash, their legs brushing against each other.
“razz is kind of a dick, but—well, he wasn’t lying. you do look…” Stretch
trailed off suddenly, as if his spark of confidence had dwindled.

“fuckable?” Cash
suggested, smirking as Stretch blushed hotly. Stretch quickly shook his head,
laughing faintly.

“sorry. that’s not
what i—”

“it’s alright,” Cash
murmured, leaning in. He felt Stretch twitch as he settled his hand on his
femur. Cash closed his eyes, resting his head on Stretch’s shoulder as he
rubbed smooth circles over his leg. “you always smell so nice,” he breathed,
nuzzling against Stretch. “so sweet.” He giggled softly. “like honey.”

Stretch went still
beneath him, but Cash could feel the involuntary warmth emanating from him.
Then—without warning—Stretch jumped up, coughing stiffly. “i’m uh—i’m going to
get another drink!” he declared loudly, his eyes darting away from Cash.
“oh—look, slim’s here! have fun, you two.”

Cash blinked as
Stretch hurried away, his gaze slowly travelling to Slim, who was standing a
few feet away. He rocked back and forth on his feet, his head ducked. “hey…
cash,” he said at length. He glanced over his shoulder at Stretch’s retreating
form. “sorry—was i interrupting—?”

Cash quickly waved him
off, slumping further back into the sofa’s cushions. “nah… think i scared ‘im
off, actually.” He yawned, closing his eyes. “wha’s up?”

“do you… mind if i
sit?”

Cash cracked open a
socket to find Slim watching him awkwardly, a tint of magic colouring his
cheekbones. Cash shrugged. “go for it.”

Slim sat down beside
him—significantly further away than Stretch had been, Cash noted. He regarded
Cash for a moment, his features slowly sinking into a frown. “are you… how many
have you had?” he asked, hesitantly.

Cash levelled him with
a dull look, sinking further into his seat. “don’t worry, precious—i can handle
my rum. i’ve had plenty of practice.” Slim still looked unconvinced, worry
lining his features. Sighing, Cash hoisted himself up, shuffling closer to Slim
and holding his gaze steadily (at least, what he hoped was steadily). “want me
to prove it? fine.” He stood up, lifting his brow-bones at Slim. “i’ll walk a
straight line—just for you, sweetheart.”

Slim’s frown had
softened into something a little more amused. He leaned back and folded his
arms, giving Cash a nod. “go on, then.”

Taking a deep breath,
Cash stared straight ahead, holding his arms out. The room was swaying
slightly, but he ignored it, taking a tentative step forward. Immediately, his
foot caught on… the carpet? He wasn’t certain. But the next moment he was falling,
the floor rushing towards him at an alarming speed.

A strong pair of arms
looped around his waist, holding him steady and pulling him to his feet. Cash
blinked, turning around slowly. “oh. it’s you.”

Razz folded his arms,
a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “You’re an amusing drunk, I’ll
give you that.” Cash swayed on his feet and Razz frowned, quickly catching him
with an arm around his hips. “Why don’t you sit down?” He grinned up at Cash.
“It would be a waste of a pretty face if you stumbled into the fireplace or
something.”

Cash looked at Razz,
narrowing his eye socket. “see? you were almost a nice person for a second
there.”

“I’m not a nice
person,” Razz said, flatly. Cash shrugged in agreement, and allowed Razz to
guide him back into his spot beside Slim—who appeared to be having trouble
stifling his laughter.

“s’not funny,” Cash
grumbled, resting his head in his hands. “i could’ve died.”

This only served to enhance
Slim’s giggles, and he pressed his hand over his mouth while Cash glared at
him. “sorry,” he mumbled. “but…” He glanced over Cash’s shoulder at his
brother. “you are pretty amusing.”

Cash folded his arms
and looked between the two brothers, pouting. “but—i’m still sexy, right?”

This silenced Slim
immediately, but Razz laughed softly, nodding and leaning in. “Profoundly so,”
he whispered—though surprisingly, his voice lacked its usual sultriness, and he
appeared to be keeping his hands to himself (for a change).

Cash narrowed his
sockets, unconvinced. “does that mean you want to fuck me?” he asked, an
element of teasing to his tone.

Razz lifted a
brow-bone, withdrawing. “I’ll wait until you’re sober,” he said, plainly, his
smile fading.

“why?” Cash asked,
watching him closely. He could feel Slim growing tense beside him, but his
focus was on Razz, who looked bemused.

At length, Razz sighed
deeply, his expression turning firm. “I may be an asshole, Cash—but I’m not
that kind of asshole.” Cash was silent, unable to break eye contact with Razz.

Swallowing, he nodded,
finally dropping his gaze. “right… sorry.”

Razz closed his hand
around Cash’s, smirking. “Don’t worry about it, precious.” He dipped his head,
kissing Cash’s knuckles lightly before standing. “I think I’m going to find
myself another drink—when you’re not so inebriated, come and find me and I’ll
gladly take you up on your offer.”

