What Is The Gaster Blaster'S Origin In Undertale?

When I was seven, my constant vomiting got so bad that my mother took me to court and accused me of being born dangerous. If the charge stuck, I would be stripped of my family ties and sent straight to prison. Everyone said my mother was overreacting. "He's just a kid. Kids get sick. As his mother, you should be more understanding." But the moment the evidence was shown, the room went dead quiet. My mother had drunk herself into a stomach bleed just to land a contract, and the second she got home, I threw up all over it. The deal was voided, and she lost her job on the spot. On my sister, Ophelia Sowle's, birthday, I threw up all over her cake right in front of all her classmates. After that, she was shunned by everyone at school. She spiraled into depression and even slashed her wrists. It didn't matter where I was, at the dinner table or under the covers. I could start vomiting at any moment. My mother and Ophelia had to clean me up more than 30 times a day. It wore them down to the breaking point. What infuriated them the most was that every time I finished throwing up, I would look at them and laugh, as if I was mocking them. The judge brought the gavel down and declared me guilty of being born bad. Ophelia's eyes turned red as she cried, saying she couldn't bear to lose me. I didn't cry or fight it. I accepted the verdict. But I requested that the judge watch my memories first. The judge looked stunned. "Memory extraction means drilling into your brain. The pain is unbearable. Are you sure?" I nodded without hesitation. But Ophelia suddenly panicked. "I don't agree!"

To pay off my student loans, I started doing spicy streams online. I never thought I'd actually blow up. Every night, my audience floods the chat, fawning over my face and my body. I love the attention, and I work hard to give them what they want. Until I was dropped into a horror game. The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a rotting corpse. And for some reason, my livestream was still running. When the game’s Boss told us all to pick a weapon to die by. The other players all chose to die of old age, or peacefully in their sleep like a baby. I turned my phone to face the boss. "My fans think you're hot," I stammered. "They want me to be killed by... well, by the weapon between your legs. They said 'deeply.' Is that... an option?" The other players whispered among themselves. “This woman must have a death wish.” “Just watch. The Boss is about to tear her to shreds.” But no one expected the Boss to blush.

10 years earlier, Jason drives down a dark deserted road on his way home from a birthday party, when he sees a red haired woman walking along side the road. Picking her up, he finds out that she is not what he thinks she is. Instead, he ends up losing his soul. Spending the next 10 years of his life looking over his shoulder, he eventually comes to the realization that the only way to get his soul back is to kill her. Does he find and kill her or does she haunt him for eternity. Find out in The Soul Eater.

I sell burritos in a horror game. All the ghosts would come to my place and buy a tasty burrito after they got off work. That was until one day, my ex-husband, who was obsessed with abusing me, joined the game as a player. He brought a group of people to my store and trashed the place. They ruined all the ingredients I had. When the Bosses finished their overtime and saw their pre-ordered burritos on the ground in pieces, their eyes became dark, and they were immediately infuriated. The Patchwork Monster was so angry that the stitches on its body were beginning to break. It started ripping the players apart. The Eight-Armed Maiden’s hair fanned out and pierced many players. The Wedding Dress Maiden suddenly became a giant and started eating the players one by one. The Bosses were willing to work overtime and maintain the operations of the dungeons overnight just so that they could have a burrito. That night, all the players were sleeping when they were forced to join a horror game.

As a dive engineer, I need to go down into the shaft to retrieve a drill bit in order to speed up construction on the 800-million-dollar construction project before Independence Day. Little do I know that I've barely made my way down the shaft when I realize I don't have enough oxygen to last the journey. Amid my panic, I completely lose my sense of direction. So, I dig out my wireless radio in an attempt to communicate with my fiancee, Viola Jenkins. But all I hear is her laughter over the radio. "Aren't you all high and mighty, Elden? I'd like to see how long you can last underwater without oxygen!" Her first love, Ron Carey, adds, "Just sit back and watch the show, Viola! He'll definitely beg you to open the manhole cover for him when the time comes!" That's when I realize Viola and Ron have allied together to kill me. Not only have they closed the manhole cover, but they've also cut off my life-saving oxygen supply. After ensuring that the manhole cover cannot be moved at all, I begin crying for help weakly into the radio. "Hurry… Open the cover for me… I'm running out of oxygen…" Viola's contemptuous voice drifts from the radio. "It's only been five minutes. Why are you playing the pity card already? This is Ron's first time in a construction site, so he's inhaling some oxygen from the canister because he's already lacking in oxygen. You can wait for a while. "If you have the time to moan about the lack of oxygen, you might as well use it to retrieve the drill bit. Stop dilly-dallying around, Elden! You seriously think I'll keep you around if you don't pull your weight around here?" With gnashed teeth, I cover 65 feet downward in the shaft. With the last bit of oxygen in my lungs, I place my hands on the drill bit that's stuck in the deepest part of the shaft that can determine whether or not the 800-million-dollar construction project will be a hit or miss. I'd like to see if Viola and Ron will be able to reap the benefits from this project just by killing me off in the shaft!

It was my third day working as an NPC cashier in a horror game when the supermarket got completely wrecked by players. They stormed in, smashing shelves, looting everything, setting fires, feeling real proud of themselves. "Told you the shopkeeper here was useless. Absolutely trash in all combat stats," one said. "Grab whatever you want. Once we're done, we'll just kill the owner," another chimed in. My mouth was gagged. I shook my head in terror. One of the players sneered. "Begging? That won't save you." No! That was not what I was trying to say! I was trying to tell them that today was the NPC internal shopping day. Three minutes from now, every single dungeon boss in the entire game would be rushing here to shop.