Look, I never thought I’d see the day when the skeleton who puns you to death and judges your every move would serenade the leader of the Catholic Church. Yet here we are, in the glorious year of 2026, and I still can't stop grinning about that time Pope Francis got a faceful of Megalovania. It’s like the universe collectively decided that the only thing missing from a papal audience was a banger composed by a guy who once made an EarthBound ROM hack.

The scene was deliciously absurd. A skilled circus artist was dangling upside-down, juggling objects with their dexterous feet, all while the frantic opening notes of Sans’ boss theme blasted through the hallowed halls of the Vatican. Imagine the juxtaposition: centuries of sacred tradition meeting the 2015 indie darling that asks you to spare or murder a flower. I can only assume the Pope nodded along, blissfully unaware that the song is the soundtrack to a gauntlet of bone attacks and merciless dunking. If His Holiness has ever played Undertale, he’s definitely keeping that secret close to his cassock.

Let’s rewind for those who might think I’m describing a fever dream. Toby Fox’s Undertale is the role-playing game that flipped the genre on its head. You play as a child who tumbles into the Underground, a realm of monsters banished from the surface. Every encounter gives you a choice: FIGHT or MERCY. That simple mechanic spirals into a tangled web of consequences, friendships, and some of the most memorable characters ever coded. You’ve got Toriel, the protective goat-mom; Flowey, the deceptive buttercup who greets you with a smile and a bullet-hell “friendliness pellet”; and Papyrus, the spaghetti-obsessed skeleton who is too pure for this world. Then there’s Sans.

Sans is the embodiment of laid-back menace. He cracks jokes, sells you hot dogs, and seems to be perpetually one bad time away from revealing his true power. Players who decide to go full genocide—killing every single monster—get to meet that power in a boss fight so notorious it became a rite of passage. And the music that plays during that fight? Megalovania. It’s a tune that has transcended the game, becoming a meme, a ringtone, and now, apparently, a liturgical circus anthem. The fact that this piece found its way into a performance for the Pope is the kind of chaotic good energy I live for.

The circus act itself was part of the Pope’s weekly General Audience, where entertainers often showcase their talents. I have to tip my hat to whoever chose the soundtrack. They could have gone with something safe, like Vivaldi or a gentle acoustic number. Instead, they opted for a chiptune-infused dose of adrenaline that practically dares you to sit still. The juxtaposition of a juggler’s gravity-defying routine with a song that screams “you’re gonna have a bad time” is a stroke of comedic genius. I like to think that somewhere in the crowd, a teenager in the audience recognized the tune and felt an unspoken bond with time.

Toby Fox, meanwhile, has been busy. After Undertale became an indie icon—even landing a track in Pokémon Sword and Shield—he dove headfirst into Deltarune. The project is a spiritual successor that borrows the soul of Undertale and paints a new adventure across yet-to-be-released chapters. As of 2026, we’re still waiting for the remaining chapters to drop, with Fox carefully stitching them together like a master tailor. He’s notorious for being a perfectionist, and after seeing what he did with a skeleton and a ketchup bottle, I’m happy to be patient. The first two chapters gave us a fresh party of characters, including Susie the chalk-eating powerhouse and Ralsei the fluff-ball of darkness, and teased a meta-narrative that might just be bigger than the original.

But back to the Vatican. This weird little moment isn’t just a footnote in gaming history; it’s a testament to how far Toby Fox’s music has reached. Whether you’re a speedrunner, a casual player, or the Bishop of Rome, Megalovania has a way of grabbing your attention. I doubt the Pope has an opinion on the Genocide route—though I’d pay good G to hear him say “get dunked on”—but I’m certain the masterful composition moved something in that audience. Undertale’s soundtrack is a potion of nostalgia, adrenaline, and melancholic beauty all at once, capable of stirring emotions in anyone, regardless of their save file.

So here’s to the beautiful absurdity of 2026, where a juggler’s upside-down tricks under a Renaissance ceiling can be underscored by the musical equivalent of a skeleton’s wink. May this not be the last time the Vatican accidentally embraces meme culture. Next up: a Gregorian chant remix of “Spider Dance,” anyone?