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kawaiibobatea-blog · 6 years

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Chapter 14: Exodus

So here I am with another chapter. I like this chapter and while it’s not the exact turning point I was hoping for, I think I got pretty close to my idea and hope I’ll be able to get even closer as more chapters go on.

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Soft exhaled whispers roused Frisk from her slumber. Blinking against the curtain haze beckoning her back to peaceful slumber, she turned over and studied the growing amount of light shining in the curtains. From its current position, it couldn’t be 8 AM. Frisk got up and yawned, staggering to her door. Heading to the bathroom on the second floor, the previously unidentifiable sounds Frisk now recognized as her mother’s soft weeping. Toriel never cried. The only time that Frisk had heard her cry was when she bid her farewell back in the Underground sure that was going to be the last time they’d ever see each other. Passing the original destination of the bathroom, she tiptoed to the outside of her parents’ room and listened in.

“Tori… please don’t cry.”

Frisk identified the groaning of the springs in the mattress. Asgore would always sit next to and comfort anyone who was crying. Someone as big as him couldn’t stand to see anyone cry or even remotely upset. When Frisk was growing up, she kept remembering when Papyrus had called him a “big, fuzzy pushover” and had to hand it to Papyrus; the description was spot on. He was a big, fuzzy teddy bear who was always able to make people stop crying… except for now. Despite her husband’s pleas, Toriel continued to cry—except harder, but still tried to keep it muffled most likely to not wake her.

“I… I thought I was good at it.”

“Tori, you are.”

“If I was, this wouldn’t have happened, would it not?”

“Tori… something has to be wrong. This isn’t right.”

“What about the children?”

Small affirmations of consolation did nothing to make Toriel stop her crying. Frisk bit her lip and hesitated at the doorknob. If she opened it, her parents would know that she had been eavesdropping. It wasn’t a very honorable pastime, she knew. Yet, if she didn’t catch the action happening and she asked her mother later if she had been crying, it would’ve been covered up to prevent her from worrying, which of course in turn would only make her worry more. Weighing her options, Frisk took a deep breath and turned the doorknob cracking the door.

“… Mom?” Frisk murmured. “Dad?”

“F-Frisk.” Toriel said, her voice wavering despite her best efforts to cover it up. “Come in my child.”

The inside of her parents’ room was how it had been all her life on the Surface. It was cozy with a large bed at the center. A small desk decorated the corner with various odds and ends of varying significance littered about the surface. The blue pastel walls were decorated with pictures of different events throughout their time as a family. Toriel was sitting on the edge of her side of the bed, a forced smile on her loving face while Asgore sat next to her with an equally forced smile on his. Slowly, she walked into the room, wiggling her toes in the plush white carpet, eyes turned on it as well. When they first found the place, Frisk had wondered as a kid if they wanted a white carpet, so it wasn’t obvious of how much fur they shed. Over the years, she learned that it was easier for her mother to decorate the way she wanted, but still liked the idea.

“Mom…?” Frisk asked, curling her toes. “Why were you crying?”

“Crying?” Toriel asked all the while, Frisk noticed she was making sure not to let any hint of sadness touch her face. “I wasn’t crying.”

Frisk looked from the carpet and looked at her parent’s faces. Both forced smiles did nothing to hide the sadness and worry that was reflecting in their eyes. She took a step towards them and frowned, not fooled in the least bit.

“Mom… I heard you from my room.” She admitted and then motioned to the spots around her eyes. “Your fur is wet here… Please Mom… I’m not a kid anymore.” Of course, Frisk knew to them she would always be their kid. With the huge age gap between the monsters and humans, it would be fair to act in such a way.

None of the company in the room spoke. A small human girl waited to rebuttal any excuse that her monster parents threw her way. Gazes locked and neither party backed down. Each wanted answers, but for different things. Frisk went over to her parents and knelt on the floor in front of them. She reached out and grabbed onto her mother’s large paw and squeezed it reassuringly. It seemed to be all she needed because tears filled her large eyes before they fell down her face again.

“Oh, Frisk,” Toriel began and used her other paw to pet her daughter’s hair. “I got a call just before we went to bed.”

“From who…?”

“The superintendent at the school.”

“Yeah? What did he want?” Frisk asked, but inside, she was sure she already knew.

“I was told not to come back, that… that I am being replaced.”

Mom…

“You what?”

“I was fired… I am no longer a teacher.”

Toriel started to cry again and Asgore hugged his wife. Frisk stood up and squeezed her mother’s hand. It was all that Toriel had wanted to do and had worked for since they arrived at the Surface. She had wanted to be a teacher and see children smile and learn. For someone to take that away from her…? It was beyond forgiveness. Toriel always took care of the children like they were her own and did not discriminate on any basis; gender, race, wealth, parents, or species. Many years, Toriel had been named the number one teacher at Ebott Academy. To up and take her livelihood away from her, she bet her mother felt like laying down and dying.

“I’ll fix this Mom.”

“No Frisk,” Toriel said and looked at her daughter. “do not get involved.”

“Mom—”

“Promise me, Frisk.”

Frisk and Toriel stared at each other before Frisk sighed and shook her head.

“I can’t.”

“Tori, maybe Frisk can figure out what’s happening.”

“I don’t want my daughter to get involved. I’m supposed to take care of her.”

“Mom… You have taken care of me. Both of you have.” Frisk assured her. “If something went wrong, I have to look into it. I have to at least see why, even if I can’t fix it.”

Frisk was about to leave to get dressed and head out when she was stopped by a warm grip from Toriel. When she turned and looked, her tears had stopped, and her gaze had turned from sad to worried.

“Frisk, my child. While I know I cannot stop you, please let me warn you; please do not get yourself into trouble.” Toriel said softly.

“Frisk. Be careful… Something’s… wrong.” Asgore said, comforting his still saddened wife.

Frisk nodded and went to the door. Just as she went through it she sighed and looked down at the flooring.

“Mom… Dad…” Frisk began. “While I’m gone… check the internet for Ebott’s news the past week.”

Frisk got dressed all the while thinking about what had possessed the superintendent to right out fire Toriel. It could only be more bad news. It seemed like everything was happening one right after another. Usually she was able to get a hold on these situations, but… now it felt like everything was out of her grip and she was powerless. It was one of the worst feelings that she had ever known. Just as Frisk had picked a scarf from her closet, she heard a loud sob from her parent’s room. She hung her head and exhaled shakily, knowing that Toriel was now aware of Rebekah’s untimely demise. She swallowed the lump in her throat while her mother continued to mourn her deceased friend. Quickly swinging her scarf around her neck and putting on her boots at the door, Frisk exited her home and into the silence of the outside.