“maybe i will,” Cash
said loudly as Razz walked away, earning him a wink over Razz’s shoulder. He
slid further down on the sofa, humming sleepily. Beside him, Slim was fidgeting
uncomfortably, his shoulders stiff. Cash’s eye wandered up to him, and he
grinned dopily. “you know… you’re kinda sexy too.”

Slim visibly flinched,
startling and turning quickly to stare at Cash. “i—what?”

“yeah…” Cash leaned
in, pressing his face against Slim’s sternum to try and stop his head from
spinning. “hmm, an’ you smell nice—nearly as nice as honey.”

“h-honey?”

Cash pointed in the
general direction of the bar. “edgelord’s boyfriend,” he clarified, snickering
against Slim’s chest. He could feel Slim’s chest rising and falling rapidly,
and he could sense the pleasant heat of his magic when he was this close. “can
i sleep here?” he whispered, entwining his fingers in Slim’s shirt.

Slim was speechless.
Cash glanced up, grinning when Slim opened his mouth to talk—before shutting it
abruptly, his cheekbones glowing brightly.

“Wealthy Me—Small Me!”

Cash drew away,
looking up to see Papyrus and Red approaching. They sat on the sofa across from
himself and Slim, placing three small shot glasses on the coffee table. Cash
eyed them curiously.

Red was holding a
clear vodka bottle. “proposition fer ya,” he said, leaning forward and placing
the bottle heavily on the table. “three shots a’ vodka—or three minutes in the
closet with paps.”

“Red! That was not our
deal!” Papyrus levelled Red with a firm stare as he chuckled, giving a wave of
his hand.

“aw, c’mon paps—look
at ‘im. how could ya resist a face like that?”

Cash beamed at Papyrus—but
he still appeared unconvinced. “Our deal was—if
Wealthy Me could finish three shots of vodka, he would—”

“but what if i wanna spend three minutes in the closet
with you, paps?” They all turned to Cash—Papyrus looked bewildered, while Red only
seemed intrigued. To his left, Cash could feel Slim watching him suspiciously.
Rising to his feet—and catching onto Slim when he wobbled a little—Cash
stumbled over to Papyrus and Red, wedging himself between them on the sofa. He
turned to Papyrus, leaning in and cupping his face with both his hands. “you
are very, uh…” He paused, trying to conjure the right word. “pa-perfect,” he
decided, pleased with himself.

Papyrus looked
dubious, gently prying him off. “I am flattered, Wealthy Me, but I’m afraid
those are not terms I can agree to.”

Cash slouched into the
sofa’s cushions and folded his arms, pouting. “why not?”

Papyrus cleared his
throat, giving Red a deliberate look. “Well—Red was part of the bargain too!
Don’t you think you ought to offer him your affections as well?”

Languidly, Cash turned
his head to look at Red, whose cheeks were glowing. “uh—that’s alright, pap,”
Red said quickly, looking strained. “spare ‘im a little grief, why don’t ya?”

“no…” Cash hummed,
shuffling across the cushions and placing a hand on Red’s arm to balance
himself. He examined him from head to toe, before nodding decisively. “i want
you too.” He giggled to himself as Red blushed deeper, glancing over his
shoulder at Papyrus. “both of you! i want both.”

“ya need ta take the
shots first,” Red reminded Cash as he slumped forward, burying his head against
Red’s chest.

“can i just… have a
nap first?” Cash mumbled against Red’s shirt. “just here.”

“Nope!” Papyrus said,
pulling him off Red. He caught him as he slumped, holding him steady. “Shots
first.”

Cash eyed the three
glasses on the table, frowning. “they’re empty.” Somewhere in the background,
he thought he could hear snickering.

“gimme a chance,
kiddo,” Red said, clambering off the sofa. Cash watched as he filled the small
glasses. On the other side of the table, Slim was observing him with a look of
concern.

“why so glum, puppy?”
Cash asked. “it’s a party!”

Slim’s frown deepened,
and he shook his head. “don’t you think he’s had enough?” he asked quietly, glancing
between Papyrus and Red

Papyrus and Red looked
at each other for a few seconds, before simultaneously shaking their heads. “Nope!”
Papyrus said. “Keep pouring, Red.”

“it’s fer science,”
Red told Slim, winking. “we’re gonna test ta see if he can recite the alphabet
from h-to-o once he’s done. go ahead, bud,” he added once he’d finished pouring,
glancing at Cash.

Cash leaned forward,
Papyrus holding his shoulders to keep him balanced. He lifted the first glass
and tipped it back—though his magic was a little less than stable, and some of
the liquid dribbled down his chin when his tongue took a few extra seconds to
form. He laughed, sliding onto the floor and leaning against the table. “huh.
tastes like… nothing.” He frowned, licking the remainder of the vodka off his
chin. “i think there’s something wrong with me. my taste buds are gone!” He
turned frantically to look at Papyrus and Red.

