[Sans hears that particular tone of tired energy in Papyrus's voice. It's one he's heard very rarely at home and more recently, if more dramatically, when Papyrus showed up slumped over on his front step. Which reminds him all over again why he's here. Still, he looks at the colors as directed.]

Huh, look at that. You're gettin' pretty good at it. [At least, as far as Sans can tell. He doesn't know a lot about making gelatin. But his eyes flick back over to Papyrus, his expression assessing. It's a familiar expression, just exaggerated on this human face. Much less exaggerated than when Sans arrived, at least. The window of easily discerning Sans's expressions is closing little by little.] Hey, speaking of the party, you remember that invitation on--online, I guess? [It's not exactly a modern internet, and really it seems like more of an intranet, but whatever.]