Frisk huddled into herself, shivering with a bite of wind gnawing at her coat. Ebott was quiet this early which, unfortunately, only fueled the train atop the one track of thought. She tried to focus on something, anything else: the crunch of the snow under her feet, trying to avoid the ice forming on the sidewalks, or even the snowflakes melting on various spots of her anatomy. Toriel’s cries bashed against the small wall she had erected inside her mind to separate her feelings from her duty. Hopefully this had all been a misunderstanding… her mother hadn’t gotten fired, just… just something. Frisk wasn’t sure how the educational system worked as she was buried in her own niche of papers daily. The one thing she was aware of, however, was the injustice that would’ve been carried out had Toriel truly been fired. And, if she was, then for what reason. From her mild understanding of the system; either a teacher quit or was to be proved unfit to teach students. A quick flash of all the small trophies for educational excellence Toriel had earned over the years flashed in her mind’s eye. They weren’t exactly valuable, but they were some of her mother’s most prized possessions. It was proof that she had achieved her dream, and in doing so, were helping children along the way to start the path to their own dreams.

The large gate of Ebott Academy surrounded the school with well-kept topiary now donned with snow hats dotting the just as white lawn. She crossed the rather lengthy distance from the gate’s entrance to the front door. When Frisk yanked on the door, it didn’t want to open as small crystals of ice had formed on the crevice flush against the hinges. With a couple of grunts and a loud crack coming from her shoulder, the academy door was forced open.

Warmth dipped into her body upon entry and Frisk quickly closed the door to keep it in the building and trap the cold outside. She took off her striped gloves and stared at them for a moment before shoving them into her pocket and heading to the stairs to the other floors. With every step, a larger weight settled into her stomach. While she had promised she’d get to the bottom of the sudden termination, it hadn’t rid her of the fear of what she would find. Her heeled boots echoed against the tiled floor with every hesitant step she took in the faculty offices. Many of them she recognized from having been teachers of her own many years ago. Others were replaced with younger teaches as the elder ones retired. She saw her mother’s office door and frowned. She’d get her mother back in that office if it was the last thing that she did. At the very end of the faculty offices, Frisk was met with a door with Bradley Beckett engraved on the plate.

“Come in.” Frisk heard, slightly muffled from the opposite side of the door. Bradley Beckett had been a very understanding and trusting individual in the school system for many years. His hair had visibly grayed over the time that she had known him, and his once broad shoulders seemed to slump and shrink. He hadn’t looked up from the documents he was scanning upon her entry. Even still, she could see the furrow in his brows undoubtedly from whatever news he had received printed on the document seeming to stare back at him just as intensely as he was staring at it.

“Excuse me Sir.” Frisk began. “Could I speak with you for just a few moments?”

Beckett looked up from his desk and took her in with widened eyes. He sat up and cleared his throat meeting eye contact.

“What can I do for you, Miss Dree—”

“Let’s skip the pleasantries Sir.” Frisk demanded. “You know why I’m here.”

“In regard to your mother’s termination, correct?” Beckett sighed and leaned his head against the back of his chair, his lids covering his eyes. Frisk could practically feel how deflated he was from her sudden appearance. Of course, he had to know it was coming sooner or later and whatever had caused this wasn’t going to remain secret—at least not to her—forever.

“Yes.” Frisk affirmed, resolute in her signature determination to right this wrong.

“Miss Dreemurr, I have always tried to be a fair man.” Beckett announced. “Over the years, I have tried to remain neutral and keep everyone happy. After all, we’re all after the same thing here; take care of children and see them grow.” A pause. “That’s what every teacher wants to see, what every parent wants to see.” Opening his eyes and glancing down at Frisk whose attention was captured if rather warily, he continued. “However, I’m only one person. I can’t do everything. I can’t make everyone happy.” His attention fully focused on Frisk, they stared into each other’s eyes each asking and answering multiple questions without speaking. Neither were strangers to peacekeeping and mediating.

“… Who?”

“You know I can’t give you that information…”

“Why? Why?” Frisk begged, tears pricking behind her eye sockets.

“I’ve received many complaints over the past few months from parents.” Beckett breathed. “Many of them were asking for their children to transfer to another teacher’s class. We only have so many teachers for certain grades, and when they were told as such… they demanded higher measures be taken. We tried to hold out for as long as we could, but… yesterday morning, we received a paper from City Hall… detailing the order of Mrs. Dreemurr’s termination.” Beckett took the paper that he had been staring at when she arrived and handed it to her.

The document was a couple pages long, but it might as well have been two lines long. The blatant hatred from the excerpts taken from some of the complaints quoted in the order were overflowing. She closed her eyes and furrowed her brows; shaking her head in utter disbelief. Frisk bit her bottom lip, blinking back tears from the closing of the order.

It is with deep regret that we of City Hall hereby revoke Toriel Dreemurr’s teaching license and terminate her employment at Ebott Academy based on attempting to manipulate the minds of Ebott’s youth and the fears of the parents of these children. In addition, Mrs. Dreemurr is hereby forbade from teaching in Ebott City and barred from ever attempting to regain her teaching license regardless of time passed.

The document fell to the floor while Frisk stood cemented to her spot. Ebott might as well have taken her life. Teaching was the very thing she wanted to do with her life, and she had not only been fired, but she had been barred from ever teaching again. Frisk’s blue eyes darted back and forth along the floor in Beckett’s office as if the answer would be lodged in the grains of the flooring. There were so many things she wanted to say; to scream. To protest. To beg. Yet, nothing would come out. She remained standing, shaking in place. How was she going to break this to her mother? That she had also lost her teaching license and was not allowed to try again. A soft jingling called Frisk’s attention to Bradley Beckett’s hand. The light of the office shined off an immaculate silver key. She closed her eyes, knowing instantly what that was and what she’d have to do next.

“I’m truly sorry to have to ask this of you Frisk…” Beckett confessed. “Will you clean out Toriel’s office? Normally, the teacher would be able to do that, but… I don’t think she could bear to do it even if she could.”

“What do you mean ‘even if she could’?” Frisk inquired. Is there a chance that it could possibly get worse?

“Toriel… isn’t allowed on school property any longer.”

“… Alright.”

The key felt cold in her hands and the tumblers releasing the lock seemed louder than normal as if they were crying as well for the loss of the warm mother and teacher whose office they belonged to. The box dropped to the floor, the weight too much for Frisk to hold on to. Every tiny piece of Toriel’s office had some meaning attached to it; placed just so for a very specific reason solely known to her. When Frisk took off one of the books from the shelf, it felt sacrilegious that she was disrupting her mother’s livelihood because of some monster phobic humans. Book by book, Frisk took them off the shelf, placing them into the box with a systematic approach. On the walls, eleven in total, were photos of every class that Toriel had taught since becoming a teacher. The very first one Frisk took off the wall and saw how happy her mother looked with the children surrounding her with Frisk standing right next to her. A small droplet fell onto the photo, bubbling and magnifying Toriel’s smile. She looked up, blinking rapidly to dry her tears before they could start fully. It was in vain however, as when her eyes lay on the discolored wall where the photo had been the tears fell at full force and Frisk hung her head as they fell to the green carpet littered here and there with white fur.

