Gross but effective! Follow that instinct, lean into ways of being weird, to cut off the urges to be weird in different ways! [Which... is that accidentally a confession about some of Papyrus's life choices? Maybe so, enough that he gets on with his skedaddling and escapes to pie-less lands elsewhere in the house.

The sight of the pie the next afternoon... Is a relief. As is the fact that nothing weird's been going on. No neighbors coming in to do housework, or congregate on the roof at night like birds, or anything. If there's a weird symbol-listening group recently hooked on pie, he hasn't heard anything on the news. Nothing seems awry... But while he cuts a piece of the pie, setting it on a plate and bringing it to the table with a glass of milk and a fork, he stares at it contemplatively.]