Red had his face
buried in his elbow, harsh laughter shaking his chest. Papyrus was a little
more composed, but his grin was significantly broader than usual. “Perhaps you
should have another!” he said. “Just to make sure.”

Cash nodded, turning back
to the remaining two glasses. His gaze fell on Slim, who had his teeth pressed
together, as if trying to stifle his laughter. “why do you enjoy seeing me
suffer, pup?” Cash asked sulkily.

Slim blushed slightly,
shaking his head. “it’s… sweet.”

Cash couldn’t quite
comprehend what Slim was trying to say, so he reached for the second glass. But
he was stopped as someone’s hand closed around his wrist. “hey…” He glanced up,
blinking the flashing dots from his eye to try and make out who it was.

“Alrigh’, you two, ya’ve
had yer fun,” Twist said, pinning Red and Papyrus with a cold glare as he
helped hoist Cash to his feet. “Dihydrogen monoxide is no laughin’ matter.” Cash
stumbled, and Twist held him against his side. “C’mon, sweethear’—I think it’s
time fer bed… Sans?”

Cash blinked, dazed as
a second pair of arms wrapped around his torso, keeping him upright. “heya,
pal,” Sans murmured. “let’s get you upstairs, yeah?”

“where have you been?” Cash admonished, glaring at
Sans—who was wavering slightly. In fact, the entire room seemed a little
distorted.

“Sans!” Papyrus
groaned. “We’re just trying to keep our friend hydrated. Why must you rain on
our parade?”

Sans chuckled quietly,
adjusting his hold on Cash, who was having trouble remaining on his feet. “dunno
what to tell you, paps—dihydrogen monoxide is a dangerous substance.”

Still leaning against
Sans, Cash stared at Papyrus, his eyes going wide. “did you poison me?” he gasped.
To his confoundment, they all started snickering. “pa—papyrus? am i going to
die?” he reiterated, suddenly panicking.

Quickly gathering
himself, Papyrus shook his head. “I can assure you, Wealthy Me—I myself
consumed dihydrogen monoxide just this morning. And look at me! I’m completely
fine.”

“water you talking
about, bro?” Sans asked, frowning. “you’re looking a bit pale.”

Cash looked between
them suspiciously, but they only grinned at him. Tired, he leaned back into
Sans’ arms, causing him to stumble slightly. “just… take me to bed, assholes.”

“If ya say so,
Patches,” Twist murmured, helping Sans escort him across the room. Cash could
feel the amused stares of the other skeletons on him as they walked, but he
hardly had the inclination to care. He leaned into Sans, his eye sockets
fluttering closed as he was half-dragged across the main hall.

“stairs,” Sans
whispered to him, and Cash groaned softly, coming to a halt. He slumped against
Twist, who chuckled.

“Alrigh’, Patches,
here we go.” Cash gave a faint squeak of surprise as Twist lifted him into his
arms, carrying him up the stairs as Sans trailed behind them. Cash clung to
Twist, his head falling against his shoulder as drowsiness slowly began to take
over.

“fun night?” Sans
asked him. Cash hummed in response, shrugging, and Sans laughed. “seemed like
you were having a good time when i arrived.”

“where were you?” Cash
asked, his voice heavy and groggy. “didn’t see you.”

“eh…” Sans looked a
bit awkward, scratching the back of his skull. “parties aren’t really my thing.
sorry, bud.”

“s’okay,” Cash
mumbled, his eyes falling closed again.

“I managed ta track ‘im
down eventually,” Twist said as he pushed open Cash’s bedroom door. “He
promised to help clean up in case ya couldn’ stomach all that rum.”

“don’t remember
agreeing to that,” Sans said darkly, but Twist only snickered. He lay Cash
carefully on the bed, tucking a pillow beneath his head as Sans pulled his
shoes off and placed a blanket over him. Cash vaguely noticed the mattress
shifting as Sans sat down beside him.

“i’m, uh, really sorry
i couldn’t make it,” Sans said, his voice quiet. “looks like it was a wild
night.”

Cash tried to shake
his head, but he wasn’t quite sure if he managed it. Everything was spinning. “thanks
for… helping me. i like my bed.”

Sans chuckled, patting
his shoulder. “you and me both, bud.” Surveying Cash for a few moments, he
asked, “you gonna be okay?” Cash only hummed softly in response, already succumbing
to sleep. He felt Sans give his arm a gentle squeeze. “take care of yourself,
pal,” he murmured, before standing and heading for the door.

“We’ll see ya
tomorrow, Patches,” Twist called. “Ceremony’s at noon.”

Groaning, Cash buried his
face in his pillow, praying for the sweet release of sleep.

Who will Cash eliminate this round?

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