Frisk trudged through the snow back home. The box clutched in her grasp was weighed down with not only the physical possessions inside, but that of the many memories attached to the items. The smiles, the tears, the happiness, the sorrow. Her knees locked and buckled, sending her crashing into the snow below. Tears continued to fall stinging her cheeks when the cold breeze hit them. Gloved hands clutched harder to the cardboard that held her mother’s life. Her head lolled forward, shoulders shaking with the tremors of her painful sobs. When she became older and more aware of all situations, Frisk had devoted herself to taking care of the very people that had taken care of her through her whole life. Every fear of being a failure washed into her, crushing her like houses beneath a tsunami. She had tried so hard to make things easier for everyone. She had tried so hard to make her friends and her family smile and happy. She had tried so, so hard.

Time was a fleeting thing as it passed without her knowledge of how long she had been collapsed in the snow. She had been there so long the snow had melted around her to seep into the fabric of her clothes. The snow that had fallen onto her shoulders and hat had to be a few centimeters. The sharp pain associated with every intake of air crushed her lungs, begging her to get somewhere warmer. Slowly, Frisk pressed herself off the slushed puddle of snow and took a shaking step forward. With every step she took, she was becoming keenly aware of how cold her body had become. Her legs were numb, it hurt her to breathe, her fingers were frozen and felt like they’d break with any forced movement. Her eyelashes were clumped together, and her face was red from the cold and wind burn. All the way, she kept wondering how she was going to tell her mother what had happened, how blatantly evil the order from City Hall had been. Penetrating her thoughts, were her mother’s cries of betrayal and sadness.

The house that used to be welcoming and loving now felt like the ending of happiness. Once she went in the house and Toriel saw her, she would know without words that the decision was final. With a deep breath that left her with a stabbing pain in her lung, Frisk entered the home. She should’ve been relieved to have the warmth of the home engulf her; welcome her. However, it felt like she didn’t deserve such love and comfort. The warmth was taunting her; making her feel so separated from the comfort. Large footprints came downstairs and stopped at the edge of the stairs. Both Toriel and Asgore stared at their daughter who looked down at the box of memories.

“I tried…” She said. When she looked up, she saw Toriel’s cries renew. Determined to keep her own in as to not worry her mother more, Frisk walked over to them and handed her the remains of her teaching career. Everything that Toriel was, was kept inside that box that she clutched so tightly to her chest. Frisk stared at her mother memorizing everything in the box, no doubt recalling memories attached to each that she was unaware of. “I’m sorry.”

During the past month and a half, the snow had become more furious; more unforgiving. More questions were being risen and less were being answered. The only good news that she had gotten was that Bonnie had been released from the hospital. Yet, when Frisk had tried to go to her home to visit her, she was met with a human running the shop. When Frisk had asked about Bonnie’s whereabouts, the human had displayed ignorance. Whether it was a feint or not she had been unable to determine. Her walks to and from the Ambassador’s Office was met with less and less people and her desk was less and less full of papers. At first, she had been glad to have a break from the overwhelming flood of papers; complaints, thanks, or papers that needed her signature.

“Frisk!” The young woman blinked, stopping the unconscious spinning she was doing in her chair and stared at the people in front of her. “Hey, are you with us?”

“Jason? Adam?” Frisk asked, blinking seeing Jason wave a manila folder in front of her. She adjusted herself in her chair and flinched when the folder was dropped on her desk with a loud thud.

“Hey, you alright?” Jason asked, leaning on her desk and watching her.

“Y-Yeah, of course. I was just lost in my thoughts.” Frisk said rubbing the base of her neck. “So, what’s this about?”

“We need your signature on these papers.” Adam said, nodding his head at the folder with a sidelong glance at Jason.

“That so?” Frisk asked, undoing the clasp and looking at the papers. Inside, detailed were the same papers she had been met with semi-annually. Just detailing the conditions of her renewal as the Ambassador and what the job entailed along with the understanding of the proper channels requests and the like must go through coming in or out of Frisk’s office. It was also an agreement, that although she was the Ambassador to the monsters, that she must remain neutral if she were ever to appear in court trials, asked to testify, etc. “Ah.” She reached into the cup on her desk and grabbed a pen. “Well, I’m glad I have at least something to sign.”

“Been quiet for you lately, huh?” Adam chuckled, leaning against the wall.

“You have no idea.” Frisk said, glancing up at him.

Adam Beckett. The son of Bradley Beckett. He had been in Frisk’s class when Frisk returned to the Surface with the monsters. He had always been kind and caring, even in class. Adam had always been at Frisk’s side and had attended many of her birthday parties growing up. He had also been very close to Toriel, finding a mother figure in her as his own had left when he was three. Adam had retained his calm and peaceful demeanor into adulthood, only choosing to get close to a select few people. His physical appearance was almost identical to his father’s younger version; black hair with green eyes and a shy, white smile. Adam was up for taking after his father once he retired, and if his little chats around the water cooler were to be believed, he was rather excited at the prospect of being able to take over after his father.

“Well, they say no news is good news, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s boring too.” Frisk declared, capping the pen and staring at it for a moment, fingering the tiny places where the covering had been worn down. It had been the first pen she’d ever used as the Ambassador. Back then, it had been used to sign her name to accept the position. A small smile overcame her face. She remembered how excited she had been when Sans had gotten the pen for her. He had told her to calm down, that it was just a pen. He had asked her if all humans got excited over small things like that, or if it was just her. Sometimes she found herself wondering the same thing. Nowadays, Frisk only used it to sign important papers such as renewals or laws that would affect monsters as the ink was becoming sparser. “Anyway, here you go.” She stamped her seal next to her name on the final page and rebolstered the papers back into the folder and handed it to Jason.

“See ya later babe.” Jason said and smirked at her before leaving.

“Well, I better get going. It was nice to see you again, Frisk.” Adam said and took a step towards the door and stopped.

“Is there something else—” Frisk’s voice was cut off when a small package was hastily placed on her desk. The door closed a few moments after Adam’s quick retreat.

The small package was wrapped in red paper and golden ribbon. She looked at the door and then back at the box in her hands. Carefully, she undid the clumsy tape and unwrapped it. Inside was an elongated black velvet box and a smaller package. Her head leaned to the side and she opened the box. Inside was a small picture of them as children. She had both hands up in a V with a wide gap-toothed smile while a shy Adam stood next to her with an awkward smile. This picture was taken just after they had become good friends and she had invited him over to play. Adam was her first human friend and Frisk had been his first friend. Adam had always been taller than all the other kids, which he sometimes got made fun of. Due to his birthday, he was also always the oldest kid in the class and sometimes he got picked on and accused of being stupid. She sat the frame on her desk and smiled, admiring the black frame that said ‘Friends’ at the bottom. Her attention turned to the elongated black velvet box. She opened it with a little force and blinked. Inside was a folded-up piece of paper and a black and gold old-fashioned fountain pen. She took out the pen and saw that the exterior was merely old-fashioned, but she would be able to refill it if it got too low. Frisk took the paper and unfolded it, looking at the awkward letters that had barely changed over the years. The only difference was that it was an elegant awkward.

