Carrying you's gonna be pretty hard. Add "flying wagon" to your to-do list. [Sans is joking around about the difficulty, but that's not a no. Sans won't leave Papyrus behind. In fact, even though he's joking, some of Sans's gaze drifts to a piece of scrap metal. He reaches out to it--should probably have asked first, but he's a bit distracted--and as soon as he settles his hand on it the metal abstracts into intangible light and heat. Leftover molecules clatter audibly to the ground like marbles. Even freed into this sort of form, it holds the shape it used to be. It's now a very strange, intangible lamp.]
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