[Sans looks at Papyrus's arm, expecting to see something different, but Papyrus's arm looks the same as it did before Sans went to sleep. From there he looks down at his shirt. He just keeps ruining shirts. His thoughts are starting to organize themselves again, though that's only marginally helpful regarding his confusion. He presses a hand to his sternum and his shirt pushes in past where his ribcage should be like there's no bone there at all. All three hands tighten on Papyrus's arm.
He laughs thinly.] Thought this part was over after that party.
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He laughs thinly.] Thought this part was over after that party.