Frisk,

I bet you were shocked when I suddenly came back to Ebott. I know I was shocked to find out how far the town had come in such a short amount of time. Seeing you after all these years, it made me happy. The fact that you let me come back into your life made me even more happy. The years haven’t changed the fact that I’m still terrible at making friends. The talks around the water cooler have been stereotypically humorous. I just wanted to say, that I really enjoy being back here… With you.

When I was unpacking, I found a box full of memories and memorabilia from over the years. Inside the box, among other things, were two copies of this picture. I think that I accidentally got a hold of both copies somehow, so I wanted to give you yours. The frame fits really well, I think. I hope you do too…

And the pen, well… I noticed that yours was getting old and you were using it less and less. When Dad showed you his fountain pen when we were kids, after lunch in second grade, you were enraptured with them afterwards. So when I saw this one, I knew I had to get it for you. It’s refillable too, but I’m sure that you already noticed that.

That way, you can use this one and use the older one for only the extremely important documents. I remember how happy you were when Sans gave you that pen, so I know how important it is to you. Make sure you save that ink for really important documents. Anyway, I hope you like your gifts.

Happy Birthday Frisk,

Adam.

P.S. My handwriting got a lot better right? And I stopped writing “um” and now I just think it.

Frisk looked at the letter and chuckled a little at the last line. She remembered when Adam and her would write essays for class or just answers to a question, he tended to write “um” whenever he thought it, instead of just gathering his thoughts before writing again. The fact that he remembered all that, she was glad to have him as a friend. When Adam moved, she was sure that she was never going to see him again. Granted, she was old enough to leave Ebott on her own, she had no idea where he had gone. It had hurt her that her only human friend had left, but now that he was back, they could pick up where they left off. She took the letter and smoothed it out and unlocked her desk drawer and placed it carefully in there, locking it back.

Frisk took the pen and looked it over again. Engraved so it could be seen when she wrote was Frisk Dreemurr. Honestly, she didn’t even want to think about how expensive this pen had been. From Adam’s letter, she knew that he was aware that she didn’t care about price and just considered the thought behind it. Gently, she placed the pen into the cup with the rest of her writing utensils.

“Happy Birthday…” Frisk muttered, her eyes shooting open. “Happy Birthday!”

She stood up so fast that her chair flew back and knocked against the wall. It was her birthday! Quickly gathering her coat, scarf, hat, and mittens she quickly put them on during her way to the exit. Frisk ran back towards her home. With every birthday that passed, she seemed to forget more and more about it. She staggered and slid some more of the ice that had crystallized itself on the sidewalk on her rush home. Toriel always baked the best cake and pie in the whole entire world on her birthday. Frisk wished that she could at least try to believe that she couldn’t believe she had forgotten her birthday, but truth be told she would’ve been shocked if she had’ve remembered that it was her birthday. Frisk fell on her butt with a loud grunt and struggled to get up.

“Stupid ice!” She exclaimed, pushing herself up and extending her arms to steady herself. When Frisk had stopped wobbling and was not worried about the possibility of her butt meeting the hard ground again, she tentatively stepped around the patches of ice before running back towards her home.

When Frisk burst inside of her home, she saw a group of her friends along with her mother and father standing in the living room.

“Happy Birthday Frisk!” They all exclaimed in unison, clapping and confetti flew everywhere.

Frisk giggled and admired the small party that had been prepared for her. True to tradition, she could smell the cake and the pie cooling in the kitchen. Streamers were attached to the ceiling and hanging down in various places. Blue and red intertwined giving a wonderful and somewhat nostalgic aura around the living room. Napstablook floated in the corner where his laptop had been perched on a table, plugged into the wall. It looked like it had seen better days from the position she was seeing it from. If she was to get another for him, she wondered if he would accept it or insist on keeping a hold on his old one.

“I’m so sorry I’m late guys. I—”

“You no doubt forgot it was your birthday, correct?” Toriel asked, a small smile on her face.

It had been hard on Toriel since she received the full news of her predicament. Her smiles had become non-existent for a while. Her mother looked like the walking dead and was hardly eating. For a while, Frisk was wondering if she was going to end up burying her mother. Then her smile had returned, but it was extremely rare. Each one was like a gem that the person was gifted and lucky enough to see it. During that step of her recovery, she would start being seen more downstairs and in the kitchen. While Toriel had still cried, the fits came less and were further in between. When she did have an episode, it tore at Frisk and Asgore’s heart. Frisk would hold her mother until she stopped crying. The more time passed, the more Toriel smiled. Granted, Toriel wasn’t fully healed yet and sometimes would still choke up and cry a heart wrenching sob, it was very rare. Just as rare as her smiles had been in the beginning. Frisk was thankful that the news about her teaching career wasn’t enough to snuff out the fire that was her mother’s life and will to live.

“Guilty…” Frisk admitted and shrugged slightly. “But, I came as fast as I could.”

Frisk looked around. Everyone looked tired save herself, Toriel, and Asgore. Even Napstablook looked tired. She wondered how it was possible for a ghost to look exhausted, but at least he wore the look well. Toriel clasped her large paws together and smiled at everyone.

“How about we give Frisk the gifts, while the food is cooling, yes?” Toriel suggested. “Grillby will be here shortly with the food.”

Frisk blushed and sat down on the chair her mother had brought her. This was the second most awkward moment in any birthday party. The first was, and always would be, having “Happy Birthday” sung to you.

Muffet put out a dish of pastries out and handed it to Frisk.

“These are my gift to you, Dearie~” Muffet smiled, showing her trademark fangs. Frisk loved Muffet’s desserts. “I hope you enjoy them. Sorry there isn’t as much this year, I ran out of ingredients yesterday and haven’t been able to go to the store to get some more yet.”

“No, they’re perfect Muffet. Thank you.” Frisk said and took a bite and smiled bright.

“……….oh.” Napstablook muttered from the corner where his laptop was at. “i made you this spook-tacular mix.” He floated over to her and handed her a jewel case with a CD in it. While Napstablook’s music was very different and wasn’t for everyone, she personally loved it. He always put in the perfect amount of thought for each and every song to create the perfect CD for her each and every time.

“Thanks, Blooky.” Frisk smiled. “This is going to be awesome, I know it.”

