Chapter 89

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After a few minutes, Burgerpants looked up and realized they weren't alone.

"Calibri?" Burgerpants asked in surprise. "What are you doin' up here?"

Calibri waved as Frisk looked up at him. He looked and Frisk and waved at him, too. Now that Frisk could get a good look at him, he noticed he was wearing black jeans and a red and black-striped tank top.

Frisk let go of Burgerpants' shirt and wiped his tears before he said, "Hey. Thanks for helping me earlier."

Calibri simply nodded.

"Hey, Calibri," Burgerpants began. "I don't mean to be rude, but I think we need some more alone time."

Calibri moved his hands in quick and expressive gestures. Frisk widened his eyes as he realized he was speaking sign language.

"Really?" Burgerpants replied. "How do you want to help?"

"You understand sign language?" Frisk asked turning to look at Burgerpants.

"A little bit," Burgerpants said. "We both work around the hotel and the studio, so I've picked up on some things."

"Is Calibri deaf?" Frisk asked.

Before Burgerpants could answer, they both heard a quiet, hoarse voice reply, "I'm not deaf."

Frisk and Burgerpants turned to Calibri who blew a cloud of teal magic out from his mouth that turned into words as he signed with his hands.

"I'M MUTE," Calibri's words read.

"Mostly," Calibri said quietly with a smile. "Don't worry. I'll translate."

"I THINK I KNOW A WAY TO HELP YOU GET BACK AT METTATON," Calibri's subtitles said.

"What?" Frisk asked. "How? Why are you helping us? Who are you anyways?"

"MIND IF I ANSWER THOSE QUESTIONS BACKWARDS? I'M CALIBRI. I'M ONE OF METTATON'S BACK-UP MUSICIANS AND STAGEHANDS BY DAY, AND BY NIGHT, I'M PART OF AN UNDERGROUND ALTERNATIVE ROCK BAND CALLED 'ANTI-METTATON.' IT'S A WORKING TITLE. ANYWAY, WORKING FOR METTATON HAS SUCKED SO MUCH…" the subtitles read.

"Tell me about it," Burgerpants said.

"Seems to be a recurring theme around here," Frisk added.

Calibri smiled and continued, "I CAN'T STAND HIS STUPID SHOW. SURE, IT MAKES PEOPLE HAPPY, BUT IT'S SO EMPTY AND PRETENTIOUS. ALL METTATON DOES IS PROMOTE HIS BRAND AND FILL PEOPLE'S HEADS WITH MEANINGLESS CRAP. MEANWHILE, MUSICIANS LIKE ME AND MY BAND MEMBERS ARE TRYING TO DO SOMETHING MEANINGFUL AND WE'RE BARELY SCRAPING BY IN THE UNDERGROUND'S RADIO INDUSTRY. IT MAKES ME SICK. I TRIED ASKING METTATON IF WE CAN BE ON THE SHOW, BUT HE SAYS WE'RE NOT MARKETABLE ENOUGH. WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?! HE'S SO…"

"Cal, I hate to interrupt, but…" Burgerpants interrupted. "We're on a bit of a tight schedule here."

"Right," Calbri said out loud before he went back to signing. "NOW'S NOT THE TIME FOR A RANT. ANYWAY, I CAN'T STAND THAT ROBOT OR WHAT HE'S DOING TO YOU, SO I'M HERE TO HELP."

"That's great," Frisk replied. "But what can we do? He's taken my family away."

Calibri smiled and signed, "WE'RE GOING TO RUIN HIS SHOW."

"What?!" Burgerpants asked.

"How?" Frisk asked.

"I KNOW YOU KNOW THE ANSWER TO THAT ALREADY," Calibri signed. "YOU DIDN'T PLAY THAT GRUNGE SONG WITH THAT DRUG PARAPHERNALIA REFERENCE JUST BECAUSE YOU FELT LIKE IT. YOU PLAYED IT ON PURPOSE. YOU WERE TRYING TO MAKE HIS RATINGS FALL. NOW, WHAT DO YOU THINK METTATON WOULD DO IF YOU MADE HIS RATINGS DROP ALL THE WAY TO ZERO AND HIS ENTIRE AUDIENCE DECIDED THEY HATED YOU?"

Burgerpants visibly panicked, and Frisk flashed a devilish smile as his HP gained another point.

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