In the various amounts of gifts and fan-mail Mettaton received would be one carefully bubble wrapped package, a VHS tape inside labelled ‘For Mettaton’.
If one would watch it it was from a young boy, a guitar on his lap and arm barely able to get around it to reach the strings.
It was a shy looking lad with a large mop of dark curls. He seemed embarrassed but a decent tune came from the instrument.
“Dear Mister Mettaton, my name is Dave.
I’m playing a song, so I can’t wave.
I broke my leg last week,
I tried to fly like Batman
It didn’t quite work out
So I guess I’m lame-man.
My Family loves your show,
We watch it all the time.
Could you maybe help me out?
Its really hard to make this rhyme.
We don’t have a lot of cash,
I’m not asking for some.
Maybe you could let them come,
To see your show and have some fun.
Its okay if I can’t go,
I just want them to enjoy a night.
I’ll give you my piggy bank,
Its old so don’t hold it tight.
If you’re busy I understand,
Being famous is a hard job.
You probably get these a lot,
I hope there’s no angry mob.
I think you’re pretty cool,
Your laugh is really great.
Please don’t tell the kids at school,
If they know I sing they’ll flush my head.”
The song ended and the boy finally gave a small wave before the video ended, a small note left in the parcel had a home address jotted down.