“This is from Alphys, me, and Mettaton.” Undyne smiled and handed her the rectangle shaped package. Frisk looked at the two who were smiling and ripped open the package. Inside were a couple volumes of Frisk’s favorite manga and a DVD anime series.

“This is amazing, guys.” Frisk flipped through the pages, inhaling the scent of paper. “Thanks so much.”

“THE DVD IS FROM ME.” Mettaton clarified.

“You know me so well, Mettaton.”

“OF COURSE. IT’S THE ONLY ANIME YOU NEVER STOP TALKING ABOUT.”

“Oh, here my child. This is from your father and I.” Toriel said and handed her a small black velvet box. It reminded her of the box the pen that Adam bought her had been in. She ran her hand along the top and the side of it. Part of the reason she liked velvet boxed presents was because she would be able to keep the box as well. It was one of her favorite textures. Frisk opened the box and her eyes widened at a heart inside. It was a golden heart locket. She picked it up out of the box and looked it over. Engraved on the front was Frisk. She looked up at her parents and smiled, happy tears pricking the corner of her eyes.

“Thank you, Mom and Dad. I love it.” Frisk said, running her thumb along her engraved name.

“Look inside kiddo.” Asgore said.

The inside was just as beautiful and elegant as the outside. There was a picture on one side of Frisk and her parents. On the other side, it was a picture of all them together. Each and every person in the picture was smiling whether it was awkward, happy, or shy a smile marked every face. Her smile slightly faded, noticing a certain pair of skeletons in the photo who were not present at the current event. Even though Sans and her were not on good times, he had still come to her previous party. Maybe it was just for Papyrus. With Papyrus not here, perhaps Sans didn’t feel the need or the burden to come. Trying not to worry her friends, she smiled and put on the necklace, feeling the heart rest against her skin; close to her heart just like her friends were.

“Thank you. It’s so beautiful. I’ll wear it every day.”

A knock came at the door and Frisk sat up quickly. Could it be…? She went to the door and opened it. Standing on the opposite side was… Grillby. In both of his hands he had platters of food.

“Sorry.” Grillby said just loud enough for Frisk to hear, noticing her disappointed face. When Frisk backed up to let him inside, he walked in and placed the platters on the coffee table. Oohs and Ahs reverberated against the walls with Grillby’s massive food output. Having Grillby’s food catered to her birthday was one of her favorite parts, but… now she just felt empty. She hadn’t even thought of the possibility of Sans and Papyrus not coming. Nor had she thought about how much it would affect her. “There’s enough for everyone, don’t fight now.”

Clamors of forks and spoons clanking against one another filled the air. Frisk continued to remain rooted to her spot, staring at the floor where Grillby had entered.

“NO NEED TO FEAR! FOR I AM HERE!” A familiar voice reverberated against the walls, causing Frisk to look up. The tall skeleton, the cool dude had just flown open the door and strutted inside. “I KNOW THAT YOU MUST HAVE ALL BEEN BORED AND LONELY WITHOUT ME HERE! DON’T CRY!”

“Hey Paps.” Frisk smiled, having three containers of spaghetti forced into her hands.

“HERE! NOW YOU CAN SMLIE FOR I, MASTER CHEF PAPYRUS, HAVE BROUGHT YOU DELICIOUS MORSELS PREPARED DIRECTLY FROM MY HOME!” Papyrus gasped and took the containers back. “WAIT! THE PERFECT PLACE FOR THESE FINE DISHES MUST BE WITH THE OTHER FOOD! TO OUTSHINE THEM!”

Frisk watched Papyrus go to the table and open his container of spaghetti and set it down right by Grillby’s food. Reluctantly, one after another the monsters grabbed some of the spaghetti to put on their plate. None of them could bring themselves to hurt Papyrus’ feelings. She still found it cute that they all loved Papyrus enough to do this for him. His food had gotten better over the years, so one puked when they ate it anymore, it just was rather on the bland side now.

Frisk turned her attention to where Grillby and Papyrus had walked in. No one else came. She didn’t have anyone else to blame for this to be honest. Frisk was the one who said that she hated him first. That he was nothing. To her. To anyone. He would really have to be a glutton for punishment; a true masochist to come here of his own accord after that. She went to the fridge to put the containers in just as the door knocked again.

“AH I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL GET IT!”

Frisk closed the door just as Papyrus spoke again.

“OH! HELLO HUMAN JASON!” Papyrus said. “WELCOME! I HAVE MADE SPAGHETTI FOR FRISK’S BIRTHDAY!”

“Heh… uh… I—”

“OH, AND GRILLBY BROUGHT FOOD AS WELL!”

Frisk entered the living room again and smiled at Jason who had a bouquet of flowers in his hand. She stayed where she was and smiled. When Jason spotted her, he went to her side and hugged her, kissing her cheek and handed her the flowers. The wrapping crunched under her grasp as she stared. The flowers were beautiful; white with four singular petals on each side of the flower. Shockingly enough, when she went in and smelled it, it smelled like oranges.

“These are beautiful Jason.” She said and smelled them again. She had never heard or seen a flower that smelled of oranges. “Did you spray perfume on them to make them smell like this?”

Jason chuckled and shook his head. “No, that’s just the way they are. Cool right?” He asked.

“They are. Let me go get a vase for this.” Frisk said, and the flowers were taken back from her.

“No, it’s alright. It’s your birthday, I’ll go and do it for you.” Jason said and kissed her cheek before heading into the kitchen with Toriel following him.

“I have the perfect vase in mind for these,” Toriel said from the kitchen. Some clamoring echoed into the living room and Frisk fidgeted her nervously. It wasn’t like Frisk had put on a full display of public affection, but she still felt wary. Like… wrong. None of her friends were saying anything that she should feel this way.

“That was so nice of him, Dearie~” Muffet said with a smile, but… it was forced. Frisk felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. There was a text from Fall that made her smile:

Frisk! Happy Birthday! I’m so sorry I won’t be able to come to your party… I got sick a couple nights ago and it still hasn’t gone away. I’ll make it up to you. It’ll be just us girl time. Happy Birthday again!! 😊

The doorbell rang, cutting Frisk’s thought out. Sighing, she went to the door and quickly opening it. The person behind it staggered backwards from the shock of the door suddenly opening. Her eyes had widened, and she remained glued to her spot. Her mind had gone blank and she was unsure what to say or do.

“OH! SANS! I WAS WONDERING WHEN YOU’D GET HERE!” Papyrus said, glancing over Frisk’s shoulder making all previous conversations in the living room fall silent.

Before her, Sans was standing in the snow with his blue hoodie zipped up. His hood was up, and the laces of his sneakers were tied for once. Their gazes had locked, and he hadn’t moved either.

“Close the door! It’s cold!” Undyne exclaimed from the inside.

“O-Oh… um… come in.” Frisk muttered and closed the door behind him when he entered the living room.

“I’m powering up the game system, so we can play.” Alphys announced to the room that had fallen silent.

Frisk and Sans stood opposite each other. Before when gazes were locked, now they were doing anything possible to avoid looking at each other.

“… You didn’t have to come.” Frisk murmured, looking down at his shoes.

“i know.”

“Oh.” Frisk swallowed. “Thank you for—”

“…happy birthday.” Sans cut off and held out his hand.

Frisk’s eyes widened. She was met with a single purple flower. The flower had one stalk with multiple purple blossoms billowing from the center, surrounding the stalk as if to protect it. The beauty of it took her breath away. Jason and Toriel had walked inside the living room with Jason holding onto the vase of flowers just as Frisk had taken the purple flower from Sans.

“What’s that?” Jason’s deadpan voice sounded from behind her.

“A flower.” Frisk smiled and looked at Sans. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

Sans looked down and scratched the back of his skull. “hey kid, can—”

“Great minds think alike, huh?” Jason interrupted, his voice strained and deadpan.

“what are ya talking about?” Sans asked and peeked behind Frisk, his once genuine smile turning into a smirk. “that what ya gave her?”

Every other person in the room was silent, even Papyrus, waiting to see what was going to happen between the all but verbally sworn enemies. Frisk was holding onto the purple flower that she had received from Sans while Jason was standing next to her with the bouquet of flowers that he had brought for his girlfriend.

“What of it?” Jason asked, the glares intensifying.

“fitting, for you.” Sans smirked, his gaze not breaking from Jason. His brows had relaxed into the same type of understanding smile Sans had. Frisk didn’t like the smile that either of them had and liked it even less that they had both come to some strange, almost possessed form of understanding. She held onto the flower from Sans close, breathing in the floral scent so much more comforting than the overwhelming citrus scent from Jason’s flowers.

“Why don’t—”

The door flew open, breaking off the first hinge and swaying as numerous men in black armor entered the home, eliciting screams from her friends. The gifts that she had previously sat down on the chair had been knocked over and trampled on. Shards of CD and jewel case flew around like shrapnel, cutting Frisk’s legs and making her stumble. A couple went after Muffet while four went after Undyne. She summoned a spear and held it in both of her hands, swinging with full force at the human who had tried to grab Alphys.

“Come quietly and no one will get hurt.” One of the black clad humans stated.

“You mean like no one got hurt at City Hall?” Undyne exclaimed, swiping at the humans again.

Shots fired as Undyne impaled one of the humans through the arm, rendering it useless for shooting. Asgore stood in front of Toriel with his large trident, smacking a couple humans with it and knocking them unconscious. For every human that was knocked out or incapacitated, more entered. Pictures were knocked off the wall from stray bullets. Small holes were punctured through the paint. Muffet’s scream sent chills down Frisk’s spine. A bullet was lodged in her leg and another had scraped her face. Frisk ran towards her friend but was pulled away by Jason and another human. No matter how many swipes Undyne made or slaps Asgore swung, within two minutes, they were outnumbered. She watched in horror as her friends and parents fell to the ground. Sans had grabbed a lamp and hit one of the humans in the head making him fall.

The fighting had spilled outside the house where more shrieks of pain and sadness resounded through the night air. Asgore pulled at the handcuffs, trying to get closer to Toriel. Her mother was walking peacefully with one of the humans with her head hung. One of the humans had Frisk restrained so she was unable to do anything but watch her friends and family being forcefully ejected from her home. In the distance, lines of humans guiding monsters in cuffs stood out in stark contrast against the white purity of the snow. Frisk fought against the human while Jason was being detained by another. He however looked to have given up already as he stood there with his head hung.

“W-What’s going on?” Frisk demanded, kicking and trying to pry the man’s arm from her body.

“Exodus, Miss Ambassador.”

“What?”

Frisk was dragged, kicking and resisting to take in the full view of this “Exodus”. All around were humans guiding monsters to beyond a hill in the distance. It looked like a greater scale version of the riot at City Hall. Except they were being guided from the city to somewhere different. Families were torn apart and some of the monsters were limping from injuries sustained during the altercation. In the distance, he could see Muffet struggling to stand up from the injury to her leg. Frisk screamed and tore at the man’s arm to get her to let go. She wanted to save her friends, her family, all the monsters. A loud voice from a megaphone boomed, drowning out the cries for a savior and cries of pain.

“Monsters of Ebott City.” The man began. The light from various vehicles obstructing the view. “You are hereby exiled from Ebott City and are relieved of all property, jobs, and titles. You will all be relocated to the Old War District where you shall remain and live your lives with the banishment in place. Any attempt to defy this law will be met with consequence up to and including your imprisonment.”

Frisk fought against the man, reaching down and biting into his arm with all the force her jaw could conjure. She was dropped onto the snow and she began to run to her friends, Sans and Papyrus at the back. They were both following without handcuffs but showed no signs of resisting. Frisk put up her hand to try and block the blinding light, so she would be able to see exactly where her friends were. She shrieked when a loud pain erupted from her head. She grabbed onto her hair, feeling a tight grip around it. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the piece of glass she had managed to grab before they were forced from the house. Slashing with everything she was, she was relieved when the pain subsided, and she had fallen back into the snow.

Frisk ran, wiping away the tears to see better. A longer list of demands was being given from the man with the megaphone. They wouldn’t be able to enter the main part of Ebott City without a human by their side and would only be allowed with handcuffs. Their visits would be recorded; their comings and goings into and out of Ebott City would be monitored and timed. She ran harder, wanting to get away from the demeaning list. Her legs burned with her muscles straining to get to her family. She had just gotten to her family when three humans grabbed her. Each of her friends pulled at their restraints to get to her. She struggled as they held her to where she was truly unable to move another step.

“Who ordered this?!” Frisk yelled. “This can’t be carried out without my agreement!”

One human, whom she didn’t recognize came around her with a smirk so wide she was wondering how his face didn’t crack in half.

“But… you did Miss Ambassador.” The man said, feigning shock.

“W-What?” Frisk stopped struggling. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw all her friends and family stop struggling and look at her. “I would never agree to this!”

A piece of paper thrust in front of her face spoke to the contrary. The long piece of paper outlined everything that was happening, everything that would happen, and the laws that the megaphone man were outlining as they spoke. Down at the bottom of it all, signed right below the Mayor’s name, was hers:

Frisk Dreemurr

Her stamp was even right by her name. She looked over at her friends who held mixtures of different emotions; betrayal, hopelessness, doubt, to name a few. They turned away and were taken towards the Old War district. She was forced to watch the life that all the monsters had built over the years crumble with just a simple name on a signed document; her name. The very name that was supposed to build their lives took it away. Frisk’s cries continued until she was hoarse, and nothing was coming out. All the monsters were out of sight. Then and only then was Frisk let go. She collapsed to the snow below her on all fours. The flower that Sans had given her was a couple paces away, tramped on and bent. Only two little blooms were holding on for dear life. She crawled over to the flower and picked it up, staring at the blooms. She rested back on her heels and hung her head, crying with renewed mourning.

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So I really hope you like this chapter. I actually had a lot of feels writing this and had to stop writing it for a little bit. The imagery I had in my head actually brought me to tears. I hope that--even if you didn’t end up crying--I hope that it still hit you in the feels a little bit.

#Frans #Mikuxmew85 #undertale #trouble #Fanfiction #Exodus #War #Sans #Frisk #Sans x Frisk #frisk x sans

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itsworn · 5 years

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10 Reasons You Need a Dodge Scat Pack 1320…

Dodge just built an 11-second race car with a warranty. Here’s why this changes everything.

Vehicle manufacturers have learned in recent years that paying attention to the needs of niche customers pays off with handsome dividends. That goes not just for bleeding-edge electrics and hybrids but also performance machinery. Customers respond to cars like the Chevy Camaro ZL1, Dodge SRT Demon, and Ford Shelby Mustang GT500 by signing on the dotted line for a $700-, $800-, or even $1,000-a-month car payment, sometimes for as long as eight years. At the end of the month, you’ve either got that kind of cash sitting around or you don’t.

Some will claim that the price of a nicely equipped 2019 Dodge Challenger Scat Pack 1320—at $46,876 for the one we tested—is too high to be considered affordable, but here’s a reality check: the price of a brand-new, loaded 2019 Volkswagen Passat (pretty much the most boring new car anywhere) is $36,406. Reality check number two: new cars are expensive, even when they’re sleep-inducing appliances. (After adding the mandatory eight-speed automatic transmission, the cost of the 1320 package is just $3,995 over the cost of a standard R/T Scat Pack Challenger.)

Our tester for the day was this TorRed 2019 Dodge Scat Pack 1320, which Dodge claims an 11.7 quarter-mile e.t. at around 115 mph. We were able to review all the 1320’s drag-specific hardware and software on the track, but the timers were not set up. Performance pages recorded our best eighth-mile e.t.’s around 7.5 seconds during back-to-back hot laps.

But framing Dodge’s new gem as some sort of low-cost alternative to the terrifyingly quick Demon doesn’t do enough justice to the Scat Pack 1320. This rare kind of car is what happens when the right group of engineers, designers, and brass meet in a crystal-clear moment of clarity and do the right thing. Recognizing how its customers were using and modifying Hemi Challengers, Dodge took stock of the SRT parts bin, sharpened some pencils, and got to work shaping a car that will have far-reaching consequences for hot rodders for decades to come. In few words, what they came up with is essentially an SRT Demon, but without the 840hp Hemi. Though the 1320 was announced last July, limited availability in the press fleet forced us to hold off on our evaluation until now. Let’s take a look at the 10 reasons you’d be wise to buy a Scat Pack 1320…

Introducing Nexen’s first-ever drag radial tire: the SUR4G 275/40R20. The design and compound of this DOT-legal drag radial has been specifically tuned for the Scat Pack 1320 and is standard equipment.

1. Drag radials on track-spec wheels

If you take drag racing seriously, the first thing you’d do with any race car is find some sticky tires and purpose-built wheels. That typically means hitting the Summit Racing catalog or Tire Rack website and shelling out at least a grand (and for only two rims and tires, at that). The Scat Pack’s 1320 option includes specially developed Nexen SUR4G drag-spec 275/40R20 street-legal tires, which we found to be incredibly effective when we made test runs down the eighth-mile in Pomona. (Without the track’s timing lights on, we produced e.t.’s in the 7.5- to 7.9-second range, with a heat-soaked engine.) These tires are mounted on low-gloss black 20×9.5-inch forged wheels with a knurled bead seat to minimize tire slip when the tire pressure is reduced for competition (around 20 psi). We’ve already ordered a set of these super-sticky Nexen tires to test on our resident Hellcat. Look for a full report at a later date.

Designed to be drag-raced from the factory, this innocuous-looking “Drag” button on the center stack unlocks an arsenal of tools for getting down track posthaste. By our count, Dodge packs more than $5K in drag-specific hardware and software into the 1320, a relative bargain considering the $3,995 asking price of the 1320 package. You couldn’t do the 1320’s mods for less, even if you did the work yourself.

2. Drag mode

Slide behind the wheel of a 1320 Scat Pack, and you’ll think you entered an episode of The Twilight Zone. Down and just to your right is an innocent-looking button called “Drag.” Push it, and you’ve swallowed the proverbial red pill (if we’re allowed to mix cinematic metaphors). “Drag” instantly invokes all the goodies in Dodge’s electronic toolbox, from torque reserve, launch control, and line lock to adaptive drag dampers and transbrake. While technically the combination of several key features, having the button in plain sight with everything under one roof is a huge benefit, especially in the fast-paced world of the burnout box and staging beams.

While the 1320 gets the Scat Pack’s version of the eight-speed TorqueFlite instead of the Demon’s stronger unit, it does get the Demon’s extra torque reserve through a special torque converter and software upgrades. TorqueFlites are built in FCA’s Kokomo, Indiana, transmission plant.

3. Torque reserve/torque converter

Seasoned drag racers know that fast elapsed times aren’t always the product of more power, but better power management. Dodge’s torque reserve rips a page right out of the racer’s handbook with a higher-stall-speed converter and combines it with some clever software integrated into the car’s multiple body modules to launch the car more effectively. Torque reserve works in conjunction with launch control and the transbrake (more on this later) by managing fuel flow and controlling ignition timing to maximize power delivery and launch performance. Taken together, it’s the equivalent of a custom-built torque converter with valvebody mods and significant custom transmission programming. If we had to put a price tag on this with comparable aftermarket parts, software, and labor, it’s easily worth $1,500.

When Dodge realized it could stuff the Demon’s 41-spline halfshafts into the Scat Pack 1320 for way less than its customers could through the aftermarket (and save them warranty headaches!) it was a no-brainer.

4. Demon axles

The Demon’s stronger 41-spline, extreme-duty halfshafts aren’t exactly needed at the 1320’s modest 485hp level; it’s more of a wink-wink, nudge-nudge from the engineers acknowledging that you’re about to bolt on a blower, cam, and heads, and that they don’t want to see you in the service department the next Monday after you’ve snapped an axle. Dodge has, for all intents, given you the most important “bolt-on” you’ll need as your power rises with increasing amounts of nitrous and boost. We put the value on the Demon axle upgrade at around $1,500.

Note how all Scat Packs get the Hellcat hood for 2019, including the 1320. Special low-glare, drag-spec 9.5×20 wheels prevent tire slip on the rim while providing a unique and lightweight style. Suspension tuning on the 1320 is drag spec all the way.

5. Adaptive damping suspension (ADS)

Everybody talks a good game about setting up a stock-style rear suspension for sportsman level bracket racing, as witnessed by the multitudes of adjustable race shocks, coilovers, control arms, and data-logging hardware available to help the racer tune the typical sportsman-level bracket car. This equipment can add up into the thousands of dollars at the blink of an eye. That’s nice if you enjoy a track-side science project, but it’s a science project Dodge has already done for you with the 1320’s ADS.

Like the Demon’s suspension, this system electronically retunes the dampers in Drag mode, setting the front to full soft rebound/full hard compression and the rear to full hard (both compression and rebound). This optimizes weight transfer to the rear, affording the Nexen drag radials the maximum grip possible.

The Scat Pack’s ZF-designed eight-speed TorqueFlite automatic, shown here in a cutaway illustration. The TorqueFlite offered in the Scat Pack 1320 is the 8HP70 version and has a torque capacity of 516 lb-ft (versus the Hellcat and Demon’s 8HP90 model at 663 lb-ft) The 1320’s 8HP70 does have an upgraded converter, torque reserve, and unique drag programming, as does the Demon’s 8HP90.

6. Transbrake

If there’s one feature that’s the poster boy for everything the Scat Pack 1320 stands for, it’s got to be the transbrake. There is no other earthly reason to need it, other than gapping the car in the other lane. That, and getting to the finish line first with “only” 485 hp. How quick is that? Dodge officially says 11.7 seconds at 115 mph in the quarter-mile. Drag racers have relied on transbrake technology for decades to take a huge bite out of e.t.’s, and it works through the diabolically simple principle of locking two gears against one another, then dumping the line pressure to one of the associated fluid circuits. The parts for a typical aftermarket transbrake kit for a simple three-speed automatic run between $400 and $500, not including the labor to install—and there’s a lot of rope to hang yourself if you get it wrong. When used with a sticky tire like the Nexen (transbrake is activated through the steering-mounted paddles), the effect is rather like getting hit in the rear by a Mack truck.

The single-seat interior of the Scat Pack 1320 is Spartan, but is finished out much nicer than a DIY seat delete in a typical street-to-’strip conversion. Passenger seat and rear bench seat can be ordered for $1 each.

7. Low-weight option

It’s nothing to roll your eyes about when Dodge says the 1320 comes standard with just a driver seat. This little favor will save the Scat Pack owner 114 pounds, worth almost a whole tenth of a second in quarter-mile e.t. Not much, you say? See how much you like losing a race by 0.09 second! The important thing to remember is you can buy the rear bench and the front passenger seat for just $1 each. When the seats are removed, the bare areas look far better than an interior with the seats yanked. Anybody with a stripped-down drag car knows the look, and unlike the 1320, it’s not a look that looks good.

The 1320’s suite of drag-specific software is accessed through Dodge’s 8.4-inch uConnect center-stack screen. This datalogging sample from a dragstrip run shows power, torque, gear, and engine speed in “dyno” mode.

8. Launch Assist/launch control/line lock

This group ought to count as three separate features, but are so closely intertwined that we group them together for simplicity. Here’s where Dodge has leveraged its technology know-how to leapfrog beyond what the drag-racing aftermarket offers, figuring that if the hardware is already on the car and the computing power is already there, why not spend a few bucks and put it to work for the most nefarious purpose possible?

The line lock is just as you’d imagine, but with enhancements. In “Drag” mode, hit the “trans brake” button on the uConnect screen, push down on the brake pedal until at least 1,100 psi of brake line pressure shows on the driver display, straighten the steering, hit the “OK” button on the steering wheel, release the brake, and stab the gas. Once clouds of tire smoke billow from the rear, release “OK” and roll out. Burnout complete!

Launch Assist uses wheel-speed sensors to watch for driveline-damaging wheelhop at launch and in milliseconds modifies the engine torque to regain full grip. Launch control prevents tire slip during straight-line acceleration. Once again, the factory borrows its own stability-control sensors, software, and hardware to get this highly specialized job done. You can’t put a price on that, but a quality aftermarket line-lock kit would cost around $400 to install and makes a huge difference in getting consistent, repeatable hard launches.

Dodge encourages participation in drag racing with its Scat Pack 1320 by offering membership in either the NHRA or NMCA for one year. Owners can keep taps on other Scat Pack 1320s through DodgeGarage.com, a community for active enthusiasts.

9. It has a real warranty

Perhaps the biggest mental impediment to owners racing their daily drivers (besides the specter of breakage) is warranty service. Unlike the 1960s, where factory-package cars had disclaimers against racing—or sometimes no warranty at all—the Scat Pack 1320 has a 5-year/60,000-mile powertrain warranty that includes running down the dragstrip in unmodified form. Think they’re kidding? Dodge includes a one-year membership to the NHRA or NMCA, as well as membership in Dodge’s 1320 club (DodgeGarage.com)—a Dodge-sponsored online community of Scat Pack, Hellcat, and Demon racers who share performance data, e.t. slips, drag news, and technical information. You can get on the “leader” board, earn decals for achieving certain benchmarks, become an expert, or just brag to all your buddies.

10. An engine worth building

With a healthy 10.9:1 compression ratio, the 6.4L Hemi belts out 485 hp naturally aspirated, but can handle another 200 hp easily with a bolt-on blower kit. The stock block and crank are good for much more than that, but we suggest upgrading the cast pistons to lower-compression forgings with stronger rods to achieve Hellcat-level power.

With the 6.2L supercharged Hellcat and Redeye Hemi engines (717 and 797 hp, respectively) getting all the attention, it’s the naturally aspirated, SRT-tuned 392 Hemi that is the bread and butter of Mopar performance these days. Now in its ninth year of production, the 392ci (6.4L) Hemi puts down 485 hp and 475 lb-ft of torque. If you think of it as a blank canvas for something even greater, you’ve got the right idea: with an indestructible block and a forged steel crank, the 392 is just a piston/rod swap and a blower kit away from Demon territory. Outside of the GM LS-series, no other current late-model V8 is better supported in the aftermarket, making it a great springboard for increasing power gradually over time. Even in unaltered form, an 11.7 e.t. at 115 mph is nothing to sneeze at, a feat that’s easy to forget when the factory is advertising 9s! To put things in perspective, the fastest Hemi cars of the 1960s were only good for 13s off the showroom floor. My, how far we’ve come!

They Gave Us Hints…

This illustration for a Dodge 1320 concept was created by Dodge stylist Jeff Gales more than 10 years ago when the Challenger R/T first debuted. While much different-looking than the production 1320 in 2019, you can see the Drag Pak influence with the steel wheels, Super Stock Hemi hoodscoop, and bold graphics. One could possibly predict future products from FCA’s other Hemi-powered concepts over the past few years, such as the recent widebody Charger Hellcat concept.